“Yeah, Beauxbaton’s the French school,” she told Arthur, nodding. “My mum and her family lived in France. She really wanted me and my siblings to go there instead of to Hogwarts, but my grandparents wouldn’t let it happen.” She tilted her head, thinking about what she knew. Her mother had spoken fondly, and often, of her school - but it had been four years, now, and Lara couldn’t remember nearly all of it.
“She said it was stunning. Way fancier than Hogwarts in the Palace, and with super pretty grounds and stuff, too. They have big, elegant horse-drawn carriages and stuff, and the Headmistress is like, a giant or something. Plus, they have a nicer uniform than us. Their robes are made of silk.”
She realized, after she’d spoken, that she’d completely forgotten to introduce herself to the green-eyed boy. Her cheeks flushed. She held out her hand toward him to shake, hoping he didn’t already think her rude.
“I’m Lara, by the way,” she said. “Lara Youngblood. What’s your name?”
Hearing Emma describe the Sorting Hat made Lara… Uneasy? Nervous? She wasn’t sure. Nobody had ever told her that the Hat was old or wrinkly, or made it sound so… Invasive. Suddenly, she wasn’t looking forward to their arrival quite as much.
“Is it really that bad?” she asked Emma, only a hint of anxiety colouring her words. Did it really matter, though? Even if it was terrible, it would only last a minute or two, and then she’d never have to endure it again. It was like getting her ears pierced. It had been a sharp pinch, even though Madeleine had claimed that she ‘wouldn’t feel a thing’, and then it had stung for a few minutes before fading into an unpleasant memory. And then her dad had yelled at Madeleine for doing it without permission, which had been equal parts funny and upsetting.
“My dad works at Gringotts,” Lara answered Arthur. “My oldest brother’s a crisis Healer, and my second-oldest brother is a journalist.”