There was plenty said about Beauxbatons itself in open sources, but very little about its exact location. Apolline spoke of the castle's breathtaking beauty, standing on a cliff, surrounded by well-tended gardens and meadows with a view of the endless sea in the distance. She also talked about feasts accompanied by a choir of nymphs, ice sculptures shimmering with all the colors of the rainbow, and vases with magnificent flowers in the corridors.
In other words, pure emotions.
Patrick was as laconic as always, only mentioning that there were too many scents there, which he disliked because of his furry problem, as well as the ostentation and luxury he wasn't used to. But they also told me about the peculiarities of education, which, however, were described in a colorful brochure that came with the acceptance letter.
Interestingly, unlike Muggle-born and pure-bloods, magical beings need to send applications for admission in advance: the ancient artifact that automatically sends invitations to awakened young wizards, created about seven hundred years ago, simply doesn't invite us. In the times of its creation, the attitude toward magical races was worse than it is now in England.
And what did I glean from everything I knew from brochures, books, and stories from friends and Jacqueline, who graduated from Beauxbatons? Basic education lasts six years, advanced - eight.
Unlike Hogwarts, where there are four houses named after the founders, and such division doesn't make much sense to me given the identical curriculum, or Durmstrang, where there are combat and general faculties, with the first accessible either through considerable money or excellent grades because that's where they teach charms forbidden in many countries, Beauxbatons essentially has no faculties.
However, there's strict division of students by age and gender groups. Girls live in the right wing of the castle, boys in the left, and the same goes for teachers. Just as boys are forbidden from entering the female wing, girls are prohibited from stepping into male territory.
Age division occurs by floors, meaning first years live on the first floor, second years on the second, and so on up to the eighth. This was supposed to ensure that children would study rather than engage in romantic affairs or be subjected to the corrupting influence of older students.
Though everything turned out quite the opposite: forbidden fruit is even sweeter, and each year the number of those trying to sneak into foreign territory doesn't decrease. They're caught and punished, but this doesn't stop them, mostly the boys.
Since there are no houses, instead of competition between them, there's competition between students. Each student can earn points through good studies, helping the school, or athletic achievements, as well as lose them due to punishment for misconduct.
And let me tell you, these points aren't just for show — you can rent yourself a private room for a year or until graduation with them — upon admission you're only allocated a shared room for three people, you can order special menus for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, get passes to closed library sections or permission for free attendance, there are many options.
Muggle-born students are attracted by the possibility of receiving scholarships and free education. I don't know about other schools, but at Beauxbatons education is paid if the average of your grades after the annual exam has a negative number.
The system works like this: there are positive grades:
O — Outstanding — adds three points,
E — Exceeds Expectations — two points,
A — Acceptable — one point.
And negative ones:
P — Poor,
D — Dreadful,
T — Troll, which subtract one, two, and three points respectively.
However, no one forces a poorly performing child or their parents to pay money immediately; this can be done later, after education. The cost of one course is 1200 galleons, so everyone either tries to study well or goes to the cheaper Hogwarts, which is sponsored by the pure-blood board of trustees and the Ministry of Magic, but where they are kings and do whatever they want.
However, don't think that the three main schools of Europe accept just anyone — you need to possess a certain level of magical power for the checking artifact to notice you at all. Such are the pies with kittens.
Oh, one more fact that isn't particularly mentioned openly. Yes, you can get basic education, but in that case, if you don't open your own business or possess special talents, you have nothing to catch in the magical world. Almost all government and not-so-government enterprises require certain grades in various subjects.
Aurors, the magical world's police, need excellent grades in combat magic and potions, Healers — in potions, herbology, and charms, and so on. And if you want to get mastery in some school of magic, with six courses they won't even look at you. Unless, of course, someone influential like Flamel recommends you.
So it turns out that, just like in the ordinary world, life is like earth, and education like a parachute — the later you open it, the harder you'll crash into the ground, if you don't get completely smeared.
Quite a lot was also written about the history of such a remarkable castle.
Hogwarts was founded around the 10th-11th centuries AD by four founders, at that time among the strongest wizards of the British Isles in particular and Europe in general. Initially, the castle was built as a defensive structure, but later, when Godric Gryffindor, Salazar Slytherin, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Helga Hufflepuff began recruiting students, it acquired the functions of a school. Especially when this education became systematic.
What does Hogwarts have to do with this? It was the first known school in Europe that permanently educated wizards. Before this, knowledge was passed only from teacher to student. The founders themselves, according to legend, taught Merlin himself.
