Fleur de Lys
C’est la vie
C’est la vie
« Ah, non, » muttered Fleur, reaching for a tissue to clean up the nail polish that was seeping out of the glass bottle she’d just accidently knocked over. She sighed, mopping up the red liquid with a handful of tissues. She had been trying to paint her nails Red Velvet but now she had spilled all the nail polish.
Too lazy to find her wand and with one hand’s nails painted bright red, Fleur threw the tissues and nail polish bottle in the trash and walked to the kitchen to make herself a chocolat chaud. After boiling the milk and adding in the chocolate mix, Fleur poured it into a mug and walked towards her couch. She sipped the hot liquid and reached for one of the many glossy magazines littering her small coffee table.
She flipped through the pages quickly, barely pausing on each page. After she had finished her chocolat chaud, she closed the magazine and dropped it on the nearby table for she had lost interest in it. Sighing, she made her way back to the kitchen to deposit her mug. A soft tapping could be heard from the entryway and Fleur made her way across her apartment skeptically. The soft tapping turned out to be an owl knocking it’s beak at the window, a letter attached to it’s leg.
Fleur opened the window and the small white puffin flew inside. Fleur recognized the owl as Agnès, her sister Gabrielle’s owl. Gabrielle had refused to get any other type of owl saying that they were “tous laids.” She then proceeded to name said owl Agnès even though the owl was in fact a boy. To prove to everyone the opposite, Gabrielle always tied a pink ribbon around his neck for good measure. Shaking her head, Fleur reached for the letter attached to Agnès’ leg and unrolled it. The letter was written in Gabrielle’s signature loopy fuchsia scrawl.
In the letter, Gabrielle had rambled on about things at Beauxbatons and their mother. At the end, Gabrielle said that she was coming to visit Fleur tomorrow. It was not a question, it was a matter-of-fact statement. Gabrielle had signed her name in huge fuchsia letters with hearts. The letter was so Gabrielle.
Fleur smiled at the letter and reached for a quill to respond. She flipped over the letter, scribbled a few words and re-tied the letter to Agnès’ leg. Opening the window again, she let Agnès fly out.
Shutting the window again, Fleur returned to her kitchen. The application stared at her from the table and she reluctantly grabbed a quill and ink well and sat down.
The first few questions were easy: name, date of birth, city, etc. Fleur filled in the lines carefully in navy ink and moved on to the next question that was followed by several lines. Fleur re-read the question twice and racked her brains. Why do you want to work at Gringotts Wizarding Bank?
To improve my English and learn about the inner workings of a bank, Fleur wrote slowly. The next question made Fleur frown. What secretary position would you like to fill? Below were several options and Fleur paused then circled Financial Advisor's Secretary, because it was better than Goblin’s Assistant. She sighed and started on the next question, this was going to be a long day.
The voice shook Fleur from her deep slumber and she snapped open her large deep blue eyes. Someone had called her name and it sounded an awful lot like Gabrielle.
Fleur could hear the sound of heels on her hard-wood floor coming closer and closer to her bedroom door. She groaned and buried her face in her pillow just as her door burst open to reveal Gabrielle clad in a tight pink pencil skirt and white blouse, tottering on toweringly high heels. “Fleur, combien de fois est-ce que je dois crier ton nom?” asked Gabrielle, hands on her hips.
Fleur mumbled something unintelligible and covered her head with her pillow. “Fleur!’ continued Gabrielle. “Qu’est-ce que tu fais?”
When Fleur didn’t respond, Gabrielle pulled out her wand and pointed it at Fleur. She muttered a spell and Fleur was thrown from her bed.
Fleur opened her eyes to see Gabrielle’s suede pink red-soled pumps. She lifted herself from the hardwood floor and onto her elbows and stared at Gabrielle incredulously. “Where did you buy zose shoes?”
Gabrielle rolled her eyes and ignored the question. “So, since tu es Eenglish now, we should talk een Eenglish,” said Gabrielle in horrible English.
Fleur raised an eyebrow.
“Well, quoi?” asked Gabrielle. “Maman theenks zat I should practice my Eenglish.”
“Okay,” answered Fleur, getting up off the floor and fastening a robe around herself.
“You do not seem ’appy to see me,” complained Gabrielle.
“Well, you wouldn’t be eezzer if you ’ad been so rudely awoken,” snapped Fleur, walking towards the hallway that lead to the kitchen.
Gabrielle shrugged and followed her sister. “Tu sais, your Eenglish ees still ’orrible, Fleur,” said Gabrielle, matter-of-factly.
