Arianne was outraged at having woken up so early on a damned holiday. No amount of coffee in the world could make her feel human after having partied until 3 AM the night before, and having one -or maybe 10- too many shots of absinthe. She slept for two hours. Two hours. It was not natural, and her body was certainly rioting against it. At least she was presentable. Three hours of preparation had apparently erased all traces of her latest debauchery. Except for her dark circles, that no amount of foundation charms and corrector had managed to completely erase. But she still mentally cursed the old lady for scheduling her so incredibly early. Well, truth be told 8 AM wasn't all that early... not usually. But it was early now.

She straightened the invisible folds on her apricot pencil skirt, took a deep breath, plastered a warm, polite smile on her face and knocked on the door. Four short knocks, neither too soft, nor too loud. She was sure the woman had some sort of wards on her door and with hideous gargoyle guarding the entrance, Arianne assumed the Headmistress would be notified of her presence, so she did without announcing herself. While waiting for the older woman's answer, in the blink of an eye, Arianne started to panic, wondering whether her speech was perfect, whether she'd actually remember it, but most of all whether the woman would agree. She had thought about it so long, kept changing her strategies and proposed curriculum at the last possible moment—and Minerva McGonagall was such an imposing woman. She wasn't normally nervous around people, but the strict Hogwarts headmistress had seen a formidable war, lived through it and achieved so much, Arianne couldn't help but be in awe with her.

She finally pushed the door open and entered the room, all nervousness seemingly gone, and all smiles and confidence in stead. "Bonjour, Directrice McGonagall. Thank you for agreeing to see me" she said in her heavy French accent, smiling and softly bowing her head in greeting.

Eight wasn’t exactly early for Minerva. True, being headmistress meant that she could keep more normalized hours, since there was an entire hierarchy in place to keep discipline out of her hands, but that didn’t mean that she could just slack off. The Prophet lay open upon the desk, a cup of tea warming the Headmistress’s fingers as she perused the headlines.  A grimace passed over her face at the foolish articles - obviously nothing of importance would be in the news this morn.

A fire roared happily in the grate, and Hera snoozed happily upon her perch, only recently returned from her nightly adventures. Dippet and Foghorn were having a rather rambunctious conversation over wizarding politics and Minerva was of half a mind to tell them to shut up, especially since their conversation was centuries outdated. Instead she just sighed and took another sip of the calming Lady Grey.

“Enter,” She called when she heard the polite rapping upon her door. Leave it to the social graces professor to be polite even in her knocking skills. “Welcome, Madame Desrosiers,” She smiled up at the visiting Beauxbatons alumni and waved her hand toward the seat opposite the desk. “Please, have a seat. Would you care for a cup of tea?” She asked. Minerva was pretty sure that she should stand to greet the woman, but it was still a bit early and besides, Arianne was visiting her and not the other way around. 

Arianne mentally cringed at hearing the form of address from the older woman. She understood many women in the French society these days were outraged at the distinction in form of address, thinking it sexist and therefore, preferred to be called "Madame" regardless of their marital status. However, Arianne thought the practice to be most improper and even insulting. Especially in a foreign country where the other, more denigrating connotation of the word "Madame" was also more prone to use. Yet, she smiled politely and promptly set to correct the woman.

"Mademoiselle Desrosiers, please" she said softly, while inclining her head apologetically. "Merci" she continued as she was offered a seat, and started walking towards it. She settled in the chair opposite the desk, her back straight, legs politely crossed and her hands clasped atop of her knees.

"Yes, thank you. Tea would be most delightful" she lied beautifully with a charming smile. In actuality, Arianne was most outraged by the English custom of tea. Tea was the answer to everything in this country, and while she had never been fond of the beverage, she was not disinclined to having it once in a while. But after the first month in this dreadful, cold country, she had grown so tired of tea, even the mention of it drove her to mentally scowl and growl. But, c'est la vie. When in England, do as the English do.

"I am terribly sorry if I have intruded in your holidays schedule, Headmistress" she said apologetically. Another custom she could not fathom: addressing one by their academic standing. "It seems this is a busy period indeed, with so many balls and galas, and other such social gatherings" she mused, doing her part of obligatory chit-chat before actually getting to the subject. "Oh, and excuse me for my lateness in congratulating you on the Yule Ball. It was... très magnifique" she said smiling, yet without actually meaning a word of it. The behavior of the students was atrocious at the least. Which is what brought her to this meeting in the first place. But, when one planned to insult someone - or their charges in this case - it was always best to start with a compliment.