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BEAUXBATONS ACADEMY OF MAGIC

THE BASICS

Location: The Pyrenees Mountains, France Student Body: Between 1200 and 1500 students with approximately 70 to 100 students in standard grades, though there are multiple classes in each grade which number around 25 students Student Ages: 7 years through 19 years Magical Specialties: Charms, Magical Control, Precise Wandwork

A BRIEF HISTORY

Originally a seasonal estate of Marchioness Louise-Augustine de Montmorency- a veela who had married into muggle nobility, the Marchioness opened Beauxbatons to those fleeing the guillotine following the French revolution. She and her family hid muggle and pureblood alike until the end of the Revolution and the Terror. When there was no more use for the building as a sanctuary, it was converted to a school. The Marchioness spent a veritable fortune recruiting expert professors from all over France to teach, and appointed herself as Headmistress. The French school is unique in that it is the only institution that begins to teach its students before they are able to perform magic. Students are recruited when they begin to display signs of magic, as young as seven years old. Students are taught French History, Etiquette, Wand Safety, and how to control their magical abilities long before they ever learn a spell or hold a wand in their hand. Standard classes normally begin around age eleven. Student relationships are normally quite close, as classmates are practically raised together nine months out of the year. Beauxbatons prides itself not only on it’s extensive schooling, but on it’s welcoming attitude towards those with mixed heritage. The school is made up of almost 50% muggleborns, and those with veela and giant heritage are commonplace. Though several traditional pureblood families and even the French Ministry of Magic have tried to change this over the years, the descendants of the the Marchioness (many of whom still work at the school or number among the Board of Governors) have always raised fierce protests, backed by an extensive fortune and most of the school’s staff and students. “My grandmother started this school as a refuge for those the country had shunned,” Former Headmistress Charlotte de Montmorency is noted to have said during one such upheaval. “I would rather close the school forever than see one magical child turned away because of something as immaterial as blood status.” The school holds several seemingly frivolous traditions near to their heart, many of which were started in the time of the Marchioness. Most are known only to Beauxbaton students themselves, though some are more widely known. While Beauxbaton has no official uniform, students are expected to be well dressed, and it is traditional to dress in the colors of the school, pale blue, white, and gold.

CLASS STRUCTURE

The large amount of students at the school demands an equally large staff. The sprawling estate requires dozens of housekeepers, cooks, and gardeners, and there are over one hundred professeurs and sous-professeur employed at Beaubaxton, all exemplary in their fields. Classes from ages six to eleven tend to be smaller, taught by the same handful of teachers every year until they receive their wands and move on. Those classes that follow tend to be resemble college lectures, and may contain as many as 100 students, depending on the subject. Should students find themselves struggling, sous-professeurs have extensive office hour for individual education and advice, and may be assigned a tutor from a higher grade. (Several hours of tutoring are required from each student in order to graduate, as it is considered a service to the school.) Each grade is also assigned a Sponsor de Classe, who acts as something of a confidant and advisor for that group of students from the time they come to Beauxbaton until they graduate. Students are required to demonstrate practical applications of what they have learned weekly to their professeurs, and testing is done three times a year- a month into classes to see what the students have retained over the summer, before Winter Break, and at the end of the year. OWLs are done during a student’s sixth year. Students are expected to be able to perform a noverbal, wandless Avis charm by the time they graduate.

NOTABLE ALUMNI

Nicholas Flamel – Alchemist & only-known maker of a Philosopher’s Stone Adelene Bellerive – French Minister of Magic, 1990-1995

#misc:aesthetic #misc:about #misc:basis

amycuuuscarrow:

Amycus wasn’t one for Christmas but he had thought she might be there. He decided to randomly visit the ‘market’. As she bumped into him he couldn’t help but smirk. “Don’t have you nearly knock me over frenchie to get my attention.”