Fleur shook her head to herself and rolled her eyes. She wasn’t at all offended by her sister’s blunt comment for she was used to her sister’s lack of filter. “Zank you,” replied Fleur sarcastically.
Gabrielle shrugged again and opened Fleur’s fridge, taking out an apple and biting into it, using her hip to close the fridge door. “What are we doing wiz our day?”
“Well, zat is up to you,” said Fleur.
“Are zair really better stores in Angleterre?” asked Gabrielle.
Fleur thought for a moment. “No,” she replied.
“Well, we can still look at ze stores,” offered Gabrielle.
Fleur shrugged. “Okay, but I ’ave to make a stop first. Let me go take my shower and zen we can go.”
“Okay,” said Gabrielle. “Mais, ’urry up!”
Fleur rolled her eyes again and headed towards the bathroom.
Half an hour later, Fleur walked out of the bathroom and to her room to get dressed. Upon entering her room, she saw Gabrielle sitting on her bed, dozens of shoe boxes surrounding her.
Fleur gasped. “Qu’est-ce que tu fais?”
“I am trying on ze shoes to see if zey go with my outfit,” said Gabrielle, as if it were obvious.
Fleur crossed her arms over her chest. “You are not allowed to touch ze shoes.”
“But, pourquoi, Fleur? Zey are exactly my size!” objected Gabrielle.
“Parce que,” explained Fleur, her patience wearing thin. “Zey are my shoes and zey were expensive!”
Gabrielle pouted and placed a pair of patent-leather yellow red-soled pumps back in their pristine white box.
Fleur bit her lip, feeling guilty. “Fine, take ze pair you want.”
Gabrielle sent Fleur a dazzling smile then pulled out the strappy colourful high-heeled sandals from their box. “ ’ave I mentioned zat je t’aime?”
Fleur rolled her eyes and pushed her sister over on the bed so that she could sit next to her. “Alors, what should I wear?”
A couple of hours later Fleur and Gabrielle apparated to Diagon Alley. They walked arm-in-arm towards Gringotts, where Fleur was planning on dropping off her application. They took the stone steps two at a time and Fleur pulled open the heavy glass door for her sister.
The heels of Fleur’s five-inch stilettos sounded on the marble floors as she walked towards the counter. “ ’Ello Meester, I would like to drop off my application,” said Fleur.
The goblin across the counter took one look at Fleur’s elaborate shoes and frowned. “And you are applying for what?” he asked Fleur.
“Oh,” said Fleur. “Secretary to ze financial advisor.”
The goblin raised his eyebrows and then took Fleur’s application. “Right, well then, have a nice day.”
Fleur smiled and wished him a nice day as well.
Gabrielle and Fleur turned on their heels and began walking towards the doors when Gabrielle nudged Fleur’s hip with her own. She pretended to be focusing on something written on the wall while Fleur looked around wildly to see what Gabrielle had nudged her about.
Her gaze stopped on Bill Weasley, the only non-goblin in the room. His wavy red hair was disheveled and he smiled easily, his dimples popping up on either side of his mouth. Fleur’s cheeks bloomed with colour and Bill lifted a hand and waved tentatively. Fleur smiled back uneasily and turned away.
“ ’Oo is zat?” asked Gabrielle. “ ’E is so beau.”
I know, Fleur thought. She snuck a glance at Bill who still had his eyes on her.
“And ’e just waved at toi,” said Gabrielle in awe.
Fleur subtly hit Gabrielle upside the head with her leather-bound journal. “Ferme-la,” hissed Fleur, under her breath.
Gabrielle smiled knowingly. “Mais, Fleur,” she whispered. “I did not know zat you liked ze redheads.”
Fleur blushed crimson and dragged her sister out of Gringotts.
Author’s Note How do you guys like Gabrielle so far? Sorry if all the French was a little hard to read.
« Ah, non, » — “Oh, no” , chocolat chaud — hot chocolate, tous laids — all ugly
“Fleur, combien de fois est-ce que je dois crier ton nom?” — “Fleur, how many times do I have to scream your name?”
“Qu’est-ce que tu fais?” — “What are you doing?”
tu es — you are, quoi — what, Tu sais — You know, Angleterre — England, Mais — But, pourquoi — why, Parce que — Because, je t’aime — I love you, Alors — Then, beau — handsome, toi — you, Ferme-la — Shut up.
Thank you all for reading and please review!
chapter image by Camila
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