Un, Deux, Trois, Quatre…
"Un, deux, trois, quatre…” The soft sound of a girl practicing French could barely be heard by other students in the study room. Rosaline sat in a corner chair, back straight, head down, focusing on her current task, which wasn’t related to schoolwork. The room was half full, with only a handful of students here. It was pretty plain and ordinary, with no windows and few decorations. Yet it was helpful for her to concentrate. It wasn’t around the time when students needed to study for exams. Rosaline was here simply because it was in her nature to wander to a new location and try to learn French on her own. It was hard to believe that she hadn’t been to the study room after almost two full months she had been at Hogwarts.
Because she was in the castle, it wasn’t that cold. She didn’t wear a jacket out today, only a blue shirt under her argyle sweater and a dark blue plaid midi skirt. Her blue socks made a cute contrast with her brown loafers. The blue garment always suited her, bringing out the color of her eyes. It was her free time after all her classes finished. Wanting to take time learning something new, she was studying a French textbook she had brought to school before. The book was just beginner-level. She hadn’t learned French before. But she had always wanted to; she just didn’t have time between attending her Muggle school, meeting her magic tutor, and practicing her instruments. Finally, at Hogwarts, she had some time to try learning it. She started with French numbers, the ones she already knew from her aunt Blanche. Her aunt came from France and taught her some very elemental knowledge of the language. So, she only knew some basic pronunciation rules.
Her brows furrowed. She stared at the pages in front of her. Wondering if there were any spells that could let her know the pronunciation of the sentences, she wanted to have a computer beside her that she could search online. Yet that wasn’t going to happen. She signed slightly. Running her fingers through her hair, she smelled a hint of rose and pink pepper. Her perfume. It was the one she liked to wear when she needed to focus. The fragrance of rose and a little oriental scent made it perfect for helping her concentrate. However, today she needed something more than perfume to conquer the language barrier.
She thought language was key to so many great works of knowledge and literature in the world, yet she was struggling to catch the key right now. Propping her chin on her left hand, she began to recall how people talked in all the French films she had watched – Rohmer, Varda, Godard. The actresses in them were perpetually elegant and beautiful. Could she be that fluent one day? Pondering, she started thinking whether learning French on her own was really a good idea. She shook her head lightly, returning to the book she should pay attention to. At least she could try.
Refocusing on the topic of the page she had turned, which was some basic greetings and conversational phrases, like bonjour, salut, bonsoir, merci, merci beaucoup… Grabbing her pen from the desk, she opened her notebook to a fresh page. As she wrote down these phrases neatly, she recited them in a low voice. Yet because of her lack of examples and experience, she pronounced ‘beaucoup’ wrong, as ‘boo-coop’. The mistake might sound like nothing in Rosaline’s ear; on the contrary, it would be a clichéd one to a native French speaker.
stamina: 6 | evasion: 5 | strength: 5
wisdom: 8 | arcane Power: 7 |accuracy: 4
Lovely Creature
Un, Deux, Trois, Quatre…
| C | date: 22/10/2025 location: Study Room |
abilities: lovely creature dialogue: #0a2a28 mentioned: @Rosaline Everhart |
C |
| CV | It was the middle of term and homework was generously being stacked upon him. With the Christmas break just two months away, it seemed the professors were determined to assign as much work as possible now—before everyone became too distracted by their holiday plans, most likely returning home for the winter break—to focus on studying. Camille had sought out the infamous, yet unremarkable study room to help him concentrate on his assignments. He’d tried his luck with the library at first, though after spotting several faces he loathed between the shelves, the boy had briskly turned on his heel and left before anyone could bother him. The Ravenclaw common room was out of the question, there, neither, would he find much peace. Besides, the study room, as uninspired as it was— lacking any form of decorations, windows or even proper ventilation, by the immediate looks of it— was much less crowded; only a handful of students were sitting about, noses deep in the course literature and notes, too busy to even glance up when he stepped inside the room. Finding it perfectly suited for his intentions, Camille took his books and parchment and looked for a vacant seat. Treading behind some tables and chairs, Camille stopped in his stride when a tragically butchered pronunciation of a French word reached his ear. “Boo-coop.” He backtracked one step and glanced to his left, gaze landing on where Rosaline sat, minding her own business. Seeing that it was one of the girls he carried somewhat of a soft spot for, Camille immediately regretted calling it “tragic.” There was room for… a lot of improvement, that’s all. To him particularly, especially as a Frenchman, it was far enough removed from the original word