Sean, Aldridge, and Jason stepped out of the local Ministry's gates, the air warm and tinged with a floral sweetness. Aldridge led them to a nearby building under construction, its scaffolding charmed to shimmer faintly. Inside, it buzzed like a magical transit hub. Wizards zipped off on broomsticks, others glided on flying carpets, and some rode majestic creatures like Pegasus, their wings casting shadows. A Disillusionment Charm cloaked each departure, hiding them from Muggle eyes.
Aldridge guided Sean to a grand carriage, its polished wood gleaming. Two enormous Pegasus, as big as elephants, stood hitched to it. Their golden coats sparkled, silver manes flowed, and red eyes glinted with haughty pride—a rare breed unique to Beauxbatons. This carriage was the school's daily transport for students and staff.
"Hello, we're from the Bulstrode family…" Aldridge began.
The red-nosed wizard managing the carriage cut him off, smacking his lips. "I know your lot. I'm here for you. Hop in—I'll give the horses their enchanted brew, and we'll be off."
He hauled a massive barrel from the carriage, setting it before the Pegasus. With a ladle, he fed them a shimmering liquid, taking hearty swigs himself between pours. His flushed nose made sense now—this wizard clearly enjoyed his "brew" as much as the horses did.
Sean watched the Pegasus lap up the liquid, their snorts sending sparks into the air. Turning to Aldridge, he asked, "Before enchanted brews existed, what did these magical horses eat? They've been around longer than such potions, haven't they?"
Aldridge blinked, caught off guard. He frowned, searching his memory, then shook his head. "I'm sorry, young master. I don't know."
"Just curious," Sean said with a shrug. "No big deal."
Aldridge's face lit up. "Your questions are sharp and clever, young master, seeing truths others miss."
Sean, Aldridge, and Jason climbed aboard. The carriage's interior was stunning—plush velvet seats, gilded trim, and a spaciousness that belied its exterior. An extension charm had stretched the space, making it feel like a small parlor. Sean sank into a cushion, marveling at the magic.
"Aldridge, do you know how to cast an extension charm?" Sean asked.
"Yes, Master," Aldridge replied. "If you'd like to learn, I can—"
"Great," Sean cut in, grinning. "Let's duel sometime to test it."
Aldridge froze. "Er… pardon?"
Sean chuckled, letting the moment pass, but filed away Aldridge's skill for later.
Beauxbatons School of Witchcraft and Wizardry nestled in a mountain range, a breathtaking manor glowing against the peaks. Vast grasslands and charmed vistas surrounded it, said to be funded by alchemists Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel, who studied here long ago.
Sean had pictured a grand school, but the real Beauxbatons stunned him. The manor's spires pierced the clouds, its walls shimmering with enchantments. Pegasi and rune horses galloped across the plains, some soaring in graceful arcs, their neighs echoing like a magical choir.
The carriage glided through a misty veil around the school, landing smoothly at a carriage stop behind the manor. A professor and two students awaited them.
Sean stepped down, and the professor approached, his robes flowing. Sean extended a hand, smiling. "Hello, I'm Sean Bulstrode. Thank you for hosting me this month."
"You may call me Professor Maupassant," the professor said, his grip firm. "I'll oversee your stay and studies. Most students and professors are on holiday, so you'll need to study independently."
"That's fine," Sean replied. "I'm here to learn about Beauxbatons' history and unique courses, different from Hogwarts. Self-study suits me."
Maupassant's stern face softened, his smile warming. "A humble attitude. Good." He stepped aside, gesturing to the students. "These are two of my finest. Barre Garcia, entering sixth year, and Fleur Delacour, entering fifth year."
Barre was tall and lanky, his plain robes suggesting a modest background. Yet Maupassant's endorsement marked him as exceptional. Fleur, though, was striking. Her silvery hair and radiant beauty carried the unmistakable allure of Veela heritage, just as Sean recalled from tales of Beauxbatons. Her presence dazzled briefly, but Sean quickly steadied himself, offering polite greetings to both.
Maupassant nodded approvingly at Sean's composure. Glancing at the sky, he said, "It's past noon. You must be hungry. Join us in the Great Hall for some Beauxbatons specialties."
"I'd be delighted, Professor," Sean said.
"No trouble at all," Maupassant replied, leading the way. "Come along."
Beauxbatons' corridors were vast, with soaring ceilings that made Sean feel small. The Great Hall, unlike Hogwarts' long tables, featured round ones, reflecting the school's lack of houses. A central stage stood empty, usually alive with song and dance, but now quiet during the holidays. Only a few students lingered, their chatter soft.
