Chapter:6 The Eleventh Birthday Party

Not long after she departed from the reservoir, the thestral carriage started to descend. Soon, the impact of hooves touching down on the marble steps rattled through the vehicle. The thestrals kept on walking for a while longer and then came to a standstill.

She stepped out of the carriage and laid her eyes upon the mansion after several months. Honestly, the sight kinda startled her.

Victoire stepped into the grand foyer of her family mansion, her heart soaring with joy and her face twitching in annoyance. The Lefevre estate had been transformed into a circus, in her humble opinion, and into a spectacle of magical wonder in the opinion of anyone who has a fancy taste.

Every corner of the fukin mansion was adorned with vibrant decorations, twinkling lights, and colorful streamers that swirled and danced in the air. The walls were embellished with cascading garlands made of delicate flowers and leaves, their colors mimicking a beautiful sunrise. Enchanted candles floated gracefully, their flames shimmering in hues of gold and silver. Truly a circus.

Cursing violently in her mind, Victoire made her way into the mansion.

Her father, Hector Lefevre, stood at the center of the foyer, his eyes alight with warmth and love as he welcomed her. He had spent a great deal of planning and pain to make sure his lovely daughter was happy on her 'big day'.

To do so, he didn't even hesitate to call in some favors. Not like anyone could deny him or anything, he was, after all, the head of Aurors of the French Ministry of Magic. 

"Happy birthday, my lovely little daughter,"

He exclaimed, sweeping her up into a warm embrace.

"Thank you, Father,"

Victoire replied, her eyes twitching in annoyance and yet sparkling with delight. No matter how annoyed she may have felt at the embarrassingly flamboyant setup, she still couldn't bring herself to say it out loud. This was the first time someone had actively prepared for her birthday, an event that was long since forgotten in her past life.

Hector led her through the beautifully decorated mansion, showcasing the efforts put into the birthday preparations. The ballroom had transformed into a vision of elegance and magic. Enormous crystal chandeliers dangled from the ceiling, casting a soft, enchanting glow on the gathering below.

Tables were adorned with floral centerpieces, magical candles, and an array of delectable treats. He had specially ordered colorful macarons, chocolate frogs, and bowls filled with Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, especially from England, to add a playful touch to the elegant setup.

The Lefevre family had also invited their dear friends, the Delacours, a fellow pure-blood family that held close ties with the Veelas. The Delacours were known for their beauty and grace, and their presence added to the air of excitement. They were, after all, a family that had a Veela married into, although that was several generations ago.

The clock ticked on and slowly, the guests began to arrive, and the mansion buzzed with the laughter and chatter of friends and family. The children were particularly thrilled, their faces painted with expressions of wonder as they explored the magical displays and treats.

Victoire, accompanied by her father, greeted each guest warmly. Her eyes lit up when she saw Fleur Delacour, she didn't see her as someone from the 'canon' but as her close friend during her time at Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. Fleur's younger sister, Gabrielle, was also present, and the two girls shared an enthusiastic embrace. Their parents converse heartily with Hector. They held close ties to the auror department and thought of this opportunity as a way to strengthen their relationship with the Ministry. 

As the day unfolded, the celebration shifted into full swing. The ballroom was transformed into a dance floor, and lively music filled the air. The guests swayed and twirled, their laughter and joy creating an atmosphere of pure happiness.

Victoire was quite annoyed at all the noise and bustling, don't get her wrong, the festivities were a beautiful blend of magic, but she still preferred a quiet dinner over this mumbo jumbo for a birthday. It was a day she would hold in her heart forever, a reminder of how it would have been better to come out plain with her parents rather than simply shy away from them due to a sudden jerk. Who knows? maybe that would have spared her from the embarrassment to come.

As the sun set and the evening wore on, the mansion somehow seemed to have come alive with its enchanting displays of magic. Fireworks lit up the night sky, painting it with bursts of vibrant colors and dazzling patterns. It was a mesmerizing spectacle that left everyone in awe.

Amid the celebration, Victoire took a moment to reflect. She had come a long way—from her days as a bartender to now, embraced by her magical heritage and surrounded by either beauties capable of making her nose bleed into a hose, or a bunch of snot-nosed kids who greeted her and ran off to stuff their faces with sweets. Her journey was just beginning, and she was not looking forward to what they may have planned for the next year.

Except for the magic that awaited her, she was looking forward to that.

