Patrick was standing out in what he assumed was some sort of foyer before they got into the room to eat. He wanted to make sure all of his house mates made it into the correct place. He would really hate for them to miss the feast. Especially because he didn’t know where the kitchens were in this place. That was really bumming him out because he was always getting snacks in the kitchens at Hogwarts. Growing boy and all. He kept his eyes peeled for any stragglers from Hogwarts, constantly making sure people were headed inside.

Elisa followed the others into the Foyer for the beginning feast. It was starting soon, wasn't it? Her footsteps slowed down the more she walked ahead as the music was taking into her ears. It was pleasant. She couldn't help herself, taking in the sights and noticing the major differences between this and Hogwarts. The skies weren't visible in the ceiling and there was her reflection on the walls with the colours.

Quote:

Originally Posted by siriusblackliveson

Patrick was standing out in what he assumed was some sort of foyer before they got into the room to eat. He wanted to make sure all of his house mates made it into the correct place. He would really hate for them to miss the feast. Especially because he didn’t know where the kitchens were in this place. That was really bumming him out because he was always getting snacks in the kitchens at Hogwarts. Growing boy and all. He kept his eyes peeled for any stragglers from Hogwarts, constantly making sure people were headed inside.

He.... would've loved this. Elisa suddenly stopped as she took a moment to reach out a hand to touch the wall. Not even noticing her classmate at a fairly close distance. She felt numb for a moment remembering certain things. No.. not now. Taking a moment to relax with her hand dropping to it's previous position again before looking towards, "Hi Patrick, " pausing for a moment, "patroling already?" Her classmate was a Prefect, yes, but didn't he want to eat? She didn't know.

Calm, he was calm. This was his calm face. Malachi Trent was remarkably calm for a man who’d spent the last term in constant fear and this one so far trying to prove to a snooty French woman that she hadn’t made the mistake of housing what she considered to be “hooligans” in her castle. He’d assured her of best behaviour. This, this was anything but.

But he was calm.

SO. CALM.

“The boy who threw up isn’t in trouble. He did nothing wrong, which is more than I can say for you.” The man stated plainly. He did not stop walking until they were through the door and out of earshot. He paused only briefly to look at the two students (Patrick and Elisa) currently outside. “Best you both be heading into the feast, we’ll be starting soon. Wouldn’t want to miss anything important.”

Malachi looked to the boy again. “Exactly how many of your senses have you taken leave of tonight? All of them? Just the ones that would prevent you from disgracing not only yourself but your schoolmates and school?” He was not amused, to say the least.

Whaaatttt?

Max was confused and looked at the man with a genuinely puzzled expression that was clearly visible in his face. "Wh-whaddya mean?" he asked with a slight hesitation and his stomach growled loudly. "I'm not trying to, erm, disgrace the school or anyone. I just wanted to eat because I'm hungry and I thought the older people at the blue table would help me but they didn't and someone puked and I found myself on the table asking for help and then you got mad and... and."

His stomach growled again, but this time it was a bit louder. All Max could think of was his empty stomach with a smidgen of remorse and all he could focus on was food. He rubbed his stomach and averted his gaze to the headmaster's shoes. Max spoke softly and slowly "Are they gonna force us to eat snails, fake grass, and frogs legs? Is that why someone puked at the table?"

Swooping through the air, the petite coraciidae came to a perch on the Hogwarts headmaster's shoulder. Bouncing in place thrice, its dainty little beak parted and, in a hushed tone that only the man himself could hear, relayed the Papillonlisse Head of House's message.

"One of your students haz hadd a panic attack at ze Papillonlisse table. Ziss seems ze sort of pressing ahffair to concern yourself with in light of your privations and I wished to inform. He haz calmed down since and I will gladly point heem out to you later."

Flapping its wings spiritedly thrice, the coraciidae dissipated into thin air once it had finished.

”Forget why anyone threw up at the table. This isn’t about them or about what you’ll eat in a short while.” Malachi instructed, not at all swayed by the sudden hesitance or what he presumed to be feigned ignorance. He’d be lucky not to be immediately sent to his room with dinner brought there—and that was still undecided. This was the boy who had been on the table a moment ago. His innocent recount of all he’d just done was sorely and severely lacking the full details of his actions. Did he not think there was something wrong with what he’d done? His daughter could have seen as much and she was far younger.