At a round table, Maupassant introduced dishes: herb-crusted fish stew, charmed cream pudding, and sparkling elderflower cordial. Sean took a bite, savoring the delicate flavors—lighter and more refined than Hogwarts' hearty fare.
As they ate, a group of Beauxbatons students burst into the hall, chasing each other with laughter and shouts. Their noise shattered the calm, drawing frowns from Maupassant and curious glances from Sean.
The sudden uproar in the Great Hall darkened Professor Maupassant's face like a storm cloud rolling in. Known for his strict adherence to rules and etiquette, he had little patience for chaos.
At Beauxbatons, he was infamous for scolding or punishing troublemakers, and today's disruption—right as he aimed to impress Sean with the school's order—lit a fuse.
Maupassant strode toward the noisy students, his robes swishing. "What are you doing?" he snapped. "Have you no sense of rules? The school lets you stay during the holidays to practice Quidditch, not to rampage through the halls! Out, all of you! I expect a thousand-word reflection essay from each of you by tomorrow. Fail to deliver, and you'll leave campus until term starts!"
Chastised, the students slunk out, heads bowed. Though some grumbled inwardly, none dared defy Maupassant—he had the authority to enforce his threat.
Outside the hall, their faces soured, frustration bubbling.
"Didn't expect Maupassant to be here after lunch," one muttered. "He's the strictest professor in Beauxbatons."
Another frowned. "I saw strangers at his table. Anyone know who that kid was, eating with him?"
They exchanged blank looks, stumped. Then one spoke up, thoughtful. "Wait—I heard a Hogwarts student is coming for a month-long exchange. Maybe that was him."
"Gotta be," another agreed, eyes narrowing. "Maupassant wouldn't linger in the hall otherwise. That Hogwarts kid got us in trouble. If I get the chance, I want to see what he's made of."
Lunch wrapped up, and Maupassant excused himself. His warm welcome had been a nod to the Bulstrode family's influence, which carried weight even in Beauxbatons' region, though less overtly than at Hogwarts.
He tasked Barre and Fleur with guiding Sean, Aldridge, and Jason around the school and showing them to their dormitory.
The dormitory was roomy, with three neatly made beds, charmed windows offering mountain views, and a faint lavender scent in the air.
Barre and Fleur handed Sean a map of Beauxbatons and a pass, then left without lingering, their polite but distant demeanor clear.
Watching them go, Sean smirked. "Seems Beauxbatons students aren't exactly rolling out the welcome mat."
Aldridge's eyes gleamed. "Many lack vision, young master. They can't see your brilliance."
Sean chuckled, warmth spreading at the flattery. He wouldn't admit how much he enjoyed it. Picking up the map and pass, he said, "Let's rest a bit, then head to the library. A month's short—we need to make it count."
The Beauxbatons library stood apart from the manor, a sunlit building on the estate's southern edge. Reaching it required crossing the Quidditch pitch, where players zipped through the air, and a fragrant garden buzzing with charmed butterflies.
The library's five floors had strict access rules: the first was open to all, the second to fifth-years and above, the third required professor approval, the fourth was professors-only (students needed supervision), and the fifth held dangerous, top-secret tomes, off-limits to most professors. Few knew its contents.
Gideon's arrangements granted Sean third-floor access, though he could only read those books on-site, without copying or borrowing. First- and second-floor books could be borrowed and returned when he left.
Sean led Aldridge and Jason to the library, its entrance framed by enchanted vines. He started on the first floor, browsing Potions and Transfiguration—his strongest subjects. But the collection surprised him. Unlike Hogwarts, Beauxbatons had a wealth of alchemy books, a subject absent from Hogwarts' curriculum. Intrigued, Sean gathered a few unfamiliar Potions and Transfiguration texts, plus a stack of alchemy primers, and settled by a window overlooking the Quidditch pitch.
Aldridge grabbed two books, sitting nearby to read, his posture as polished as ever. Jason, though skilled with spells like the Shield Charm—a feat for someone his age—had no love for books. He slumped by the window, staring glumly at the Quidditch players darting outside, their shouts faint through the charmed glass.
Meanwhile, in her private dormitory, Fleur Delacour sipped afternoon tea, her silver hair catching the light. During holidays, she visited Beauxbatons to study or handle tasks, always pausing for tea and scholarly journals. Her favorites included a regional alchemy journal, The Philosopher's Stone, a northern wizarding region's spell journal, The Wand, and the Hogwarts-region's The Golden Crucible (Potions) and Animagus (Transfiguration).
A house-elf appeared with a soft pop, bowed, and placed six journals on her desk before vanishing. Fleur flipped through them, her eyes sharp. When she reached the latest The Golden Crucible, a title on the cover stopped her cold.
"Sean Bulstrode?" she murmured, her brow arching.
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