MATTER OF TIME ✧·*°࿐
❝rebuild it like a vase,
like a shattered crown ❞
When Juliette begins her life at Hogwarts, the world she is thrown into is a stark contrast to her life at home, as a child of French wizarding nobility.
The Dark Lord is not a...
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THE NEXT MORNING was quiet for Juliette. In fact, no one spoke to her at all. She wondered if she had done something wrong, but she couldn't imagine the girls were angry about her stupid trick... they probably just didn't like her. Instead of fretting over it, she ignored them too, determined to treat them no better than they treated her.
Unfortunately, that left her to manage her first day at school by herself. Making her way to breakfast on the first day was always going to be nerve-wracking, but doing it alone was enough to make Juliette feel sick, and she seriously considered skipping it. The thought of walking into that hall again, swarmed by students, was not a pleasant one.
But the food. Juliette's stomach felt considerably empty, and she couldn't help but to be curious about the food at school. She prayed there would be fresh bread, or at least some sort of toast, jam... anything but eggs. She had had enough of those to last a lifetime, or two lifetimes, even.
Once her hunger had gotten the better of her, she made her way to the Great Hall and sat at the very edge of the Slytherin table, taking a look at the foods that were layed out. Porridge, she thought dejectedly, looking at the table and picking up an apple, though not before getting a shove from an older student. Feeling suddenly claustrophobic, she got up from the table.
Just as she was about to leave, though, she noticed everyone looking up. Her eyes followed theirs, and she saw scores of owls soaring into the Great Hall, dropping letters and parcels onto almost every student's plate. Her mouth fell open at the sight. The sound of excited chatter filled her ears, until it was almost to loud to hear herself think, and she blinked and looked hopefully down at her own plate.
It was empty. But it was only the first day, anyway. Later, perhaps. Out of over fifty staff members at home, someone was bound to think of writing to her. She thought of them quite frequently, after all. She would write home at the earliest opportunity, she decided, and would then get an answer. In the meantime, she had lessons to find.
-
Three weeks went by, and no one wrote to Juliette. Not even a reply from when she sent a short note. She was finding it hard to hide her disappointment... everyone got letters. Students even got letters from the orphanage, for merlin's sake. She was just about the only one in the whole school that was always sitting empty handed as everyone opened their post in the mornings, and she knew it hadn't gone unnoticed. Well, maybe it wasn't because of the letters, but she definitely hadn't gone unnoticed, anyway.
" — see, that's her. Over there — "
" — she's a Lenoir. Y'know, that French family that died in the fire? — "