Speaking of, he needed to hurry back inside before his son got sorted. That wasn’t something he wanted to miss for a child that felt himself so self important he could climb tables—FINELY SET TABLES—and suffer no consequences as a result.

“Wanting to eat is among the poorest of reasons to climb atop a table that others will be eating from and yelling across the room to Professors. Is that what you do at home? Your parents let you walk all over the furniture? Well I assure you, that’s not how things are done here and not how they’ll be done back at Hogwarts. How did you not think climbing atop a table and yelling was both disgraceful and inappropriate? How was that not clear to you before you went and did it?” H O W ?

“We are guest in this castle and all you and your thoughtless actions have do—“

Oh? Malachi paused abruptly at the appearance of the silvery blue wisp. A patronus? And on his shoulder no less. Merlin’s beard what now? The one feast he really needed NOTHING to happen. Panic attack? Papillionlisse? Let’s see that was...first to third which narrowed that down quite a bit. There were only a few he could think of. Trent took a deep breath before unholstering his wand to somehow handle this too. A grey wolf shot forth, bounding off back into the feast with his response.

Now where was he? Oh. Right. “We are guests here. When someone invites you to share their space, you don’t turn around and disrespect them with behaviour like yours. Do you honestly think what you just did was okay? Acceptable? Perfectly in line with what a student should do?”

Dude! Chillax! You sound like Gammy and mum! I was like trying to get your attention before everyone died from starvation! What is it that Donk and Da said I should say?

Max gulped and sighed deeply. He looked up at the headmaster with his sad blue eyes and there was a note of sincerity in his voice as he softly spoke. “I-I’m sorry.”

Oh, please let this work!

”Are you?” His tone was neither surprised nor suspicious. The question came more as a reflex than anything else. Malachi straightened then, peering back into the dining chamber for a moment before turning his attention to the boy once more.

“Brilliant, that took hardly any time.” He would be able to see his son sorted after all. “I confess I thought this would take ages. Let’s move on then. How long did it take you to climb the table? Accounting for time to nudge people out of the way—the time it took to walk to the table you didn’t belong at. Gimme a rough estimate. 10 minutes maybe? 8? You’re a quick one, I imagine.”

”Yes, sir,” Max replied as he nodded his head. It worked! Wait! What is he saying about a wrong table? Did he just call me fast? OMG! A COMPLIMENT!

Grin.

You should see me on a broomstick, sir. Donk said I’m gonna be just as good as him and my da,” Max happily chattered and then a thought hit him like a punch to the gut. ”Uh, sir, I, um, don’t wanna sound rude, but who are you and where am I supposed to sit?”

Having gotten the greater part of what he considered to be the effort out of the way, Malachi patiently sat through the first year’s senseless dribble. For a Ravenclaw, this one was not good at focusing and staying on topic. Perhaps it would change with time. Perhaps it never would and he’d be doomed in the future. Kids were always filled with unseen potential. They all had the potential to go either way.

“I’m Headmaster Trent and your table is where literally everyone who got sorted before you went to take a seat. Disrespectful and unwilling to pay attention. It’s a grim outlook, I won’t lie.”

But this was all besides the point. “You sit at the purple table. Now, how long did your whole stunt take to get done?” Patience practically dripping in his tone. He would only ask this one more time.

Dude, he needs a nice cuppa chamomile tea and a biscuit.

He shrugged his shoulders. “I dunno. Maybe four or five minutes? Max replied because he wasn’t sure but then turned on his elfish charm and grinned broadly while speaking to the man who called himself headmaster. ”Pleasure to meet you, Headmaster Trent. I’m Maximus Orion Vindictus the Third and I’m gonna take your advice to, erm, yeah that’s it, pay attention. Oh and sit at the purplish table.”

”You’ve missed the point. My advice is to behave appropriately. Anymore stunts like this and we’ll be writing home to your parents as a start.” A start because given this kid’s general “I should get away with things” attitude, he wasn’t convinced the parents would do much. “I wish I could say there was pleasure in this meeting but there hasn’t been.. As I’m sure there won’t be in any of our meetings in the near future. This is not how I want to be introduced to my students.” But the kid had the whole term to think that over and change that.

“Now, let’s see. 5 minutes to pull that off, another 5 or so out here. We’ll call it 8. I’ll give you about a minute to find a seat at the correct table. What is that? 14? Sounds about right. You’ve got yourself 2 weeks of detention, starting tomorrow. Now head back inside and don’t make me have to come get you again or you’ll find yourself in less favourable circumstances.”

