She thought about what she said, averting her eyes to the floor as he began discussing New Years. He was right in what he said, she looked up at him again. “Like you said, you did it all in the moment. Maybe this just isn’t the right time for me.”
Teddy shook his head more vividly than he meant to do it. “Don’t-…” he started but then quickly interrupted himself, hating to come across the way it would have sounded. “What I was trying to say is that you mustn’t rely on emotions to conjure your magic. Especially not the negative ones. If you always wait for yourself to get angry before actually conjuring wandless and silent magic, then you might make it a habit, and you’ll give all those negative and disgusting mud of emotions access to always take over yourself. I don’t-… I don’t know much, but after I got so angry at New Year’s, I was having the worst of times trying to free myself from being angry. If I had kept going on conjuring magic based on that anger, I doubt I’d have ever gotten rid of it, you know?”
He was right. That kind of anger, that kind of hatred turns people into monsters. She thought of the stories her father would speak of the the second wizarding war, of a woman named Bellatrix Lestrange. She was once shown a photograph of her, the one from her wanted poster. People say the eyes are a window to the soul, and Victoire believed that, she could see it when she looked at her cousin Rose, at her sister. Her eyes lifted, and she could see it in Teddy. But thinking back to that photograph, there was nothing there. She resembled the stuffed animals one could find in wildlife museums. Beady, glass eyes that served their purpose to see but had no life. She thought about what that woman's life must have been like in order to become what she was. What she had to endure or hear as a child to have the humanity sucked out of her. How much anger was she raised with? And Victoire had a brief, silent moment of panic when she thought of the possibility of she herself becoming so angry, so hungry for vengeance, that humanity became unknown to her. I can't. She thought. I won't. Maybe that was the difference between Bellatrix Lestrange and all those thirsting for what they wanted? Maybe they, like most people, like Victoire, were taught and knew when to stop.
Looking back up from the floor, Victoire met Teddy's gaze and held it there for a moment, just watching him. She tried to read the gears turning in his mind. What was he thinking about? Was it about what happened on New Years? Was he thinking something about her?
"I know." Her voice had turned to something she hardly recognized, coming from her. She had been defeated by her own thoughts, she let them win. A heavy feeling in her chest pulled her to the ground. She sat cross legged on the floor and stared at a dummy across the room. "Can we talk about something else?"
She understood what he meant. She believed that one needed to be challenged in a relationship because whenever there’s a person who caters to another, there is never a game. Not that she liked playing games in relationships, but this was something else entirely. She thought of chess. She stopped playing chess with her grandmother because she won every time, and though it was nice in the beginning, it just wasn’t stimulating enough.
Victoire nodded in agreeance, then chuckled at his comment. “You could. But I was thinking more along the lines of ‘buy my coffee’ or ‘organize my bedroom’.”
“I know how you were thinking. But you know how my mind has a tendency to stray to different endeavors.” He merely pressed him lips together, all tight lipped and smiley, as he shrugged his shoulders. Though certainly not the smartest of his family, James knew well enough to know what people said about him. A philanderer with thought with the wrong head. Will charm his way into your heart and into your pants. It came with both its positives and negatives, though James certainly preferred to focus on the positives. Sex was enjoyable. He was young. If he enjoyed it, and his partner the same, then what did it matter?
"I know you do," she chuckled, "I can't say that I'm exactly a saint either most of the time."
It was as if her mind had a mind of its own. It's not that she really cared, but sometimes she would think things that would shock herself. Most of the time they were humor centered, but none the less.
She knew exactly what he meant, so she nodded, but she had absolutely no idea how to convey that. She thought she already was, putting forth the demeanor of power, she thought that was what she had been doing every day as she paraded through the halls. She was confident, and those who didn’t know her might even say she was cocky. Hell, even those who knew her might say that. So, she wasn’t sure how to put forth that feeling when she was already feeling it. She tilted her head to look at him.
“What if I try focusing on the feeling and not the action itself?” She asked quietly, leaning to the side to give him an affectionate nudge with her arm. “Do you think that would work?”
