Small Victories Ch. II: The Oncoming Storm [Teddy/Victoire]
Fic Title: Small Victories
Chapter Number and Title: Chapter II: The Oncoming Storm
Ship: Teddy/Victoire (in later chapters)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Swearing, angst like whoa. In later chapters this fic will deal with gender identity. If you think transgendered and genderqueer people are creepy and weird, a) go dunk your head in ice water and try not to be a bigot, and b) don't read this fic.
Wordcount: ~1500 words, this chapter
Summary: Victoire knows she's messed up, but she doesn't know why.
A/N: Unbeta'd. If anyone wants to volunteer to beta later chapters, comment! I'll love you forever, and you'll get to see new chapters before anyone else.
Chapter I is here.
Chapter II: The Oncoming Storm
They spent more time together after that, and Teddy felt acutely that he had been neglecting the girl who had been his best friend through thick and thin since forever, and had completely forgotten how amazing she was.
Mostly they talked. They would intercept each other in the halls between classes and discuss their professors, and sit together at lunch and predict who would be the new Minister of Magic (Teddy loyally thought it would be Harry, Victoire was convinced that Shacklebolt would serve another term).
After classes ended for the day, they would retreat to the library, or to one common room or the other, and alternate between studying for their respective exams and talking about ... everything, really. Everything that was on their minds.
Victoire had started eating properly again -- mostly because Teddy had threatened to tell her Gran, omnipotent matriarch of the Weasley clan, if she didn't. By the middle of December she was looking almost healthy again. Her skin had rediscovered colour, and Teddy no longer felt like he would break her if he made a sudden noise.
Now they were sitting in the library, watching the snow fall through the large window and not really paying attention to the enormous textbooks they were trying to read. Victoire was idly fiddling with the end of her plait, and Teddy was watching the way she twisted it and slid it between her fingers.
"Cut it," Victoire said suddenly.
"What?"
"Cut it," she repeated, pulling her hair out of its band and beginning to unplait it. "My hair."
"Why?" Teddy had always admired her hair.
"I hate it," she said simply. "I never want to see it again."
"But why?" Teddy asked petulantly.
"Merlin, Teddy, I don't know," she snapped, "but I think it may be part of what's messed up about me."
She finished unplaiting her hair and turned her back to Teddy. "Cut it," she ordered once again.
His hand ghosted over it. It was normally ruler-straight, he knew, but now it fell in wide waves from being held in a tight plait all day. "Do I have to?"
"Yes! Merlin, Teddy."
He sighed and pulled out his wand. "How short?"
"As short as possible. Cut it all off!" she cried dramatically, and Teddy glanced behind them, hoping Victoire hadn't been loud enough to attract the librarian.
"Alright, if you're sure," Teddy said. He touched his wand to her hair, right at the top of her neck, and muttered a charm. The ginger waves fell down onto the table, and he vanished them.
Victoire shook her head back and forth and ran a hand through her hair experimentally. "Nice," she grinned. "I don't know why I never cut it before."
"Most girls don't," Teddy pointed out.
Victoire's brows knit together. Teddy got the sensation that an enormous thought was brewing under her new haircut, and that it wouldn't be a bad idea to prepare for a storm.
* * *
They floo'd to the Burrow together. Before his Gran had died, Teddy had spent the first half of his Christmases with her, and although a few years had passed, aparating straight to the Burrow still took a lot of getting used to.
But Victoire held tightly to his hand as they spun past fireplace after fireplace, and when they were ejected out, covered in soot and coughing, it was into a house too full of love for Teddy to possibly feel sad.
They stood, brushing soot off of each other and laughing, before being pounced upon by what felt like a hundred Weasley relatives. Molly and Dominique tumbled out of the fireplace soon after, and the holidays began.
The first thing everyone noticed was Victoire's hair. Most people said it looked "rather cute," which triggered an extremely lukewarm response from Victoire. Uncle George, however, said it looked "badass," and this earned him a grin.
Victoire's parents reacted badly, as Teddy had expected. Bill and Fleur were both big on hair, and Victoire's had been their pride and joy. They fussed and cried over the loss of her "beautiful, beautiful hair", and generally made complete idiots of themselves.
Teddy thought Victoire looked much better without all that hair. She looked, somehow, a hundred times happier, and Teddy liked her better when she was happy. It was as if the weight of her hair had been pinning her soul to the ground.
Teddy and Victoire spent very little time together over the holidays. Both were being attacked by different sets of relatives. But after dinner on Christmas, they snuck out onto the porch. Teddy cast warming charms, and turned to Victoire. "Do you still think you're messed up?"
She drew her knees up to her chest. "I don't know. Yes, I suppose. I don't really want to talk about it."
"Alright." They sat in silence for several minutes, listening to the sounds of laughter from inside. Someone was setting off fireworks down in the village, and they sizzled overhead in Christmas colours.
