Note: I was originally planning on posting this as a separate story, but I've been trying to post it for three days and fanfiction won't let me for some reason. Instead of waiting for that issue to be sorted out, I'm just adding it as a separate chapter. Sorry for the confusion!
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.~*~. M A D N E S S .~*~.
Teddy's Point of View
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Victoire Weasley is driving me mad.
Sitting at the foot of my unmade bed, I stare in silence at the snitch-shaped clock hanging on my wall. The seconds slowly continue ticking by, but I'm no closer to making a decision about whether to go to Harry's party than I was half an hour ago. On the one hand, I really do need to talk to Harry and Ron before I leave for Auror training in Munich next week. On the other, I really do not need to see Victoire.
Sure, I might want to see her. Sure, I might be driving myself into insanity by not seeing her. But I really do not need to see Victoire Weasley right now.
The clock ticks off another long minute. I let out a groan of frustration and collapse onto my bed. The ceiling is much more interesting than that damn clock anyway.
I just don't understand Victoire sometimes! She has this uncanny ability to drive me absolutely mad and yet I can't say that I completely hate it. Or at least most of the time I don't hate it.
Most of the time my qualms with her center around the fact that she has this superiority complex that can't be sated by anything that I've ever tried. She gets that from her mother—a fact that Bill reiterates to me nearly every time I come to visit. But little quirks like that don't leave me sitting alone in my dark room trying to figure out whether it's safe to show my face at one of her family gatherings.
I really don't know what I did to piss her off. Normally, I have some tiny inkling of an idea but this time I legitimately have no clue. She's been distant with me all summer. Not exactly rude, but not Victoire either. It's like we were never best friends! She's mad at me. I can always tell when something's bothering her and something is definitely bothering her.
The thing is that no matter how angry she's been at me, she's always been willing to talk about it. That's one thing that Victoire loves: talking. And talking about her feelings is an added bonus. Another thing about Victoire: she's always right. No exceptions. You learn that after a while. So, the fact that she is unwilling to even talk about what's bothering her is scaring me a little bit.
I either fucked up real badly or this has to do with something beyond my control.
I sit and glance at the clock once more. To hell with it! I stand up and Apparate to the Potters' before I can change my mind. I don't bother ringing the doorbell but walk right in. Ginny and George greet me almost as soon as I'm through the door and George hands me a firewhiskey almost before I can say hello.
"Harry's in the kitchen with Ron," Ginny says, looking down at the firewhiskey disdainfully. I might be nineteen, but I still don't think I'm allowed to drink in front of her. I remove the offending object from sight and stand with it awkwardly behind my back.
"Thanks," I say. "I need to talk to him about some Auror stuff but I'll come back and see you in a bit." She nods and then turns to scold George for giving me alcohol, but I'm already gone.
I push through the swinging door into the kitchen and am pleased to find only Harry and Ron there, sitting across from each other at the table and looking over what appears to be a floor plan. Ron's been trying to remodel his house for ages; he never seems to get very far.
They look up at my arrival and a wide grin spreads across Harry's face. "I didn't think you were going to make it!" he says, standing up. I walk over and give him a hug.
"Ginny didn't give you that, did she?" Ron asks in disbelief, staring hard at the firewhiskey in my hand as Harry and I pull apart.
"Nah, George did," I reply, hopping onto the counter so that I'm facing the two men. Harry takes a seat once more, but continues to stare at me strangely.
"What?" I chuckle. "You're looking at me like I've suddenly grown two heads."
"Just surprised you're here is all," he shrugs, a smirk appearing on his face.
"What? We too good for you now that you're a full-fledged Auror?" Ron jokes.
I laugh and pop the top off of my firewhiskey. "You are Ron Weasley and Harry Potter—you could never be too good for me." I take a long swig of firewhiskey before continuing. "Victoire, however, is a different story."
"Ah!" Ron exclaims knowingly. "Still not over that, are you?"
"I think it's a pretty safe bet that he's not getting over this one any time soon," Harry chuckles. I just roll my eyes and let them have their fun. Harry's always been more of a friend than a father-figure and I don't keep secrets from him. Granted, I'm pretty sure he guessed my feelings for Victoire long before I told him. And when you tell Harry your secrets, you tell them to Ron too. That's just how it works. Of course, the art of secret-keepng gets very complicated in this family.
"How long has it been now?" Ron asks, looking over to Harry. "Nearly a decade, right? Hell, it only took me seven years to tell Hermione how I felt. Never thought I'd meet someone even more pathetic than me." He turns to me with a joking smile.
"Cheers," I joke. "And it has not been a decade," I say even though in all honesty it probably has.