that it could have meant something else entirely. Had he not been paying close attention, or not been surrounded by English speakers every minute of the day— making this so out of the ordinary as to merit a second listen— he might never have noticed. Now, while paying proper attention, however, he recognised it clearly for what it was supposed to be: beaucoup. The boy lingered there for another moment, listening to her ambitious repetition with a sympathetic grimace at some of the words attempted— admirable, if nothing else— mentally wondering why she hadn’t told him sooner that she was learning French. Camille would have generously offered to be of assistance. A month earlier, they’d discussed his heritage, making him, out of the few native speakers available, the clear option to ask for help. Clearly, she needed some help if she hoped to become fluent. At the early stages, like it sounded she was currently at, since she was practicing the most basic of words, it was even more important with a proper foundation. Deciding enough was enough torture, Camille approached her table, requiring only a few steps before coming to a halt at her side. The familiar and expected scent of fresh roses greeted him before she did. Remaining standing for now, he greeted her, “Rosaline,” while wearing a more pleasant smile than previously; his goal was not to discourage her, after all. “I couldn’t help but overhear you. It’s actually beaucoup, not boo-coop,” he corrected gently, but with intent. To soften the blow, he asked, “Anyway, I didn’t know you were learning French. Is this a new pursuit?” Even if her pronunciation hadn’t been perfect, it was obvious in his expression of openness that Camille approved of her new ambition to learn his language. Perhaps it was just his delusions, but he couldn’t help but wonder if he, somehow, had sparked this newfound interest. |
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Ilias Lahlou | Ilvermorny
Un, Deux, Trois, Quatre…
Rosaline put down her pen, her posture loosened a little, and she propped her chin on her hand. Her chestnut-brown hair slightly covered her eyes. It was down to her back now; she should probably get a haircut someday. Tucking a strand of it behind her ear, she leafed through the pages to see what the next few topics were. Self-introduction, family, animals, colors. They were topics she had only very basic knowledge of. Rosaline turned back to the page she was working on, trying to recite them again. Though there were phonics to help her enunciation, she felt it was quite hard to learn these sentences properly without a reference. She wondered if she could ask her parents to hire a French tutor or ask Aunt Blanche some questions, but that would be something she could only handle during the winter break. She also doubted she would have any time to study French because of all the family gatherings she would have to attend.
Her brows knitted together as she couldn’t think of a solution. A figure came to her mind: her train-ride companion and class partner, Camille, the person she had once gotten lost with in the corridors. She had asked him if he was a Frenchman. Chuckling softly at the memory, she realized the answer was too obvious; she still didn’t know why she had asked that. What if she could ask Camille about the language… Rosaline shook her head quickly, brushing off the idea. She didn’t want to bother others for her own interest. She was also slightly embarrassed by how little French she knew. Refocusing on her notes, she was going to go over the greeting sentences again.
Students in the Study Room were all poring over their homework or tasks. The only sounds that were audible were quills scratching the paper and people discussing the subjects in a low voice. In this ambiance, Rosaline felt comfortable studying. As she was ready to turn to the next page, she heard a series of footsteps closer to her. She thought that someone needed to pass her to their seat, then a familiar sound called her. “Rosaline.”
She was startled a bit and looked in the direction of the voice. Her fingers wrinkled the edge of the page. Spoke of the devil. It was Camille. His appearance was as flawless as usual. He corrected her with a friendly smile. Though Rosaline knew he meant well and he was correct, she still felt a bit flustered by her mistake. It was no doubt a stupid one. Her face colored with a light rosy pink. ‘Beaucoup’ in his enunciation sounded perfect. She noticed he deliberately softened the blow and tried to replicate it. “Beaucoup.” It sounded much better than her last attempt. She met his gaze and showed a sheepish smile. “Thank you for the correction. I was worrying how these words should be enunciated,” she said gently. Looking back and forth to her note and Camille, she answered his question, “I’ve always wanted to learn it and know more about French culture. Since I have an aunt who is from France, I quite like those French films.” She was more confident as she talked about her interests, then she noticed that Camille was from a pure-blood family, and she wasn’t sure whether he knew what movies were. Observing him, he was carrying some parchments, looking as if he was here to study, she found that he was still standing. In a brief moment, she swiftly pulled the chair next to her and suggested, “I assume you’re here to study. If you don’t mind, would you like to sit here?”