Teddy nodded. “That’s what I meant, but Vic…” He didn’t want to bring up New Year’s Eve again, he didn’t want to burden her with how he had felt, but maybe it would make things easier. So he drew a breath. “After the attack-… I was so angry. You know I’m not someone who gets angry, but after the attack at Oread Manor I was buzzing with anger, I felt like I could crunch the world with my fist. I managed to conjure spells without incantation like I never had before, all that because there was so much of that feeling running through me. But-… But I don’t think it was the anger itself. It was the fact that I was so really very there in this exact moment. Emotions anchor us in the present, right?, and maybe we need to be in the present to use our magic. That’s why when we’re sad or really happy weird things happen around us when we’re little, because it makes us be in the present, and the older we get the more we lose ourselves in the past and the future.“ He shook his head, not sure if any of what he said was remotely right. To him it had made sense, and for him it had worked, but would it help Vic? ”What I’m trying to say, I guess, is that you don’t need to be angry to be powerful, but that you need to feel the way you do when you’re angry. Or sad. Or happy. You need to, I don’t know, get access to the very source of your magic, so the version of you that exists in this very moment.“
She thought about what she said, averting her eyes to the floor as he began discussing New Years. He was right in what he said, she looked up at him again. "Like you said, you did it all in the moment. Maybe this just isn't the right time for me."
She shrugged, still somewhat disappointed she couldn’t do it but not at all surprised. “It’s worth a shot.”
She walked up to the glass and pressed her palm flat against it. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then exhaled through her mouth. She made a quick jolt of pressure against the pane, imagining the effect of the spell, but once again the glass stood intact before her. Okay, she thought, again. Victoire opened her eyes once and pressed her palm against the glass once again. She snorted, nothing happened.
She was beginning to feel heavily insecure. Not only was she proving to herself that the couldn’t do this, but to Teddy too. She huffed and turned on her heel. “Teddy,” She began her request to have him repeat what he said a little louder than she meant to out of frustration with herself, but was cut off by a loud sound behind her. Scurrying forward, she checked behind her to see an evident crack halfway down the glass pane. Her arms went limp at her sides in defeat, and she licked her lips before shrugging again. “Ok.” She spoke to the back wall as if it could understand her.
Teddy stopped himself three times in the course of the next minute. At first he wanted to make a bad joke about shots, and that they hadn’t been partying together for a long while and that they should catch up with that. Then he watched Vic and as upon seeing that nothing happened again, he almost wanted to interfere and explain more. But he realised that it wouldn’t help much, and that Vic wasn’t about to give up anyway. So he was quiet again.
The third time he didn’t stop himself, but was stopped by a loud noise. He had just meant to reply to Vic’s call, like he would always have when she called, but then found his eyes darting to glass, too.
“Okay.” He nodded to himself, then walked over to Vic and the glass. “Anger isn’t the source of our magic.” he said quietly. “So don’t conjure the cracks with anger, but with that feeling of power that comes when you’re angry.” He thought of New Year’s and how his own spells had suddenly been so much more powerful, simply because his magic was fuelled by anger. It was a scary memory.
She knew exactly what he meant, so she nodded, but she had absolutely no idea how to convey that. She thought she already was, putting forth the demeanor of power, she thought that was what she had been doing every day as she paraded through the halls. She was confident, and those who didn’t know her might even say she was cocky. Hell, even those who knew her might say that. So, she wasn’t sure how to put forth that feeling when she was already feeling it. She tilted her head to look at him.
“What if I try focusing on the feeling and not the action itself?” She asked quietly, leaning to the side to give him an affectionate nudge with her arm. “Do you think that would work?”
“That makes sense, I don’t see you with someone who is a pushover.” She agreed. “I don’t think I could be with someone who catered to my every want and need either, because what’s the fun in that, right?”
“I’ve been known to make sense from time to time,” James added, unable to control himself from throwing that in there for his own amusement. “Yeah, I feel like that’d seem good on paper but then it happens and you’re like… bored of it?” He offered, though he wasn’t quite sure if he’d worded it right. “Maybe for a day though. You know, turn it into one of those kinky slave-master sort of things. Definitely a few girls I wouldn’t mind doing that with.”
