[Author's Note] This story was written for lilgenius as part of the Gift Giving Extravaganza, for the month of April! I'm sorry this fic is cutting it so close, and I'm also sorry that Fleur-centric was last in your list of request, but it was the one that spoke to me most. I hope you enjoy it.
Heavily inspired by the song "Mistral Gagnant" by Renaud—my favorite song and alarm clock song, hehe /insertheartsymbolhere/
I hope I did it even an iota of justice…
Warnings: memories of death, but nothing explicit.
Please, if you review, have an account with PMs enabled so I can reply!
Thanks, luvsanime02, as always.[/end Author's note]
The first time Fleur took Teddy with her to France was the year after he was born. Bill had to work and couldn't take the time off, Gabrielle had decided not to return home for the spring break, and when Fleur went to pay Andromeda a visit, she saw how drained the other woman looked, with dark purple bags under her eyes. The request had slipped from Fleur's lips before she could really think about it, but the truth of the matter was Fleur hadn't wanted to go alone.
Ever since the war, Fleur had done everything she could to stay busy. Every time she stopped to rest, the last battle came back to her in flashes—so much gore, so much screaming. Already, she could barely sleep. Oftentimes, in the mornings, she felt more exhausted than when she'd laid down for the night. When not at work, she kept herself busy scrubbing every corner of the house, organizing the attic and cooking elaborate meals that took two days to prepare. However, Fleur knew that her mother would never allow her to work while on 'holiday,' and Fleur feared the leisure time would drive her to madness.
She proposed to take Teddy off of Andromeda's hands for pure selfish interests.
That day, without realizing or intending it, Fleur began a long-standing tradition.
This is how she finds herself, seven years later, walking down the steep slope to the beach, Teddy at her side and Victoire already waiting for them at the bottom. Her daughter turns to look at the crashing waves only a few feet ahead of them, and Fleur can see a dark spot on her Victoire's dress where she slid down the slope.
"Victoire, wait for us; don't" —but Victoire's already running off toward the shoreline—"get too close to the water," Fleur finishes with a sigh of defeat.
Fleur holds Teddy's small fingers in her hand, careful not to misstep and send them both tumbling. Ahead of them, Victoire runs toward the ocean as the waves come crashing down, and then runs away as the water runs up the beach. The wind carries her shrieking laughter over to them; Fleur can feel the happy sound wrap around her neck like a soft, warm shroud.
The wind also brings the ocean's salt to settle on her skin—Fleur licks the taste from her lips: a sapid reminder of her childhood—and she knows her hair will smell like the ocean for days. She never wants to rinse the smell off of her when she returns home.
This is where she grew up.
"When I was a child a little older than yourself, I'd come down here with my friends," Fleur tells Teddy. She's told him so many stories of her childhood over the years, but he's still at that age where he won't call her out for being a broken record of lost glory days. "We'd head into town to buy these Muggle candies, mistral gagnants, and then come to the beach and take off our shoes and socks and eat the candy while our feet soaked in the water. The mistral gagnants candies sometimes held a prize. If you won, you got another one for free if you brought in the winning ticket. So we'd tear open our candies and eat through them as fast we could, just to see if we'd won. And if one us was the winner, we'd put our sock and shoes back on, our feet still wet and cold, and we'd run back to the store as fast as we could to get that one free candy."
Fleur grins at the sudden memory. She's sure she hasn't told Teddy this story before. She's only just remembered it herself: a forgotten treasure inside of her mind.
"Can I have some?"
Fleur looks down at Teddy. He's grown into a pensive-looking child, with green eyes so wide he looks like he's seriously contemplating everything he looks at. When he turns his gaze on her, Fleur's stomach drops gradually as she remembers, now, why she'd buried away that memory.
"I'm afraid not, mon chou. They don't make those candies anymore. One day, we showed up at the store and the manager told us production had stopped and they'd deleted their stock. We were heartbroken. I think that was the last day we came to the beach as a group."
"They're not around anymore?"
"No, I'm afraid not, chou."
"Just like my mummy?"
Instinctively, Fleur tightens her hold on Teddy's hand. A flash of Tonks's immobile body stops her dead in her tracks. Fleur doesn't care what people say; a dead person does not look like they're sleeping, and they most certainly do not look peaceful. A body should never be so still.
"What?" Fleur whispers finally, her voice nothing but a forced hiss she's so rattled. She's vaguely aware that she should be keeping an eye on Victoire, but at the moment she's nailed in place by Teddy's flittering eyes. He brings a hand up to his mouth and starts gnawing on his fingernails.