In the 14th century, the Hundred Years' War began, but relations between France and England had been heating up long before this in both the ordinary world and the magical one. This was largely connected to the fact that Muggle-born, coming from their world, brought with them enmity and prejudices.
French wizards couldn't tolerate England's hegemony over magical education and built their own school — Beauxbatons. Among its first students stood out the legendary creator of the Philosopher's Stone and elixir of immortality, Nicolas Flamel, and his wife — Perenelle, who subsequently sponsored the development and decoration of their alma mater.
In 1294, the first Triwizard Tournament was held, initiated by Hogwarts with the goal of putting the upstarts from the newly formed French school and Bulgarian Durmstrang in their place. From this moment begins the confrontation and struggle for students between the three schools, each of which had its own specialty.
Durmstrang — dark and combat magic, Beauxbatons — illusions and alchemy, and Hogwarts — was universal thanks to its rich library left by the founders and replenished by headmasters, as well as donations from students of this institution.
Time passed, and because Muggle-born caused more and more problems with their religiosity and attempts to change the magical world, which had been ruled by pure-bloods for centuries, the Statute of Secrecy was adopted. This happened in 1692 at the Summit of the International Confederation of Wizards — the equivalent of the UN in the magical world.
Yes, this didn't happen because of the Inquisition, which they scare children with. After all, an ordinary person simply won't see a wizard if the wizard doesn't want them to. Pure-bloods were afraid of losing their power and influence and therefore isolated and divided the two worlds.
A large-scale ritual was performed that erased all evidence and mentions of the reality of magic and wizards, and since then all wizards strictly observe the Statute and destroy all evidence of their existence.
But it's not all so simple — not only pure-bloods are to blame for this, but also the Muggle-born themselves, who tried to change the world without considering the victims and consequences. Not all dark lords and maniacs were pure-bloods, oh no, on the contrary, most of them were commoners — half-bloods.
Not understanding that you shouldn't meddle where you're not asked, and that you don't enter someone else's monastery with your own charter — therefore they also bear the lion's share of blame for this situation.
And then everything goes by the book — an isolated society begins to degrade and rot if it doesn't have a common enemy or its own goal. And if old families could maintain the development bar thanks to accumulated knowledge and power, the rest began to slowly slide into the abyss of ignorance.
Because of this, the Department of Mysteries was founded, whose goal was to preserve and multiply magical knowledge. You could say they're a semi-religious order dealing only with this. They don't care what dark lords walk the earth, the main thing is that they don't burn books.
Over time, pure-bloods still began to lose power despite all their efforts, and they began to limit Muggle-born in education. They taught their offspring separately, in knowledge that was secret and forbidden at that moment, and in government they promoted laws that reduced the number of openly available disciplines for study, textbooks became thicker and thicker, and there was more and more water in them.
The most amusing thing is that many new discoveries are attempts to reinvent the wheel, that is, this had already been achieved before, the knowledge about it was simply hidden from the masses. However, progress is a stubborn thing, and if one thing is forbidden, it begins to concentrate on another, hence the diversity of household charms.
I've already given exceptions to this — in the USA there aren't such ancient folios anyway, and in China Muggle-born can't count on anything at all without joining a clan. What looks like degradation is actually a consequence of the policy of people who benefit from such a situation.
That's exactly why Muggle-born are taken from their families at 11 and educated in the magical world with full boarding, so they grow up in the magical world and don't meddle later with their reforms. Those who refuse are simply deprived of magic and have their memory erased. That is, they forcibly block the awakened nous.
I figured all this out not in one day or two, but over years of reading books, newspapers, analysis, and observations of wizards. They don't speak or write about this openly — those who are smarter will figure it out themselves, and for those who are dumber, such knowledge would only be harmful.
By the way, from 1800 the history of French magic sharply diverges from England. The Great Revolution influenced not only the ordinary world: veela, goblins, centaurs, werewolves, and vampires raised a rebellion for independence. The latter, however, mostly caused chaos and drank blood with impunity left and right, for which they were expelled from the alliance.
If similar uprisings in England were crushed cruelly and with great bloodshed, in France the numbers were on the side of magical beings, and they managed to win rights for themselves. After this, veela, werewolves, goblins, and centaurs could study at Beauxbatons, as well as half-bloods of other magical races, like half-giants and others.
