This story follows Victoire through her fifth and sixth year, years that will include Quidditch games, Prefect duties, pesky siblings, nosy aunts, and one increasingly attractive best mate.
( Chapter One: Train RideCollapse )
“You kids better hurry up or we’ll miss the train!”
Victoire bounced on her trunk trying to get the latch to click shut. She had heard her brother lug his belongings downstairs twenty minutes ago. Her sister, most unusually, was still throwing objects about in her room, Victoire could still hear occasional thunks from flying objects smashing into their shared wall.
“What’s wrong, Dominique?” Victoire asked as her sister burst out of her own room, a blur in a red jersey, and stopped in Victoire’s doorway. Her sister was the only brunette in the family; her hair was yanked up into a messy ponytail, as it was most days, and she wore the typical baggy jumper over jeans. No one could possibly call her ugly, but she had not inherited their mother’s over concern for appearance. Victoire most definitely had.
“Have you seen my broom repair kit?” she huffed as her eyes searched the room.
“I saw Louis using it last night,” Victoire offered with a shrug of her shoulders. Dominique growled and leaned over the stairway banister.
“Dad! Louis stole my broom repair kit!”
“I told you last night, Nicki! I packed it in my trunk!” Louis’s yell echoed up the stairs.
“You did not! And you can’t pack worth a damn! Find it now!”
“Dominique Weasley!” Their mother was coming up the stairs. “You weel not swear at your twin brozer like zat!”
“Yes Maman,” she mumbled under her breath, still glaring down at her brother.
“Be good and ‘ave a nice term, mon petite,” Fluer said, waving her wand over Dominique’ trunk so it shrank to fit in her pocket.
“Thanks Mum, I will,” Dominique grinned at her lightened load and stopped to give their mother a kiss. “Hurry up, Vicki!” she shouted before thundering down the stairs.
“Is she still not ready?” whined Louis from landing in the hall.
“I could have been ready ages ago if it hadn’t been for—”
“All right you two,” their father’s stern voice drifted up the stairs, effectively silencing her siblings’ argument.
Victoire smiled as she contemplated herself in the full-length mirror of her bedroom. Louis was the only one of them that had inherited their father’s trademark red hair. Victoire’s hung like her mothers, in sheets of blonde. She wore a skirt with a light blue form-fitting jumper. She opened the still unlatched lid to her trunk and extracted her robes. Just to take in the effect again, she threw them on and pinned her new prefects badge unto her chest.
Her mother stopped in the doorway, levitating a basket of clean laundry. “You look beautiful,” she exclaimed. “Your fazer and I are so proud of you!” She hugged Victoire with tears in her eyes. “Be good and write to us.”
“Of course I will,” Victoire laughed. “I have the past four years haven’t I?” Her mother patted her lovingly on the cheek and told her to put her robes back. Wordlessly, she waved her wand, clicking the lid shut and shrinking the trunk. Victoire was still amazed, after all these years of knowing her mother was a Tri-Wizard Champion and her father was a Curse Breaker who both fought side-by-side in the War, how easily magic seemed to come to them.
Chin held high, she cast one more appraising gaze in her mirror before succumbing to her siblings combined shouts and striding out of the room she wouldn’t occupy for the next few months.
“Finally,” Louis muttered, shouldering his broom case over his shoulder and yanking his trunk out the front door.
“You could have at least let Papa shrink your luggage for you while you waited,” Victoire retorted. Louis stuck his tongue out at her.
“I see you found your repair kit,” she whispered to Dominique, not wanting to provoke another row.
“Yeah, stupid prat, it was in the front closet. Dad had to summon it after Louis had dumped out half his trunk and still couldn’t find it.”
Victoire laughed and Louis turned around. “I can hear you, you know,” he grumbled before stomping off to their portkey.
Dominique huffed as she followed after him. Louis picked up the worn trainer and turned it over in his hands. “We still have a few minutes,” their father informed them as he glanced at his watch.
“What’s the matter with you?” Dominique asked harshly, glaring at their brother. Victoire was used to this unexplainable connection her twin siblings shared. Neither she nor her father seemed to think Louis was anything other than grumpy from his row with Dominique. Louis fidgeted with the portkey, shifting from foot to foot.