"No, it almost has," Harry responds, scratching his head as he tries to remember something I'm sure I don't want him saying out loud. I take another swig of firewhiskey. "The first time I got you talking about Victoire was right after we'd had 'The Talk'—"
"Oh Merlin," I groan. That is one memory I don't want to remember.
"I remember because I was already feeling so awkward that I figured why not," he shrugs. "So I just asked you if you liked her because I was already curious. I didn't actually think you'd say yes!"
"Good to know," I say as the two men start laughing.
As the laughter settles down, a thought seems to occur to Ron. "You know, I'm going to have to have that talk with Hugo soon. He's—what?—nine now? Merlin, I'm getting old! I think I'll just have Hermione do it though. I mean, she's better at that stuff than I am. And I have really inappropriate reactions to stress."
"It's easier the second time around," Harry encourages.
"Good thing I only have one son then," Ron replies.
"Actually, that was a lie," Harry says, stopping as he remembers something else. "Albus's was easy. He just sat there, refused to make eye contact, and then nodded when I was done talking. James, however, insisted on asking questions. To this day, I have no clue if he was honestly curious or if he was just trying to make me feel uncomfortable."
"Probably the latter," I provide.
"I agree with Lupin on this one," Ron smiles. "But what did you expect, naming the boy James Sirius. You never stood a chance with that one."
"Can we go back to talking about me for a second?" I interrupt. They both just look over, waiting for me to say something. "Bill hasn't said anything, has he?"
"You think I'm going to talk to my brother about the probability of his daughter hooking up with a nineteen year old Auror with turquoise hair?" Ron laughs.
"He hasn't mentioned anything to me," Harry says kindly. "Sorry, mate. You're just going to have to figure this one out on your own."
"Damn it," I sigh, draining the last of my firewhiskey.
"She's out back with the kids," Harry adds.
"Great," I grimace. "So she's already pissed off at the world."
"Good luck," Ron laughs. I just give them a slight wave and head into the back yard.
I stand in the entryway for a few seconds, trying to get my bearings as my eyes adjust to the bright sunlight. James, Fred, Albus, Lily, and Hugo are splashing around in the pool and in the distance, several people are visible high up in the air, a quaffle being tossed between them. I sigh and step fully onto the patio.
It takes me a second to locate Victoire. She's sitting on a lounge chair with her back to me and although I usually know where she is practically by instinct, I didn't immediately recognize her due to the very large sunhat covering her long, blonde hair. I take a step towards her and it's only as her body comes into view that I notice two things: first, Rose is sitting at her feet; and second, Victoire's wearing a bikini.
I curse silently to myself. Really? I can barely think straight when she's wearing all of her clothes. This is going to be nearly impossible.
Although I can't hear what Victoire is saying, I imagine it's not completely polite judging by the look on Rose's face. I smile slightly to myself as I stand back, waiting on the two to finish their conversation. Victoire has about as much patience with her family as I have with people constantly asking me to morph my appearance. Although it's not her most endearing quality, normally I can calm her down a bit. Of course, that only applies when she'll actually let me speak to her.
I see Rose roll her eyes and walk off with a huff. She throws her towel to the side and does a cannonball into the water, annoying Albus. When she surfaces, she looks much happier. I take one last deep breath to prepare myself and walk up to Rose who is already lying back down with her eyes closed once more.
"Why do you do that?" I ask, looking down at her. It takes all of the self control I have to keep my eyes on her face. Although I'm not usually one to degrade women by ogling their bodies, she is in a bikini and this honestly isn't my fault. She takes her sunglasses off slowly and stares up at me.
"Why do I do what?" she asks, looking only mildly surprised to see me.
"Why do you harass the kids like that?" I clarify. I begin to feel uncomfortable making her look up at me, so I take a seat at the end of the lounge chair. She sits and pulls her knees up to cover her chest—something for which I'm very grateful. "Nice hat, by the way." I say before I can stop myself. Her eyes immediately look up as if trying to see the hat and then she yanks it off, freeing her long blonde hair to wave in the wind.
With the hat off, it becomes even more obvious that she's avoiding my eyes. I sigh deeply in annoyance, at a complete loss as to what to do. If she doesn't want to speak to me, I can't make her. It's killing me though because she's leaving tomorrow and I don't want to leave us like this. I can't wait until Christmas to know what's wrong.
Against my better judgment, I reach over and physically lift her head so that she's forced to look into my eyes. Even then it takes her a second before she's willing to actually look at me. The shock of her eyes meeting mine startles me into silence for several seconds. Her blue eyes, normally so full of life are hiding a sadness that I can't explain. It's almost like she's pleading with me—but what she's trying to say, I have no idea.