True, goblins and centaurs, due to the peculiarities of their social structure, are educated in their clans and herds, so you won't see them in schools.
All this leads to the fact that I need school more for a diploma and checkmark, if we consider the education taught there. But if we take into account the library, which, though inferior to the other two schools, isn't by much, as well as the opportunity to establish connections and build a reputation for myself, the question becomes completely different.
These and many other thoughts wandered in my head while the six of us walked to the checkpoint: me, Apolline, Patrick, and our single parents. Though, judging by Alain's predatory look at Jacqueline and the fact that the girl doesn't mind at all, perhaps someone will soon have a complete family. Or maybe not — anything happens in life.
…
[ September 1, 1971. ]
"Son, did you take everything?" Ariel asked me. Woman, that's the wrong question. It's easier to say what I didn't take.
"Of course, Mom, don't worry," but I still try to be a good son and didn't answer like that.
"Behave well at school, if anyone bullies you - tell the teachers immediately. Eat a lot. And if..." It seems someone's mother-hen mode activated, and we're not even saying goodbye yet - today is open house day. Jacqueline and Alain were chuckling, forgetting that they themselves were shaking like ground squirrels and didn't want to let their children go.
"You'd be the one to hurt him," - Patrick rubbed his arm, which I had knocked off yesterday. Actually, now I'm more training the werewolf rather than him training me, as it was before. I surpass him so much in speed and strength alone that it's no longer interesting. And if I use all my enhancing abilities, including the enhancement spell from blessing magic, I turn into a "one-punch man" altogether.
"He'll hurt whoever he wants."
"And I'm afraid for our school. In fire magic he's far surpassed me - I just hope only ashes don't remain of it," the girl complained. Well, she shouldn't have bragged about her fireball the size of a coconut! Well, I bragged a little, couldn't help myself, making a meter-radius sphere. After all, even though I'm an adult, it's pleasant for me to demonstrate my abilities too.
"But in wand magic you surpassed him - everyone has their strengths." - At this phrase from Jacqueline, Patrick and Apolline said nothing, but everything was clear anyway if you looked at their scrunched faces, as if they'd eaten lemons. And whose fault is it that they don't practice magic diligently? While you sleep - your friend trains.
"Oh, here's our mischievous trio! It seems Beauxbatons will shudder from your steps," the smiling veela at the checkpoint greeted us with her gloomy partner. And you wouldn't say they're husband and wife, and how surprised I was by this fact — words can't express.
"What are you saying about us? Will you keep remembering the destroyed wall? It was just flimsy." Yes, that same wall we used as a target once couldn't withstand our abuse.
"Yes, yes, flimsy," - the girl nodded in agreement with my words, - "three meters of solid granite enchanted by a master artifactor."
What master? I'll do better. Though we got it hard then, no one was offended and didn't ask for compensation. The master himself came and wondered for a long time how three — Patrick joined us, casting charms from his wand - kids managed to demolish his work. Since this was a blow to his reputation, he fixed it for free, and after that we started training in different places. Sowing chaos and destruction.
"See! I'm telling you, flimsy. I hope Beauxbatons will be sturdier!" - Here I got a slap from behind, which I dodged.
"Ow, what for?!"
"Why are you dodging?" - Jacqueline exclaimed.
"And why are you hitting? Ah, I get it, you're missing a man, so now you're eyeing me. I'm beautiful, of course, but I'm not interested in old ladies," - I nodded as if I understood everything.
"What did you say? I'm an old lady?" - she raged so much that bird features began to show through.
"So you agree with the part about missing a man and being interested in me?" - I inquired. I love teasing her.
"You little brat! Don't you dare dodge when I want to kill you!" - Jacqueline shouted after me, but where could she catch me?
"A-a-a! Guard lady, this is an attempt on a child! Save me!" - I ran away under everyone else's laughter.
***
— Patrick POV —
I watched my cheerful friend and marveled at how multifaceted he could be. When wizards attacked me almost six years ago, I was scared to madness, and this saved my life. Even a cornered rat can kill a cat — that's what happened to me.
Being tied up, using my cursed werewolf strength, I broke free and bit through the bastard's throat. The disgustingly sweet taste of human blood still makes me shudder. Not because it was disgusting — on the contrary, my second nature was delighted and wanted more, which was scarier than revulsion.
The second wizard, seeing that I had killed the first, didn't waste time on trifles and started throwing combat spells at me, smashing nearby trees to splinters. Instinctively, using all my strength, I ran in a broken line, and this, along with my low height, saved me — I didn't receive a single direct hit to vital organs.