After the initial awkwardness, she had gotten over it and pondered whether she should just ask Camille about the problems she had encountered when she tried to learn French herself. She turned the page to the topic of self-introduction. There were several sentence patterns to let her practice, like ‘Je m’appelle…’, ‘Je suis…’, ‘J’habite…’. She tried to put these into full sentences and wrote them down in her notebook. The grammar wasn’t hard to understand, yet she didn’t have the confidence to pull off the pronunciation. She decided to seek help. Tapping Camille’s shoulder, she asked, her tone was almost a little helpless, “Can you help me with this unit? I’m not sure if I can enunciate them properly like the ‘boo-coop’ earlier.” She joked.
stamina: 6 | evasion: 5 | strength: 5
wisdom: 8 | arcane Power: 7 |accuracy: 4
Lovely Creature
Un, Deux, Trois, Quatre…
| C | date: 22/10/2025 location: Study Room |
abilities: lovely creature dialogue: #0a2a28 mentioned: @Rosaline Everhart |
C |
| CV | Rosaline seemed startled to have been approached and interrupted during her study, but she accepted the critique well, and her next attempt already sounded much better. The rosy tint on the Gryffindor girl’s cheeks betrayed her embarrassment; if anything, Camille didn’t mind observing the image, finding it rather appealing. He did not care to show that he’d noticed — it would be impolite to point out her embarrassment — and merely nodded in approval when she could now continue on the right track. It wouldn’t have felt right to leave her to fend for herself; besides, his pride was too grand to let it slide without an intervention. “Thank you for the correction. I was worrying how these words should be enunciated. I’ve always wanted to learn it and know more about French culture. Since I have an aunt who is from France, I quite like those French films,” Rosaline told him about where her inspiration had come from. Ignoring the muggle references that were unknown to him, he focused on the parts he understood. Learning French from scratch on her own was an ambitious project, Camille thought, one now more likely to succeed after a few key corrections. “Well, then it’s a good start. I’m just surprised you didn’t tell me sooner,” he said in a lightly teasing tone, suspecting she was capable of harmless teasing. Of course, the obvious person to ask — in his mind — could have saved her some time mastering the basics. “If you have any more questions, I’d be happy to help.” After he had lingered aimlessly for longer than intended, Rosaline, having deduced that he was also here to study, gracefully pulled out a chair and offered him a seat beside her. Surprised to realize he had almost forgotten why he was here, he glanced at the chair but quickly accepted the invitation. Usually, he preferred to work alone, unless someone could be relied on to do the work for him, but there was no reason to decline Rosaline’s company. “Yes, that was the plan. It feels like the homework never stops stacking up,” he sighed with an exasperated roll of his eyes at the institution's cruelty, then offered her a grateful smile. “Thank you.” Camille placed his supplies on the table and sat down. After a moment, the conversation came to a natural silence. Both resumed their studying; Rosaline returned to her French literature, and Camille to the seemingly endless list of essays waiting to be written. Bent over his material, he skimmed the pages with lazy focus, twirling his quill between his fingers and periodically lowering his gaze to the parchment beside him to scribble down a few half-formed observations about the topic of Hags. Despite his mediocre concentration, he didn’t pay Rosaline’s progress much mind until he felt a delicate tap on his shoulder. Dragging his gaze away from the five sparse sentences he’d managed to write up until then, he looked up at her helpless expression, then down at her notes on the unit of introductions. The text was simple enough that he did not fear that it would steal the rest of his night. There was still homework to do, but he could afford to walk her through the steps. Without hesitation, his expression softened as he turned his full attention to her. “Alright,” he said, reassuring. “Let’s walk through the dialogue. I start, and you reply, d’accord?” Setting his quill aside, he leaned over to get a better view of the text, his arm brushing against her knit sweater as he read the first line aloud. Breathing in, the rose and cedar was almost all consuming at this proximity, though nothing he allowed to distract him. “Salut. Je m’appelle Camille.” He glanced up from beneath his lashes, waiting for her turn, a small, patient smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. |
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Ilias Lahlou | Ilvermorny
Un, Deux, Trois, Quatre…
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cvcv | 𝕽osaline felt relieved after she saw Camille’s approval of her pronunciation. A smile spread across her face. The young girl heard Camille’s teasing; she replied with the corners of her mouth curved, “I thought I could learn this by myself, but as you saw, it’s difficult to learn it without a proper teacher.” She chuckled. The rosy tint on her cheeks gradually dissipated because of their casual conversation. Once she noticed her mistake wasn’t bothering Camille that much, she could put the embarrassment aside. "Really? That’d be very helpful. Thank you, Camille." The brunette turned to face the young Ravenclaw with her lighting-up ocean eyes. “I’ll have a chance to show the Lavallière my French skills when I get better at it,” she said, expression softened. Wondering whether there was a chance that Camille knew the Lavallières, her aunt Blanche’s family, she tilted her head and observed Camille’s reaction. The Lavallière was a French pureblood family as well as the De Varenne, so there might be a chance he heard of the family before. She always paid a