Prologue
Alone in her room, Victoire gazed into the mirror. She had the silvery-blonde hair and the blue eyes of her mother, that one-eighth Veela already making her a little bit more beautiful than the other girls her age. If you looked at her, you would not know that there was a single drop of Weasley blood in her veins.
But there was.
Despite appearances, despite everything, Victoire was very much her father's daughter. She had his sense of humor, his laugh, and his taste for adventure. And yet, she was also had her mother's beauty, pride, and determination. She was a blend of both parents, a perfect mix.
It was her eleventh birthday. Eleven was an important birthday in the Wizarding world: the day you were accepted into a Wizarding school. For most people, the decision was easy. Most people only found one owl perched on their window.
But Victoire had found two.
One was small and golden-feathered, the other, large and tawny. One from Beaxbatons, the other from Hogwarts.
It was for that reason that Victoire was dreading going downstairs. Her parents were clearly letting her sleep in for her birthday, but she was always up with the sun.
She knew what choice her mother would want her to make, and she knew that her father would not care. And yet, she didn't want to go with the obvious choice.
She stood up, took a deep breath, and headed downstairs.
"Good morning, sunshine!" exclaimed her father, picking her up and spinning her around in a circle. She couldn't help but laugh, but the moment he set her down, she was serious once again.
Her mother floated forward and kissed her on the forehead. "Good morning, chèri."
"Good morning, Mama, Papa," she said, smiling at them determinedly. They would not influence her decision—she would not let them. "I have two letters this morning."
She noticed that her mother's smile grew slightly tight.
"That's great, Vivi," said Papa. When Victoire's younger sister, Adelaide, was learning to speak, she hadn't been able to say 'Victoire' and her substitute, Vivi, had stuck. "Have you decided where you want to go?"
Victoire took a deep breath. "I want to go to Hogwarts."
"Victoire," said her mother, stepping forward. "I—
Victoire shook her head. "No, Mama. I have made up my mind. I will go to Hogwarts. Please don't fight with me."
Fleur sighed, shaking her head. "Vairy well, chèri," she said, biting her lip. Victoire hated to see her looking disappointed, but it was not her mother's choice.
Her father kissed her on the forehead. "Your uncles will be very happy, Vivi," he said. "Come on now, and get your birthday present."
Relieved that there had been no drama or fireworks from her mother, Victoire took his hand and off to receive her birthday present, an owl.
She had no way of knowing that the choice she had made a few moments earlier would change the course of her life forever.
