Qu'est-ce qu'on attend pour être heureux? (Netta)

For the first two months of her time at Beauxbatons Honoré observed his sister from afar, always ready to step in should anyone be nasty to her. He knew that she would probably not even want his help and he wasn’t eager to spend time with her anyway. However, the boy was a bit worried. Netta seemed to look a little out of place at Beauxbatons even after after a few weeks. He tried to dismiss this thought, thinking that it was none of his business anyway. After all, he had expected his sister to struggle at boarding school. Beauxbatons was different from home, there was no way to ignore that.

Towards the end of October he received a letter from his parents, asking him how his sister was settling in and he had put off replying for a week now. First of all he needed to talk to Netta to find out how his sister was really doing and that was hardly a pleasant task and then there was also the fact that he wasn’t sure if he should be honest with his parents or not. He didn’t mind keeping secrets from them, he already had some experience with that anyway.

It was early Wednesday morning when Honoré decided that he needed actually talk to his little sister. He got dressed quickly and went to corridor with the magical painting of a group of fairies resting on toadstools that was at the entrance to the Papillonlisse tower and waited. He blushed ever so slightly as a group of Papillonlisse girls appeared, pointing at him and whispering animatedly before bursting into giggles. Honoré had no idea what they had been talking about. Were they even aware of the fact that his little sister was in their house? He didn’t know and he just hoped that Netta would appear soon and thus spare him more curious looks from her other housemates.

He leaned against the opposite wall, staring at the painting and thinking that it really was a rather silly piece of art when, finally, Antoinette appeared. “Netta, salut,” he said, smiling slightly. He wasn’t sure how to start a conversation. Should he ask her how she was doing? Ask if she wanted to have breakfast with him? Just wait for her reaction to seeing him? He ran his hand through his curly hair and shrugged. “Thought I’d make some time for you today,” he offered, unsure if his sister even appreciated his presence. “What would you like to do? Are you hungry?”

@Antoinette Boisbouvier

Antoinette hated Beauxbatons. It was awful, and she felt like she was being involuntarily held hostage in hell. The little ballroom dancer missed home so much, she missed her nanny, she even missed her parents. Even after two months, Netta felt so out of place. She couldn’t really relate to anyone and it was difficult to share such a tiny space with so many other witches. The eleven year old didn’t like sharing anything. Antoinette felt that no one paid any attention to her anymore, and she still hadn’t figured out how to make friends with the girls she shared a dormitory with. Her existence was really quite lonely.

Many times throughout the weeks she had been at the school, Netta had considered going to Honoré for help. It was tricky though. She wanted his help, but also didn’t want to have to ask for it. She wanted to try to be independent and grown-up, but it was so difficult and definitely not fun. Netta wasn’t even sure that he could help with some of the problems she had with Beauxbatons anyway. Even she realised that her elder brother probably couldn’t help her with persuading the school to change their uniforms. They were pretty and everything, but it was so boring to have to wear the same thing every single day. And worst of all, it wasn’t even pink!

That morning Netta waited until the other witches she shared a dormitory with had left her room before she got changed, still feeling awkward about doing so in front of them. She hated that she couldn’t just do whatever she wanted anymore, or have everything she needed at the snap of her fingers. Even the idea of breakfast wasn’t making her feel much better despite her stomach growling. The food at Beauxbatons wasn’t as good as the food at home, she was sure of this.

As Netta stepped out into the corridor she was surprised to see her older brother there, seemingly waiting for her. She had to school her expression to a more neutral look when in reality she wanted to smile brightly at him. It wouldn’t do to look too eager to see him, after all. A ghost of a smile still appeared unbeknownst to her, however. “Honoré!” Her voice gave away how pleased she was to see him, maybe he could somehow come up with a plan to let her go home.  He could write their parents and lie about something to make it seem like she was having the worst time ever, and that she should never come back to the school ever again. He was very good at lying, after all. Could she hug him? Would that seem too needy? She walked towards him and awkwardly clung to his arm in a weird side hug before quickly letting go again. There, that’d do fine. It was wonderfully convenient that he appeared when she needed him most, and Antoinette appreciated that he had showed up so that she didn't have to lower herself to such a thing as willingly seeking him out.

“Yes, I’m hungry… they starve us with the food here.” She whined dramatically as she flicked her wavy hair over her shoulder. “We should go to the hall.” She stated more as a command than a suggestion. “And then after that… I’d like to go home.” Netta looked up at her elder brother with wide pleading eyes.