She understood what he meant. She believed that one needed to be challenged in a relationship because whenever there’s a person who caters to another, there is never a game. Not that she liked playing games in relationships, but this was something else entirely. She thought of chess. She stopped playing chess with her grandmother because she won every time, and though it was nice in the beginning, it just wasn’t stimulating enough.
Victoire nodded in agreeance, then chuckled at his comment. “You could. But I was thinking more along the lines of ‘buy my coffee’ or ‘organize my bedroom’.”
Victoire sighed. “Okay, I’ll see what I can do. You know me, I don’t ever back down from a challenge.”
She took a couple steps forward and rolled up her sleeves. Exhaling slowly, she decided what it was she wanted to try. After peering at the mirror plated wall, she then came to the decision that she was going to crack the glass. If she could, then she was going to try and mend it.
All the other times she’d done something like that on accident, it was emotionally based. That was where she would start. Victoire stood in the middle of the room, making her own blood boil by thinking of things that angered her. Now, she just had to direct that anger. Eyes pressed into thin slits by concentration, she leered at the glass in front of her.
“I know you, yes.“ Teddy chuckled. And he loved that trait of her. He stepped aside and watched her. After a moment, when he understood what she was doing, he made sure to stand still and not to distract her. He wasn’t surprised when nothing happened – that would have been extraordinary – but somehow he wondered if maybe he wouldn’t have been surprised if something had happened. “Maybe you’re thinking a bit too big.” he said eventually. “If you try to make something happen that wouldn’t actually happen at all, then it’s probably too difficult. Maybe,” He hummed, unsure, “maybe you should put your hands against the glass, and push. Your magic would reinforce that idea of breaking, and your body movements would help you focus. Maybe?” Maybe not, though.
She shrugged, still somewhat disappointed she couldn't do it but not at all surprised. "It's worth a shot."
She walked up to the glass and pressed her palm flat against it. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then exhaled through her mouth. She made a quick jolt of pressure against the pane, imagining the effect of the spell, but once again the glass stood intact before her. Okay, she thought, again. Victoire opened her eyes once and pressed her palm against the glass once again. She snorted, nothing happened.
She was beginning to feel heavily insecure. Not only was she proving to herself that the couldn't do this, but to Teddy too. She huffed and turned on her heel. "Teddy," She began her request to have him repeat what he said a little louder than she meant to out of frustration with herself, but was cut off by a loud sound behind her. Scurrying forward, she checked behind her to see an evident crack halfway down the glass pane. Her arms went limp at her sides in defeat, and she licked her lips before shrugging again. "Ok." She spoke to the back wall as if it could understand her.
Charms homework was a bore, and Clydeane was eager for a distraction. Fortunately for her, one came walking along the Black Lake just when she needed it. “Nice ass!” she called out.
Potions was, as always, awful. It didn't help that she also only got about three hours of sleep last night since she had to stay up and study for the Transfiguration quiz after the Quidditch match. Rubbing her eyes, she wasn't really planing on talking to anyone, but then she heard someone call out:
"Nice ass!"
Victoire turned and saw a pretty brunette a little ways behind her. She checked over her shoulder to make sure the girl was talking to her, and when she discovered no one there she grinned. "Thanks, I think."
Despite being a friendly person, she never really knew how to deal with these situations since they didn't happen very often.
Victoire’s eyes peered in every direction looking for a sign of another person, but they appeared to be the only two nearby. She grabbed a band from around her wrist and tied her hair back before walking over to the girl and squatting next to her. Up close, she got a better view of her facial features. She’d seen the younger Hufflepuff girl around before; she was close with Lily.
“Are you hurt?” She asked. “If I got you up, could you stand?”
Anna sighed slightly, glancing away from Vic and down to her ankles. “Not necessarily hurt, but I’m also not sure if I could stand right now.” Her gaze went back to Victoire, slightly sad smile on her lips. It was always so difficult when her ankles decided to just give out on her. “Medical anomaly. My ankles are just… weaker than others. I might be okay to walk, but you can never really tell.”
"Oh, I'm sorry." Victoire said, genuinely feeling bad about the girl's situation, and also slightly guilty she didn't even take something like a medical anomaly into account when wondering what had happened to her. "If you want, I can help you up. If you want to try and walk I mean. Or I can go get Madam Pomfrey, but I'm pretty strong if you don't want to wait."