But there were many wounds, too many for my regeneration to cope with, and weakening, I ran wherever my eyes led. My consciousness was dimming, and I walked and walked, feeling my hands and feet growing cold — I had lost too much blood, though I didn't understand this then. I didn't understand anything at all, driven only by the desire to survive.
At some point I felt a light, almost weightless scent of cinnamon — veela. Magical peoples smell different to werewolves: centaurs like horse musk, werewolves like dog, and veela for some reason like cinnamon. And this doesn't depend on washing frequency — this scent can only be masked by special charms or potions, and then only temporarily.
I kept walking and walking, falling unconscious, coming to after a few seconds and getting up again. The last kilometer I crawled. Left hand, right hand, left, right... But I couldn't manage literally a couple hundred meters. In desperation I called for help and lost consciousness.
I would have perished if Arthur hadn't heard me. I thought for a long time afterward about how he managed to do this. After all, I called quietly, there were two hundred meters to the wall itself, which would muffle sounds, and some more distance to Arthur. He always joked it off when I asked him about this. Like, I stank of dog for the whole area. But even if so, what is he, a werewolf? No, he's a veela.
Veela... at first this confused me. How can a being smell like both a guy and a veela? Especially since my beast instincts clearly sensed a predatory bird inside him. No, determining this wasn't as simple as it seems — actually, at first I really thought he was a girl. I lied a bit to Apolline that I knew this from the beginning.
But over time, the more I learned about him, the more I was amazed. And the fact that he's possibly the only guy-veela in the world — that's not the biggest strangeness in my friend.
Take his skills — he amazed me from the start with his physical strength, his movements and speed — and this without transforming into a half-bird. By the way, I've never seen his transformation into one. He always tried to fight only with his own strength and used his wand extremely rarely in sparring.
Apolline said that his fire skills also surpass hers, and she trained only in this to catch up with her friend. And even this isn't the strangest thing, just like the fact that he surpassed both of us combined in everything.
The strangest thing is his behavior. When he's cheerful, he acts like a child, sometimes even too theatrically, as if overplaying his role. When he's serious, I seem to see before me not a boy three years younger than me, but my father.
What can I say, if I recognized him as leader without particular problems, which is rare for werewolves — we only submit to the strong. And magical or physical strength has nothing to do with it — what matters is willpower, leadership.
True, he often annoys us and everyone around with his condescending look, the way you look at foolish children. And you can see this doesn't happen on purpose — it's already part of his character and personality. Because he never put any of us down just like that. If we do something stupid, he'll say so and show where we were wrong. Not because he's the boss, but because you can see we're dear to him.
I decided long ago that I'll stay by his side until he banishes me himself. He became my leader, rival, friend. Thanks to him, I already surpass almost all my werewolf peers and even those several years older than me. He manages to spur me and Apolline to development by his very existence.
And he never lectured us that we need to develop, no. He called us to training, beat all the crap out of us, and showed how much he had advanced while we were fooling around. Even with his speeches, half the words of which we might not understand, he made us study and read more to understand what he meant.
When he once came to me and asked me to test a bracelet for werewolves, I was stunned. Did he really make this for me? And considering that the second bracelet turned out to be an aura blocker for veela, that's exactly what it was.
True, now I understand one more thing I hadn't noticed before. Who had he tested the bracelets on before? Let's say he could give the veela one to his mother or test it himself. But what about the bracelet for us? It's powerful enough that an ordinary wizard would fall into eternal sleep from respiratory paralysis.
And honestly, I don't want to ask this question — some secrets should remain secrets. The whole problem in the end was in power adjustment, and as Arthur told me, he had to make a self-adjusting artifact that acts stronger the more the werewolf tries to break free. After all, we're different in both physical strength and magical resistance.
Moreover, there are werewolves from both wizards and ordinary people, and there had to be different approaches to them. Only when all from our clan had tried the bracelets, fixed the shortcomings, and there were no overlaps after three full moons, did Arthur and his mom release it to market.
Few talked about this, but many werewolves bought two, three, or even ten bracelets. Not out of need, no. But because someone had finally done something for werewolves, thought about us and really helped.
Need I say that the already good relations between werewolves and veela improved? And all this was done by one boy together with his mom. Then I understood one of his phrases: "Small deeds can lead to great consequences."
— End Patrick POV —
***
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Thank you for the help with the power stones!!!