"You're doing that thing again," I finally choke out, my voice breaking a little.
"What thing?" she asks softly.
"The thing where you refuse to talk to me."
"I am not!"
"You are too!" I insist, releasing her chin only to ball my hand into a fist by my side. Even though my hand is no longer forcing her, she continues to stare at me for several seconds until my gaze becomes too much and she looks away.
"What are you doing here anyway?" she asks, repositioning herself so that she's sitting with her legs crossed as far away from me as physically possible. "You normally don't show up to these things." Although that statement isn't entirely inaccurate, I resent her for saying it. The only year I legitimately missed was last year. I came all of the other times (even though I complained about it to her mercilessly) just because I knew she was going to be forced to go also.
"I'm about to ship out for Auror training until Christmas," I say stiffly. She would have known that if she'd bothered to talk to me at all over the past month. It's been hard not talking to her. I'm used to telling her everything and without her there I just feel lost. "I wanted to see Harry before I left and this seemed as good a time as any." I debate whether to add what I want to say next, but figure what the hell. This situation couldn't possibly get any worse. "And I wanted to see you. You haven't returned my owls."
"I've been busy," she shrugs, looking everywhere except at me. I find it ironic that she can't look at me and yet I'm finding it completely impossible to take my eyes off of her. "I guess I just—"
"Forgot?" I interject. "Really?"
"I guess so," she says. My blood begins to boil. I'm not one to have a short temper, especially at Victoire, but I want more than anything to just start yelling at her. She's being a bitch—even more so than usual. I'm not used to her bitchiness being directed at me and I don't like it. I have to literally bite my tongue to keep from saying something I'll regret. She looks up at me sadly and that's when I break because she's giving me that same look that she gave me earlier. Like she's pleading with me. Like this is all my fault.
"Victoire," I choke, keeping my voice as low as I can so that no one overhears us. The last thing I need is for one of the kids to go tell Bill that I've been yelling at his daughter. "What are you doing?" I ask simply. She quickly averts her gaze once more and that at least tells me that she's aware of what she's doing. "You refuse to see me," I clarify, moving my head to the side so that I'm directly in her line of vision. She looks over at me in aggravation. "You won't return my owls. I was at your house last week and you wouldn't even come downstairs! I don't know what I did to make you this upset. Do you hear me, Victoire? I have no clue what I did."
"You didn't do anything," she says immediately, but she says nothing more. I groan and close my eyes tightly, partly to distract myself from looking at her and partly to allow myself some time to think. She's obviously not going to tell me what's bothering her and if she wants me to go, then I'm going to give that to her.
"Okay," I say standing. She looks over at me in shock. "Have a good final year at Hogwarts, then. I won't write." I look at her once more, silently begging her to stop me, but she doesn't open her mouth so I turn away from her.
I've almost reached the door when she stops me. "Wait!" she cries. I pause before turning, not completely sure I want to hear what she has to say. I look at her in anticipation. Her mouth is open to say something, but she doesn't get the words out and just shrugs helplessly.
"Damn it, Victoire," I murmur. "I can't fix this unless you tell me what's wrong. Please!"
"I can't," she chokes out, her face betraying her emotions. It's then that I realize I got it wrong before. She's not looking at me in anger. She looks more upset than I've ever seen her and it breaks my heart that she won't let me in to help her. What could possibly be causing her this much pain? And if it isn't me, then why is she shutting me out?
"You're not in some kind of trouble are you?" I ask, feeling ridiculous for even suggesting it. "Physically, you're fine? V, you have absolutely no idea what you're doing to me. I just need to know that you're safe."
"Yeah," she shrugs. "I'm…" her voice trails off, and I come to the realization that that's all I'm going to get out of her right now.
"Bye, V." I'm about to turn around when I stop myself. If she's going to be a bitch, then I'm going to assume that I have permission to be an ass. I allow my eyes to drift from her face and take in her bronzed body. She is so beautiful. I turn around, saving that image of her in my mind. Just in case she never lets me back into her life, at least I will have that.
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Ginny eventually calls the whole Weasley-Potter clan outside to eat, but honestly I'm not hungry. I would have left about an hour ago if it wouldn't have been considered incredibly rude. Ginny hates cooking and if I skipped a meal of her making, I probably would have had to hear about it for weeks. Plus, Harry would have skinned me alive.
"So, how'd it go?" Harry asks quietly, inching himself into line behind me as we wait to serve ourselves. I just shake my head. "Well, I was talking to Bill and he said she's been off for weeks. Don't worry, I didn't say anything about you! Other than that, no one seems to have an explanation."