"Mummy. Grandmother says she's dead, that she's not longer around."
"That's right." Fleur slowly regains control on her motor functions. Gently, she steers Teddy's hand away from his mouth. He's never asked her about his mother before. It's hard to think that he's growing up, and that his mind is starting to travel in those directions. He still looks so young to her.
"Maman! Regarde-moi!" Up ahead, Victoire shows off a broken cartwheel in the sand.
"C'est bien, ma chérie. Don't get too close to the waves!"
"When I ask Grandmother about my mum, she tries to speak, but then she shakes and sometimes leaves the room."
Fleur pulls Teddy closer against her side, letting go of his hand and putting her arm around his shoulders instead. It has been eight years since the war—a blink of an eye in terms of human history, and apparently in terms of human healing as well. Bill still falls silent every time he sees a picture of Fred, grinning and laughing, at the Burrow, and Fleur has seen Molly weep as uncontrollably on the anniversary of her son's death as she did on the day that he died.
Years may pass, lives may go on, but the wounds never really heal. Just the thought of anything happening to Victoire causes Fleur's chest to physically ache and her whole body to grow weak; she can only imagine the physical and psychological pain of losing her child forever.
"I knew your mother," Fleur finally says, trying to find the proper words to explain the war to such a young and innocent soul. "She was brave and kind, and funny…" Fleur's throat tightens, and she has to clear it before continuing. "And she was a metamorphmagus."
"Like me!" Teddy exclaims, and laughs. When he grins, Fleur sees the gaps where he has recently lost some teeth. He proudly showed them to her when she picked him up for the holiday. Apparently, Andromeda doesn't believe in the tooth fairy, and instead she keeps them in a jar in her study; they're very useful in certain potions, she'd told Fleur when Teddy had run off to get his bag.
"Yes, like you. And she was a powerful witch. She was an Auror, you know…" Fleur trails off as her mind wanders back into the past. They had never been particularly close, but as Fleur thinks back on the few things she knows about Tonks, an unexpected and soft feeling of tenderness settles inside of her. She smiles softly down at Teddy. "And she had the biggest heart of anyone I've ever met, your mother. She married your father, ignoring what anyone else said."
"Why, what was wrong with my dad?"
Realizing her mistake—no one must have told him about Remus's lycanthropy—Fleur falters. "Well—well, he wasn't considered an attractive man by most, is all. He had many scars on his face—you've seen the pictures of him."
Teddy nods. "Just like Uncle Bill's!"
Fleur smiles. "That's right. And just like your uncle, your father's scars were proof of how brave he was. He was one of the bravest men I've met, actually."
"Why don't you have scars then?"
Fleur laughs. "Oh, I do, chou; I certainly do. But mine aren't visible like Uncle Bill's and your father's. Still, we all have them, and we carry them around inside of us."
A loud crack from behind them startles Fleur. She whips around, pushing Teddy behind her, instinct directing her hand to her wand. But she'd recognize that long hair anywhere.
"I knew I'd found you here," Gabrielle laughs, and slows to a walk as she nears them. She'd Apparated only a short distance away, then jogged closer, and now she pants slightly to catch her breath.
"Teddy-boy! How you've grown. Come give your Aunt Gaby a big hug." Gabrielle doesn't wait for Teddy to step near, but pulls him into a hug and then kisses his cheek.
"Aunt Gaby!" Fleur turns at the sound of her daughter's voice. Her entire dress is caked in mud from where she's been playing by the water. "Look what I've found." She holds out her hand to show her aunt pebbles she's dug out from the sand.
"Wow, a real treasure hunter. Come here, you!" Gabrielle doesn't even mind the muddy mess that is Victoire; she picks her right up and covers her cheeks with kisses.
"Now, what's this, Teddy, you're all clean?" Gabrielle puts her hands on her hips. "That is completely unacceptable."
"Let's go chase seagulls!" Victoire cries out, already reaching up for Gabrielle's hand. She closes her small fingers around two of Gabrielle's and starts pulling her toward the clusters of birds scattered around the beach.
"Come on, Teddy!" Gabrielle calls over her shoulder.
Fleur takes Teddy's hand in hers and that's all the motivation he needs. Hand in hand, they race down the beach after Victoire and Gabrielle to terrorize the poor, unsuspecting seagulls.
Victoire runs at them with arms open wide, roaring like a monster as she approaches. It doesn't take Teddy long to warm up to the game, and soon he lets go of Fleur's hand and races ahead to join Victoire. Fleur slows to a stop after the third cluster of seagulls, breathing hard. It's been a long time since she's had this much exercise.