Honoré was glad to hear in Antoinette’s voice that she was glad to see him. She did not need to say it outright, although it would be nice if his little sister could for once be genuine. He was sincerely worried about her and he had a feeling that he was right to worry. His sister did appear to be a lot tamer than she used to be. He was surprised to receive something similar to a hug and awkwardly patted his sister’s shoulder in response.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Honoré muttered whilst offering a half smile. “They do not starve you here. Beauxbatons has great food and it’s silly not to admit that.” Maybe using the words ridiculous and silly already meant the end of Netta being nice to him, but the boy really didn’t care. She could say a lot of negative things about Beauxbatons but the food wasn’t bad at all. It might be a little different from home but there was no reason for her to claim that she was starving here.

“You’d like to go home,” Honoré repeated casually. “Well, I thought you might feel like this,” he admitted, some concern audible in his voice. He had told his parents already before they had left for Beauxbatons that Netta would struggle here. He had also warned his sister that things would be different from home and likely difficult for her. Yet it was upsetting to hear that she didn’t like it and see her pleading eyes.

“Oh Netta,” he said, sighing, “don’t you think that you might still get used to the school?” he asked though he felt he knew the answer already in advance. They walked towards the hall and the boy bit down the inside of his cheek, trying to figure out what he could say or do to make things better for his sister.

“You know, maman and papa wrote to me to ask how you’re doing…” he offered, “I have been putting off answering their letter so far, thinking that you’d still get used to everything. I guess I’ll have to tell them that you do not like it here.”

Netta rolled her eyes as her elder brother told her she was being ridiculous. Unfortunately, he was completely right, the food wasn’t the worst she’d ever had. Antoinette still didn’t think it was ‘great food’ though, it just didn’t taste the same as it did back home. She’d rather roll around in the mud in the rain all day than admit that her elder brother was at least partially right. “It isn’t like the food at home.” She whined back, “it isn’t as good. I miss the food from home.”

Honoré already knew that she wanted to go home? “You did?” Netta asked, looking up at her brother with a quizzical expression. Why didn’t he do something earlier, rescue her sooner from this crazy cage? “Why didn’t you say so earlier?” Perhaps she could have already been home by now if he had bothered to help her earlier. Netta wondered if perhaps he liked her being unhappy, that this was some sort of revenge from when they used to dance together and she used to make him unhappy.

“No. No, I don’t.” Netta grumbled from a sour frown on her face. “I want to go home… right now. I don’t want to be here a second longer.” She tugged slightly on his sleeve as they walked to grab his attention fully, feeling that her next words were of extreme importance and that he needed to fully understand her. She didn’t think it was difficult to misinterpret, but it was Honoré and he somehow had managed to fail to follow the simplest of commands when they used to dance together. “I hate it, I hate everything about it.”

“They… they did?” Antoinette gasped quietly, surprised that they actually cared about her and surprised that if they did, why they didn’t ask her directly. So, her brother hadn’t replied yet. This was perfect, so wonderfully perfect. If they weren’t surrounded by other students walking down the corridor, she could have hugged him there and then. “Yes!” Netta cried gleefully, “They listen to you. You have to tell them how much I hate it here, and that they should take me away and have me homeschooled.” Netta instructed him purposely with a small, satisfied smirk on her face. This could really be her ticket home. “I don’t care what you have to make up or lie about to do it, but get me out of here, please!” Netta whined, her last word elongated as she pleaded.

A humourless laugh escaped Honoré as he heard his little sister state that the food at Beauxbatons wasn’t like the food at home. “Yeah,” he said dryly. “I guess that means that you want to live at the hotel forever and never leave so you can eat the same kind of food for the rest of your life?” His little sister was so silly sometimes. She didn’t even try to give Beauxbatons a chance to become her second home.

“Well,” Honoré started, feeling somewhat uncomfortable being forced to explain himself. Just because a student didn’t like school didn’t mean that there was the imminent need to talk about it and act, was there? There were many students that didn’t enjoy school and still went through all seven years of magical education. “I cannot change a lot about this and I thought that you’d maybe change your mind.” He knew that this response would probably not satisfy Netta but he didn’t intend to explain himself more.

“Hmm…” the Ombrelune rolled his eyes and bit his tongue to stop himself from responding rashly to Netta’s pathetic outburst. “I expected you to feel like that.” He already opened his mouth to say that she was a spoiled child who had to learn that life could sometimes be hard but stopped himself. Instead he offered a small smile. “Come on, you cannot hate everything here. That’s simply not possible.”

