Un ami PV Chezem Balthazar

His soul almost leaves his body through his mouth with the boy's sudden apparition. Feeling his cheeks burn with embarrassment, Virgil looks at the kid — pale skin and blue eyes, matching perfectly with his blonde hair. Adorable, he thinks to himself, knowing he looked even more like an ogre compared to a cute boy like that other Slytherin, before shaking his thoughts away, paying attention to what the first year's saying.

"Do you at least understand what it's saying since you seem to be trying to figure out how to say it properly?" The blonde boy asks, but not in a mocking tone, or so Virgil supposes.

It still stings anyways — to have been caught by someone who said what he was trying to say so effortlessly. (He's always been a little proud, particularly when it came to learning. Both of his parents are great wizards, after all, so it only makes sense that he's one too! Right?)

"Once when I was six years old I saw a magnificent picture," says Virgil a little defiantly, with an urge to cross his arms and look at the kid and childishly point out: Ha! See, I'm not completely stupid! But he doesn't do that. Instead, he looks down at the book one more time and asks, "... Right? Is that correct?"

He sounds a little pathetic (like always, his brain tells him but Virgil ignores it), so he adds, playing with the pages of 'The Little Prince', "I-I understand most of what I read. My pronunciation sucks, though..."

Reducio

No problem. Take your time.

"Oh... Thanks, I, it's just that — I don't have anyone to practice with, so, yeah," he mumbles embarrassingly, voice soft since the boy probably realized he got a bit offended by his question — pride clearly wounded. He plays with the cover of The Little Prince, ignoring the way his cheeks burn a little as the first year, Chezem, studies his features.

Giving him another quick glance, Virge notes that the kid's now sitting next to him, and up close, he looks like one of those cute porcelain dolls. "I'm Virgil, by the way..." He tries to sound a little more confident, to no avail, of course. The thing is: he can never be smooth and charismatic, he's a shy mess all the time. "Virgil Lee. Nice to meet you..."

Chezem's pronunciation is perfect, so much better than his aunt's — the boy's probably French, or lived there for a certain period. Hm, Virgil thinks to himself, wondering if he was like him — with someone teaching him a second language, like how he learned Korean without never actually going there.

As always, he tries to break that silence that hasn't even settled yet, asking, looking around, pretending he doesn't care, but, deep down, Virgil wants to know. "Uh, are you French? How come you know french so well?"

"I'll try to keep that in mind..." Virgil directs him a quick smile, playing with his hair with his left hand as he opens his book again, touching the pages with his fingertips. His anxiety tells him that Chezem knows that's a children's book and that he looks a little stupid, which he ignores entirely, shrugging, "Even though I'm sure I'll forget. My memory isn't that great..."

Virgil's never been to France, even though his aunt Naomi always invited him to spend his vacations or even live there with her. His mother Blair never allowed him to go, as his aunt can be a little... Crazy. Well, that's how both his parents would describe her, anyways. Virgil likes the word "energetic".

Naomi Armitage is this dark-haired witch in her early forties, but the way she plays around, always cracking jokes makes it seem she's around twenty. She's a great witch — kind of a hipster — and moved because of a job opportunity to join the Ministry of Magical Affairs of France — how cool is that?

She doesn't have any kids and never got married, so she directs all of her love and affection towards her nieces and nephews — not hiding from anyone that he is her favorite nephew. He always wanted to visit her for a few days, or perhaps, even stay for a month or so, but Mum would probably have a heart attack if he even dared to mention it, being so worried about his safety and all that. Well, he can't blame her for that, Naomi did break his wrist on an accident with a broom when he was nine, so, yeah, he could see where Blair was coming from.

It'd still be nice, though.

"How's France like?" Virgil asks, a little starry-eyed, imagining exploring the streets and watching the Eiffel Tower while his aunt told him about her job and the many adventures she'd had.

He watches Chezem as the boy goes on his ramble about Paris, imagining himself being able to do all of those things with his aunt and parents. They'd have a good time, Virge's sure, but he doubt his father would ever leave his dragons to be able to relax properly. Mihyung's in need of a break. He has been for a very long time, as a matter of fact.

The dragons need a lot of attention, Virge. Especially now that we have a new baby. I need to be there for them, you know that. Maybe another time, alright? Father used to write back to him whenever he suggested they could spend the summer vacations together doing whatever. He accepted it, but well, a boy could dream, right?

Virgil smiles softly when Chezem embarrassingly stops talking, laughing nervously, "Sometimes I can get a tad bit carried away and can not help myself."

"Oh, it's fine! Don't worry about it!" says Virgil shaking his head and shoulders too, in a dismissive manner. "France seems great. Maybe someday I'll be able to go there with the rest of my family. Who knows?"

He looks down, a little sad because he's sure that he'd have to wait a long time for his dream to come true.