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It was the 1st of September, and I was running as fast as I could over the plain. I had jumped out of the car even before it stopped, and I was waving frantically to the blue carriages waiting for the students, which had just started to move. The last one stopped. A huge – and I mean huge; bigger than anything I’d seen before – white horse with feathery wings turned its head and eyed me suspiciously. Panting, I smiled thankfully and turned to see my dad coming over the grass with my trunk.


The horse waited patiently while I got my trunk inside a little room in the back, already filled with three trunks. Dad gave me a hug, mum kissed my forehead and told me good luck, then I jumped into the carriage and it started rolling at once. Though it was only rolling for a few seconds before the horse kicked off the ground and we soared upwards. I resisted the urge to scream, instead taking in the three others in the carriage.


A rather tiny girl sat on the opposite seat of me. She had curly, black hair and brown, friendly eyes. Her light blue school uniform looked like mine, except for the fact that she was much skinnier than me, much prettier than me and made it look really beautiful on her. She smiled at me, and I smiled back at once.


“Salut, je suis Satine,” she said, still smiling. Her voice was deeper than I would’ve guessed, but it suited her perfectly.


Hmm, talking French. I know what she is saying, but this is gonna be weird…


You speak French as well, the voice said. You know what to say!


If you don’t shut up immediately, I will … do whatever I can do to hurt a voice inside my head!


Satine had not heard my little argument, and continued: “Mes copines ici, c’est Michelle,“ she pointed at the girl next to her, “et Cecilie,” she pointed at the girl next to me.


Michelle smiled to me as well. Her shoulder-length silvery hair framed her heart-shaped face with an elegance I could only dream of, and her eyes were light blue, almost electric. She too, had the light blue uniform on, having it match her eyes in a very suitable way.


Cecilie didn’t smile, but the look she sent me was friendly enough. Her brown eyes were almost hidden by the thick, black eye-lashes. Her skin was darker than the other two’s, and I supposed she wasn’t French originally. Her black hair was cut short, and stood out in strange ways all over her head.


“Hel– ehm… Salut,” I said slowly, and Michelle laughed.


“Oh, you are the English student, non?” she asked, and I thanked whatever listened that they spoke English as well, though with a very French accent.


“Yeah,” I said laughing a little. “I’m Harriet.”


Michelle tasted the name. Then she smiled and said:


“May we just call you ‘Arrie? Much simpler!”


I laughed at the way she said it. “Harrie?”


“Oui, ‘Arrie,” she said, laughing as well.


“Fine with me.”


The rest of the ride, we spoke of our lives, our schools – they wanted to hear as much about Hogwarts as I wanted to hear about Beauxbatons – and everything we could think of. By the time the carriage landed, we had become friends.


The thump when we landed on the ground startled me. I hadn’t realized we were that close. We all jumped out of the carriage, and I turned to face a beautiful – but still small and boring compared to Hogwarts – castle. I glared for a while, patted the horse on its leg – no chance to reach the head – and the four of us headed towards the castle. The trunks would be brought in later.


When we came inside the hall, I looked around. Paintings and candles filled the walls, and students were heading through a huge, double door in to another hall. A woman with dark, straight hair in a pony tale, a light blue robe and a pleasant smile approached. Her eyes glimmered, switching between light green and yellow.


“Ah, bonjour! Mademoiselle Potter, oui?” she boomed in a deep, kind voice.


I nodded. “Bonjour, Madame,” I said.


She switched to English as she spoke next.

“As you probably are familiar with the four houses at Hogwarts, you may find it strange but comfortable having everyone in one house, divided into classes. There is one big common room up two stairs and through a door to the left, and there you will also find the dormitories.”


“Madame LeChat, peut-elle …” Michelle interrupted, and Madame LeChat smiled.


“If she can share your dormitory? I see no reason why not.”


The three girls grinned, and I smiled back. I was relieved the headmistress spoke English to me right now.


“I hope these girls can show you around a little,” she said and they nodded, “and now I must ask you all to come with me into the dining hall for dinner. You must be hungry.”


She went in through the door, and we followed her. The hall was huge, but not at all like the Great Hall. The ceiling was normal, and it was all a little smaller. But it was beautiful, with its flying elves glinting in the air, the one huge table around which all of the students sat waiting for the dinner to be served, the candles hanging on the walls, filling the hall with shivering, warm light, and of course the huge banner showing the Beauxbatons symbol: Two crossed wands sending up three stars each.


When the headmistress entered the hall, all the students stood up immediately and stopped chatting. Michelle, Satine, Cecilie and I hurried towards four free seats among some other seventh-years. They had been waiting for us. We all stood there until Madam LeChat had sat down at the middle of the short-end of the table, and motioned us to sit. We did so, and she stood up again, clapping her hands twice.


“Bienvenue,” she said in loud French, I trying to translate it all inside my head into something understandable, “to our old and our new students! This year is the first for some of you, and the last for some. For one particular student, it is both. I hope Mademoiselle Potter is greeted well,” she smiled at me, and I smiled weakly back, wishing I could go hide under the table as more than a thousand eyes suddenly turned towards me.


She continued with some information, the introduction of all the new first-years – they all had to come up in one line and were presented by name – and finally she ended it with “bon apétit!”

So here she is... What do you think so far? 
About the voice in her head... She's not as insane as it might sound =P I just got inspired by my own little  voice... xD Hehe.

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