Chapter 4

Ginny awoke with a start in a room she didn’t recognize.  She panicked at first, but then realized that she must be at the palace of L’Academie des Sorcieres.  Pale winter sunlight was streaming in the narrow windows on the wall to her right, dancing on the grey stone walls which were neither rough nor smooth.  She looked down and realized the bed that she had slept in was larger than her bed at the Burrow, yet still smaller than her parents’ bed.  It was covered in crisp white sheets and a heavenly dark purple comforter.  She clutched at the comforter as she sank back into the pile of pillows and noticed that everything seemed – feathery.  There was a featherbed underneath the sheets, the comforter was stuffed with feathers, and the pillows she was leaning against were plump with yet more feathers.  She giggled as she imagined a gigantic flock of bald birds flying into her room, squawking about the loss of their feathers.

After sighing contentedly, she glanced around the rest of the room.  The very narrow windows were set deep into the wall: the sill must be at least a foot deep while the windows had to be less than a foot wide.  The glass separating the warmth of her room from the chilly air outside was wavy and colorful.  There was a heavy wooden door to her right that she presumed led out into a hallway.  A large wooden desk stood in the corner of the room with a rather uncomfortable looking chair, and a sturdy bookcase.  Grimacing, she finally noticed a wardrobe next to her bed, so she hopped out of bed in the hopes of getting dressed for the day.

As soon as her feet hit the floor, she let out a shrill yelp.  The floor was made of the same stone as the walls and very cold.  Glancing down, she spied her shoes that she had had the good sense to kick off before collapsing into the bed the day before.  She slipped them back on, flinching at their chill, then walked over to the wardrobe.  She pulled out a lovely pink and grey plaid robe and a matching grey cardigan.  She loved the cardigan that went with this robe since it allowed her to wear it in any weather and the cardigan itself was much nicer than the jumpers her mother made everyone at Christmas.  She yelped again as she shed her pajamas and the cold air hit her skin, so she quickly put on some underwear before getting into the robes.

Once she was dressed, she walked over to the bookcase and examined the books she had gotten yesterday.  All of the books were in French, which she was still struggling to read.  Thumbing through them, she was very glad to see that they contained very useful images in addition to pure theory.  She had always tried to read through her brother’s books, but found them to be very boring.  These had pictures on how to correctly stir a cauldron for a particular potion and the proper wand movements for spells.  She finally settled on reading the etiquette text.  She had just decided to give up on reading for the moment and see what was outside of her room when she heard a knock at the door.

She stood up, smoothing imaginary wrinkles from her new robe, before approaching the door.  She opened it a crack, peering out and saw a dark blue eye peering back at her.  She jumped back, not letting go of the door handle, thus causing the door to spring open.

“Oh, good, you’re up,” Madame Boucher’s voice floated into the room.  “I trust you slept well?”

Ginny turned and saw the tall woman standing in the doorway.  “Yes, thanks.  I’m sorry I fell asleep on you yesterday.”

Madame Boucher waved her hand dismissively.  “No worries there, Ginevra.  All incoming students are assigned an advisor and all of my other students are still with their families, allowing us plenty of time to get you settled in.” She pulled out her wand and began waving it about and suddenly there was a small round table and two upholstered dining chairs in the center of the room.  “I’ve already arranged for the House-Elves to send us breakfast up here.  It’s not a normal occurrence so I don’t advise getting used to it.”

Ginny’s mouth began watering as food appeared on the table.  She grabbed a chocolate filled pastry and began stuffing it in her mouth but a hand caught her wrist and forced her to put the pastry back on her plate.

“Ginevra,” the older woman scolded.  “Try to breathe while you eat!  Here, watch me.”  She picked up another one of the flakey pastries delicately, raised it to her mouth, and took a small bite.  She placed it back on her plate while she chewed and savored the pastry then picked it back up and repeated the process after swallowing.  Ginny was amazed: not a single crumb was out of place during the entire procedure.

“You don’t want to act as if you haven’t eaten in a month,” Madame Boucher lectured.  “Enjoy your food, the house-elves are very good at what they do so eating should be enjoyable.  Savor the texture and flavor of the food before you swallow it, that should slow you down so you eat at a lady-like pace.”

Ginny opened her mouth to inform her that she had grown up with six very hungry older brothers and she had never had a chance to savor her food, but thought better of it, closing her mouth and nodding.  She picked up her pastry again, grimacing as flakey crumbs dusted the plate, raised it to her mouth, and took a bite.  She was surprised at the flakey, butter texture of the pastry contrasted with the smoother, harder texture of the chocolate.  Her eyes widened in surprise as she placed the pastry back on her plate.