The grand ballroom was alive with the hustle and bustle of the birthday celebration. Victoire's fake laughter mingled with the cheerful chatter of the guests as they mingled and enjoyed the festivities. The air was filled with the delightful aroma of magical treats, enticing the taste buds of all who attended.

Victoire's eyes were aglow with excitement, or so the guests thought, but in reality, they were smoldering in anger at a girl who had the audacity to throw a cupcake at her face. She twirled in her elegant dress, the layers of fabric swirling around her. Her father, a picture of grace and elegance, joined her on the dance floor. They moved in harmony, a father-daughter dance that spoke of love and the joy of this special day. But in truth, she was fuming with anger, her dad had snatched her up when she was attempting to sneak out to party.

Hector watched with pride, his heart filled with love for his daughter. He had spared no expense to make this day magical for her. The Lefevre estate had been transformed into a wonderland of enchantment. Every detail had been meticulously planned to ensure that Victoire's eleventh birthday was a memory she would cherish forever.

The ballroom was a vision of opulence and magic. The ceiling was adorned with shimmering stars that twinkled like the night sky. Enchanted fairy lights floated around, adding a magical ambiance. The walls were draped in cascading silks, their colors shifting and changing in an ethereal dance.

Tables were set with fine china and elegant cutlery, and an array of delicious treats filled the room. Towering cakes with intricate designs, pastries that seemed to dance, and a myriad of candies in various shapes and colors adorned the dessert table.

Victoire's friends, or rather 'friend', Fleur, and her family reveled in the festivities. The children, their faces painted with excitement, marveled at the magic that unfolded around them.

The highlight of the celebration was a performance by a group of Veelas. Their dance was a breathtaking display of grace and beauty, their movements echoing the fluidity of a flowing river. The guests watched in awe as the Veelas enchanted the room with their ethereal performance.

It was a successful attempt at showcasing the grandeur of their family, well... if by successful one meant that several men were being hauled back by their companions. The Veela's charm had affected several of them and they were trying to jump into the dancer's fray which would have resulted in them being burnt to crisps.

Yep, she knew something was wrong when that goofy Veela Hesty and her gang had given her those creepy smiles and said 'see you soon' instead of 'Goodbye'. She knew they were planning something stupid. 

Later, Victoire was led to a grand stage, where she was serenaded by a live orchestra. The music was an enchanting symphony, and Victoire was forced to dance on her own by a cheering crowd and her bumbling father.

Amidst the celebration, she found a quiet moment to step outside onto a terrace adorned with twinkling fairy lights. The night sky was a canvas of stars, and a gentle breeze carried the scent of blooming flowers. She took a deep breath, feeling the magic of the night wrap around her like a warm embrace.

Her thoughts drifted to her journey so far, from the bustling life of a bartender to the magical world she now inhabited. It was a testament to the resilience of the human spirit and the wonders that awaited those who believed in magic.

As the clock struck midnight, marking the end of her magical birthday, Victoire stood at the heart of the celebration. The guests gathered around her, showering her with gifts and well-wishes. Her heart would have swelled with gratitude if hadn't been already filled with shame and indignation.

Another thing she didn't like was that nearly ninety percent of her gifts were skirts or other frilly dresses instead of things like books or potions. Heck, she had enough supply that if she wore a new dress every day, then she would be wearing a new dress till her next birthday.

The celebration gradually wound down, and the guests bid their farewells. The mansion, once alive with the echoes of laughter and music, quieted down, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight.

Victoire stood by the window, gazing out at the peaceful night. It had been a day beyond her dreams, a day that would forever be etched in her heart. A day of immeasurable shame for the mighty Legendary Witch Victoire, she could already feel the shame she might feel when it happens.

The morning after the vibrant birthday celebration, Victoire awoke with a sense of nostalgia. The echoes of laughter, the sparkle of fairy lights, and the graceful Veela dance were still fresh in her mind. However, she couldn't shake off the feeling that something was amiss. The extravaganza had been awe-inspiring, but it wasn't what she had truly desired. of course not, she had wanted a quiet, peaceful dinner night with her parents and possibly a friend or two. 

She walked around the room and when she didn't find anything amiss, she glanced out of the window. From there, she could see her father bid Hesty and her gang farewell.

Now Hesty wasn't a bad person per se, she was simply amorous. Almost all of the Veelas were amorous, during her time at the reservoir she had seen dozens of them bring home a girl. Yes, a girl/woman, not a man. Years of living in the presence of beautiful women hadn't done much for their sexual preferences. Also, they never stuck to one partner, they usually switched every few weeks.