"I don't think you're messed up," Teddy said after a while. "I think you're brilliant."
Victoire laughed, and nudged him with her elbow. "Well, I am that," she quipped. "But I am messed up, and ... I don't think it's something I can change."
"Have you worked out what it is, then?"
She ran a hand through her close cropped hair. "Sort of. But I can't really explain it, not yet."
"But --"
"Patience, Teddy. It's a virtue."
"You know, I've never really believed that."
"Neither have I," Victoire agreed, "but sometimes it's a necessity."
There was another long silence before Teddy spoke. "You can tell me, you know. Anything."
"With this," Victoire muttered, "I'm not sure I can."
* * *
Victoire had a row with her parents after breakfast, on the day that she and Teddy were to floo back to school. According to Victoire, it was "about the hair, only really not."
Teddy was pretty sure it had been about the hair at the beginning, but it seemed to have been one of those rows where it escalated to the point that no one remembered what they had been fighting about in the first place.
Victoire had a sour, brooding attitude all morning, and when they had arrived back at Hogwarts she had set off towards Charms without a word to him. By lunch she seemed to have cheered up a bit, but it was like half her newfound happiness had been scraped off with a blunt knife.
Teddy had always liked Victoire's parents quite a lot, as he liked all the Weasleys, but that day he despised them. He couldn't remember the last time Victoire had been happy, and now she seemed to be teetering on a thin line between acting like a normal human being and wallowing in the blackest pits of deep despair.
By the end of the first week of January, however, she seemed alright. But as they were studying in the library one afternoon, he noticed that there was a small ring at the side of her lower lip. A piercing.
"D'you like it?" she said. "Molly did it, just this morning."
"Molly can do piercings?" He didn't even ask what had possessed her to let an insane, hyperactive, pranking fourth year anywhere near her, with or without a needle.
"Apparently," Victoire grinned. "It was news to me, too -- but apparently Uncle George has been giving her secret lessons. It came out good, don't you think?"
"... It's nice," Teddy said tentatively. It was really excellently done, Teddy knew, but he was squeamish about needles ... and he didn't want to think about what Victoire's parents would say. At least he didn't have to worry about that until summer.
Was this some sort of teenage rebellion thing? Somehow, he didn't think so, because Victoire had that same glow about her that had followed her haircut.
Was this the beginning of the storm? Not quite, Teddy thought, but he could hear thunderclaps.
Chapter III
Chapter Number and Title: Chapter II: The Oncoming Storm
Ship: Teddy/Victoire (in later chapters)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Swearing, angst like whoa. In later chapters this fic will deal with gender identity. If you think transgendered and genderqueer people are creepy and weird, a) go dunk your head in ice water and try not to be a bigot, and b) don't read this fic.
Wordcount: ~1500 words, this chapter
Summary: Victoire knows she's messed up, but she doesn't know why.
A/N: Unbeta'd. If anyone wants to volunteer to beta later chapters, comment! I'll love you forever, and you'll get to see new chapters before anyone else.
Chapter I is here.
Chapter II: The Oncoming Storm
They spent more time together after that, and Teddy felt acutely that he had been neglecting the girl who had been his best friend through thick and thin since forever, and had completely forgotten how amazing she was.
Mostly they talked. They would intercept each other in the halls between classes and discuss their professors, and sit together at lunch and predict who would be the new Minister of Magic (Teddy loyally thought it would be Harry, Victoire was convinced that Shacklebolt would serve another term).
After classes ended for the day, they would retreat to the library, or to one common room or the other, and alternate between studying for their respective exams and talking about ... everything, really. Everything that was on their minds.
Victoire had started eating properly again -- mostly because Teddy had threatened to tell her Gran, omnipotent matriarch of the Weasley clan, if she didn't. By the middle of December she was looking almost healthy again. Her skin had rediscovered colour, and Teddy no longer felt like he would break her if he made a sudden noise.
Now they were sitting in the library, watching the snow fall through the large window and not really paying attention to the enormous textbooks they were trying to read. Victoire was idly fiddling with the end of her plait, and Teddy was watching the way she twisted it and slid it between her fingers.
"Cut it," Victoire said suddenly.
"What?"
"Cut it," she repeated, pulling her hair out of its band and beginning to unplait it. "My hair."
"Why?" Teddy had always admired her hair.
"I hate it," she said simply. "I never want to see it again."
"But why?" Teddy asked petulantly.
"Merlin, Teddy, I don't know," she snapped, "but I think it may be part of what's messed up about me."
She finished unplaiting her hair and turned her back to Teddy. "Cut it," she ordered once again.
His hand ghosted over it. It was normally ruler-straight, he knew, but now it fell in wide waves from being held in a tight plait all day. "Do I have to?"