WAS IT KALE’S TURN YET?? Merlin, he had to hurry.

This guy is as thick as a wall! Doesn't he understand that I GET IT. Dude! Whatever! I'll write to Mum and Da and Gammy and Donk and then when Mr. Stuffypants writes to THEM, they will know that he has it in for me. I was nice and INTRODUCED MYSELF. Mr. Stuffypants didn't EVEN let me know who he WAS. Talk about rude! Geesh! At least I didn't do what Da did when he said "Do you know who my father is?!"

"Yes, sir," Max automatically replied and tried to look dejected as he turned to walk back inside. He intentionally slumped his shoulders and shuffled his feet as he retreated back inside where the festivities were taking place.

Satisfied with the relative speed in which he was able to resolve this, Malachi lingered only long enough to ensure the boy headed back inside before heading back himself. The speech would need to happen in a bit and besides that, HIS KID was getting sorted. It was one of the most exciting days in his whole life next to when he and his sister were born and the man would be damned if he missed anything.

Hopefully there would be nothing else that needed addressing.

The conversations seemed to have died down, but Lars Moreau was taking no chances tonight. Enough had gone wrong as it stood. Typical. The first time he took greater risks with his project would be the first time everything turned from wine to vinegar. The butterflies that belonged at his house table seemed to have found their way into his stomach as he checked that the coast was clear from his station around the corner.

Now, it was a matter of dealing with the fallout of this disaster, and salvaging his reputation before news got out. Surely the feast was to begin soon, surely they would be preoccupied with their food by now. The lake was not necessarily on fire yet.

He drew nearer to the door to the dining hall and pressed his ear to it. Everyone seemed to be talking over themselves. The feast had either not begun or the Headmistress had already given her speech.

Perhaps if he looked through the keyhole, it would shed some light on the situation, and he could better determine a course of action.

There were risks involved, but there were always risks. Lars knew this. Aesha knew this too. The risks made it interesting. This risk in particular. And while she did not want to seem overeager, she was absolutely thrilled.

Imagine the possibilities! Imagine how much could be learned!

She watched as Lars moved towards the doors to the Dining Chamber, her gaze following him as he moved to peer through the keyhole. "Luc and Roch know what they're doing, Lars," she whispered in attempt to subdue him. While the older boy felt butterflies, Aesha was calm.

He surreptitiously slipped into the foyer just in time to hear mention of his name. Luc and Roch know what they’re doing. In any other situation, Aesha would’ve been correct but… Well, he was certain no one had been anticipating this. There wasn’t any kind of contingency plan for this.

“I think they’ve found somewhere,” the sixth year Bellefeuille informed in hushed tones after having double-checked the coast was clear. While he seemed relatively calm on the outside, he wanted nothing more than to smack Lars Moreau upside the head. He was holding the other boy solely responsible for this mess. “It’s not ideal but it’ll have to do. For now.”

But how long were they going to be able to rely on temporary measures?

His eyes kept sweeping, not for patrolling purposes but to make sure he didn’t have anyone to usher into the feast. He turned when he saw Elisa. Smiling and letting a small laugh out, “No just want to make sure no one was left behind before we needed to get started.” He was going to ask her how she was but wasn’t sure that that would actually be the right thing to do.

Whipping his head around to Headmaster Trent, he nodded, “Of course sir, just wanted to make sure no one got lost. Can’t let the new students end up hungry.” He smiled turning to Elisa again, “want to walk with me?” The headmaster looked like he had some serious reaming to do to the boy that he had with him. He did not envy the headmaster at all.

Elisa wasn't phased by the disruption that took place between a young boy and the Headmaster. It was Hogwarts except now at Beauxbatons. It was bringing something familiar to an entirely new and pleasant environment. Though the volume would likely attract others. "Mm, right." She didn't have any other reason to stay in this spot as she heard the advice.

Elisa smiled faintly at the invitation from Patrick. "Sure." She was starting to wonder how this feast would turn out. So with that she followed Patrick into the main hall to where her designated spot would be.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Luc Vayssière

He surreptitiously slipped into the foyer just in time to hear mention of his name. Luc and Roch know what they’re doing. In any other situation, Aesha would’ve been correct but… Well, he was certain no one had been anticipating this. There wasn’t any kind of contingency plan for this.

