Sixth year - October 31st

2013. Thursday

The car starts to move.

Clare's sitting in the back with Corinna and Teddy and a girl named Bridget Reimsworth. They're the only one who aren't in seventh years. The girls are in sixth year and the boy in fifth. It's not like it's forbidden to be part of the delegation but if they don't respect the age limit, they couldn't be chosen by the cup of fire.
Clare doesn't mind, that isn't the reason why she attended the trip in a flying car that can turn invisible (like one Ford Anglia, thanks to Arthur Weasley, Victoire's granddad).
If she asked to be part of the delegation, it's because she had her own reason. And it's about Ian and his mother hospitalized somewhere in Bordeaux and since it's said that Beaux Batons is somewhere in the Pyrenees...
Yeah, it's really sloppy. 

The next time she opens her eyes, the car is landing in the middle of mountains.

Suddenly, the British students are surrounded by a mass of blue uniform who leads them to the center of a field. A football field if Clare isn't mistaking. They don't have to wait too long before the Durmstrang delegation comes with another mass of blue uniform. Apparently, the Northern School's arrival was a lot more impressive than theirs. Clare doesn't doubt that, anything would be a lot more impressive than a flying car who can turn invisible. Like a Viking boat. Or a big carriage lead by flying horses, big flying horses if she heard it correctly.
Anyway, the two foreigners delegations are now assembled in the big field and are waiting for the welcome speech by a student. It's the president of the student council who is a seventh year.
"What's the students council?" Clare whispers to Corinna.
Maybe her best friend won't know much but since she's French, it worths a try. And once again, Corinna doesn't disappoint her.
"It's like the head boy or head girl in Hogwarts. The president of the students councils is surrounded by two vice-presidents who can be his inheritor the next year. There is also a secretary slash computable, all of them has the same power as our prefects."
"Oh, ok, thanks." Clare quickly keeps her mouth shut when the crowd begins to dispatch.
Since she doesn't hear much of the speech, she's taken aback when all of her items are retired. Like her bag, her Ravenclaw scarf, Ravenclaw gloves and Hogwarts robe.
She doesn't have the time to complain that the president, who she doesn't even know the name, stands in front of her and signs her some way.
"Hm, je suis désolée mais que doit-on faire?"

She makes an effort to speak in French, because well, she's on its land and French people like when foreigners speak their idiom.

The president looks at her quite longly then smiles suddenly, making Clare blushes and an attempt to smile awkwardly.
"Tu dois te changer pour vêtir notre uniforme, c'est la règle," he gives her a pack of clothes that are really soft against her skin. Soft and thin and blue sky. "Tu le sais peut-être déjà mais je suis Yves Delvaux et tu es?"
Before she could answer, she hears her friend snorts and it's really unexpected because Corinna only snorts when she's mocking about something. And well, it's not like the name Yves is laughable. Except if it's a French private jock. To distract the bad mood which will surely come if she lets her best-friend intervene, she introduces herself.
"Je m'appelle Clare Landresse."
"Enchanté, es-tu une septième année?"
"Oh non, je suis en sixième année. Euh... La raison de ma présence..."
She doesn't have the time to complete her sentence that some noises rises behind her and the president shouts something likes those line:
"Retournez au palais, bande de barbare! Les sang-de-bourbe n'écoutent donc rien?"
"Sang-de-bourbe?"

Clare widens her eyes. It's the first time she hears that word.

"Oh, c'est ainsi que nous appelons ceux que vous anglophones appelez Mudblood, je crois." Yves answers her lightly.

Clare blinks. Did he just...? What does he think she is? Pure blood? The single thought makes her want to laugh looking at the irony from her second year. But she composes herself and bows slightly.

"Eh bien, la sang-de-bourbe va de ce pas se diriger au palais sans vous déranger davantage."
With that said, she thinks that maybe Yves isn't wrong. Being a Mudblood, she didn't even listen to him.

At the welcoming banquet, there's plenty round table on the center of the refectory for the students while the teachers (fifty of them including Minerva McGonagall, Hogwarts' deputy headmistress) sit on the long table with tablecloth and all the fancy stuff. Not really interested by another welcoming speech (even if she doesn't even listen the first one), Clare lays her eyes on the room and counts the number of the students here. They're basically one thousand whereas Hogwarts has only three hundreds, less since the second magic war. However, the British wizard school has mainly, well, British students, you know. While Beaux Bâtons Academy has at least nine nationalities among its students. She doesn't know much about Durmstrung Institute but a quick look to the table surrounds by dark and serious aura tells her they aren't there for fun (unlike four underage Hogwarts students who couldn't attend the tournament because they don't have the required age), there are only eighteen of them but everyone of the seventh year seem to be a potential champion.

It's only when the goblet of fire is introduced in front of everyone by the Beaux Bâtons headmaster (that she doesn't hear the name, again), Clare focuses on the speech.
"Now I will let you young people eat and savour the meal. But don't forget: you could put your name only the next day and don't try to trick, the age limit is for something."
And it's in English. Now, she doesn't even have an excuse to explain why she didn't hear the speech.
Great.