“Nothing,” he muttered defensively.
Dominique rolled her eyes and Victoire saw her soften. “You’ll make the team this year, Lou.” He grinned at her nervously.
Quidditch was life to Dominique. She played daily during holidays and made the team her third year as chaser. Victoire wouldn’t be surprised if she made Captain before she graduated. Louis had tried out once before and didn’t make it. Unlike his sisters, Louis was carefree and laidback. Most things came easily to Louis, he hardly ever studied, had girls following him through the halls, and he consequently never thought to practice when it came to Quidditch. Over the summer however, he had been training almost daily with Dominique, something she had encouraged him to do following his disappointment the year before.
“Besides,” offered Victoire, “Teddy’s Captain this year.”
“Teddy’ll be a great Captain. But Lou will have to earn his spot,” their father interjected. “Which I’m sure he will.” Bill ruffled his son’s hair and gestured for everyone to grab the shoe.
The salty air was whipped away as the portkey glowed blue. Victoire banged into her brother and sister as the invisible hook behind her naval yanked them closer to King Cross’s designated portkey arrival zone. Victoire’s knees buckled as they hit the ground and she thought she would have been able to right herself had Dominique not flung her hand out and gripped her arm, toppling both of them to the ground.
Victoire laughed. “S’alright. I almost had it on that one.” She looked up as two Hufflepuff sixth years flitted by, giggling and whispering behind their hands. She blushed, yanking her skirt down her legs as she scrambled to her feet.
“C’mon guys,” Bill said, offering his hand to his youngest daughter and pulling her to her feet. They walked off towards the barrier between stations nine and ten, each of them taking the wall at a run. Steam was billowing from the scarlet engine on the tracks, parents and students were rushing about, embracing and crying as they sent their loved ones off to school.
“Nicki! Lou!” Jake Thompson, a fellow Gryffindor in his fourth year called out to his classmates. Jake was one of the Gryffindor Chasers, he had made the team two years ago with Dominique, and he was currently waving one large hand above the milling crowd.
“Hey Jake!” Dominique called back. “Bye Daddy,” she said, throwing her arms hurriedly around her father. Louis followed suit and then both rushed off to find their friends and an empty compartment.
Bill chuckled as his children ran off through the crowds. “Have a good term, Vicki.” He pulled her into his embrace.
“And keep an eye on your brother and sister,” her father continued, pulling away from her to look her in the eye. “Don’t let Nicki get too carried away with Quidditch—”
Victoire rolled her eyes.
“And make sure Louis actually goes to class this year.”
“I’ll do my best, Dad,” Victoire grinned. “See you at Christmas.”
Her father smiled at her. “Bye Vicki, have a good term.”
Victoire dashed off to board the train, looking for a compartment to stash her trunk before making her way to the prefect’s carriage. She found her friend Katie Fitzgerald without struggling too much through the crowded corridors.
Katie was propped in the corner of the compartment, her Defense Against the Dark Arts book already open and well past chapter one from what Victoire could see.
“Couldn’t wait till we got there?” Victoire teased, extracting her trunk, enlarging it, and pulling out her robes.
“Ha ha,” Katie returned dryly, looking up and smiling before fixing her eyes on the badge pinned to Victoire’s robes. “Like you haven’t started it yet, Little Miss Prefect.”
“It’s good to see you, Katie,” Victoire laughed as she swept her friend into a hug. “How was the rest of your holiday?”
“Not bad, Mum and Dad took me snowboarding—”
“Wait, what?” Victoire interrupted, setting her robes on the seats across her and turning to look curiously at her Muggleborn friend. “Snow hoarding?”
Katie laughed. “It’s like skiing, you strap a board to your feet and hurtle down a snow covered mountain. It’s quite exciting really.”
Victoire chuckled. This is why she loved her friend, her quiet, shy, book-loving friend who shocked her whenever she talked about the bizarre Muggle sports she participated in while on holiday. Though, snow hoarding didn’t sound quite as bad as the rugby she described last holiday.
“Better steam those before your meeting,” Katie said, pointing to Victoire’s wrinkled robes. Victoire hummed before training her wand on her robes.
“When do you have to be there?” Katie asked, settling back down with her book.
