Harry Potter: The Last Heiress of The White Family

As the silver-haired girl stepped into the office, Madame Maxime looked up from her desk with a warm smile.

"Come in, sit down, Fleur. I have something to discuss with you."

The girl—Fleur Delacour—glanced briefly at the Headmistress before her sharp, crystalline gaze shifted toward the other occupant of the room. She tilted her head ever so slightly and asked, with a trace of disdain, "Is this another one of those girls complaining, Madame Maxime?"

Her eyes narrowed as she studied Eira. "Let me guess," Fleur continued, her voice tinged with dry amusement, "did your little boyfriend lose interest in you after seeing me? Or perhaps you worked up the courage to confess to your crush and found out he was more interested in me instead?" She gave a dismissive flick of her hair. "If it helps, I rejected him on the way here. So don't worry."

Before she could go any further, Madame Maxime raised a firm hand.

"It is not that at all, Fleur," she said, her voice laced with gentle authority. "Please, allow me to explain before you jump to conclusions."

She gestured toward the younger girl seated before her. "Her name is Eira White. She's a first-year student who has only just arrived. I called you here to introduce the two of you—your father insisted upon it, after all."

Turning her kind eyes toward Eira, Madame Maxime continued, "Fleur is a member of the noble Delacour family, and one of our most accomplished students. She's the young lady I mentioned earlier. I think it would do you both good to spend some time together, get to know one another."

Eira, ever composed, gave a polite nod. "Thank you, Madame Maxime," she said softly as she rose from her seat and left the office.

As the door clicked shut behind her, the smile on Maxime's face faded into something more serious.

"You were quite rude, Fleur," she said. "That is not the kind of first impression an elegant young lady should leave."

Fleur's expression faltered. She cast her eyes downward in shame. "She'll despise me, like everyone else," she muttered. "I'm sure of it."

"You don't know that," Maxime replied gently. "People are different. Eira may come from a noble family like yours, but she was raised without parents, without friends. She's not had an easy life. And besides—your father personally asked for this meeting. The Delacours and the Whites have been in partnership for generations. She will be the next heiress of that family. This is a rare opportunity for you to build a meaningful connection."

Fleur bit her lip, hesitating.

"Go," Madame Maxime urged, her voice kind but firm. "Don't keep her waiting. And be nice this time."

With a reluctant nod, Fleur turned and left the office.

⸻

Outside, beside the garden blooming at the roof of Beauxbatons Château, Eira stood alone, admiring the delicate bluebells that swayed in the soft summer breeze. She turned at the sound of approaching footsteps.

Fleur stood before her, the tension in her posture replaced with a hint of sincerity.

"I apologize for what I said earlier," she said, her voice lower now, more reserved. "I hope you don't take it to heart."

Eira regarded her for a moment, then smiled lightly. "Don't worry about it. Just a misunderstanding. From what I've seen since yesterday… your situation here isn't exactly friendly—especially with the other girls."

Fleur blinked in surprise, then gave a soft, bitter laugh. "You could say that. Over the past three years, I've been harassed by boys and hated by girls more times than I can count. It makes meeting new people… difficult."

"Are all the girls like that?" Eira asked, a hint of amusement in her tone. "Or are there some sane ones hiding in the corners?"

Fleur chuckled. "There are a few good ones. Most of the beautiful ones, though…" She trailed off with a knowing look. "Well, anyway. Come, let's walk together. It's lunchtime. Maybe we can grab something to eat."

Eira nodded, her smile growing a little warmer. "Sure, why not?"

⸻

As they strolled along the gravel path winding through the Beauxbatons gardens, birds chirping softly overhead, Fleur glanced sideways.

"I heard something interesting," she said casually. "You chose to come here instead of going to Hogwarts. Why?"

Eira paused a moment before answering, her eyes thoughtful. "Well, I came with my grandfather. It's kind of a tradition in our family to study here. But one day, I'll have to go back and transfer to Hogwarts."

Fleur raised a delicate brow. "Why is that? Don't like it here?"

"Oh, nothing like that," Eira said quickly. "I love it here. I could study here all the way through, honestly. But as a British citizen… and given my family's history, it's expected that I'll graduate from Hogwarts. Besides, I'm curious. I've heard stories about the school."

"Curious, hmm?" Fleur mused. "That's fair. Though Beauxbatons is far more elegant, in my opinion."

By the time they arrived at the Ombrelune Hall, the late afternoon sun filtered through the high glass windows. Some students sat at long tables eating lunch, while others huddled in corners, noses buried in books. The two girls took plates and helped themselves to the elegantly arranged spread of fresh baguettes, cheese wheels, roasted vegetables, and charmed pastries that shimmered faintly with sugar.

As they sat down, Fleur asked, "So, how was your first class?"

"It was good," Eira said honestly, "I enjoyed it. There's something satisfying about working with ingredients, watching them transform under your hands. It's like coaxing life from magic."

"That's good," Fleur said, nodding approvingly. "It's rare to see someone who actually enjoys studying. If you ever need help with anything, you can come to me."

Eira smiled, touched by the offer. "Thank you. I appreciate that."

A moment later, Fleur glanced at the clock and stood up. "I've got class this afternoon, so I should get going. It was nice meeting you, Eira. We'll catch up again soon, I hope."

"Nice meeting you too, Fleur," Eira replied, watching her go.

After finishing her lunch, Eira made her way back to her room. With no afternoon classes scheduled, she sank gratefully into her bed, letting the hum of distant chatter and the scent of lavender lull her into a peaceful afternoon nap.