"I might try talking to Dom about it later," I shrug. "But I'm honestly not sure what good it'll do. She doesn't want to talk to me; she's made that perfectly clear."
"I'm just not so sure this has to do with you, Teddy," Harry says and that surprisingly makes me feel a little bit better.
"Maybe it doesn't," I agree. "But just the fact that it's happening means that something is really wrong with our relationship. We've always told each other everything!"
"I don't know, kid. It's been a while since I had to deal with relationship trouble." I roll my eyes and begin filling my plate with food as we reach the serving table. I scan the long picnic table for an empty seat and sit down away from all of the little children. It's only once I'm seated that I notice Victoire is sitting right across from me. I move to stand up, but Harry, who was passing behind me at that exact moment, pushes me back down and takes the seat next to me. To add insult to injury, Rose takes the seat on my other side and immediately begins asking me to make faces.
"Not right now," I say after several seconds of listening to her requests. "Maybe later, Rose." The meal lasts longer than any Sorting ceremony ever did at Hogwarts. Rather than try to force Victoire to talk to me, I decide to treat her like she's treating me and just pretend like she's not there. I honestly am not doing it be rude—I can' sit here and not try to have a conversation with her. And since she obviously doesn't want to have a conversation with me, this is the only choice I have.
"Excuse me," she suddenly says, jumping up from the table. "I don't feel well." She rushes into the house and I stand to follow her instinctively, but Harry stops me once more.
"I don't know what's wrong with her, Ted, but I don't think following her is going to help right now." I sigh and sit back down. He's right—he's always right—but that doesn't change the fact that being out here while she's in there hurting is killing me.
People slowly begin finishing their meals and I help Harry clean up a bit before we both go back into the house with the rest of the adults. I don't see Victoire anywhere and no one makes any mention of her, so I just sit in silence as the conversation turns to happenings at the Ministry and the outcome of this year's Quidditch World Cup. Hours pass and slowly the house begins emptying, but I still don't leave. I hear Fleur and Bill arguing about what to do with Victoire who has apparently locked herself in an upstairs bathroom, but don't offer my own opinion on the subject.
Harry comes over and takes a seat on the couch next to me. "Teddy, go home," he says softly. I look over at him sadly.
"She's driving me mad," I say. Harry nods.
"I know. And you're letting her. Go home, Teddy. I'll floo over if I find out anything, but you're doing no good sitting on this couch."
"Thanks," I sigh, standing up. He gives me one last weary smile before I Apparate into my flat which is just as dark and unwelcoming as it was when I left.
Just to have something to do, I change into some pajamas but that doesn't distract me from thoughts of Victoire at all. When I shared a flat in muggle London last year, my muggle-born roommate had a television. While normally I'm not a fan of muggle technology, I could really use a television right now but they don't work in Diagon Alley and I have nothing to distract me from thinking about Victoire.
I just don't understand her! Not that I ever have, but now I really don't understand her. It's hard to admit to myself that maybe this whole ordeal isn't my fault. Maybe it's hers. How can we go from being best friends one minute to not speaking the next? It just doesn't make logical sense.
I spend nearly an hour sitting in silence before my fireplace unexpectedly roars to life. I jump in fright. You'd think I'd be used to this sort of stuff by now, but flames suddenly erupting to life in my dark living room are scary no matter how many times it's happened before.
Harry's face appears in the fire a few seconds later and I kneel down on the hearth to see him better. "Harry?"
"Rose says that Victoire's heading your way. Just a warning."
"She's what? How does Rose know that?"
"No clue. I'm just telling you what I know." A knock suddenly reverberates throughout my small flat and my eyes widen in shock. "Harry, she's here! What do I do?"
"Go answer the door!" he demands and then disappears with a pop. I lift myself off of the rug and trudge to the front door, scared of what I'm going to face on the other side. I take a deep breath and pull the door open.
Although Harry warned me, I still wasn't prepared to see Victoire standing there. Her long blonde hair is blowing in the evening wind and even though the temperature has dropped drastically since this afternoon, she's still only wearing a white sundress over her bathing suit. The straps are still visible, tied behind her neck. None of that is as shocking to me, however, as the fact that she is standing there looking at me—really looking at me—for the first time all summer. She opens her mouth several times and I just wait patiently for her to say something. Once it becomes obvious that she isn't going to, I take a step back and open the door widely. "Come in," I sigh.
She slides past me without hesitation and walks straight towards my living room and takes a seat on the couch that used to belong to her parents. I shut and lock the door before approaching her. "What are you doing here?" I ask, emotionless. I'm not mad she's here, but I'm not exactly thrilled either. What is she going to tell me now that she couldn't earlier? This is just going to end in frustration, I can already feel it.
