Template:La Reve Bellefleur

De toutes facons, this is a strange position in which the French people de la magie find themselves - allied to the English, and against the Italians, with whom, en general, we share so much more. I remember, me, the Chinese curse, "May you live in interesting times". These are, sans doute, such days, and if we are to see others, better in their way, we must 'ride out the storm' as the English would say. Ah non, 'weather', that is the term. The obsession en Angleterre, the weather.

I moved into this echoing Presedential chamber, and my first recollection was of grandmere's sitting room, vraiment dire her 'company room', seulement for the guests the most special. We are now in a place where every guest is special, every visitor brings news, and not always welcome, either of them. I did not seek this office - it was the greatness, as Shakespeare says 'thrust upon' me, and now the pressure has dug France herself into a hole from which only with the aid of Acadia and other similar souls shall we emerge. We have partisans among the Anglaises, la famille LeClerc et les autres, but in the end I must look for Britannia in the haggard face of a man of the prisons, this Faris.

Across the water, as ever, it is both better and worse. Better in that the young are not so ravaged as the abomination perpetrated on Hogwarts by the WHPS, au meme temps there are les salauds, the 'scum' who seek to gorge on any morsel of power, and attach themselves to this new monstrosity in hopes that crumbs will fall from its table into their waiting maws. They are charogne, 'carrion' comme on dit en anglais, and they, strange though this may be, are why I will not abandon this fight or post. Because I have two nephews, and their France will not be the Vichy of such scavengers.