"You used to be in better shape than this." Gabrielle laughs from behind Fleur. Fleur grins and straightens out, a hand still on her side where a cramp has formed. The kids are still running around, both laughing now.
"Teddy was asking a lot of questions about his mother earlier," Fleur says. "It's nice to see him carefree and laughing again."
"He is getting to that age where he's getting curious. I honestly can't believe Andromeda hasn't told him more about his parents."
Fleur swallows thickly. "It's not that easy to talk about…"
Fleur can feel her sister's eyes on her and she looks away toward the sea. Tears gather behind her eyes when Gabrielle steps in close and wraps an arm around one of hers.
"I'm sorry," she whispers.
"Don't be," Gabrielle hisses. "That was a stupid thing for me to say."
"You know, Bill and I named Victoire after our victory in the last battle."
"I know," Gabrielle says softly, but Fleur shakes her head.
"We wanted to focus on the big picture, that we'd won and things would be better from now on … But I wonder if we made the right choice. All victories come at a price and now her name is a constant reminder of what we've lost."
Fleur feels her nose close off, and she has to open her mouth to breathe as she feels the tears finally start to slip from her eyes.
"Oh, Fleur—you honored those who sacrificed their lives for a better world. You and Bill have made sure that they'll never be forgotten."
Fleur laughs and wipes the tears from her eyes. She can't let the kids see her like this. Teddy appeared shaken enough as it was earlier this morning. "I'm sorry." She tries to smile at her sister, but her lips feel stiff and uncooperative. She feels silly, all of a sudden, and embarrassed for ruining Gabrielle's good mood. Fleur doesn't even know what she's apologizing for, not really.
Gabrielle's stare is intense but Fleur can't read the emotions behind her sister's eyes in the least. Eventually, Gabrielle leans in and presses a small but firm kiss on Fleur's cheek; when she pulls back, she smiles softly and steps forward. Fleur lets herself follow the momentum.
"Shall I tell you a bit about me, then?" Gabrielle says. Fleur knows she's trying to lighten the mood, and is grateful to her for it. Victoire has grown bored of pretending to kick seagulls and has instead, somehow, convinced Teddy to help her dig around the sand for more polished rocks.
"Please do, yes."
"Well, I've been invited to that dueling convention in London next month."
"No way? Gabrielle, that's amazing!"
Gabrielle laughs. "I know! So, I was thinking that maybe I could come stay with you and Bill. It's just one week. Think you'll be able to put up with me for that long?"
Fleur rolls her eyes. "It'll be hard, but I think we'll manage not to murder each other." She laughs. "Victoire will be thrilled."
While the kids are enthusiastically digging for treasures, Fleur conjures up a blanket and she and Gabrielle sit facing the ocean. They talk about Bill, about Gabrielle's latest failed romance and about their parents—their father's deteriorating health and their mother's anxiety. Fleur thinks that maybe soon she'll ask her parents to come and live with them at Shell Cottage.
Eventually, Victoire and Teddy grow tired of their game and trudge over to them, hand in hand.
Victoire's dress pockets bulge with her prized pebbles, and Fleur suppresses a laugh thinking about the fight it's going to be this time to get Victoire to part with them. She takes her daughter by the waist and pulls her down onto her lap. She buries her nose in her neck and blows a loud raspberry, causing Victoire to shriek with laughter and try to squirm out of her hold. But Fleur has her in her grip and won't let go.
Eventually, Fleur lets her up, and Victoire scrambles out of her torturer's arms and into Gabrielle's. Fleur can't believe how big her daughter has gotten. And Teddy is already eight years old. It feels like no more than a few days ago when she brought baby Teddy here for the first time, holding his arms as he took his first wobbly steps in the sand.
One day, Victoire will be bringing her own children to this beach, telling them of past childhood memories and the treats Fleur sometimes buys them from the shops. Who knows, maybe in twenty years' time there won't be any more ice mice, or those Nerds Muggle candies Victoire is so fond of. They'll be lost to time like those mistral gagnants Fleur loved so much, and like the countless heroes who sacrificed their lives for the freedom of the next generation.
"Mummy, I'm getting cold." Victoire sticks out her bottom lip as she turns head and wide blue eyes towards Fleur. "Can we go home soon?"
Fleur smiles softly. It is getting a bit chilly, but she's reluctant to leave. "We'll go soon," she says, smiling over at her daughter and then down at Teddy, who's put his head in her lap. "Let's just spend another five minutes here together."
Goodness knows this moment will be gone too soon.