“Much better,” Madame Boucher said, watching her in satisfaction.  “It takes practice but keep remembering to do that and you’ll be all set.”

-----

Several hours later, they were back on the cobbled street in the wizarding section of Paris.  Ginny had just gotten several cauldrons and a number of stirring rods from the apothecary and she was at a loss of what else she needed to get.  Madame Boucher wasn’t letting on as to where the next stop was, she was telling Ginny about how it was her responsibility to keep her cauldrons in good condition and to keep track of which one was needed for classes.  Apparently the materials of the cauldrons and stirring rods affected how potions were brewed, something her brothers had never bothered to tell her.

“…But yes, I had been trying to brew a spot remover potion in my copper cauldron and it was still brewing when I needed it for class.  I decided to bring my pewter one along, but it turned out we were brewing a Strengthening Solution that day, which expands rapidly if not brewed in a copper cauldron!  Ah, here we are!”  She steered Ginny into a shop on their left.

Once Ginny’s eyes had adjusted to the blindingly bright light in the shop, her jaw dropped in amazement.  There were shelves upon shelves of shoes as far as the eye could see.  All the shoes within her sight were pretty, dainty little things, nothing like the sensible, laced up leather ankle boots she had always worn.  She had never had new shoes of her own either: her brothers shoes never fit her so her mother would take her down to the second-hand shoe store in Diagon Alley and purchase the most sensible, boring, cheapest, and easily reparable shoes she could find.  Sometimes she wished that she could fit into her brothers hand-me-down shoes because some of the shoes had a stench in them that even the strongest charms could get rid of.  If she had to have stinky, old shoes, she’d at least like to recognize who the stench belonged to.

“Hmm, I don’t suppose you’re used to wearing heels?”  Ginny shook her head.  “Well, the uniform shoes are required to be one inch high for your first year and they will increase in increments of one-quarter of an inch every year following.  Let’s look for your everyday shoes to have heels between half an inch and three-quarters of an inch.”  She strode off down the long aisle, elegant robes billowing out behind her.  Ginny walked quickly to keep up with her, gasping at the variety of shoes she passed.  They finally arrived at a section with considerably duller colors than the bright yellows and aquamarines at the front of the store.  Most of these shoes had shorter heels that Ginny felt that she might be able to walk in if she took care.

Moments later a shopkeeper came running up to them.  “Madame Boucher,” he said with a slight bow.  “Comment est-ce que je peux vous aider?”

Madame Boucher raised her eyebrows and looked towards Ginny, nodding slightly.  Ginny’s mouth went dry as she realized she needed to talk to this man.  “Er – Je vuex… chaussures? Pour l’academie.”

“Ahh!  Oui, vous etes arrives au meilleur magasin!  Toutes,” he spread his arms out and gestured to the entire store, “les chaussures ont des charmes parfaits d'ajustement.”  Ginny racked her brain, wishing this man would speak more slowly, but he continued talking at a mile a minute.  “Je suis dans l’atelier.”  He gave them another funny little bow before turning around and briskly walking towards the back of the shop.

“You’re doing much better today, Ginevra,” Madame Boucher’s voice came through the haze in her mind as she still desperately tried to understand what she had been told.  “Your pronunciation could still use improvement and you still need to work on your phrasing: Je recherche des chaussures d'école, sil vous plais would probably have been a better choice.  Nonetheless, you were able to communicate your intentions, which is a step in the right direction.  Now tell me, what did you pick up from what he said to you?”

“Er –“ Ginny desperately tried to clear her mind.  “Something about the shop and a charm on the shoes.”

“Very good!” Ginny dared a peak upwards and saw a broad smile on her teacher’s face.  “Specifically, he said that you had come to the right shop if you wanted shoes and that the shoes here have perfect-fit charms on them.”  When Ginny’s mouth gaped open, she continued.  “Please close your mouth, Ginevra, no one else wants to see your tonsils.  Yes, I know how expensive perfect-fit charms are, but it’s a requirement so that we don’t have to come back every time someone has a growth spurt.”  She leaned a little closer and whispered conspiratorially, “I personally think whoever made the silly rule just didn’t like shopping.”