visit to the Lavallière with the Wrenford in summer. The atmosphere in Paris was quite extraordinary every time she went there. She liked wandering into the bookstore; though she hadn’t mastered the French skills, it was fun to explore nonetheless. Rosaline started to ponder why she hadn’t learned any French even though she had been there so many times; a face appeared in her mind, Charles, her beloved cousin. He always took care of everything for her; in the end, the only chance she had to speak French was saying "Merci" and "Bonjour." But either way, Rosaline was glad Camille was willing to teach her French. She thought of their first meeting; Camille was quite upset about the food choices on the train. The second time they spent together in the corridors, she had already found his quite sweet nature under his distance at first glance. Camille accepted her proposal to sit beside her. Rosaline usually studied on her own, yet she liked having company too, especially with her friends. Because they were still in the study room, she kept her voice deep and said, “Yeah, the homework does feel like a never-ending task. What are you working on right now? If it’s not Herbology, I might be able to help.” She suggested with a warm smile. “After all, you’re helping me with my French; I hope I can do something in return.” A moment of silence and studying time had passed. Camille kindly offered his help again and leaned toward her side to read the text on her book. Rosaline gave him a grateful look and determined to study French harder from now on. “Oui, merci,” she replied to the Frenchman. “Salut. Je m’appelle Camille.” As Camille said in the first dialogue, Rosaline quickly combed through her mind and prepared her self-introduction. The Ravenclaw’s pronunciation really helped her, and his smile loosened her tensions of practicing the unfamiliar language. “Enchanté, Camille." She put on a sweet smile for him and then glanced at the page swiftly, and then she continued her attempt, not noticing she might make a slight mistake somewhere. “Je m’appelle Rosaline. Je suis une étudiant de Hogwarts.” She chose the wording of ‘Étudiant’ because it sounded like ‘student’ in English, and she vaguely remembered it meant 'student' too. After she finished, she looked at Camille with some uncertainty in her blue eyes, running a thumb along the edge of the pages. |
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Notes I'M SO SORRY HOW LATE THIS IS. also the code is so cute I LOVEEE. |
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Stats & Abilities sta: 6 | eva: 5 | str: 5 wis: 8 | arc: 7 | acc: 4 Lovely Creature |
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Un, Deux, Trois, Quatre…
| C | date: 22/10/2025 location: Study Room |
abilities: lovely creature dialogue: #0a2a28 mentioned: @Rosaline Everhart |
C |
| CV | In theory, it was kind of Rosaline to offer to help him with his homework, as long as it wasn’t on the subject of Herbology. To admit that he needed help, however, was something Camille’s pride wouldn’t allow. Of course, he didn’t need help with his essays, and while he usually didn’t turn down an offer when someone wanted to do his work for him, to accept that from a girl he was rather fond of felt beneath him. He was lazy at times and accepted opportunities as they were served, but not at the cost of his dignity and class. Acting far less horrified by the implication that he was in need of assistance than he was, Camille shook his head gently, keeping the smile on his face. “It's the essay on Hags in defence against the dark arts. It’s not difficult, just… uninspiring and time consuming. I appreciate your offer, though.” He was much more keen on continuing with her French studies than discussing his own work. Already one sentence into the material, Camile strayed from the prepared conversation. He didn’t actually have to look at the pages to know what to answer to her introducing herself by her name and function. It had sounded correct to him, though there was clear uncertainty in her eyes as she watched him, waiting for his critique. Without breaking eye contact, he gave an easy smile and replied as he would have in normal conversation. However, he tried to keep it in simple terms for the convenience of her education, as well as pronouncing the words slowly, not in a way that sounded like he was speaking to someone incompetent, but rather a cadence bordering on an intimate whisper. Given the location, they were expected to keep their voices down regardless. “Moi aussi,” Camille said with a light chuckle, finding some humor in the context of them both clearly being Hogwarts students and still having to say it. That was the process of learning a new language, he supposed: repeating the most unnecessary information. In case that had not been covered in the book yet, he quickly clarified: “Me too.” “Mais, je m'attendais à étudier á Beauxbâtons. Mon père a d'autres plans.” Going into details about their move would be terribly tedious, as well as too advanced for the girl, he reckoned, hence why he stopped himself short of ranting after telling her that he’d expected to attend the French wizarding school, albeit his father had other plans. Perhaps Rosaline could relate, remembering that she had thrown a French name into the conversation earlier, someone she ought to impress with her new linguistic skills later. Briefly, he wondered if she had family in France. If so was the case, maybe, for a moment, she had imagined herself at Beauxbatons. With her current French, though, acceptance was unlikely. Throwing another glance at the book on the table, he picked up an appropriate counter question once more. Camille couldn’t remember if he’d already asked her where she’d lived, or if she’d already told him in conversation, yet he asked anyway, if only to keep the exchange flowing. “Alors, où habites-tu?” |
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Ilias Lahlou | Ilvermorny