“I think they’ve found somewhere,” the sixth year Bellefeuille informed in hushed tones after having double-checked the coast was clear. While he seemed relatively calm on the outside, he wanted nothing more than to smack Lars Moreau upside the head. He was holding the other boy solely responsible for this mess. “It’s not ideal but it’ll have to do. For now.”

But how long were they going to be able to rely on temporary measures?

While the others were concerned for their reputations and whether or not they'd get caught, Eugenia was concerned in the far more humane matters of their current situation. Besides, this wasn't her situation. She was just there to make sure that everything was okay. That IT was okay.

She had been standing guard to make sure none of the Hogwarts students had straggled and were lingering, but she soon left her post to join the others, just in time to hear Aesha say the two idiots who got them all into this mess "knew what they were doing".

"I don't know about zhat," she said, aware that Luc himself was standing right beside her. He had to know this was over his head, right? That this was bigger than anyone had anticipated. At least they had found somewhere to hide it. But Eugenia shot him a look, her arms crossed over her chest. "Is it safe?" she demanded, still giving him a look. He knew how she would feel if it wasn't.

Hands in the pockets of his blue trousers, Roch sauntered into the reception foyer looking as though he hadn't a care in the world when in actuality he had at least 99 problems (the British invasion was only one, and relatively low priority all things considered). He approached the group and used his younger brother as a leaning post, casually resting his arm on Luc's shoulder.

And then, when he was sure that they were all looking at him, instead of saying anything he simply smiled calmly, an observer might even be forgiven for thinking the delicate curl of his lips was angelic. His presence was enough confirmation that all was as well as could be expected - better even, because he had it under control. Roch Vayssière was an expert at making the best of a bad situation. That isn't to say he wasn't angry about how things had gone, but panic did not lead to profit, and he intended to profit greatly.

Lars Moreau was extremely on-edge. Extremely. Aesha's apparent sense of calm was not helping either. Nobody was prepared for this. Nobody had even considered that this could go this far wrong. He only grunted in response before trying to get a better idea of what was going on inside.

He certainly could not afford the situation they were in. The way the this had soured was going to cost him the eyes in his head, if they were not smacked out by one of the two Vayssières first. He also could not afford getting caught. He fully intended to graduate. He was certain that Roch was planning on the same. Expulsion was not in the cards this night.

The goods were safe. Brilliant. Not enough to distract from his task at hand.

It was only Eugenia's return to her holier than thou act that had him moving, if the clenching of his fist could be considered such. It was a miracle he was still capable of coherent thought. He eventually straightened upon Roch's arrival, surveyed the group, and took a breath.

"They have begun the speech. The coast should be clear for now, but one member of staff is missing from the table, which may cause complications." What was the plan?

Lars Moreau was in a state of panic and despite this, Aesha did not do much to help. She simply could not relate. While the others were upset by the turn of circumstances, she could not have been more thrilled. This scenario presented a unique opportunity. An aspiring scientist, such as herself, would plan to take full advantage.

When life gives you gurdyroot!

Pfff. But of course there was always one. Eugenia Bonnair. Just as beautiful as she was dull. Aesha’s impatience with the girl had been growing exponentially from the day Eugenia took it upon herself to jut into this undertaking. Fortunately, Luc had arrived just as Eugenia made her unsolicited remarks (yet again). And decidedly ignoring Eugenia, Aesha turned to Lars instead. See? Nothing to worry about. That in it of itself was quite clear in Roch’s charming smile. As far as motivators went, science was the first, but his smile was the second.

Aesha’s only noticeable reaction came in the form of curiosity when informed that a member of staff was missing from the table. Curiosity as to why they were missing, but also to know what these temporary measures were. Quality check was an important component of scientific experimentation, as well as for disaster relief.

That’s what they were dealing with.

As usual, his brother appeared to be the epitome of cool, calm and collected, something that Luc found difficult to comprehend. His preferred method of handling situations often included his fists. Ruffling up Lars Moreau in the middle of the reception foyer was bound to attract unwanted attention though, and that was something they couldn’t afford. Literally. There was too much at stake.

He ignored Eugenia’s question and instead turned to scowl at butterfly boy, dark eyes threatening. “This is on you, Moreau. If you’re fond of your face the way it is, find a way to fix this. Fast.” He took a step away from the group and shot his brother a quick look. “You coming?”

Their common room was about to be overrun with English girls. It was true, every cloud really did have a silver lining.