The night was deep and dark. Little Victoire was curled up in sleep, and visions passed through her mind, one after the other. But there was one that stuck more prominently than the others. She was in a destroyed corridor, rubble everywhere. Flashing lights came at her from all around, and Victoire was scared. The frightened child searched desperately for her parents, but she could not find them. Ahh, there they were! 'Maman! Papa!' she cried out in her head, but they seemed not to hear her. They were both holding each other and crying, standing in a huddle of more crying adults. She thought she recognized most of them. It took a while to see that they were standing around another man. He appeared to be dead, but then he sat up and stared straight at her. 'Victoire, I am your ancestor. You are the victory,' he said.
And then she woke. Frightened, she sat straight up, and clutched the blankets around her. The memory of the dream soon faded when she remembered that today was her birthday, and she was now four.
May came early that year. The warm weather had been drifting lazily around Shell Cottage since mid-April. The spray of the sea was still bitingly cold, but the sun shone down on the white sandy shores and brightened up the world after the bleak winter. This was all very good for one Victoire Weasley. It meant her birthday would soon be here.
It was nearly midnight, and Victoire lay awake listening to the sounds of the ocean lapping against the shore. She could hardly sleep, for the excitement was too great. In the morning it would be her birthday, and she would be seven. For most young magical children, this was a frightening age, because the rest of your life depended upon whether or not you approached this birthday having already shown signs of magic. This was no worry for the young daughter of Bill and Fleur Weasley, as she had been having magical outbursts for almost two years now.
There were footsteps in the hallway, and Victoire heard the light click on. Just like a horror film, the door to Victoire's bedroom was notoriously creaky. Fleur smiled at her daughter as she entered the bedroom and tiptoed over to the bed. She sat down, smoothing her daughter's pillows.
"Ma petite, why are you still awake?" she whispered. Fleur did not look angry, but merely amused.
"I cannot fall asleep, maman. I am too excited. Tomorrow is practically here!" squealed Victoire under her breath. She didn't want to wake her father, or her little sister, Dominique, in the next room.
"And what day is that?" Fleur teased.
"Mais oui, c'est mon anniversaire!" said Victoire exasperatedly, swatting her mother playfully. They both giggled.
The next day, at birthday tea, Victoire was given the finest present she would ever own. Bill and Fleur led her down to the paddock near Shell Cottage, and shrill whinnies rent the air as Victoire first clapped eyes on her horse. He was a strapping Aethonan gelding, tall, and wings wide as a Hippogriff's. With his gleaming chestnut coat, Victoire dutifully dubbed him, what else, Rouge.
"Happy birthday, Victoire," chorused her family as the girl blew out the nine candles on the tremendous birthday cake her Gran had made for her. She smiled, happy that all her family was here at her house to celebrate another year. There were her parents, and her little sister, Dominique. Fleur held a squirming Louis in her arms. Her grandparents were there, as was her Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny, with their small sons James and Al. Next to the Potters were Aunt Audrey and Uncle Percy, with her cousins Molly and Lucy, and Uncle George and Aunt Angelina and Cousin Fred. Finally, sitting happily together, were her Uncle Ron, Aunt Hermione, and Uncle Charlie. Unfortunately, the Delacours had been unable to make it from France this year.
Beyond her family were two people. An elderly lady sat with one hand on the shoulder of a young boy, who was maybe eleven or twelve. His hair was shockingly purple. Victoire didn't know why, but she felt a little flutter in her stomach when she saw him, and when his piercing eyes came to rest on hers, she looked away hurriedly, blushing as red as her family's hair.
While everyone was tucking into the glorious cake made by Molly, Victoire wandered over to where her Uncle Harry was laughing and joking with Uncle Ron.
"My, my, just look at how big you're getting! Nine's a big year," said Harry happily, ruffling Victoire's pale hair. She smiled sweetly up at him.
"Nine is a big year. It's the year, if you're going to Beauxbatons," Ron mused. But Victoire scowled.
"What's the matter?" asked Ron, amused by her expression.
"Dad says he doesn't know if I should go to school this year. He says it's because Beauxbatons is so far away, but I think it's just because he isn't ready for me to leave home yet," Victoire replied. Harry placed one arm around her, and told her it was all for the best, and her old dad usually knew best. Victoire acceded, because she knew she was right and that her uncles would not quit trying to persuade her otherwise.
"Where's Teddy been for so long? I haven't seen him since Easter," mused Victoire, trying to sound casual.
"Well, he's been away at school all year, Hogwarts. Really likes it, I suppose. He came home for your birthday, mind," Harry told her, a smile playing around his lips, but concealing it as best he could from his niece.
Victoire would have never admitted it to anyone else, but in that moment she decided that if that's where people like Teddy went, she might have better luck fitting in at Hogwarts.
A/N:Okay, real story starting soon, I promise! Just wanted to set the stage some more. And I'm also devoid of good ideas today cause I just finished up finals, haha.