Que Sera Sera

Chapter Three

The next morning called for the start of lessons, and the timetables were given out. Without glancing at it, Harry threw it into his bag that was slung over his shoulder and went down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

He was one of the first students there. Looking up at the enchanted ceiling, Harry saw that the day was clear, with not a cloud in the sky; a perfect September morning.

Taking a seat at the Gryffindor table, he looked over the multitude of dishes before him and chose a few small sausages and some scrambled eggs, placing them on his plate. Pouring some pumpkin juice into his glass, he removed his bag, opening it and taking out a textbook.

After a short while, he was absorbed in the book and didn't hear someone sitting down next to him.

"Advanced Potions for Smart Students," muttered a voice over Harry's book, "light reading, I guess?"

Lowering his book from his face, Harry silently chuckled at the thought of him turning into Hermione. The voice belonged to the Beauxbatons girl, instead of being covered in dust, she was now clean and clothed in Gryffindor robes.

"Yeah," he laughed, "you can never be too prepared for Snape. He's a terror of a teacher."

"Oh," she replied, spooning porridge onto her plate. "You obviously want to please him, I mean you're already doing homework."

"Yeah, I guess so," answered Harry half-heartedly, thinking about the past six years worth of Potions lessons.

"Anyway," she said, changing the subject, "you're Harry, right?"

"Yeah, I'm the Harry, if you were asking."

"Yeah, yeah, I don't care about that," she muttered, shaking her head. "Hermione asked me to give you this."

Reaching into her bag, she pulled out the diary that they had found the night before.

"I don't want it," Harry replied, looking away from the book and the girl.

"But, I think you should have it. It belongs to someone you know, or so Hermione thinks."

She passed the book to him and he looked at the now clean cover, which was engraved with the letters L.E.

"I mean I thought it belonged to someone in my family, with the last name, but I don't know anyone called Lily," she said, carelessly spooning her porridge and letting it dribble back into the bowl.

"Lily?" Exclaimed Harry. Lily was his mother.

"Yeah, it belongs to a Lily Evans, Hermione thinks you know her."

"Not really," muttered Harry, wishing he did, but then thinking to why the girl thought it belonged to her. "Your last name's Evans, right?"

"Yep, I'm Angela, Angela Evans from Beauxbatons Academy. Call me Angie for short."

"Hi Angie, pleased to meet you, but let me ask one thing, if I may," asked Harry, looking at her hand, which was holding the spoon full of porridge.

"For sure."

"You're from Beauxbatons, but you're English. I though it was a French school. Shouldn't you be at Hogwarts?"

"No, not really," she replied, blushing slightly, "my parents are English, but I was born in France. They thought it would be best if I still spoke English, but French is my best language."

"But you were speaking English with Philippe," Harry added, remembering her conversation with Philippe the night before. Philippe was also a seventh year and was now in Harry's dorm. The others had moved the beds around so quietly the night before so as not to wake Harry.

"Yeah, that's because of Dumbledore, he thought it would be more polite if we all spoke English here, so you all understand us and so we can all improve. I might be pretty good, but some of us are awful."

"Oh," replied Harry, placing his textbook back into his bag and picking up the diary, his mum's diary. "Look, Angie, I'm really sorry, but I got to go back to the common room, I've forgotten something for Defence against the Dark Arts. I didn't know I had it first up."

"That's fine," she said, waving at him as he left the Hall.

Walking out of the Hall, Harry almost ran into Lexey.

"Hey, hey, Potter, watch it," she laughed grabbing Harry by the shoulders.

"Sorry Lex, I'm in a hurry, okay. Talk to you later, alright?"

"Yeah, that's cool," she answered, turning back to her Ravenclaw friends.

Walking back through the portrait hole, Harry noticed that there was not a Gryffindor in sight. He sat on an armchair and hastily opened the diary.

This is the personal diary of I, Lily Evans, current seventh year Gryffindor and Head Girl at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

This diary is not to be read by nosy people, this is my personal thoughts, mine and mine alone.

So, if you're reading this, GET OUT before I clamp your hands in a few good books!!!

Harry shut the book as he heard someone enter the common room. Turning towards the portrait hole, he could see no one. Somewhere in the girls' dorm came a cry of laughter.

It was strange, reading his mother's thoughts when she was his age. This was his chance to get to know her, well, at least the seventh year her. Maybe he could finally find out if Voldemort was telling the truth about her joining his side, but as he was about to open the book once more, the clock above the fireplace chimed.

Looking up at it, Harry noticed that it read 'time for lesson'.

Racing out of the common room, and through the halls, Harry made it to the Defence against the Dark Arts room sheer moments before Fleur entered and locked the door.

"Bonjour students," she welcomed, waving her hands in the air. Her pale blonde hair was engulfed in a halo of plaits, showing off her amazing bone structure and clear blue eyes that were further enhanced by the midnight blues robes she was wearing.

"Welcome to ze start of a new year, but I warn you, it will not be any easier zan last year. In fact, I can guarantee zat it will be very difficult," she added, a wicked glint in her eye.

She took the roll and stopped when she reached Angie's name.

"Evans, Angela, oh Angie, ma petite ange," she cried, smiling at Angie, who was sitting at this back of the class.

Standing, Angie walked up to Fleur and embraced her.

"Beauxbatons has missed you so much Fleur. Life just isn't the same without you."

"But now, we are back togezer. 'Ere, at 'ogwarts. It is a great place, so many nice people."

"She still hasn't met Malfoy," muttered Ron, who was sitting next to Harry.

Harry tried to hide his laughter but it was impossible. Before he knew it, Fleur was standing over him, a stern look on her face.

"'arry, zis is no time for laughter."

"Sorry, Professor," he gasped, attempting to restrain himself.

"Zat is quite enough. Now, if 'arry 'as stopped amusing 'imself, we will get on to some work."

Unlike many teachers, Fleur took a more relaxed approach to teaching, calling the students by their first names and asking to be called Professor Fleur. But beautiful as she was, the class couldn't help but groan as they began to study Kappas in more detail than they ever thought possible.