Mr. Loverman - George Fabian Weasley

Chapter Two

I was disappointed, to say the least, when we finally made it back into the warm Great Hall after the Durmstrang students arrived, and I discovered that the Beauxbatons students would be sitting with the Ravenclaws. A small part of me hoped, rather foolishly, I suppose, that they would get seated with us, the Gryffindors. Maybe then I could've sat near the pretty girl. I could've heard her speak or learned her name. She does glance over at me briefly as she takes a seat, still sticking close to the side of the young blonde girl, but she quickly looks away, and I cannot see her expression. I sigh and rest my chin on my hand, looking down at the wooden table, and I don't look up again until the doors to the Great Hall open once again, and the teachers file in. My eyebrows raise, and the Hogwarts students break into laughter when the Beauxbatons lot jump up to their feet when their headmistress enters the room. The pretty girl seems to trip over her feet as she does this and steadies herself on the boy beside her before she straightens her posture and stands respectfully. The boy rolls his eyes at her and shrugs her hand off his shoulder, but she doesn't seem to care about the rejection. None of the Beauxbatons students seems embarrassed by the laughter from the people around them, and they don't take their seats again until Madam Maxime has taken her seat at the staff table.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and – most particularly – guests," Dumbledore says, beaming around at the visiting students. "I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable."

A Beauxbatons student with a muffler clutched around her head laughs derisively. The pretty girl leans close to her and utters something harshly under her breath.

"The Tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast," Dumbledore says. "I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!"

I don't notice that the food has appeared on the plates in front of me until Fred roughly jabs his elbow into my ribs.

"Ow! You twat!" I huff, looking away from the pretty girl and rubbing the throbbing spot in my ribs.

"You've not got a chance with that blonde girl, mate," Fred tells me, laughing loudly, and I scoff at him. I couldn't care less about the blonde girl that everybody seems so obsessed with. Since we first saw her, Lee has been talking my ear off about how hot she is. I think he's crazy. "I'm much hotter than you, and you'll probably creep her out if you keep staring."

"You're not hotter than me, and I am not interested in the blonde girl anyway," I say nonchalantly and grab the dish nearest me. As I spoon it onto my plate, I frown a little. I've never seen this dish in my life. They've never served anything like it before during the feast, but it seems to be some sort of shellfish stew. "What is this?"

"I don't know, but it looks gross... I hate shellfish," Lee shudders at the sight of the mussels on my plate. He picks up a plate of quiche and cuts a slice for himself. "I think they're French dishes. My mum makes this all the time. It's quiche lorraine."

"Right," I say, eyeing up my plate uncertainly. I would have never picked it if I wasn't so distracted by Fred and the pretty girl because I've never tried shellfish before, but I guess I will have to just eat it now. I gingerly raise a spoonful of the fish stew to my mouth and taste a bit of it, but I am pleased to announce that the fish stew is actually quite nice. I probably would not choose it again over the usual food at the welcome feast, but it will do for tonight.

"Excusez-moi, monsieur," a soft voice says politely behind Lee as I am about halfway through my dish. I look up and instantly meet a pair of green eyes. It's her. It's the pretty girl, and she's staring straight at me with a smile spread across her face. I gawk at her a little, my mouth hanging agape as she gestures to a bowl in the centre of the table. "Are you done with ze Bouillabaisse?"