The rooftop garden of Château Beauxbâtons shimmered in the afternoon sun, the white stone balustrades warmed by light and the air rich with the scent of climbing roses. For most students, this was a place of unknown since here Madam Maxime's office reside, but for Eira it was quite familiar place that she often visited. The violet butterfly had led her here, dissolving into letters that bore the unmistakable authority of Madame Maxime herself.
As she stepped through the arched entrance, she found the Headmistress strolling among the lavender bushes, her enormous figure softened by the elegance with which she carried herself. Madame Maxime turned at the sound of Eira's footsteps and smiled warmly.
"Come in, come in, Mademoiselle White," she said, gesturing to a wrought-iron table set beneath a trellis of flowering vines. "I wanted to speak with you."
Eira returned the smile and moved closer, sitting when invited. "Of course, Madame."
For a moment, Maxime regarded her with that mixture of pride and careful appraisal reserved for only a handful of her students. Then she asked gently, "How have you found your time here at Beauxbâtons?"
Eira didn't hesitate. "It's been wonderful. These three years have been some of the best of my life. I've learned so much—things I could never have imagined before I came here. And more than lessons, I've had experiences that changed me. I… truly love it here."
The Headmistress's expression softened, and her lips curved in satisfaction. "I am glad to hear that, child. It is always a pleasure when a student leaves with fondness for this place."
She paused, her tone shifting as though preparing to cross into heavier matters. "Yesterday, Professor Dumbledore was here for a meeting. I imagine you are already aware, given your position as a Hogwarts governor."
Eira inclined her head. "Yes, Madame. Minister Fudge mentioned it to me. The Triwizard Tournament will return."
"Indeed," Maxime said, her eyes glittering. "We discussed much. There were hopes, even, to expand the competition. We reached out to Ilvermorny in America and to a few others, hoping to make the event even grander. Alas, the Americans declined. They wanted it on their own soil, an international competition open not only to students but to adult wizards as well. Naturally, Albus and the European Ministries did not agree. Tradition is clear—the Triwizard is for students. And so the Americans refused to join us."
Eira raised a brow, her voice cool. "It seems their real concern was profit, then."
Maxime gave a faint, amused smile. "Perhaps. They dreamed of spectacle, but sometimes grandeur overshadows meaning. Here, we choose differently."
For some time , silence lingered between them, broken only by the hum of bees in the flowers. Then Maxime leaned forward slightly, her tone thoughtful. "We did, however, agree on one very important matter. Students under seventeen will not be allowed to participate. The dangers of the Tournament are well known, and it would be foolish to expose the young to such risk. Raising the age was necessary."
Eira nodded in approval. "That's wise. The history of the Tournament proves how costly carelessness can be."
"Just so," Maxime agreed. Then, after a pause, she continued, "Which brings me to the real reason I asked you here. Beauxbâtons will be sending a delegation to Hogwarts, of course. And I thought to extend the offer to you, Mademoiselle White. I could add your name to the list."
Eira smiled faintly, though there was a tinge of sadness in her eyes. "Thank you for considering me, Madame, but I don't think that will be necessary. I'll be transferring to Hogwarts next school year."
The Headmistress blinked, taken aback. "Truly? You are certain of this decision?"
"Yes," Eira said softly. "I don't wish anyone to think I've left Beauxbâtons out of dislike. If anything, I've grown to love this place more than I ever expected. But I have duties in Britain that I can no longer ignore. As a governor, I should be present. And some of the pure-blood families have already begun protesting my absence. It has been nearly three years since I've properly returned home. My family's trade, our influence—none of it can afford my absence any longer."
A sigh escaped Maxime, heavy with regret. "That is truly a shame. I had hoped the Matriarch of the White family might graduate from Beauxbâtons. But if your duty calls you elsewhere, then so be it. I will approve the transfer myself, and I will send a request to Dumbledore to accept you. I cannot imagine he would refuse—even if it is… unusual for a governor to also be a student."
Eira's lips curved in gratitude. "Thank you, Madame."
The Headmistress studied her once more, then asked, "And what of your work here? The affairs you were managing in France?"
"They've been settled," Eira replied. "The trade routes, the negotiations with French families—they're secure. I'll leave a representative here, though I doubt it will be necessary. Everything should continue smoothly."
"Very well," Maxime said with a nod. "Then I am reassured."
Eira tilted her head curiously. "Have you decided, then, who will join you at Hogwarts for the Tournament?"
Maxime's lips curved knowingly. "Do not worry, child. If you're concerned about Fleur Delacour, rest easy. I will be bringing her. I very much hope she will represent Beauxbâtons herself."
Eira couldn't help but smile, warmth filling her chest. "Good. It's her last year—I'm glad she'll be there with me."
The Headmistress's eyes softened. "When I learned the two of you were together, I was happy. Truly. It delights me to see you like this, and I want you to know—you have my support. Never allow yourself to bend under the weight of public opinion. The gossip of pure-blood families, the sneers of the media—these are dust before the wind."
Eira's voice was steady. "Thank you, Madame. I'm quite used to it by now. People's opinions don't trouble me. They won't change what Fleur means to me."
"Good," Maxime said firmly. Then she rose, her towering presence filling the garden. "Now go, Mademoiselle White. Your exams approach quickly, and there is work to be done. Prepare yourself well."
Eira stood as well, bowing her head respectfully. "Yes, Madame."
As she turned to leave, the garden seemed quieter, touched with a bittersweet air. The meeting had confirmed what she already knew: her time at Beauxbâtons was drawing to an end. But as she descended the spiral staircase, she carried with her both Madame Maxime's blessing and the steady resolve of one who understood her path.