fleur weasley is teaching your children theorems (bleuet) wrote in wished,
It had been nearly a week already since term had started, and Fleur could neither believe how quickly it had passed, nor how much work she already had to do. She hadn't expected this job to be easy, but it was true she was feeling something like culture shock. After years of dealing with goblins at the bank and raising a toddler, Fleur had thought that teaching children might be a breeze - she found, instead, that they simply presented a whole new slew of challenges. One particularly annoying episode on Friday had found her trying to figure out how to deal with a willfully rude fifth year Ravenclaw who kept insisting that he couldn't understand her accent. Fleur rather suspected that this was not actually the case, but him just being difficult after she'd told him to stop disrupting the class.
Fortunately, it was the start of a fresh week, and there were a few hours over lunch before she'd have another class. Her taste for the Hogwarts food hadn't changed - Fleur still found it largely unappealing. To combat this issue, she had decided to set up a sort of makeshift kitchen in the corner of the office. There was a little room for it, and so far it wasn't proving obtrusive - just stove and a small prep table with a cupboard above. Being able to eat to her liking was worth the loss of workspace.
She was excited by the prospect of Bill dropping by. He hadn't seen the office fully finished, yet, and she did miss seeing him while she was here. Aside from the kitchenette, Fleur had done a lot of work on the wallpaper and decor, so that now nearly everything had a very clean and distinctly feminine look. Creamy wallpaper was dotted here and there with photos and paintings, and gauzy, sea-green curtains were floating lightly in the breeze her open windows permitted. Perhaps the only thing that seemed not to fit was the wall space just above her desk, which was filled with drawing Victoire had made over the summer.
A rap at the door made Fleur lift her eyes from the stack of parchments she was grading (the current one looking rather abysmal), and she stood quickly to answer it. As she'd hoped, it was Bill, and she opened the door wider and leaned out to kiss him quickly on the cheek. "Ah, your timing is perfect. I am going over an essay and it is terrible. I do not think this girl was listening to the assignment at all."