“Check the boxes?” She quoted, laughing. “You’ve got a check list as to who is worthy of a date?”
She admired James openness about the subject, and loved that shameless part of his personality. She secretly wished she could be as comfortable talking about her personal life as he was.
“It’s sort of amusing when you put it like that. Then again, I guess we all have some sort of criteria, don’t we?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” James shrugged his shoulders high, unapologetically honest as he didn’t see a fault in his method. “I mean, it’s not like a keep a like handy or nothing but I’ve got a few things I look out for. Like for starters she’s got to be fit. If you don’t find ‘em attractive them what’s the point?” Physical appearance was definitely what first caught James’s attention. A general sense of beauty or perhaps some well-developed assets. More often, the latter primarily were broom cupboard types. “Can’t be a Death Eater for fucking obvious reasons. Liking quidditch is a big plus. I got to be able to have an actual conversation with her; I don’t know, guess I sort of like someone who’s willing to challenge me. More fun that way,” he smiled at that thought.
"That makes sense, I don't see you with someone who is a pushover." She agreed. "I don't think I could be with someone who catered to my every want and need either, because what's the fun in that, right?"
“Yes, I was.” She confirmed with a grin. “But I see you found me instead. I was wondering if you were busy? I’m all done with my homework for the week and it’s quite a nice day out, plus I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”
“Ah, see? I know you better than you know yourself.” She winked, then nodded. “I am now. I was just studying, but I believe a break is in order — and I agree. We must spend some time together.” Passing her books to a walking Ravenclaw, she instructed them to leave them on the desk in the common room before turning to her sister. “Where to?”
Victoire jumped slightly at the sudden contact, as she did not hear anyone come in, but at the familiar sight of long ginger hair she spoke. “I know,” She slumped, drawing out her words. “I just have so much to do and I got a lot of it done so I feel like I should finish it.”
She did not want to finish it, but she wanted to be done. She looked up at Rose. “Do you happen to love Arithmancy and would enjoy doing the rest of these for me?” She held out her papers jokingly. “I need sleep, or sugar, or both.”
Rose made a face, scrunching up her nose as if she thought what Victoire said was particularly distasteful. “Ugh why do professors bog us down with so much homework? It’s not like we’re going to be doing homework out in the real world. We need practical applications for what we’re doing not writing out on parchment everything that could go wrong or right.”
“Are you kidding, Vic? I hate arithmancy.” She laughed before running a hand through her hair. “Though we could solve your sleep or sweets problem by taking a quick break and sneaking out of the castle…”
“I don’t know, Rose.” Victoire responded to her question about the professors. “It’s like they don’t talk to each other at all. And I like your reasoning. It’s like how we have to ask to go to the bathroom. Where are we every going to have to do that again?
A small smile crept up to her lips as she rolled up her parchment and left it tied to her book on the coffee table in front of them. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
“So, you do wandless magic?” She asked, not meaning to come off so surprised. It wasn’t that she was shocked Teddy could do it, but rather that someone she knew could pull it off. Victoire shifted her weight and handed her wand to him. “Ok, well, you know more than I do so, tell me what I need to do.”
“No,” Teddy chuckled. “doing is a bit of an exaggeration. I’m practicing. Working on it. Sometimes things happen, but they’re not exactly the things I want to happen. So you know…” Another chuckle escaped him, and he shook his head at all the memories of failed magic. “You know the things you just told me?” he asked, taking her wand before plopping down to sit on the ground. “I mean, the only thing that your wand does is channelling and concentrating your magic, it’s not making it any more powerful, not really. Words just call your magic, so if you use neither words nor a wand, you need to look for the very source of your magic. At least I think so. And what you said two minutes ago works pretty well with that theory, don’t you think?”
Victoire sighed. “Okay, I’ll see what I can do. You know me, I don’t ever back down from a challenge.”
She took a couple steps forward and rolled up her sleeves. Exhaling slowly, she decided what it was she wanted to try. After peering at the mirror plated wall, she then came to the decision that she was going to crack the glass. If she could, then she was going to try and mend it.