"Yes! Merlin, Teddy."
He sighed and pulled out his wand. "How short?"
"As short as possible. Cut it all off!" she cried dramatically, and Teddy glanced behind them, hoping Victoire hadn't been loud enough to attract the librarian.
"Alright, if you're sure," Teddy said. He touched his wand to her hair, right at the top of her neck, and muttered a charm. The ginger waves fell down onto the table, and he vanished them.
Victoire shook her head back and forth and ran a hand through her hair experimentally. "Nice," she grinned. "I don't know why I never cut it before."
"Most girls don't," Teddy pointed out.
Victoire's brows knit together. Teddy got the sensation that an enormous thought was brewing under her new haircut, and that it wouldn't be a bad idea to prepare for a storm.
* * *
They floo'd to the Burrow together. Before his Gran had died, Teddy had spent the first half of his Christmases with her, and although a few years had passed, aparating straight to the Burrow still took a lot of getting used to.
But Victoire held tightly to his hand as they spun past fireplace after fireplace, and when they were ejected out, covered in soot and coughing, it was into a house too full of love for Teddy to possibly feel sad.
They stood, brushing soot off of each other and laughing, before being pounced upon by what felt like a hundred Weasley relatives. Molly and Dominique tumbled out of the fireplace soon after, and the holidays began.
The first thing everyone noticed was Victoire's hair. Most people said it looked "rather cute," which triggered an extremely lukewarm response from Victoire. Uncle George, however, said it looked "badass," and this earned him a grin.
Victoire's parents reacted badly, as Teddy had expected. Bill and Fleur were both big on hair, and Victoire's had been their pride and joy. They fussed and cried over the loss of her "beautiful, beautiful hair", and generally made complete idiots of themselves.
Teddy thought Victoire looked much better without all that hair. She looked, somehow, a hundred times happier, and Teddy liked her better when she was happy. It was as if the weight of her hair had been pinning her soul to the ground.
Teddy and Victoire spent very little time together over the holidays. Both were being attacked by different sets of relatives. But after dinner on Christmas, they snuck out onto the porch. Teddy cast warming charms, and turned to Victoire. "Do you still think you're messed up?"
She drew her knees up to her chest. "I don't know. Yes, I suppose. I don't really want to talk about it."
"Alright." They sat in silence for several minutes, listening to the sounds of laughter from inside. Someone was setting off fireworks down in the village, and they sizzled overhead in Christmas colours.
"I don't think you're messed up," Teddy said after a while. "I think you're brilliant."
Victoire laughed, and nudged him with her elbow. "Well, I am that," she quipped. "But I am messed up, and ... I don't think it's something I can change."
"Have you worked out what it is, then?"
She ran a hand through her close cropped hair. "Sort of. But I can't really explain it, not yet."
"But --"
"Patience, Teddy. It's a virtue."
"You know, I've never really believed that."
"Neither have I," Victoire agreed, "but sometimes it's a necessity."
There was another long silence before Teddy spoke. "You can tell me, you know. Anything."
"With this," Victoire muttered, "I'm not sure I can."
* * *
Victoire had a row with her parents after breakfast, on the day that she and Teddy were to floo back to school. According to Victoire, it was "about the hair, only really not."
Teddy was pretty sure it had been about the hair at the beginning, but it seemed to have been one of those rows where it escalated to the point that no one remembered what they had been fighting about in the first place.
Victoire had a sour, brooding attitude all morning, and when they had arrived back at Hogwarts she had set off towards Charms without a word to him. By lunch she seemed to have cheered up a bit, but it was like half her newfound happiness had been scraped off with a blunt knife.
Teddy had always liked Victoire's parents quite a lot, as he liked all the Weasleys, but that day he despised them. He couldn't remember the last time Victoire had been happy, and now she seemed to be teetering on a thin line between acting like a normal human being and wallowing in the blackest pits of deep despair.
By the end of the first week of January, however, she seemed alright. But as they were studying in the library one afternoon, he noticed that there was a small ring at the side of her lower lip. A piercing.
"D'you like it?" she said. "Molly did it, just this morning."
"Molly can do piercings?" He didn't even ask what had possessed her to let an insane, hyperactive, pranking fourth year anywhere near her, with or without a needle.
"Apparently," Victoire grinned. "It was news to me, too -- but apparently Uncle George has been giving her secret lessons. It came out good, don't you think?"
"... It's nice," Teddy said tentatively. It was really excellently done, Teddy knew, but he was squeamish about needles ... and he didn't want to think about what Victoire's parents would say. At least he didn't have to worry about that until summer.
Was this some sort of teenage rebellion thing? Somehow, he didn't think so, because Victoire had that same glow about her that had followed her haircut.
Was this the beginning of the storm? Not quite, Teddy thought, but he could hear thunderclaps.
Chapter III