A/N: Voila! Here is my entry for Fanfic Idol Round 3: First near-death experience. Special thanks to ParadoxicallyRandom for her valuable contribution!
"Can I tell you a secret?" Victoire asked. They were both standing at the edge of the Weasley's pond, or rather, the pond in the forest behind the Burrow that the Weasleys had unofficially adopted.
Ted looked up from where he was drawing pictures in the snow with a stick. The dimming light made it difficult to see. "Sure." he mumbled absentmindedly. He was beginning to get tired of Victoire. He'd been going to Hogwarts for two years now, and he had his own friends. Victoire was becoming somewhat of a rather annoying little sister to him these days. "Tell me."
She bit her lip nervously and looked up at him. "I can't swim." Ted half-glanced at her before bursting into laughter. "Vicky, that's not exactly a secret. I know you can't. Everyone knows you can't," Disparaging her made him feel a little better. "Don't be silly."
She dug deeper into the snow with the toe of her brand-new skates. "The secret is...I'm afraid to go skating because...well..." she looked down and mumbled something into the thick woolen scarf that Gram insisted she wear.
"What?" Ted asked with mild interest. "Isn't it because of what happened to Ellen?" Ellen was one of Victoires' Muggle friends whose finger had been cut pretty badly when one of the rowdier village boys had skated over it carelessly. It had made quite the scene.
Victoire shook her head, "I'm scared of the water, Ted. What happens i-if the ice cracks? And I drown? Like you said, everyone knows I can't swim." He detected a hint of hostility in her tone. Well, he probably deserved it.
"C'mon Vic. The ice's thick." Still facing her, he took a couple of steps backward until he was standing on the edge of the pond. He jumped a couple of times on the ice and smirked when Victoire gasped at his bravado.
"Still standing!" he yelled, waving his arms above his head with a hint of lunacy. This actually felt quite good: jumping on ice without skates. He let out a whoop as he ran back onto the snow.
He grabbed Victoire's wrist. "C'mon Vic, I promise nothing's going to happen. C'mon! It's so much fun!"
She didn't give in, but let him drag her to the ice nonetheless, although that was probably the product of her happiness at the fact that he was treating her just like old times. He looked odd today, she thought, a blend of colors. Not like it was much different from other days. Turquoise stickity-uppity hair nearing the collar of his tan coat and flopping into his eyes-were they grey today? And his darkish jeans and his flapping red scarf-all of it made him look somewhat of a walking rainbow in the white-grey-black landscape surrounding them.
He led her towards the middle of the pond, steadying her the few times she slipped; the blades made them nearly the same height. His demeanor had changed completely in the past few minutes. There was no trace of boredom or hostility in his actions-somehow the walking-on-ice had made him daring, and she found herself being led to the very center of the pond.
"Ted, no listen, the ice is thinnest here, Daddy said so-"
"Victoire, just have a bit of fun now and then, alright? Look, nothing is going to happen." He smiled his crazy wacky crooked grin and did a little jig on the ice, waving his arms here and there, making her giggle.
He helped her twirl and do little tricks on the ice, and in no time she was feeling at home right there in the freezing air, in the dark, with her hands kept warm in between Ted's; she would have loved to stay there forever and ever.
It happened after a jump. They were holding hands, and Ted leaped and she followed his lead. Except this time, instead of hearing a dull thump upon their landing, a sickening crack could be heard reverberating through the quiet night air.
She saw Ted widening his eyes in alarm and a slight pain in her wrists as he clenched his hands tightly around hers. And the next moment she was falling, falling through night and day and stars were bursting into color all around her...and then a remarkable cold was surrounding her, leaving her empty of every emotion but fear; it was black and it was swallowing her up, eating her, consuming her-she would never see Maman or Daddy or Dom or little Louis or Ted ever again. This was the end, finished, fini. She was going to die-her nightmare had come horribly true. She said a quick prayer to any deity that happened to be listening-if you are listening, don't let me die, please. And let Ted make it out safely. Please.
Her eyes popped open into the icy void. She couldn't feel her legs but somehow they were still kicking. He arms were flapping uselessly, almost, the ends of her hands free of Ted's.
She saw something move out of the tail of her eye. A dark shape, coming behind her. It grabbed her waist, holding her to it. Mustering all her remaining energy, she turned to it, intending to kick it away. If nothing else, she wanted to die alone, at peace.
Instead, she saw a flash of scarlet and turquoise bobbing up and down in front of her. She felt immeasurable relief at the sight of her oldest and best friend. He seemed calm, more in control. He was waving his hands, trying to tell her something, but the darkness and continuous bubbles made it difficult to see clearly.
Her lungs were burning with the need to inhale. She released the last of the oxygen in her lungs, producing a flurry of bubbles, and prepared to inspire. Ted saw what she was doing and immediately leapt forward, clapping his hand across her nose and mouth. He was making her horribly breathless. She struggled against him violently-what is he trying to do-can't he see I need to breathe? I'm going to DIE, Ted, I'm going to DIE if I don't breathe!