Originally posted by ferrisbueller

Jamming her gloved hands back into her coat pockets, Stella stepped back to a distance where she could comfortably look him in the eye.

“Careful Amy. One might start to think you are stalking me the way you show up everywhere.”

#para:amycus

The street she lived on was having a Christmas market, and in an effort to cheer herself up, Stella was slowly browsing the stalls, enjoying the carolling and smells of seasonal food that was travelling through the air.

Stopping to watch a man busking, she dug some coins of her pocket, throwing them into his Violin case, stepping backwards into someone as she did so.

“Sorry! I should have been watching. Are you ok?”

#stillstarter #can be a gif chat #i just wanted to set the scene

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Run!

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frcnk:

“What kinda job is that? You like an event sitter or somethin’? And I’m an —-” He flashed her his badge. “Auror, so I’m here to help.” Eyes glanced around the floor for a moment. “You drop it here? Or someplace else?”

“Event planner assistant. I don’t have a badge, so you’ll have to take my word for it.”

“I think I dropped it in here... but who knows.

#chat:frank

amycuuuscarrow:

Amycus could see part of her seemed hurt, he didn’t like this. He needed to fix this, obviously in a subtle way.

“Claude… funny name that..” he said. He had found out all that he needed to… she was single or at least nearly single.

“He’s hurt you… I can see it in your eyes.” He frowned, studying her face. Did he really just say that outloud?? At least they were in a small bar and were speaking quite quietly- his reputation was safe.

“It is not funny, it is French.”

Enjoying the last of her drink, Stella studied the remnants of the ice cubes left in the bottom of her glass, swirling them around. She had three unopened letters from Claude currently sitting on her desk in her flat and a grumpy owl starting to bother her. As much as she knew that they had to be dealt with, Stella could think of many things she would rather do of an evening than communicate with her ex. At least not right now.

“All break-up’s hurt. You can’t really expect any less... I’m sure you know that though.”

#para:amycus

SAILS.

Describe your perfect partner...

At this point in my life, he would be someone who makes me feel like I belong somewhere. I no longer have to choose what side of myself to be.

Otherwise, tall, handsome and Mr Darcy will do.

#Anonymous

jennyjoanxo-deactivated20161124

ocean ask

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pearl: if you could travel anywhere in the world, where would you go and why?

sails: describe your perfect partner.

lighthouse: how much makeup do you wear?

shells: would you prefer to be a vampire or a werewolf?

mermaid: most embarrassing moment?

turquoise: weirdest dream you’ve ever had?

waves: favourite season and why?

breakers: would you ever consider getting married?

seafoam: describe your ideal summer vacation.

rain: if it were possible, what exotic animal would you keep as a pet?

sunlight: least favourite song?

marine: would you ever consider plastic surgery?

sea glass: what do you consider to be your best physical feature?

storm: do you like piercings and tattoos? Why or why not?

boardwalk: who is your favourite fictional couple?

coral: if you had to describe your personality as a food, what would you be and why?

nymph: old-fashioned or modern decor?

seawater: scariest movie you’ve ever watched?

siren: in a fantasy setting, would you be a warrior, rogue or mage?

tempest: your favourite Pokemon?

tropic: what is your least favourite thing about your appearance?

aquamarine: describe your dream date.

brine: gold or silver?

tidal: what is a colour that best describes your personality?

azure: what is something that you do that makes you happy?

fog: describe where you think you’ll be in five years.

coastline: what is your favourite flower?

shallows: what is your typical Starbucks order?

voyage: what are your favourite names?

shipwreck: do you have an OC? If so, describe them.

cerulean: do you believe in true love?

shoreline: if you could become fluent in another language, which would you pick and why?

tsunami: describe a dream outfit of yours.

riptide: are you introverted or extroverted? Are you happy with this?

hurricane: describe a strange habit of yours.