Marriage, however, was an entirely different matter. While lustful, they were still quite loyal to their partner. Once married, they wouldn't cheat or betray their partner ever in their life. That is, until their partners broke the vow first, then the Veela's would most likely kill their partner and fly back to their tribe.

She sat in her room, lost in thought, the soft morning light seeping through the window. She longed for a quiet day, a moment of tranquility amidst the magical chaos that often surrounded her. A simple celebration with her father, a peaceful escape from the bustling world of magic, was what her heart truly craved.

Sighed loudly, she changed from her night clothes into the usual skirt. She walked down the hallway and into the dining room where her father was having his tea and reading the newspaper "Le Magique Quotidien"(The Magical Daily). 

Hector, sensing his daughter's mood, knew that he had messed up big time. Victoire's face was quite dark and gloomy after the party, he knew that she never liked parties or crowded places, and yet she had to attend several parties due to their family's social standing.

Their family had a standard to maintain, they managed the Auror Department of the French Ministry of Magic, the Veela liaison, the Muggle liaison, and a vast territory that consisted of two dragon farms in Romana, Dozens of shops across the world, several herb gardens, multiple mineral mines, and a unique collection of reservoirs. This vast wealth came with the heavy responsibility of maintaining diverse connections with magical families throughout the world. 

But, this was his daughter's eleventh birthday, after this he won't see much of her till she is eighteen. As a teenager, he was sure that his daughter would find a lover and spend her time with that person instead of dear old 'Papa'. The very thought seems to ignite a burning desire to kill in his heart.

But, maybe he could do something to make amends for the grand celebration. He knew he had majorly misunderstood her true desires, but what would be the perfect way to amend this wrong?

Suddenly, a brilliant idea came to him. A while back he had helped an American Auror with a sticky situation and had received an invite to his estate for a vacation.

What was the name of the estate again?

Oh yes,

Trigony Estate, Mystic Hollow, New England. 

Maybe he can arrange for a week-long trip there. Mystic Hollow was also known as one of the world's largest and most diverse gatherings of witches and wizards from all over the world. 

That evening, during dinner, the aroma of a delicious feast filled the air. The dining table was adorned with an array of savory dishes and delightful desserts. Victoire sat at the table, lost in her thoughts, her mind wandering to the events of the previous day. 

Hector cleared his throat, garnering her attention.

"Victoire, my dear, there's something I'd like to discuss with you,"

He began softly, his eyes filled with warmth and sincerity. She looked up, her curiosity piqued.

"Of course, Father. What is it?"

He took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully.

"I couldn't help but sense your true feelings during the celebration. I know you had wished for a quieter, more intimate celebration."

Victoire blinked in surprise, touched by her father's perceptiveness. She smiled gently, appreciating his understanding.

"Yes, that's true. But it's alright, Father. The celebration was beautiful, and I'm grateful for it."

After all, she couldn't straight up say that the party was quite shitty and that she simply wanted to run off to her room and hide below the covers.

Hector nodded, acknowledging her sentiment or so he thought.

"Your contentment is what matters most to me. That's why, in light of this misunderstanding, I've planned something special for us."

Curiosity danced in Victoire's eyes, what the hell does this guy plan to do now, she waited for him to continue.

"We're going on a trip to Mystic Hollow, New England,"

Hector revealed, a twinkle of excitement in his eyes. 

Her face lit up with surprise and delight. This may be somewhat fun after all. Mystic Hollow was known for its serene beauty, bustling market, and diverse wares, a place she had always wished to visit. Or, at least her predecessor wanted to visit since there were a whole lot of haunted places in that area. 

"Oh, Father, that's wonderful!"

She exclaimed, trying her best to sound like an eleven-year-old whose heart was soaring with joy.

"I thought it would be a perfect way to celebrate your birthday in the way you truly desire—a quiet, magical getaway,"

Hector added, his eyes reflecting his fatherly love.

The news of the trip filled the rest of the dinner with animated conversation and excitement. They discussed the places they would visit, the magical wonders they would explore, and the adventures that awaited them.

Hector said that he had been there once, but that was to catch a gang of poachers trying to ship off a herd of unicorns across the ocean. He did, however, say that there were a lot of fun places all over the area. The departure date was somewhat hastily set by him, they were to go the day after tomorrow.

She stared at him, her eyes twitching in annoyance at his childish antics. She wished for him to at least give her a week to prepare for everything that might come their way but she understood his predicament. He was, after all, an important ministry worker and couldn't take too long a leave and yet he had asked for nearly a fortnight's leave, So, he couldn't shift around the dates. 