"I need to talk to you," she says quietly.
"Okay," I say, moving to sit down next to her. I'm just about to sit when she stops me.
"Not yet though. I need a minute." So I stand there looking down at her for several seconds, trying to read the emotions on her face. It's only as my eyes roam down her body that I realize she's shaking.
"Victoire, you're shaking," I point out needlessly, but something about seeing her like this takes away the nervousness I was feeling just a few seconds prior. Whatever she has to say, she's still my Victoire. I sit down on the coffee table opposite of her and reach for her hands. To my surprise, she yanks them away and looks up at me, startled. I sigh in frustration. What has happened to her? She never seemed to mind physical contact before.
"Are you cold?" I ask, knowing that she must be. I don't even wait for an answer before standing up.
"A little," she responds. I'm already out of the room. Once out of her presence, I'm able to think properly. I have no clue what is going on, but I'm not letting Victoire leave until she clarifies what the hell it is! She can't leave me like this while she's off at Hogwarts. I reach into my closet and grab the first sweatshirt I see.
I throw it to her as I reenter the room and I take a seat next to her as she shrugs into it. We sit in silence and I look over at her casually. My sweatshirt falls down nearly as far as her dress and there's just something about seeing her in my clothes that drives me crazy.
"Do you want some tea?" I ask suddenly. She shakes her head and I silently groan. I need to do something besides sit here thinking about what I shouldn't be thinking about—especially now! "Please can I make you some tea? I need to do something."
She looks over at me in annoyance and it's the first time I've seen the real Victoire shine through this confusing exterior all day. I can't help the small smile that rises to my lips. The look of annoyance disappears from her face suddenly and then she's just staring at me blankly. My smile disappears as I feel something in the air change.
"I love you," she says. I don't register her words at first and when I do, it takes me a second to convince myself that I haven't just imagined them. Because I have imagined them—many times before today. I've dreamt of her telling me that. I open my mouth to respond, but she shuts her eyes tightly and begins speaking rapidly.
"I don't know when this happened, I don't know why this happened, but I know that it happened and I can't make it stop. I've tried—I've tried really hard, Teddy. And I know I've been a bitch lately and I'm sorry, but I couldn't respond to your letters as just a friend and admit that that was all we were ever going to be. I couldn't watch you with my family and have it shoved in my face that we're just friends." Her eyes open and it shocks me to see the passion there, the raw emotion in her eyes. "I know I'm not supposed to feel this way, but I don't know how to make it stop. And I just wanted you to know that. Just once."
I continue staring at her, waiting for her to say more until I realize that that was it. There's no but. She really is in love with me. I smile widely for what feels like the first time since she stopped talking to me. I can see her body physically relax and I lean back on the couch to alleviate the tension in my body. "I thought you fucking hated me!" I finally say, sitting up and staring at her once more. "I guess I misread those signs, huh?"
She doesn't seem to find any humor in the situation and instead stares at me as if she's scared to death. "Teddy," she prompts. Oh, right. She still needs an answer.
I turn so that I'm facing her and smile as we lock eyes. "I've got something to say to you too and you don't get to interrupt. I've been rehearsing this in my head for a very long time and I want to get it right." She just continues to stare at me and that gives me the strength to go on.
"I remember the day you were born. I told someone that once and they told me that it wasn't possible—that I was too young. But the thing is, Victoire, I remember it. I remember Harry taking me to see you in St. Mungo's and I remember him and your dad joking that we were going to get married one day.
"I don't know exactly when my feelings for you changed. All I know is that by age five, you were the only person in my life that I wanted to play "Aurors and Death Eaters" with. And when I left for school at eleven, I couldn't stop missing you. By age thirteen, though, I knew. I knew I was in love with you and eventually I just had to tell myself that it wasn't ever going away. I tried dating other people, but even that didn't help. And then you started dating other people and it literally felt like you were stabbing me in the heart. So yes, Victoire, I love you. I love you very, very much."
She stares at me in stunned silence, her body completely relaxing. A comfortable silence falls between us as she takes in what I have just said. "Teddy," she finally sighs, but no other words come out.
"I'm going to kiss you now," I say, knowing that I can't wait much longer regardless. I lean over to her and place my lips on hers. She melts into my touch and I pull her closer, tasting her for the first time in my life.
As the kiss deepens, I can't help but think that if Victoire had the ability to drive me mad before, it was going to be nothing compared to what she was going to be able to do now. As long as I have her in my life, however, I can live with this insanity. As long as I have her, going mad doesn't seem so terrible after all.
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A/N: This is a companion piece to "Happiness" written in Victoire's point of view. Review, please!