#misc:memes

amycuuuscarrow:

“Isn’t a man allowed to simply be curious about the woman to whom he is in the company of?” He raised a brow. Was it really that bad that he asked her which stance she would take. He knew that he couldn’t tell her he was a death eater, he couldn’t do that to her, not yet anyway.

Amycus knew he had to convince her to be his bystander, not perhaps become a death eater but to become a supporter. He knew it was the right decision for her and he hoped she would one day see that. He also wanted to protect her and in order to do that fully and safely he needs her on the same side. But now was not the time to discuss that issue.

He took a long sip of his pint and then thought he needed to change the topic from war. “You’re ex.. are you friendly with him?” He said clearing his throat.

Oh, Thank God... After the events of last night, Stella really did not want to be thinking or talking about the war. However, she didn’t really want to talk about Amycus’s next choice of conversation either.

“Claude?”

Stella had forgotten how small the wizarding community in the UK was, and therefore how fast word travelled. She had barely been back two months and trying to keep the news to herself, or so she thought. But talk is talk and it did travel.

“I... I don’t know what we are at the moment.”

#para:amycus

aessestudio

#and queue it goes...#misc:aesthetic

amycuuuscarrow:

Amycus smirked at her remark. “Looks like I like the taste of fermented piss then.” He knew that him agreeing with her would piss her off more than arguing. So he assumed anyway.

He saw her face change and the sudden shock appear on it. Surely she knew this was war? Surely everyone did, do they not?

“Of course no one can remain neutral.. it’s impossible.. I didn’t mean to dampen the mood I just merely was…. curious…” he said the word curious rather slowly.

“Why?”

Why did Amycus want to talk about the war? What was her stance to him?

The many posters and adverts she had been seeing around London came to the forefront of her mind. She had seen “Trust no one” and “Careless talk cost’s lives” just this morning.

“What are you really trying to ask Amycus?”

#para:amycus #the night before at the party was the first time she really had to face that it IS going to be a war #so she is rather unsetteled

mxrymacdxnald:

Are you okay? The question of the century. The ministry of all places had been invaded, a party celebrating something as little as a birthday couldn’t even be allowed these days - was anyone okay? Some people certainly help up better than Mary, as evident by the fact that her initial reaction was to apparate to a a bloody pub. It was, at least for the time being, safe. Ignoring the fact that she should have stayed, should have helped, Mary forced herself to look up at her companion.

“Sorry about that,” she muttered, stomach fluttering around a bit. Drinking and apparating were not kind companions. “We’re ah…at the Leaky Cauldron. Far away from the ministry, at least.” Which was the main point to focus on - hopefully everyone else went somewhere, anywhere.

This war would, quite literally, be the death of her.

Finding the nearest chair and sitting down on it, Mary felt a little better over not having to stand anymore. “Sorry about…you know, bringing you here. Just had to get out. You work there, don’t you? The ministry? You seem like it, at least. Sorry to take you away, but better here than there. For right now, at least.” Surely she would find out when it would be safe to return.

Would it be safe? Mary only hoped the Death Eaters planned to scare them, not place themselves into the actual ministry - though many of them believed they already had.

“While we’re here - fancy a drink?”

As the adrenaline left her system, Stella felt the effects of a headache begin to bleed in. Her vision blurring slightly, she squeezed her eyes shut before shaking her head. Apparition had nasty side effects, ones she felt she would never get used too.

Mr Pevensie. She should have found him. People have lost their jobs for less than abandoning their bosses in the middle of a battle. What if he was hurt? What if he was killed? What would happen then? She wouldn’t have a job if he was killed either-

Snapping out of her spiral at the voice of her companion, her thoughts clattered back to earth and she jerkily returned to the present.

“The Ministry? I- no, I was only working the party. My boss... he was in charge of planning it with the Minister... I was, I was making sure no one important was embarrassingly drunk or caused a scandal. Clearly, I did a terrible job."

Laughing bitterly, Stella ran her fingers through her hair,pushing it away from her face, tugging on the ends, a nervous habit.

