Chapter One: I dare you!
Toren Weasley and his twin, Victoire, sat beneath a weeping willow on the shore of the lake. Their previous lesson had taken its toll on the pair of them. Discussing the Battle for Hogwarts was always a painful topic for the Weasley children, as well as many of their friends. Like them they had been brought up in the era just after the Great War.
It was the war to end all wars; Toren could only shake his head. It made him laugh—once in a muggle book that his Uncle Harry had shown him about World War One had said something similar. That it would all be over by Christmas. Occasionally at that time of year both Uncle Ron and Harry would disappear, shutting themselves into the study at the Potter's Grimauld Place. In there they would occupy themselves for hours with half a dozen bottles of Firewhisky.
And it was not until his Aunt Hermione dared to burst into the room, ordering them sternly like his grandmother, "Ronald Billius Weasley! Harry James Potter! It is time you went to bed."
Quietly, he chuckled to himself as he thought about it. Turning his attention back to his sister, who was deeply engrossed in a book; wanting to humour her, he asked, "What you reading? How to catch a wizard?"
"No actually," she did not rise to the challenge like he had so desperately hoped she would. Anything to lighten the sombre mood to what had just happened! One by one they had filed out of the classroom like zombies, each drawn into their own thoughts on today's subject in Defence Against the Dark Arts. Licking her finger, she violently flicked over the page revealing what she had been starring at.
The end of year dance.
To him it was nothing but to her it was evidently everything that she could possibly want. The prom influence she was taking to was like a drug, her life so dependent on material possessions. Shallowly, he snapped at her, "Do you always have to be so conceited?"
"No, I just think that you should start to think about who you are going to take. After all it is the social event of our lives, it is where we make or break ourselves," she seemed to have rehearsed this by heart.
"I unlike you have not had this planned for months…" he sniggered at her naivety. Ruffling his wild flaming hair, he grinned at his short lived victory.
"Alright," Victoire threw down her cope of Witch Weekly, "I bet that you cannot get…"
For a few moments her voice faded into silence, contemplating some dark scheme of hers. Suddenly, her grey eyes fell on a girl with bright yellow hair, sat alone buried deep in a book with her broom beside her. The girl's head hung low, whether she was actually reading or contemplating was not utterly clear.
"Take Ava Malfoy to the dance," her eyes shot back to her brother.
His sister dared him to take out his enemy—that was what she was. Ava Malfoy was his rival in everything. She was a talented witch. She was head of the Slytherin Quidditch team. Head Girl. Prefect. She was perfect, yet somewhat sad. Outside her house she was no one but the daughter of Draco Malfoy, the granddaughter of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. Why on earth would he ask her out?
"I dare you," she grinned at the awkwardness. There was no love lost between the two of them. Ava was everything that she was not and she despised her for it. Any opportunity to belittle her she would or embarrass her. Bitterly, she twisted her lips into a broader grin, "I dare you because you want to."
Toren's eyes followed to where his sister had been; she was slumped over. He doubted that she was really reading the book that rested neatly in her lap. Now aimlessly staring into the deep water, Ava Malfoy was lost in her own thoughts. Angrily, he did want to take her but not for the reasons that Victoire wanted.
"Ok, I'll take her," he rolled his eyes relenting. Ava was not his most favourite person in the world but neither was she the one he hated the most.
Ava stood up boldly, "I think you should indefinitely get started."
"I will do," he scorned her; "I will start when I please, sister."
Pleased with her actions the part veela sauntered away. Annoyed that she had talked him into doing something that he neither wanted to do nor was interested in doing; lightly she danced around the water easily catching the attention of the boys who were near the main entrance. Letting himself become engrossed by the stillness of the spring air, he grinned to himself.
It was going to be an interesting new term.