Black was creeping in the corners of her eyes...and now she couldn't see any longer. Perhaps she was even crying-it didn't matter. She was dead.
Ted felt her body go limp against his. Panic seized his heart. She-they couldn't die now! He told her not to breathe; he didn't know how much longer he himself could hold up.
He pulled Victoire against him and attempted to haul her up. If he could just get her onto the ice everything would be okay, he kept telling himself.
He hooked his thumb into the hanging loop in the collar of her coat and proceeded upwards. The fact that there was no current eased the burden slightly. He kicked slowly, his remaining energy depleting rapidly.
He was going to die. And he was such a pathetic friend-he wasn't even able to save Vicky. Vicky, whom he had treated horribly these past few weeks, something he now bitterly regretted. She would never see Hogwarts, never buy a wand or new school robes-and it was all. his. fault.
Memories flashed; he had thrust his wand into his boot after Harry had told him he would be spending the day at the Burrow. Hoping beyond hope it hadn't floated away, he thrust his fist down and groped for the thin wooden stick. When his fingers closed around the familiar engraved handle, he felt so happy he could've cried. He probably did.
The spell "Ascendio" first came to mind; he wasn't sure if he knew that because he overheard one of Harry's conversations with Ron or because it was taught to them in school-at the moment, all it mattered was that he knew it and they weren't going to die. He raised his wand as far up as his arm would reach and opened his mouth to utter the spell.
Water rushed in, and he desperately clamped his mouth shut again. Ascendio! ascendio! he thought with all his might. Spots of black were beginning to appear in his line of vision and he knew he wasn't going to last too long.
Suddenly he felt himself move, and not of his own accord. Water was rushing all around them, reaching under them to propel them forward. He was going higher, and higher, still clutching onto Vic's collar loop.
The wave threw them onto the ice facedown-Ted looked up and saw he was on the edge of the snow. He gulped lungful after lungful of fresh, cold, air, relishing in the burning sensation left behind. He could breathe.
He turned to Vic, whose lips were an unnatural shade of purple; her hair was nearly frozen together with little icicles dripping from her bangs. The sight made his stomach twist painfully. Please let her be okay, it's my fault if she's dead, it's my fault if she dies, please please please let her be alright.
He was crying for sure now, the tears rolling down his already-wet face, making salty tracks on his cheeks. She couldn't be dead. Not her. Not now. He wiped a soaked sleeve under his running nose and kneeled next to her, his vision blurring with the tears that wouldn't cease. He grasped Victoire's wrist and felt for a pulse.
After a few minutes, he felt a very faint beat under his fingertips. His heart seemed to soar and a huge weight was lifted off his shoulders. She's ALIVE! Not dead! He felt renewed with energy as he dragged her onto the snow and removed his coat to place under her head. Gently, he shook her shoulder. "Victoire, Vic, get up! Wake up, Vic, wake up wake up!" More tears came, flooding his thoughts. "C'mon, wake up!" He shook her shoulder repeatedly, more to convince himself she was alive than anything. "Getup!" he said weakly with a sob. "Please." Ted hung his head in shame and embarrassment, fear, any emotion that was coursing his veins, he let it pour out.
With a start, he realized his hands were shaking quite badly. His wand quivered in his unstable grip and his teeth chattered madly, producing the only noise in earshot. Maybe it was the cold, maybe it was the fear; Ted couldn't tell and he didn't care. All he knew was that if he didn't do something soon, they both would die.
Hastily casting a few heating charms over her, he got to his feet, clumsily making his way to the Burrow.
He tripped and stumbled over himself more times than he could count; the cold was biting almost painfully into his skin; the waterlogged clothing seemed to weigh him down and he was sorely tempted to just strip and leave everything behind.
Cumbersome and breathless, he burst into the backdoor of the Burrow a mere twenty minutes later, although it seemed like an eternity had passed. He was just catching his breath when he heard a familiar voice.
"Mum! Mum, are you there? I've got the shopping! Hello? Where the devil did everyone go...hey there mate-bloody hell, Teddy, what happened to you?" Ron Weasley set down the million-and-one packages he had just carried in. "What's wrong?"
Ted waved his hands frantically. "Ice...fell...Vic..pond," he wheezed. Unable to talk any longer, he pointed in the general direction of the pond.
After five years of being married to Hermione, who never talked in full sentences when she had a particularly brilliant idea (which seemed to be every other day) Ron somehow seemed to understand and lunged for the door, yelling explicit instructions for Ted not to move. Exactly four seconds later, the door flew open as Ron ran back in, grabbed his wand, and headed out again. Ted couldn't suppress a snort of laughter. The knowledge of Victoire and her situation sobered him up and he ran after Ron, cursing his frozen brain.
They met halfway, Ron carrying Victoire wrapped in his coat and Ted hoping against hope she was quite alright.
"She'll be just fine," Ron gently told Ted in response to his unasked inquiry.
Together they made their way to the Burrow in swift silence, their shoes crunching solemnly in the glittering, powdery snow.
Later, over cups of steaming hot chocolate and sugary biscuits, Victoire decided she liked to be saved by Teddy. She liked it a whole lot.