La Magnifique

Où est Madame Maxime?

Where is she? God, I’m scared. Those evil men, the ones that are holding the poor people in the air. Why has she disappeared?

Nathalie. Oh, there she is. She’s running up to Caroline and me, slowly, though, due to her grand size. Now she’s dragging us along with her, towards the campsite. Mama and Papa are waiting for me. And Valerie is as well. Mama hugs me. The warmth helps. I’m still going through shock. Madame Maxime is taking Caroline back to her tent. I watch them over my mother’s arms.

Now my father. He’s the assistant to the French Minister of Magic. He hugs me as well, but not as warmly. I can tell he’s tired. And then to Valerie. She whispers, in English, Nathalie, we thought that we lost you! Where’d you disappear? I shrug. Valerie often speaks to me in English, because my parents know very little. It’s like a private language we share. Valerie and I are very close.

Now we go inside. My brother Charlot is already sleeping. So I climb into my own bed in the next room and sleep.

* * * * *

Dear Nathalie, it read, you’d love to be at Beauxbatons this year. They’re holding the Triwizard Tournament. It’s been a hundred years since they last held it, I think. I’m definitely going for it. In two weeks about ten of us will be going to Hogwarts. Hogwarts! Imagine what a wonderful chance to practice my English. Pray for me, Nathalie, that I don’t get myself killed. And that I get to be Beauxbatons champion! Love always, Valerie. Postscript – Fleur the nasty is going for it, too. I hope she isn’t made champion!

I miss my sister when she goes to school. When she’s home, I don’t feel so different. But when the school year starts, I head to the lycée rather than a school of magic. I can’t help that I’m a squib!

It wasn’t bad, though. Well, I mean that it wouldn’t be so bad, if I weren’t mentally retarded, either. I’m convinced that there’s absolutely nothing wrong with me. And Valerie agrees. But my other peers don’t seem to think so.

I’m in a special school now for mentally retarded children. The Madrigal School for Girls, I think it’s called. I’ve never been one to pay much attention to detail. And I go home everyday, seeing as my parents live in Paris – the other students come from around Europe.

Valerie is one of my only friends. There’s just her and Caroline, who I met at a squibs support group I once attended. But Caroline’s not a squib – it’s her sister, but she’s proven to be a good friend nonetheless. And she’s my age as well, making her even closer. I’ve never been too happy about our faraway friendship, though, because I see Caroline even less than I see Valerie.

Valerie’s letter, though, seemed to open something inside of me. Going to watch her at Hogwarts would allow me to experience some of the things I had been denied as a squib. I could watch the magic occurring at school, and not be denied the opportunity. Though my parents do love me very much, they’ve always tried to protect me – especially by exposing me to as little magic as possible. Though I’ve always had a say – I love to watch quidditch, although I have terrible balance on top of the broom. Watching the Triwizard Tournament would not be denied from me if Valerie were participating.

* * * * *

I can’t believe it. Valerie’s *Fleur the Nasty* has indeed been selected as Beauxbatons champion. I was so devastated when Valerie’s letter arrived. My hopes of watching were extinguished.

Mama and Papa made feeble attempts to comfort me, but their help was of no use. My chance to be a normal member of the magical community had passed. I was desperate to show that I was not a useless squib, but a powerful witch with much hidden talent.

* * * * *

Mama and Papa have surprised me. I’m allowed to watch the third task of the Triwizard Tournament! It sounded as though Valerie had put some pleading in on my behalf, but I was forever grateful for her efforts. Father had rented us a house in Hogsmeade for a two-week’s stay, starting the day before the final task. I was ecstatic at the prospect of being at the event – the papers had announced that the boy wonder, Harry Potter, was a champion alongside the three standard ones. I had always wanted to meet him, as I owed him my life.

There were three things that the Dark Lord hated: muggles, mudbloods, and squibs. Though everyone lived in fear, the three minorities to the magical community were the greatest at risk. But the French ministry disregarded the events as threatening, as there are very few mudbloods in France who are practicing wizards or witches. The only ones who didn’t, however, were those with squibs in their families. Like mine.

My parents have always told Valerie, Charlot, and me how lucky we are to be living. And the three of us recognized the boy who was only a year old at the time as our savior.

* * * * *

I never pictured the task to be as exciting as it was. Everyone sighed when Fleur and Viktor Krum, the superb Bulgarian seeker, went out. Now only the two Hogwarts students, Cedric Diggory and Harry Potter, were left.