The boy shook his head when Netta demanded that he’d write to their parents and ask them to take her out of school. “I doubt that they’d listen to me for this,” he admitted, thinking that his life would also get easier if Netta was back at home. However, for her it was just wrong. She could not always get her way. She needed to learn to adapt and accept that not everybody was doing what she wanted. “I will tell them how you feel, though,” he offered, frowning slightly. “I will also add that you wish to be homeschooled.” He shrugged and let her step into the hall, following right behind her.

“I think you’d impress them a lot if you made friends and got used to everything here,” he told her, smiling a little. “I believe they’d grant you any wish if you made a real effort.”

“Why would I ever want to leave home?” Netta retorted sharply. “I have everything I need there and if I don’t have it, then I can ask for it and get it.” She glanced at her brother with a half-smile. “Everyone does what I want at home.”

Antoinette raised an eyebrow as Honoré tried to explain himself. What did he mean that he couldn’t change a lot about her situation? He had always done stuff for her before, he persuaded their parents to let her go to that camp (which was the worst decision she’d ever made, but that was her fault), as the eldest he was surely the most powerful of the three Boisbouvier children. It simply wasn’t possible that he couldn’t do anything. Judging by what he said afterwards, Netta thought it was just that he simply didn’t want to do anything about it. “Why would I change my mind? I hate it!” She replied shrilly.

Honoré was unfortunately very correct. Netta did not hate everything about Beauxbatons. She liked that she could practice dance with Rainier whenever she wanted to now, since it was awfully difficult to practice ballroom dancing with their tutor who was easily twice the size of her, which had been the case since Rainier left for Beauxbatons. And of course, if for some reason her brother wasn’t available, then Honoré could fill in for him. They were mismatched in terms of size now, and supposedly her eldest brother did not dance anymore but if he refused, then Antoinette could always let slip that he was paying someone to dance in competition for him to their parents.

Admitting that she liked being with her brothers sounded far too saccharine for her though, and so she merely rolled her eyes. “I can! I can hate everything! And, I do!” She argued back, unable to explain the untrue statement beyond fervent protests.

“They would! They always listen to you!” Netta’s voice grew higher as she interjected, feeling a little more desperate as her brother seemed potentially unwilling to help her. She couldn’t stay here, she just couldn’t. He had to help her. Honoré said that he would tell them how she felt, that she wished to be homeschooled and Netta shook her head as she stepped in front of her brother into the hall, scrunching up her face briefly after. That wasn’t going to be enough, she was sure, even if it was better than nothing. Netta wanted to accuse him of not being willing to help enough, but knowing her brother that would just make him even less likely to help her. “Thank you,” she muttered faintly, grateful for the very little he was doing to help her escape the school.

She glanced at the Ombrelune in surprise as he said their parents would probably be impressed if she tried to make friends and settle in. “Really?” Antoinette questioned, her voice shrinking as her brows furrowed, thinking deeply about what he’d said. “But I…” Netta stopped dead in her tracks, glancing around to make sure no one would be listening in as she sat down at the table. “I don’t know how!” She whimpered, her chin wobbling as she looked up at her brother with watery, wide eyes. “No one in my dorm likes me. I don’t know what to do!”

As the first teardrop fell, Antoinette made a split second decision. She didn’t want the entire school to see her cry, so she decided to bury her face into Honoré’s chest, wrapping her arms around him tightly as she cried, leaving her brother to deal with the mane of curly hair that was awfully close to his face.

“Maybe…” Honoré began, his voice taking on a mocking tone that he had not even intended, “because you want to live your own life and not be a spoiled child forever?” He disliked how Netta was acting and how she made her parents and the employees at the hotel do what she wanted. Yes, their family was wealthy and, yes, of course living at the hotel had some advantages but that wasn’t what Honoré felt was real life. He was a fifth year student by now, he had talked to his schoolmates over the years. He’d rather come from a solid middle class background where not everything was about appearances and luxury than live the life he did where his own wishes didn’t count and he just had to play a role for his parents.

Netta’s shrill voice ended Honoré’s train of thought and he looked at his sister with very little compassion visible in her face. However, he chose not to comment. It made no sense to argue with her when her voice had already risen an octave. Of course, while Honoré knew this, it was hard to actually act accordingly when his sister was just saying more and more things that he could not agree with.

“No, as you know very well,  they don’t always listen to me.” Honoré said bitterly. He was referring to his own ‘career’ as a dancer. He had wanted to quit officially but his parents hadn’t allowed him to do that. He had, therefore, done the only thing that had seemed possible - he had quit behind their backs.