"I- sorry."

Falling into the chair beside her, Stella finally released the tension in her shoulders, the tension she hadn't realised was there.

"A drink sounds perfect. What would you like?"

#para:mary #this is the first time she has really had to deal with the war #queue breakdown

sweetcollins

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✥ Stella and Claude ✥

Christmas 2015

happier times

#pic:stella #pic:claude #the dreaded ex #dun dun dun

amycuuuscarrow:

Amycus gazed at her for a few moments taking in her beauty. She was classy looking, most definitely someone he could see himself with. Again, evidently he would not even admit that.. not now at least.

“Not a beer fan, I see that is were we disagree. Beer is a crafted delicacy, one that you do not appreciate.” He took another sip of his beer.

Amycus did not appreciate small talk, or enjoy the thought of small talk. He found it awkward and always a distasteful conversation.

“Working in the ministry… that’s literally my life.” He said briefly. He needed to tell her about his ‘extra activities’ outside of work, but he didn’t want her to hate him. “Are you taking a stance during this war or remaining neutral?” He asked but instantly regretted it.

Screwing her nose up, Stella shook her head in disagreement. Bickering was familiar territory for them, and she began to relax into the conversation. Though her natural temperament tended towards shy, Stella was never one to back down from an argument, no matter how small and ridiculous. While this sometimes proved an issue, particularly in her past relationship, she couldn’t sense any harm in pushing a few of Amycus’s buttons. “Beer tastes like piss. Fermented piss.... and bad decisions.”

Taking another drink, she nodded in acknowledgement of his employment status. She had been right. Making to put her drink down in order to ask him what department he was working in and whether or not he enjoyed it. Unfortunately, she was cut short by his mention of the war. Spluttering slightly on her drink, Stella thumped the glass down on the table.

“The war?!”

This was the first time she had heard it referred to so openly, in public at least. She was taken aback to say the least.

“I- ugh-”

Surely, surely, this wasn’t a topic of conversation one simply dropped in without an agenda. Only what was Amycus's? And had she even taken a side? She hadn't actively affiliated herself with a particular group, but one didn't need to to have an opinion. She preferred not to think about it, to go about her life as normal. Last night had ruined that illusion, she could not ignore that.

Collecting herself, Stella took a deep breath, making strong eye contact with her companion, letting the diplomatic streak she had inherited from her mother come through.

"I don't believe anyone can remain truly neutral."

#para:amycus

amycuuuscarrow:

He most definitely wanted to talk to her. It had been ages since he had last seen her, he wanted to see firstly how she was and secondly if she was single. Not that her being in a relationship was a problem to him, more of an obstacle. Of course he would not be admitting that he was slightly interested in her. He nodded at her drink request and pondered on what a ‘tom Collins’ actually was. However he went to the bar and ordered her drink along with a pint of lager for himself. He soon saw that it was a cocktail she had ordered, funny name he thought. He returned with the drinks and set them down. “Cocktails, frenchies gone posh?” He smirked before sitting down, opposite her. She had a new image about her, something that made her even more attractive and appealing to him. Perhaps it was because he now saw her out of her school uniform, or perhaps because she’s matured.

Day drinking was not normally Stella’s groove. Neither were cocktails. Yet, here she was, partaking in both. It had to be Amycus’s effect, reminding her of Hogwarts shenanigans. It had been a long time since she had seen anyone from school, and after moving back to London, she had been feeling a little nostalgic, and Tom Collins was a drink she and her dormitory mates had often made in 7th year.

Smiling, Stella looked down at the drink in front of her. “I had enough wine last night and beer is not at all to my taste.”

After a pause, while she took a drink, Stella remembered that a good way to catch up with people was to actually talk to them. No matter whether you like small talk or not (hint: Stella does not.)

“Tell me, what has been happening in your life? Since school.”

#para:amycus #this is crappy sorry

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