All the other times she’d done something like that on accident, it was emotionally based. That was where she would start. Victoire stood in the middle of the room, making her own blood boil by thinking of things that angered her. Now, she just had to direct that anger. Eyes pressed into thin slits by concentration, she leered at the glass in front of her.
It had been quite a while since Adira had seen the library bathed in daylight as it was now. As of late, she had taken to hiding away in its hallowed walls at night to do her school work, teach herself something new, or avoid her dormmates. As the latter was one she hadn’t been doing lately, it felt nice to come to her hideaway during the day and do a bit of light reading. She had already found two of the books she’d been searching for, A Guide to Advanced Occlumency by Maxwell Barnett and The Decline of Pagan Magic by Bathilda Bagshot, but she was finding it hard to find her third. “Pius, Irsis,” she murmured to herself, searching the bookstacks for the author’s name. “Come on, Pius.”
From the corner of the room, Victoire could hear someone about her age murmuring to themselves. She was able to make out a name from the girls words; it sounded familiar. Pursing her lips and turning one of the books she had in her hand over, she read what was engraved on the spine. Pius.
She only grabbed it for a bit of night time reading, and had several other books she would have most likely read first anyways. So she shrugged and followed the girl's voice.
"Hi," she greeted with a smile and a small wave, extending the book to her. "Is this what you were looking for? You can take it if you want it."
Customers were in and out of her aunt’s shop all the time, but people who came and went nearly just as fast were the workers. Every few weeks or so, when Victoire was caught up in her college courses and had a free weekend, she would venture ten minutes down the highway to work a shift or two at the flower shop. Working there over the summers of all her high school years and now sporadically into college, she couldn’t say how many bouquets and corsages she’d made, let alone how many times she’s accidentally poked her finger on a thorn or a pin.
When she opened the shop that Saturday, she never expected to have company. Most of the time it was just her in there. Her aunt would stop by later in the day to check up, and then go out for deliveries, but with the exception of a worker she knew wouldn’t be there there the next time she stopped in for a little extra cash, it was lonesome. Her aunt never told her that she officially hired a new girl to work the register. She never told her that she’d finally found someone who passed her ridiculous probationary expectations. So when there was a knock at the back door thirty minutes before the opening time, the girl was quite confused.
Victoire got up from her seat and unlocked the crooked hanging door to see a pretty girl holding a travel cup and looking half dazed by the earliness of the morning. She smiled at Victoire when their eyes met.
“Can I help you?” Victoire spoke slowly, still trying to process exactly this girl was doing in the back of their store.
“You can let me in.” She smiled, taking a step inside. Victoire moved out of her way, rose her eyebrows and shut the door behind her. She watched as the girl swung her bag on the desk and set her cup on top of the fridge, then reached around to grab an apron from the coat rack just around the corner of the wall. “I’m Faye, got picked up last week.”
“Oh, I wasn’t told we got someone else. I’m glad to have the help, that way I don’t have to do everything around here.” The taller of the two responded with a smile. She pulled her hand out of her pocket and offered it to Faye. “I’m-”
“Victoire? Yeah I know.” She shook her hand. “The boss talks about you, isn’t that you over there?”
Victoire took a moment to examine the photos over on the back wall even though she’d seen them several times before. “I’m in some of those, yeah.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet the girl who got an award at the county fair for one of the best bouquets.”
“I’m not sure what she told you, but I got honorable mention. I didn’t really win anything.” She said humbly.
“Well, it’s better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick.” After a moment of silence, Faye changed the subject. “I need you to use your key to open the cash drawer.”
Without a word, Victoire crouched near the desk and snaked her arm underneath it to grab the hidden drawer. Pulling a key ring from her pocket, she opened the lock and handed it to Faye. Faye walked out into the front of the store and disappeared from sight; but a few seconds later, she could hear the sound of the drawer being dropped into the machine. Despite only being there for a week, the new girl seemed quite comfortable in her position, so Victoire felt no remorse for staying in the back. She grabbed the order binder and read over the requests that needed filling for that day. There were several complex ones, but she exhaled loudly in relief to find there were no wedding or funeral preparations.
It was fairly slow in the morning, almost no one was in except for a few pick ups; Victoire didn’t even see anyone until noon.