-----

Several hours later, they emerged from the shop, having bought half a dozen pairs of new shoes.  There was the standard school shoe, two pairs of low black heels for winter wear, sandals in black, brown, and cream, and a pair of fuzzy slippers for the chilly mornings..  She clutched Madame Boucher’s arm as they Apparated back to the palace, just in time for lunch.  She gasped in surprise when they reached the palace.  She had seen it yesterday, to be sure, but she had been more asleep than awake and hadn’t been too concerned about taking in her surroundings.  Today they seemed to have arrived at a different entrance, since she was certain that she would’ve noticed the heat and humidity of the greenhouses they were currently standing in.  She desperately wanted to take off her shoes and socks and wriggle her feet in the damp earth while breathing in the heavy fragrance from the surrounding flowers, but she knew that wouldn’t be allowed.  After pausing to take a deep breath, she hurried after Madame Boucher.

They were walking briskly along a stone path in the greenhouses when there was a sudden rumble of thunder.  Ginny, startled, stopped and squinted around, noticing dark clouds swirling behind her in the impossibly high ceiling of the greenhouse.  “Merde,” Madame Boucher hissed, frantically thrusting her wand out in front of her.  A large burgundy umbrella appeared in mid-air, which she caught, unfurling the fabric while beckoning Ginny towards her.  Once she was safely under the large umbrella, she was assaulted by her teacher’s wand.  “There,” she said grimly.  “I’ve cast Impertuble charms on the two of us so we won’t get drenched to the skin.  We must hurry though, these pathways become streams during the weekly storms.  I had forgotten today was a thunderstorm day.”

Ginny nodded, quite terrified, and began to jog so that she could remain under the cover of the umbrella.  Moments later the rain hit with ferocity she had never seen, even during the harshest of summer storms.  They broke out into a run as the water began lapping at their feet.

Finally, after what seemed hours but really was only a few minutes, they approached a heavy wooden door.  Madame Boucher thrust the umbrella into Ginny’s hands as she placed a hand on the door and began whispering frantically.  Finally, she grabbed the handle and threw the door open, pushing Ginny inside and all the while vanishing the umbrella.

“I’m terribly sorry about that,” she said, brushing a wet tendril out of her face.  While Ginny was bone dry, her teacher clearly paid less attention to the strength of the charms she placed on herself.  The hair on the left side of her head was soaked and there was a curious, perfectly round, circle of damp on the front of her robes.  “I forgot that today is Friday.  Since there are no lessons on Friday afternoons, there’s a scheduled thunderstorm in the greenhouses during that time.  The other afternoons simply see a soft rain shower that doesn’t interfere with lessons.  We should be able to see it through these windows.”

Sure enough, there were large windows looking out onto the greenhouses.  The path they had been walking on moments before was now a tumultuous stream.  “It’s ingenious, isn’t it?” Madame Boucher continued softly.  “The paths turn into aqueducts during the storms.  You haven’t seen them, but the far end of the greenhouses is arid and never gets any rain.  All of the water there comes from these weekly storms and is brought by the paths.”

“How tall are they?”  Ginny asked.  “I couldn’t see the top of them and the clouds were much higher than I thought they’d be.”

“The top is level with the top of the palace, so six stories.  The apartments above us are the most coveted by the faculty since the windows can be open year-round.  Rumor has it that I’m slated to get one next year when Madame Vizzolli retires, but we’ll see.  Come now, let’s go see what’s for lunch.”

-----

The dining hall was very different from what Ginny had heard the Great Hall at Hogwarts was like.  There were many round tables, each seating eight people, with a very large oval table in the center of the room where all of the teachers sat.  The tables were made of a dark, highly polished wood and the chairs had deep purple, velvet cushions.  There were a few other girls who looked about her age sitting at one of the tables.  Madame Boucher steered her over to this table and introduced her.

“Ginevra,” she said to the girls, pointing at Ginny.  “Helena,” she pointed at a girl with wavy blonde hair, “Isabella,” a girl with very thick, curly black hair with bluish highlights, “Olga,” a girl with pin-straight chestnut hair, “et Sophia.  Bon appétit!”

“Bonjour?”  Ginny said meekly as she sat down.  The purple cushion on the chair was truly heavenly, she decided.  She’d have to write a letter to Fred and George about how she could go about sneaking one of them up to her room.

“Bonjour,” the girl introduced as Helena responded.  “Je suis Lena, je n’aime pas Helena.”  She wrinkled her nose.

“Je n’aime pas Isabella,” the black haired girl commented.  “Je suis Isa.”

“J’aime Olga,” the chestnut haired girl huffed.

Sophia laughed.  She and Olga looked to be identical twins.  “Mere est Olga,” she whispered loudly.  “J’ai le meilleur nom des deux de nous.”

Everyone laughed at that and Ginny began eating.  The food was strange to her, but still palatable.  There were little baguettes no longer than her hand that she finally decided to stuff with cheese, similar to her lunch the previous day.  After she had finished her sandwich, she decided to try talking to the others again, who were remarkably quiet.