Netta thanked him for offering to write to their parents but he could tell that she wanted him to do more than what he had offered. He didn’t quite know what she expected, though. He was just a teenager and their parents hardly listened to him.

His sister’s reaction to him telling her that she should try to make friends made him feel a little less mad at her. He sighed and put a hand on his sister’s shoulder, rubbing it briefly before letting his hand sink down again.

“Well,” he began, unsure how he could help her. “Try being… nice to them? Do not look at them as though they are inferior to you? At school it doesn’t matter a lot where we come from. We’re all just students who came here to learn about magic.” He shrugged. “I’m sure some of the girls like to dance as well… and pretty dresses. You could bond over that, maybe.” When he had first started at Beauxbatons it had been a little of a rough awakening as well. It wasn't easy to get used to the changes but it was definitely possible to adjust and actually enjoy school to some degree.

As Netta buried her face into Honoré’s chest the boy awkwardly wrapped his arms around her, wrinkling his nose as her hair tickled his nose. “Shh,” he said, “don’t cry. You’ll get used to everything. I could maybe get you some sweets from Chatoeil and you could share them with your dormmates as a peace-offering?” He wasn’t sure how helpful that was but he was trying at least.

Why was Honoré so annoying and rude? Netta didn’t understand him at all. She thought he’d be happy to see her go home and go back to only seeing each other during the holidays. Netta had certainly preferred that. “I’m not spoiled!” She retorted in a high-pitched screech. “Besides, it isn’t possible for me to be a spoiled child forever, because one day I’ll be an adult, so there.” Antoinette added, half sticking her tongue out at him with an exaggerated scowl, feeling much more clever than she really was being with her comeback.

“Hmm…” Netta frowned, realising that her elder brother was unfortunately right on this occasion. She wouldn’t have to blackmail him in order to keep his secret if their parents had listened to what he wanted, she supposed. The little Papillonlisse still didn’t understand why Honoré had quit dancing. Part of her wondered if it was because of her. She had to suppress a shudder, feeling a rare pang of guilt. She hoped it wasn’t true. Despite this, Netta was still sure that they’d listen to his reasoning more than her little tantrums and childish sounding pleas. “Well, I still think they might listen to you for this.” She muttered in frustration, not quite ready to give up trying to get her brother to do what she wanted.

Netta shook her head as her brother suggested that she should be nice to them. “Why would I be nice to them when they aren’t nice to me first?” She huffed, feeling like Honoré was speaking complete nonsense. “But they are.” Antoinette argued as her brother seemed to imply that they weren’t inferior to her. Of course they were, she was a Boisbouvier. The other girls in her dormitory… Well, Netta wasn’t even sure she knew half of their names. He did have a point that maybe they liked dancing too, and dresses. She was sure she’d seen them looking at her own dresses when they weren’t in classes. Netta wasn’t going to share them though. They were her’s. “But… but… what do I say to them?”

“I’m not crying!” Netta snivelled pathetically, her voice muffled as she spoke into his chest. Her brother was suggesting that she should… bribe people to be her friends? “You’d… really do that for me?” Finally, Honoré was saying something that made sense. That was what their parents did, wasn’t it? All the dinner parties that they hosted and forced Netta to be a part of, all of their hospitality on show as they let their guests stay in the very best suites at their hotel, it was all to get those guests to do what they wanted. Netta could definitely do the same thing. She could buy her friendship with others. “What about macarons?” Antoinette asked, as she hastily wiped her eyes of tears whilst still hidden from view by pressing her forehead against her brother’s chest. “Everybody loves macarons, don’t they? That’s an easy bribe.” She reluctantly sat herself upright again, quickly fixing her hair and making doubly sure there were no tears on her face anymore before she looked at Honoré. “Oh, but you can only get the rose or the lavender flavour. Only the finest for my friends.”

Honoré only just refrained from rolling his eyes when his sister told him that she was not spoiled. “Great,” he said, mimicking a smile, “so one day you’re a spoiled heiress or what’s the plan?” He wasn’t sure why he didn’t just leave it. There clearly was no point in arguing with Netta now. No matter what he’d say now, he felt that she would just not get the point anyway.

Apparently Antoinette was still determined to make him write a letter to their parents asking them to take her out of school. He shrugged, it was probably less of a hassle to write a letter, telling them that she wished to come home and that she was (as had to be expected) struggling to get used to school and failing to make friends than to fight with her over it for much longer.

“I told you, I’ll write to them,” he said again, “just don’t get your hopes up too high. I doubt they’ll listen to me.”