She heard the transaction at the front, but from what she could tell, Faye had it handled. She’s a quick learner. Victoire thought. Also very good with people.
“Where is the bathroom?” The customer asked.
“Right down that hallway and to the right.” Faye replied.
The customer, a stout woman with dark hair, came walking passed Victoire as she was arranging her last bouquet of flowers. Victoire drew the curtain to close off her area as the woman closed and locked the bathroom door behind her. A few moments later, she could hear the hinges of the door creak as the woman re-opened the door. That wasn’t what startled her, what made her jump was the sudden swooshing sound of the curtain being ripped back. Looking up, she stared right into the woman’s face, who was a little too close for her liking.
“Can I help you with something?” Victoire offered politely, but clearly confused.
“Yes, I want my flowers.”
She sat thinking for a moment, then pointed at the receipt in the woman’s hand. “The receipt says when they will be ready. I haven’t even gotten the order from my co-worker yet.”
“Well, I want to watch you make them to see if you’re doing it right.” She insisted, stepping beyond the curtain and moving to stand beside the baffled blonde. “So, I’ll wait here.”
“Ma’am, I have some other orders I need to fill first. I’m going to need you to come back later when the receipt says. This is employees only, you’re not supposed to be back here.” She pointed at the large sign that was pasted on the curtain, the woman scoffed.
“Well, I’m here and they’re not. So, make mine first, that way I can go home.”
Victoire tried to think. She tried to find the best option to get the woman out of the store, and how to do it without potentially hurting her aunt’s business reputation. Fuck off, you’re no more important than anyone else and get out were off the table, even though she knew she probably wouldn’t be fired if she were to say that, given she was family. I can’t set that example for Faye. She thought, but then found she didn’t need to set an example at all.
“Hi,” A chipper voice came from around the corner, and the smaller blonde popped to Victoire’s rescue seemingly out of nowhere. “Are we having some trouble back here?”
“I’m just waiting.” The woman said dryly.
“Well, making a bouquet like what you ordered is really complicated, and we have to hand select our flowers from the stock. So it is quite a long process. It could take 5 hours at the least. I saw on your receipt that you live close by. How about we get started on it and we’ll call you as soon as it’s done? Okay?” Faye smiled.
None of that was true, it would take 2 hours at the most, but the woman nodded with a scoff and headed back out the door frame to the exit. The second the woman disappeared from view, Faye’s smile flipped and she rolled her eyes.
“My hero, bless you.” Victoire smiled in appreciation.
“No problem, I hate people like that.” She responded, shaking her head. Faye reached behind her and untied her apron to hang it on a hook. “I closed us up for lunch. I thought it would be a good time for me to go over her order with you; it’s pretty bizarre.”
Together, the girls sat and ate their packed lunches and discussed the elements of the complicated order they received from the very complicated woman. After they were done, they spent their time looking through their stock and laughing at the funny sounding names of all the plants. Throughout the day they would exchanged amused glances when customers tried to pronounce the same flowers they were laughing at earlier, and Faye even came up with the idea to write the different variations of the sayings on the decades old whiteboard behind the door that hadn’t been used in over five years.
Victoire was still shocked that her aunt finally found a worker who met her standards as an employee, but she was glad she did.
Victoire flared her nostrils and rose her eyebrows at his description of their classmate. She closed the notebook and placed it back in her bag. “Feel free to get back to me when you can.” She said, looking back up at him. “But I mean, if you have a date with the Hufflepuff with the-” She mimicked his description of the girl, “then I promise I won’t be offended.”
“A date?” James wrinkled his nose at that, shaking his head. “Nah, she’s more a broom cupboard, empty classroom sort of girl for me. Dates, no those are reserved for girls that check the boxes,” he informed, kicking his legs out further as he slouched, arms over his chest, and made himself a bit more comfortable on the bench. Even if he was talking to his cousin, and to others this subject was taboo around family, James didn’t have any shame.
"Check the boxes?" She quoted, laughing. "You've got a check list as to who is worthy of a date?"
She admired James openness about the subject, and loved that shameless part of his personality. She secretly wished she could be as comfortable talking about her personal life as he was.
"It's sort of amusing when you put it like that. Then again, I guess we all have some sort of criteria, don't we?"