Cedric was indeed rather attractive. Valerie had mentioned him to be so in quite a few of her letters. I cheered when both boys went to reach for the cup. But, to my astonishment, within seconds both had disappeared. From the panic on quite a few of the official’s faces, I knew that this had not been planned. And Valerie, who had been sitting next to me for the entire task, hugged me close. And I let her, because I was afraid of letting go.

* * * * *

I, to this day, have no idea of how long the two were gone. But I saw Harry return with Cedric’s lifeless form, and this greatly reminded me of the stories of my early life, when the innocent were always the first to go. When my family went to the Beauxbatons carriage later that night to talk with Madame Maxime (my parents and Maxime were very old friends), we learned that nothing had gone that night according to plan. Though Maxime hadn’t an idea of what really went on, the whole prospect of the night was extremely frightening. When we finally did leave on our trek into Hogsmeade, we noticed that the quidditch field had been sealed and that no one was being allowed on the premises.

When we got to the rented house, Mama lifelessly prepared us some cheese for a snack. None of us were hungry at all, and the cheese just sat on the table, uneaten. Papa mentioned ‘checking up on the situation at Hogwarts,’ but changed his mind when he saw how reluctant my mother and I were at letting him go. The night was tiresome, but none of us were really that tired. We sat on the sofa in the main room before Mama got too bored of sitting still and found a book of psalms from her pack. We sat around silently and began to reflect on the words.

God will put his angels in charge of you

To protect you wherever you go

They will hold you up with their hands

To keep you from hurting your feet on the stones

You will trample down lions and snakes,

Fierce lions and poisonous snakes.

My mother loves turning to the psalms for words of comfort and peace. But none of us was entirely safe. When Mama learned who was behind the portkey, she was so shocked that the day we went to Hogwarts to pick up Valerie (the school year had ended and Valerie would be spending the rest of our stay in Hogsmeade with us) she would not even let me go to the restrooms unoccupied. Mama has always lived in constant fear of my safety, and I know that she has a very good reason. Mama’s afraid that if I ever get into a life-threatening situation, I won’t be able to call for help. The scariest part is that she’s right. If I were to get into trouble, no one could hear me.

I can’t talk.

I suppose that there might be a better reason of why I can’t speak, but I was born this way. I was silent when I was born. I never demonstrated any abilities of speech. I am not deaf – my hearing is entirely adequate. I just cannot make any noises with my mouth.

* * * * *

Today, we are headed to Diagon Alley. I am very confused at this sudden trip – my mother had made no mention before. But my parents took out the floo powder, Valerie announced our destination, and the two of us headed there together. Mama and Papa followed us. We were in what looked like a pub, and Papa lead us to a trash bin, where he carefully counted and lead us into an alley full of shops. I wanted to check out Flourish and Blotts, but Mama quickly redirected me elsewhere. When it looked like we were headed to Ollivander’s Fine Wands, I stopped and gave Valerie a look of puzzlement. My family member’s wands were in perfect working order. I had only watched them each use them the day before. But Valerie pulled me along anyways.

It seemed that the shopkeeper was expecting us. Pierre LeBoeuf? he asked. Papa nodded. So this must be Marie. And Valerie. He took Valerie’s hand and shook it. And so this one must be your Nathalie. I nodded, the confusing thoughts still mingling through my head. Valerie was doing a little bit of rapid translation for my parent’s sake. I understood enough English that the translation was not necessary. The shopkeeper, who said his name was Mr. Ollivader, took my hand and led me to a separate room that looked like a workshop. Here he took my hand, and put a wand inside it.

This is where my puzzlement increased. Why was he giving me a wand? It’s useless to have one if you can’t speak the incantations, because that’s the only way the wood would perform. But Mr. Ollivander was very direct about me holding it. And he told me to think very strongly about the word lumos. Think, he said, of the word. Think of the light that will be produced at the end of the spell. To please him, and thinking that it was at least worth the effort, I did.

The result was magical. Pierre, Marie! Mr. Ollivader called to them. Look what Nathalie has done! The two ran in, followed closely by Valerie. They looked at the result, and hugged me. Oh, Nathalie! they exclaimed, we knew that you could do it!

I smiled weakly. But what good was this wand to do for me if I couldn’t even go to school?

Papa then told me, Nathalie, we’ve made arrangements with the headmaster of Hogwarts. Considering we teach you the basic spells over the rest of the holidays, you can attend school there and enter into your second year. It will be lots of work to catch up, Nathalie. You’re fifteen, and will be taking classes with twelve-year-olds. But we have faith in you. If you do very well, you’ll be allowed to move up the years a little more rapidly than normal.

But it wasn’t the gift of being able to attend wizarding school that made me the happiest. It was that I could too hold a wand. And now I don’t feel so different.

*finis 1/1*