Honoré suppressed a sigh when his little sister told him about her difficulties with the girls in her dormitory, making it quite clear that she saw herself as way superior than them. There was no surprise that nobody wanted to befriend her if she looked down to them in such a way. However, explaining this to her again was not going to change anything. His only chance was to offer Netta an alternative way of dealing with her dormmates.

“Of course I would,” Honoré said quietly, still patting her back as she seemed to consider his offer to get her sweets to share with the other girls in her year. “Macarons are always a good choice,” he said, less out of conviction but because he didn’t even bother to think about alternatives.

“Yeah,” the boy said, trying to smile when he really already started to wonder if his idea had been a good one. What if the other girls did not want to be his sister’s friends even if she tried to bribe them with macarons? He briefly wondered if he should try and get in touch with them, offer them money, sweets, or whatever else normal first year girls liked, to spend time with Netta. There had to be a way to buy his sister friends so that she felt more welcome at school.

“I’ll be in Chatoeil next weekend. Maybe you could write a list for me,” he offered, sounding not entirely convinced of the plan but trying to encourage Netta all the same.

“I’m not spoiled, Honoré!” Netta whined, stomping her foot to highlight her point. It wasn’t her fault that she was born into a family that had the ability to enjoy the finer things in life. It would be silly of her not to utilise that privilege to her advantage. Her brother clearly didn’t get that, but that was because he was a total idiot.

“Thank you.” Antoinette replied softly, placated somewhat to hear her brother say he would write to them. However, it was too late for her elder sibling to tell her not to get her hopes up. She was counting on Honoré succeeding so that she could get out of this personal hell and back home. She still felt her parents would listen to him, though this was perhaps more a wish that it would be true than an actual belief. There was no reason to continue arguing this point anymore, Netta believed.

Netta smiled to herself as Honoré seemed to approve of her bribe of choice. Perhaps she’d actually have some worthwhile friends now. If anyone didn’t like the refined choice of flavour she had made, then they were clearly not the right sort of witch to be worthy of being her friend anyway.

“Oh, really?” Netta asked as her brother said he’d be going to Chateoil the next week. That was a little while to wait, but still acceptable, she supposed. “That’s good.” She added with a small smile. She tried to keep her smile as he suggested that she should write him a list through her nose crinkled a little in distaste. She didn’t realise she’d have to put so much effort into having friends. Anotinette thought that maybe her brother would just somehow fix everything by the end of the day, and it was disappointing that this was not the case.

“I… I can do that, I suppose.” She eventually replied after a great debate on whether or not it was actually worth it. “I could give it to you tomorrow, maybe?” That would give her enough time to figure out how many witches she actually shared a dormitory with, and if she was going under the pretence that she’d buy them each more than one… “How many are enough to be my friend, do you think?” She asked genuinely. “Five? Six each?” How many macarons would that be? She definitely needed the rest of the day to figure that out.

With a grin Honoré greeted Netta’s statement that she was not spoiled. He thought she clearly was the most spoiled person he knew and she probably knew this herself. She was their parents’ little princess who easily managed to get every material thing she demanded. It wasn’t like he begrudged her for all the things she got. However, he wished their parents had also prepared his little sister for the real life that took place outside of the luxury hotel.

The way Antoinette thanked him for writing a letter to their parents made the boy feel uncomfortable. Clearly she had high hopes and he was pretty certain that she’d be disappointed in the end. Of course, he’d tell their parents all about how uncomfortable and out of place Netta felt and that she wanted to come home and be taught by a private tutor, but he saw little to no chance that their parents would even waste five minutes considering this.

Honoré looked at his sibling with slightly raised eyebrows, almost expecting her to demand that he’d go to Chatoeil earlier than he had offered. He observed her closely and so he noticed how she wrinkled her nose and could just stop himself from shaking his head. His sister really was impossible.

“Yes, I’m sure you can,” he said, his voice slightly sarcastic as he tried to stop himself from making any comments that would likely upset Antoinette again. “Tomorrow is good…” his voice trailed off as she heard her next question and, this time, a laugh escaped him as he shook his head.

“You are aware that this is no guarantee that they’ll become your friends, right?!” He was actually getting worried now that his idea had not been quite so good. With Netta’s general attitude this could backfire and make the girls in her dormitory despise her even more. “You should probably not… umm… tell them that you give them the macarons so they become your friends but…” he shrugged helplessly. He had no idea what to tell Papillonlisse first year girls so befriend them. It clearly wasn’t his area of expertise.