In the day leading up to their trip, Victoire's anticipation grew. She envisioned the possible tranquility of Mystic Hollow, the enchanting forests, the gentle whispers of nature, the haunting screams of the ghosts, and her daydream came to an abrupt halt.

Mystic 'Hollow' wasn't called that for nothing. It was a place where a convergence of dead spirits occurred, courtesy of a dark wizard, and there were a lot of dark artifacts being dumped amongst the muggles there. 

The morning sun cast a golden glow over the Lefevre estate as Hector and Victoire prepared for their journey to Mystic Hollow. The anticipation of the trip filled the air, and a sense of adventure tingled in their hearts.

A sleek Ministry car arrived at their doorstep, a symbol of the magical world's efficiency and interconnectedness. The car gleamed in the morning light, the emblem of the Ministry of Magic proudly displayed. It was a smooth, elegant vehicle designed for magical transportation.

Hector and Victoire stepped into the Ministry car, the driver nodded at Hector.

"Good day, Mr. Hector. Where to today?"

"Good day to you too Liston. Ministry of Magic, Gate 7, Please."

Hector replied with a deadpan face. 

Liston nodded and started the car, the vehicle glided through the streets, the scenery shifting in a blur as they approached the French Ministry of Magic. It took them a little over seven minutes to cover the distance between Lefever estate and Paris.

Upon arrival, they were greeted by Hector's assistant, Rupert, who guided them through the registration process. Their luggage was thoroughly examined, and their wands were checked to ensure compliance with magical regulations. The Ministry had strict security measures in place, ensuring the safety and integrity of magical travel. 

Victoire's was a practice wand and she had brought it along, she hadn't used any spell for a long time so her wand was blank under the survey spell. Hector's wand had a much different result, his wand showed a whole lot of spells causing him to send a sheepish grin toward the security personnel. 

Once the security checks were completed, they were led to a designated area within the French Ministry—a bustling hub filled with fireplaces. The hub of magical transportation. The room hummed with activity as wizards and witches prepared for their journeys to various destinations.

A Ministry official accompanied them to a traveling network within the hub, it was a nexus of magical pathways that connected distant magical communities. The network was a mesmerizing spectacle, a series of shimmering pathways branching out in all directions.

Hector and Victoire stepped onto one of the pathways, guided by the official. The sensation was unpleasant like someone had just stuffed her down a drain that uses sand instead of water. It was unlike anything she had experienced before—a rush of heat, a swirl of colorful ashes, and a feeling of cramped weightlessness as they traveled through the magical conduit.

In a matter of seconds, they emerged from the traveling network into a spacious room within The Department for International Portkey and Travel Regulation. The room was adorned with intricate designs and magical symbols, a place filled with desks and long lines of witches and wizards waiting for their portkey to be authorized.

From there, they were escorted to a portkey station—a mode of magical transportation that involved touching a designated object to be transported to a predetermined location. A portkey resembling an intricately designed key was prepared for them, and the Ministry official explained its usage.

This was a VIP treatment, usually, it took seven days to get an appointment with a portkey in charge and then seven days to wait for their turn to come, and then seven hours for the enchanter to make a portkey. Ready-made, key-shaped portkeys were set aside for VIPs or Ministry Businesses. 

With the key-like portkey in their hands, they tensed up and waited for the key to teleport them to—New England's branch of the Ministry of Magic. As they activated the portkey, a surge of magic enveloped them, and the world around them blurred and twisted. A similar feeling to that of being stuck inside a running grinder enveloped them. 

Moments later, they landed at the New England Ministry of Magic, a branch devoid of much activity. The atmosphere was different—tinged with the essence of a new place, a different magical culture. The architecture was a blend of modernity and tradition, reflecting the uniqueness of this branch.

Hector and Victoire were welcomed by representatives of the New England Ministry, the head of Aurors of that branch, who guided them through the arrival process. They were given a warm reception and provided with information about Mystic Hollow and the enchanting experiences awaiting them.

The head of New England Aurors was Mr. Dumprey Trigony, the very same auror that Hector helped a while back. He smirked at Hector,

"Long time no see Hector, moody as always I see."

Hector didn't smile back, instead, he pointed his wand at Trigony and sent a stinging hex his way. The auror was unable to dodge it and was hit straight on his stomach. 

His smile broadened and he beckoned at the father and daughter dup,

"Come on now, is this a way to treat your old friend."

Upon receiving no response, he looked up at them and saw their deadpan faces.