i. BOUNTY fleur delacour

05

FIVE

" real life
was something happening in her
peripheral vision. "
- rainbow rowell

"VIKTOR, MARI, out of the cold now, come along into the warmth... you don't mind, dumbledore? viktor has a slight head cold, so it won't be long before mari gets it..." joked karkaroff, gesturing towards mari and her boyfriend who were side by side, arms and hands linked in a mess of fur clothing. the pair followed karkaroff's direction, ignoring the whispers of their arrival.
   hogwarts was beautiful- beautiful as in divine. the castle was large, surrounded by beautiful landscape, the whole building reeked of warmth and happiness, despite the gloomy weather. enchanted halloween decorations gave the school a delightful childish feel, so different from durmstrangs raw walls, so different from what mari was used to. inside the castle was just as extravagant and enchanting, lit torches and brown stone walls encased the norwegian and bulgarian in an unfamiliar comfort; a bliss.
   until a bunch of hormonal teenagers interrupted everything.
   mere metres into the castle, a group of students who looked to be of similar age the the durmstrang group (but of far less maturity) began fretting in viktor's presence. desire shone in their eyes- until they met mari's, that is- for the eyes of the coldest colours, one a pale ice blue and the other a light piercing grey, filled with superiority, told the teenagers that they needn't bother viktor with their whimsical wishes, for mari would see them punished.
   "calm down mari, you do not need to be so cold- look at this place. this is not durmstrang, i tell you." sighed viktor, still tightly intertwined with the shorter girl.
   "don't tell me to calm down! but you are right, this place is not durmstrang."

☇ ☇ ☇

the durmstrang students had been sat at the end of one of four large tables in the massive dining hall of hogwarts. mari sat beside a blonde haired boy who, in the girls peripherals, looked to be trying to get the attention of viktor, on the other side of mari. the norwegian saw ingrid, who was across from her, examining the golden cutlery already set out on the table. mari had taken off her large coat and matching hat, leaving her in the regular uniform and the formal red cloak. after looking down at herself to check all was in order, she began surveying the room; the four tables of the hall each had somewhat of a colour scheme (mari guessed this was hogwarts own separation) and contained a variety of students on each. the first table she saw (on the opposite side of the hall) was one of red and gold, full of students who looked to be craning their heads to get a look at the other schools. the next table contained a large amount of yellow and black clothed students, all smiling happily around the hall. the table next to the one mari was seated at was full of students in blue and gold uniform, also housing the beauxbatons students, mari noticed a veela was amongst these. she made note in her private mind about the immense beauty of this girl.
and then there was her table.
her table was full of green and silver, and the students all looked as though they had something uncomfortable up their asses. it was in her search that she final came to face the blonde boy next to her- and she really wished she hadn't.
"hello. i'm draco malfoy- you've probably heard that name, we're a really old wizard if family. pure blood, of course, i would dare speak my families name if they weren't! are you pure blooded? i would guess so, i mean durmstrang doesn't accept the other sort, do they? or maybe it's only mudbloods they don't accept... well you're from there! what is it then? can half bloods be accepted? also, your eyes! were you born with them?" spat the boy in a ridiculously small amount of time.
mari, having understood almost nothing of the ramble, merely looked at the boy, "hi. i am mari mckinnon." she said.
draco malfoy looked at her bewildered, looking around at her friends in confusion. ingrid and viktor looked like they were bursting to grin, "english is our second language..." mumble ingrid with a smirk, obviously amused and mari's stupid response.
   draco looked slightly embarrassed, almost earning sympathy from mari (until he opened his mouth), "sorry. hi. i. am. draco. malfoy," he drawled as if talking to someone who could not hear, "i. am. a . pure blood. are. you?"
   "am i a pure blood?" replied mari, draco nodded, "you are introducing yourself, and you find that your blood status is a necessary part of that? do you think that because durmstrang doesn't accept muggleborns, that we are prejudice? yes, there is prejudice tradition, but i almost find it rude that you think i would care. i also find it unappealing that you care." continued the girl with an eerily calm, stone-cold tone. with the statement, mari turned around and began talking to viktor.
   "she's pure blood, draco malfoy. please excuse her, she can be rather tempered." cooed ingrid, shooting dirty looks to mari as if to say 'what the fuck are you doing?'. mari raised her eyebrows in response as if to say 'whatever the fuck i want. fight me.'

☇ ☇ ☇

"good evening ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and - most particularly - guests," spoke dumbledore, the hogwarts headmaster, "i have great pleasure in welcoming you all to hogwarts. i hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable." the man spoke with twinkling eyes, and a sort of happiness and warmth absent from durmstrang. mari could have been caught forever in the pure momentum of the atmosphere in which the hogwarts students and staff engaged in, had a pretentious laugh not cut through the air, coming from the table of blue. more specifically, the beauxbatons academy, and even further specifically, the veela; the most beautiful girl mari had ever seen. now, having seen her more, mari could say this.
   in this laugh, mari found that she could have transferred her intense focus from hogwarts to the soft, delightful face of the blonde beauty. but once again, her concentration was broken.
   "the tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast, i now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home."

mari found herself drawn to the table next to her as soon as the feast had begun. she wasn't sure why, but she soon found a reason- whether it was her original or not.
   "uh, excuse me," mari spoke softly to a male of the blue table, a little ways down from the veela, "i had thought that i had seen pinnekjøtt? uh it is a- uh- meat dish?" the blank look on the face of the boy she was talking to reminded her that these people were not used to her accent as her friends were.
   soon catching on, though, the boy replied, "oh is that the weird dish that no ones ever seen before? i heard some of the people speaking about it a couple chairs down." he seemed to contemplate for a moment before adding: "also, you have beautiful eyes."
   "uh, thanks! i am mari." the norwegian said on an intake, not forgetting her manners.
   "michael corner, ravenclaw. my house that is." informed michael, putting a name to the blue table. intrigued by the hogwarts 'houses', mari wished to continue talking, but believed she would have many opportunities for learning during her time at the school, so she opted for a curt nod before heading off towards the pinnekjøtt (or the veela).

   "excuse me?" spoke mari's norwegian voice, rather harshly in contrast to the songful accents of the french surrounding her.
   many of the beauxbatons students stopped and stared at the girl, but mari's eyes, naturally given the species, drew to the blonde girl with the soft face. feeling her look, this girl took it upon herself to reply, "hi... are you looking for zomething? a dish perhaps? we 'ave a few odd ones 'ere..." rambled the girl, gesturing around the table. it was as if, this girl of immense beauty, this creature of smooth conversation and charm, was nervous. not alone in these nerves, mari merely gestured towards the dish of her country, accepting it from another french next to the veela.
   "uh, thanks," she mumbled, "- you are very nice." she added hastily, without thought.
   and with that small comment, that rushed and simple remark, fleur delacour felt butterflies build in her stomach.

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