Please note I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters in this fanfiction.
Chapter One
A loud banging eventually woke me.
"Victoire, Get up!" my mother, Fleur shouted, her strong French accent lacing her words. From her tone I guess she'd been out there a while trying to wake me. I rolled over to check the time from the clock on the bedside table. It read 7:36am. I groan who the hell gets up at this time anyway. I roll back over and try to ignore my mother's banging. However it continues. Eventually I give up and stumble towards the door and open it to reveal my mother.
"I've been trying to wake you up for 10 minutes! Now I want you to get ready immediately we are leaving in one and a half hours. We are not being late like last year", at that I watch my mother's retreating figure disappear down the hallway. When she wanted to be she could be very stubborn and determined. I slowly try to remember what actually happening today, because in my current state I've got no idea. Once she's out of sight I slam the door closed with the intention to go back to bed. As I lie there my brain eventually remembers.
"Crap" I say aloud. Today was the day we returned to Hogwarts. My eyes soon zoned in on the multiple trunks beside my door. Packed and ready to go.
"Yay" I say to myself sarcastically.
After weeks of hanging out with Teddy on the beach near our house and enjoying the bliss of summer it was all going to end, and horribly soon. Not only that but my cousins Rose and Albus would also be staring their first year at Hogwarts. Great, more family at Hogwarts. Sometimes I swear half the wizarding world is related to me. However this year was my last year at Hogwarts and was determined to make it my best yet. This year I was head girl, which meant I was entitled to special privileges. I could feel my mouth begin to smile at that thought. Head Girl, the position I had always wanted since I was five and I finally got it.
Suddenly my bedroom door swung open to reveal my mother, and god did she look pissed.
"Je veux que vous obtenez jusqu'à cet instant et préparez-vous, OK. Si je devais venir ici une fois de plus il y aura hell to pay "said my mother in an eerily calm voice. Yeah she was pissed, threating at me in French she meant business. At this I decide to roll out of bed and nod in her direction while running my fingers through my hair. At this she seems satisfied and retreat down stairs.
When I get into the shower I allow the steaming hot water to over my body for what seems like hours while I wonder what my year ahead will bring. Eventually when the hot water runs out I quickly turn the water off and dry off. Once changed into a satin crème dress shirt and a short high waisted tweed chocolate brown skirt and return to the bathroom to deal with my hair. After I deem myself acceptable I double check my appearance in the mirror. A slim girl with ivory skin and bright blue eye stares back me; her long blonde hair reached halfway down her back and was slightly messy. I knew many saw me as 'classically' pretty but I however could always pick faults in my overall appearance. In my opinion being six foot tall and a UK size 6 wasn't all it was cracked up to be. For one you were usually tallest and skinniest girl anywhere you went and most people usually gawk at you behind your back (including family members). People also always make jokes about whether you were anorexic or bulimic. However to the rest of the world my metabolism and height were seen as a god send.
After an hour of getting ready (to my satisfaction) I decide to go downstairs for breakfast. At the breakfast table sat the rest of my family; my father and mother (Bill and Fleur) sat chatting quietly to each other. My younger Louis who was going into fourth year was swallowing multiple pieces of toast as if he hasn't eaten in days. Then there was Dominque. And oh my god what the hell was she wearing! From what I could see all Dominque was wearing was a tight leopard print midriff with torn demin shorts accompanied with thigh high boots. Her face was also plastered with heavy make-up and her strawberry blonde hair was in a sloppy bun. God, could that girl look more like a tart? Personally I didn't think possible. Occasionally I saw Dad glance in her direction but quickly look away as if he was embarrassed of looking at his fifteen year old daughter.
"Good morning everybody" I say as I take my seat at the breakfast table. Everybody mumbles some form of response, seems like nobody in our family is too friendly in the morning. I sigh and roll my eyes; and turn my attention to Dominque
"You aren't seriously wearing that are you?" I say to her in the bitchest tone I can manage. Her head snaps up and she glares at me with her wide brown eyes.
"What are you implying Vicky?" she sneers. God she just had to call me Vicky didn't she, now it's on.
"Well I was trying to put it subtly but I think you look like a tramp" I say innocently knowing exactly how much this has provoked her.
"Ha ha" she replied a small cold smile beginning to appear "Well at least I know I'm a tart. And speaking of which when are telling Mum and Dad that you've been sleeping around with…" And at that point Dad decided to interrupt our little not so private conversation.
"Okay girls, Vic I feel voiced your opinion on Dom's appearance enough for today". And that was officially the end of that conversation. However Dominque knew she struck a nerve and smiled proudly in my direction. My only question was how the hell did she know about that! At the moment I had no idea but my main priority was that my parents never ever found out.
I glanced over at Mum. I could tell by the look on her face that she also disapproved of Dominque's current state, but instead of starting a family argument she started a conversation of a more civil nature.
"Victoire, we're both very proud that you made Head Girl this year". I smiled back politely. Her pride was evident on her face as it was too on my father's. If only they knew how close I came to not getting this position. Let's just say while my parents had no idea about many detentions for drinking on school grounds and "inappropriate behaviour", however Headmistress McGonagall knew. Somehow I knew I predominately got the position for my flawless grades and popularity.
"Yes well done Vic" Dom answered sarcastically.
"Well, I see you didn't get Gryffindor prefect. What happened? I was able to get it" I answer back. She answered with a scowl. Not getting the prefect position was a soft spot for her. Both my parents and I had been prefects and she was under a lot of pressure to do the same. However her application was rejected. In some ways Dom was a lot like myself. However I was able to ensure my parents were oblivious to my sneaking out and constant partying while Dom always got caught. This one was reason for our strained relationship.
Suddenly my mother jumps up.
"Oh my, we have to get going or we'll be late. Okay everybody get their luggage and we'll leave in ten minutes". At this I groan silently. It's going to take me more than ten minutes to get three large suitcases down two flights of stairs.