A light drizzle suddenly fell over the square.
Jon muttered a curse under his breath and quickly scanned his surroundings. Spotting a statue whose protruding front offered just enough shelter, he immediately tiptoed over and ducked beneath it to escape the rain.
If he got soaked, the effectiveness of his Disillusionment Charm would be greatly reduced.
Yet the Beauxbatons students standing in formation across the square did not move at all. Regardless of gender or age, they remained exactly as they were before—silent, motionless, waiting in the rain. The entire square was filled with nothing but the sound of raindrops striking the marble ground.
Not only the students, but also more than a dozen witches and wizards dressed like teachers stood in the rain at the very back of the formation. Jon even spotted Mr. Philip Madan—the man from the carriage earlier—among them.
Sheltering beneath the statue, Jon felt a flicker of surprise.
It seemed his earlier assumption had been correct. The atmosphere at Beauxbatons was utterly different from Hogwarts.
Compared to Hogwarts, with its relatively loose rules and relaxed management, Beauxbatons clearly enforced far stricter regulations. The students here were far more accustomed to discipline and obedience. It reminded Jon of the Halloween banquet two years ago, when Beauxbatons and Durmstrang visited Hogwarts.
The sixth- and seventh-year students who followed their Headmistress had stood ramrod straight in the Great Hall the entire time—remaining upright until Madame Maxime herself took her seat.
Fortunately, the wait did not last long.
Just a few minutes later, Madame Olympe Maxime arrived.
...
Olympe Maxime, the Headmistress of Beauxbatons—
Her hair was swept neatly back into a gleaming chignon at the nape of her neck. From head to toe, she was wrapped in a black satin gown, while opulent opals glittered at her throat and on her thick fingers.
Though she stood at the very front of the square, her presence was impossible to miss. Even from afar, Jon could clearly see her every movement.
Madame Maxime raised her wand and gave a light sweep toward the sky.
In the next instant, it was as if an invisible curtain had been drawn between the heavens and the crowd. The rain stopped abruptly.
Most of the students had already been drenched—especially the girls with long hair, their soaked locks clinging heavily to them. Watching them, Jon couldn't help but worry that someone might catch a cold like this. Yet none of the students seemed to care. Their eyes were all fixed on the striking figure of the Headmistress at the front of the square.
"Welcome back to Beauxbatons!" Madame Maxime's stern voice rang out. "I expect you to put aside the laziness and ease of the summer holidays as quickly as possible. Adapt to the rigorous academic atmosphere of the new term without delay. Work harder this year, and acquire even more knowledge…"
Her words were brief and to the point, carrying an unmistakable air of authority.
"Additionally, as the term begins, there are several matters I wish to emphasize. First, no student is permitted to enter the forests surrounding the school or disturb the Veela living there. New students, in particular, should pay close attention to this. Furthermore, Quidditch player evaluations will begin in the second week of term…"
"…Finally, once again, welcome back to Beauxbatons." Madame Maxime paused, then issued her command. "Now, enter the Great Hall in order of year, and let the start-of-term feast begin!"
She raised her wand for a second time.
This time, Jon felt a warm, powerful gust rush toward him, forcing him to lower his head. He wasn't the only one—every student instinctively lifted a hand to shield their face from the wind.
The warm breeze lasted for nearly a minute. When it finally faded, all traces of rain were gone. Hair and clothing alike were completely dry.
But when the students looked up again, Madame Maxime was nowhere to be seen.
She must have already entered the castle.
On the far left side of the square, a group of smaller boys and girls had begun moving forward under the guidance of several teachers. They were clearly first-year students.
...
Jon quietly slipped out from beneath the statue. The ground had already dried, allowing him to move without attracting attention.
Unlike Hogwarts, which divided students into houses, Beauxbatons grouped its students strictly by year.
The first-years entered the castle first, followed closely by the second-years.
Relying on the Disillusionment Charm concealing him, Jon tiptoed along behind the second-years and blended into the flow as they entered the castle.
Like Hogwarts, the stone walls were lined with blazing torches, and the ceiling soared so high it was almost impossible to see the top. They climbed a grand marble staircase, with numerous half-open rooms lining the way.
Jon stayed alert the entire time, wary of any revealing wards or detection spells. But Beauxbatons was, after all, a school—and unlike Hogwarts, it didn't have infamous Dark Wizard alumni like Voldemort roaming free. Nothing disrupted his passage.
The second-year students numbered around a hundred. Walking two abreast, they crossed the marble floors in perfectly orderly lines, causing not the slightest disturbance.
This suited Jon perfectly. Following behind such a disciplined group meant he didn't have to worry about being "accidentally" bumped into.
As he carefully kept pace, Jon studied his surroundings with curiosity.
When they passed a small room that looked like an old-fashioned wardrobe or linen storage, an idea suddenly occurred to him.
He slowed his steps. Once the second-years had moved far enough ahead and the third-years had yet to arrive, he gently pushed open the door to the old wardrobe, slipped inside, and quietly closed it behind him.
...
Yes—inside, the room was piled high with all kinds of clothing.
Jon quickly found a male Beauxbatons uniform. After casting a simple Cleaning Charm on it, he decisively changed into the silver silk outfit.
He cast the Disillusionment Charm on himself once more, gently opened the wardrobe door, and slipped back out—this time merging into the group behind him, which appeared to be made up of sixth- and seventh-year students.
Following this group, Jon successfully entered the Great Hall.
Inside, seven long tables were arranged neatly, easily distinguishable by age. From left to right sat students from first year through seventh year.
Madame Maxime stood at the head table, and students throughout the hall rose to their feet in unison.
Jon located the fifth-year table and quietly made his way to the very back of the group, carefully avoiding contact with anyone as he slipped into place.