“Je suis –“ she screwed her nose up trying to recall the proper words, “Englis?”

“Angleterre,” Olga corrected her.  “Nous sommes le Pologne.”

“La Pologne!”  Sophia shouted gleefully.  “Vous avez obtenu quelque chose fausse pour une fois!”

“Qu'est-ce que?”  Isa said, frowning.  “Je suis L’Espange.”

“Je suis Deutschland,” Lena said, shrugging.  “Je deteste le francais nom pour Deutschland,” she added as Olga opened her mouth.

“Ah, bein.”  A teacher Ginny didn’t recognize came over to the table, placing her hand on the back of Isa’s chair.  “Tu es prêt, Isabella?”

“Oui,” she said, getting out of her chair.  “Bonjour!”

Ginny frowned, wondering where she was going, before she smelled Madame Boucher’s perfume.  “Are you ready to return to your rooms, Ginevra?”

“Oh, yes,” she said, as she scraped her chair back against the stone floor.  “Bonjour!” she said, waving to the others as she left.

“So this is the start of the immersion program,” Madame Boucher told her as they began walking up a beautifully crafted stone staircase.  “I’m still going to speak to you in English when we’re along a little while longer, but when you’re with the others, French is the only common language amongst you so you’ll be forced to speak it.”

“The other professor –“

“That would be Madame Nilsson, the Herbology professor,” Madame Boucher informed her.

“Right, she spoke to Isa in French, right?”

“Isabella is from Spain.  Spanish is very similar to French and the immersion program was optional for her.  She wisely decided that she would be better off having a full grasp of French by the time she began taking lessons.”

“I couldn’t understand half of what Olga and Sophia were saying either,” Ginny stated glumly.

Madame Boucher laughed.  “They’re twins, Ginevra, highly competitive twins at that.  While you began studying French from your primers solely for the purpose of school, they began learning it as a competition.  Olga typically flaunts her large vocabulary while Sophia nitpicks her grammar.  They also began speaking to each other solely in French months ago whereas you had no one to speak it with.  You’re in the same boat as Helena, you aren’t alone.”

Ginny walked along quietly, barely noticing the beautiful marble busts swiveling around the hallway to remark at her magnificent hair color.  She barely paid attention to the lecture on the importance of the busts, what famous painting that was on the wall, or the magnificence of the inlay charms used to add the delicate strands of silver to the dark woodwork.  She nearly ran over Madame Boucher when she stopped in front of a richly decorated archway.

“Ginevra, pay attention,” she scolded.  “As I was saying, this is the dormitory for your year.  There are six of you, so two of the bedrooms have been sealed off.  The door in the center is the entrance to the lavatory.  Now, you have the afternoon to get settled into your room: all of your packages should have arrived by now.  I’ll come pick you up later to make sure you don’t get lost on the way to dinner.”  Her eyes twinkled at this and Ginny suddenly realized that she hadn’t been particularly sneaky in not paying attention.  She had the grace to look sheepish and stared resolutely at her scuffed black boots.  When she looked up she realized she was alone in the hallway, so she trudged over to the door marked Ginevra Weasley and pushed it open, resolving to spend the entire afternoon studying her primers.

-----

Translations

Comment est-ce que je peux vous aider? – How may I help you? (This is a translation from Babelfish, I think a rough translation is How is it that I may help you?)

Je vuex… chaussures? Pour l’academie – I want… shoes?  For the academy

Ahh!  Oui, vous etes arrives au meilleur magasin – Ahh! Yes, you have arrived at the best shop.

Toutes les chaussures ont des charmes parfaits d'ajustement – All the shoes have perfect-fit charms

Je suis dans l’atelier – I am in the workshop

Je recherche des chaussures d'école, sil vous plais – I look for school shoes, please

Merde – shit

Je suis Lena, je n’aime pas Helena – I am Lena, I don’t like Helena

Je n’aime pas Isabella, je suis Isa – I don’t like Isabella, I am Isa

J’aime Olga – I like Olga

Mere est Olga, J’ai le meilleur nom des deux de nous – Mother is Olga, I have the best name of the two of us

Je suis – Angleterre, Pologne, Espagne – I am England, Poland, Spain

Vous avez obtenu quelque chose fausse pour une fois – You got something wrong for once!

Qu'est-ce que – What is it (Thanks slythheadgirl!)

Je deteste le francais nom pour Deutschland – I hate the French name for Germany

Tu es prêt, Isabella – Are you ready, Isabella