The air was thick with the floral perfume from the Beauxbaton girls. Harry stepped reluctantly into the room as the strong aroma enveloped him.
Ah, He thought, this is gonna stick for a long time.
He sighed, turning his attention to the students from Beauxbaton. His breath hitched for a minute as his eyes caught hold of a tall boy with platinum blonde hair. He wore, like all the others, fine, thin, blue silk. Harry tried to tune into the conversation happening near him.
" Tu aimes ?" He overheard a cute, short blonde girl ask the boy.
"Oui. Je pense que c'est grandiose." He replied.
Oh my god. Harry thought, his heart thumping against his chest rapidly.
He couldn't understand French, but he could tell that the boy was an eloquent speaker. He was staring so intently at the boy that he hasn't noticed that he had started to stare back.
He flashed Harry a smile, letting him see what looked like incisors pressing against his bottom lip. Blush spread across Harry's dark face, making the boy giggle and return to his conversation with the short lady. He felt a nudge in his back from the man behind him, Igor Mikhailov.
"Looks like someone's head-over-heels for the Beauxbaton boy." He teased with a laugh.
"Shove off, Igor." Harry said, adjusting his glasses and quickly composing himself.
But no matter how much he denied it, he was, without a doubt, head over heels for the Beauxbaton boy.