“Soon as the train starts moving,” Victoire replied vaguely, glancing into the corridor. Ryan Holcombe and Jordan Weller were coming down the isle; both were Gryffindors in the year above Victoire and Katie. Victoire began unconsciously smoothing her hair.
“Why bother? It’s always straight,” Katie said without tearing her eyes from her book. Victoire could hear the smirk in her voice.
“Oh shut up!” she tossed her hair as the boys approached their carriage, smiling at her as they passed. The train jolted into movement.
“He fancies you, you know,” Katie said, glancing up from her book suddenly and nodding toward the empty corridor where Jordan had just been.
Victoire caught her bottom lip in her teeth. “Yeah, I know,” she murmured, leaning back against the armrest of her seat and tucking her feet underneath her.
“You should go for—”
Katie was interrupted as the door to their compartment banged open revealing a tall seventh-year with turquoise-colored hair wearing Gryffindor robes, a shiny prefect badge pinned by the shoulder.
“Eugh! Ted Lupin I hate it when you call me that!” Victoire grinned, swatting at his leg playfully.
“Hey Katie,” Ted called, prodding Victoire’s feet off the seat with the tip of his shoe. “Sorry to run, but we’ve got to go.”
Katie smiled in greeting and then waved them off. Victoire stood while rolling her eyes at Ted’s exuberance; he ignored her, grabbed her hand, and pulled her into the corridor.
“We’re not that late!” She shook his hand free and stopped to check her hair in the train’s reflecting windows just to tease him.
“I know, I promised Alex I wouldn’t be late. He’s Head Boy and nervous as hell.”
“Hmm,” Victoire toyed with a random lock of hair, glancing at Teddy’s reflection in the window. He had turned and mimicked glaring at her.
“So that’s how you want to do this?” Ted smirked, grinning at her wolfishly.
“What?” Victoire smiled. “Oh I’m so sorry, I forgot you were in a hurry Teddy Bear.”
“Oh that does it!”
Victoire shrieked. Teddy had bent and grabbed her at the knees, throwing her over his back and gripping her kicking feet to his chest.
“This works better,” he said as he continued to make his way down the hall.
“Teddy Lupin you let me down this instant!”
“It’s your own fault you know. I hate being called that, Vic,” Teddy stressed her dreaded nickname and chuckled when Victoire pounded on his back.
Heads were peeking out of the compartments to size up the commotion and all immediately began laughing.
“Okay, funny, very funny Ted,” Victoire pleaded weakly, hearing Jordan and Ryan laughing not far ahead. She buried her face in the back of his robes, feeling flushed and not just from being flipped upside down.
“Way to go Ted!” Louis shouted, leaning against the compartment doorframe. Dominique was doubled over on her seat, tears of laughter streaming down her face. “We should have down that this morning, eh Nicki?”
Dominique couldn’t even choke out a response, she was laughing so hard.
“All right, Louis?” Ted stopped to shake Louis’s hand.
“I see we have time to stop and chat with these two,” Victoire spat out, aiming punches again at Ted’s lower back and renewing her efforts to kick him. He ignored her completely.
“Louis Weasley! Help me down right now!” Victoire screeched.
“I’ll… I’ll h-hex him if he does!” Dominique sputtered between laughs.
“Cheers Nicki!” Ted exclaimed before taking off back down the hall. Victoire renewed her efforts at punching and kicking him before screaming, “Ted Remus Lupin this is not funny!”
“Oh stop!” Ted returned cheerily, smacking Victoire on her bottom. “You’re making a scene.”
“I’m… I’m making a…” Victoire stammered. “You just smacked my bum!”
“You’re acting like a brat,” Ted retorted smoothly.
“I’m writing your grandmother,” Victoire mumbled, resting her elbows on his back and placing her chin in her hands. Ted gasped in mock horror.
“Here we are,” he announced in a singsong voice several embarrassing moments later, bending over to deposit Victoire on her feet. “The prefect carriage, my lady.”
“I sometimes hate being friends with you,” Victoire grumbled.
“Aw, Victoire, don’t say that,” Ted laughed. Victoire stuck her tongue out at him and entered the compartment, shaking her head as she bit back a grin.
- Current Location:Home
- Current Mood:content
- Current Music:Classical