a/n This is my attempt at a next generation fic. I am largely more familiar with the Marauder era so please, bear with me and offer guidance in any reviews. This story will mainly be centered around Victoire Weasley. The genre/s of this story will fall somewhere in the romance/drama/humor/angst categories. Those could change later on.

I'm taking a few creative liberties with this story, regarding the characters' ages and years in school. Victoire and Teddy are in their seventh year of Hogwarts, Lorcan and Lysander Scamander are in their third year with Lily Luna Potter and Hugo Weasley, and Fred Weasley II will be in the grade under Victoire along with James Potter II. Molly and Lucy(Percy's kids) are twins in Victoire's year. Scorpius Malfoy is in his fifth year, along with Rose Weasley and Albus Potter. Looking back, I realize that there are more than a few creative liberties being taken. That's what fits best with this plot line however and if any of this bothers you, than you are by no means being forced to read this story.

Also, before we start, I want to address the issue of the characters' houses. The sorting hat hints that the house you are sorted into is often influenced by your parents' own sorting, but that this is not always the case(example being Sirius Black- from a long line of Slytherins, sorted into Gryffindor). Since JKR in her epilogue doesn't really specify who is in what house, I have taken yet a few more creative liberties. The list is as stands:

Gryffindor: Victoire Weasley, Teddy Lupin, Fred Weasley II, James Potter II, Molly and Lucy Weasley, and Rose Weasley.

Ravenclaw: Lorcan Scamander and Lily Luna Potter

Hufflepuff: Lysander Scamander and Hugo Weasley

Slytherin: Scorpius Malfoy and Albus Potter

A few other characters that may be mentioned, if only briefly, in the fanfiction are: Roxanne Weasley(Fred's younger sister and fellow Gryffindor), Dominique and Louis Weasley(Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff respectively; Victoire's younger siblings), and children from the Finnigan, Longbottom, Thomas and various other wizarding families.

The Fame Monster

All the world's a stage

-Shakespeare

I'd always wanted to be famous.

And now it was happening.

Camera's flashed and the deafening roar of my name created an overwhelming din of noise. I twirled around and flashed my magically whitened teeth in the direction of reporters and fans alike. My strawberry blond hair was swept into an elegant knot that complimented my lilac dress robes.

I'd always wanted to be famous.

With lips painted cherry red, I blew a kiss to the fervent admirers. My right hand waved charmingly at the audience as my left hand discreetly checked my wand in its hidden compartment sewn into the lavender ensemble. I'd learned my lesson after the last 'adoring fan' cast a rather wicked hex on opening night of The Dragon and his Wizard in Dublin.

I tossed out a few more plastic smiles and beauty pageant waves. Being careful to take only small, graceful steps, I took my departure from the soon-to-be audience. The stage would not be kept waiting.

I'd always wanted to be famous.

Ever since I was small girl, it had been my dream. The adoring fans, the expensive clothes, everyone in the wizarding world knowing your name. But most importantly, the thrill. The thrill of performing in front of thousands of people, on a stage almost as big as the arena for the quidditch world cup.

When I was five, I would dress in my mama's dress robes and sloppily apply her make-up. She would laugh and clap as I sang into a hairbrush and acted out homemade plays. She would snap pictures on our wizarding camera. Then she would pick me up and spin me around and we would laugh laugh laugh until we cried.

All of that seems a million miles away as I have my make-up and hair flawlessly done by professionals. I no longer wear my mama's clothes but instead have my own elaborate set of costumes and robes. The lights are dim backstage and there are no cameras permitted. I can feel the impatience of the audience reverberating across the floor, their cries pounding through solid walls to reach my ears.

There are last minute checks of my nails, hair, and make-up. Then I am helped into the elegant dress, colored deep scarlet and gold with lace accents. It weighs twenty five pounds in all. I slip into my shoes as easily as I slip into character.

I am playing the lead tonight, as always it seems, in our new production Lady Gryffindor. I wait in the wings as I listen for my cue.

I sweep across the stage elegantly at the appropriate time. The lights are blinding but I have long since become accustomed to adjusting my eyes. My words flow effortlessly and with graceful ease. I fall into the part of Lady Gryffindor as if I were her, as if I had lived her story. I am aristocratic and noble, opulent and magnificent. I am everything I'm supposed to be. Everything but myself. But I think that's what I enjoy most about acting. For one night, you aren't supposed to be yourself. You forget everything but your character and their life.

I laugh, cry, and break hearts as I sashay my way across the stage. Acting itself is facile, it is the art of becoming a character so realistically that everyone forgets it is actually you that is truly arduous.

I'd always wanted to be famous.

As I take my final bow, grasping hands with my fellow actors and actresses, I scan the crowd hopefully. I look for a familiar face. My heart clenches and then breaks painfully when my search is ended fruitlessly. I gaze out over the crowd once more, wishing to see their faces, her face. Teddy's face. But I recognize no one. I feel as if my heart has just been stamped on and the pieces scattered, the blood as scarlet as my dress.

I'd always wanted to be famous.

Now I was.

But I could never have guessed at what price.