QLFC Round 8 (Finals)
Prompt: Dominique Weasley
Optional Prompts: 3) Diary 5) stubborn
French Grammar Nazi: Moka-girl
Beta Love: fluffpanda
Random snake in the grass: Serpentine
Un Panier Plein de Coquillages
The sun was just coming out over the ocean surf near Shell Cottage when Fleur Weasley looked out the kitchen window to see a gentle splash, her youngest daughter having entered the rising and falling surf. She would plunge into the waves like a diving porpoise, and would surface many minutes after.
Fleur smiled warmly. Of all of her children, Dominique seemed to have embraced her Veela genetics the most, and if the bright silvery-blond hair, dark blue eyes, and the skin that never seemed to tan no matter how much sun she was exposed to wasn't enough, there was also the almost imperceptible webbing between her daughter's digits and her ability to hold her breath when swimming far, far longer than most untrained free-divers.
While Fleur knew that it wasn't her hair or eyes that had tipped off the genetic hints, as not all Veela were fair-haired and blue-eyed, but it was something inherent to her family's Veela bloodline, stemming from her Grandmother. It was actually more normal for children to show no signs at all of their heritage until a very strong surge of teenage hormones coupled with equally strong emotion brought out the transformation and the child found themselves sporting bird-like heads, scales, or self-immolating hands. The chances of Dominique having enough of the blood in her to have such a gift was slim. As for Dominique, the only thing that she had confessed sadness over was that she wouldn't get a pair of wings so she could fly like a seagull.
Children always had such amusing outlooks on life. Their priorities were not about how freakish they would look in a human world but whether or not they had wings to fly. Flying was obviously much more important than the stigma of not being entirely human. They were still too young to truly understand prejudice, but Bill had told her that they were raising all of their children right. Eventually, The children would enter Hogwarts with sharp and open minds, knowing the difference between truth and prejudice, and be close enough to know that their family loved them no matter what. That was, she admitted to herself, what really mattered.
Fleur let herself out the door and walked out onto the beach, enjoying the feel of the sand between her toes and the moisture of the sea between the grains. The smell of the sea was also comforting, and she was glad that Bill had agreed that this was the perfect place to raise their children, rather than inland. The sea had always been comforting, and it seemed her daughter was no stranger to its allure.
Fleur, herself, had not been so attached to the sea as her daughter, even though she had more of the Veela blood in her. Her failure at the Tri-Wizarding Tournament's Second Trial had proved that. She was not an overly strong swimmer, but instead took after her grandmother's stubborn streak that was notoriously spoken about at family gatherings.
Her grandmother had gifted her the old diaries she had kept in her youth about dealing with the Change and being Veela, as well has the powers that came with it. It had been her way of ensuring that her line did not end in ignorance. Fleur had kept it and was allowing all of her children to read it in case they did deal with some of the aspects of being partially Veela. The truth was, none of them could be sure what would happen until they had a really strong emotional surge during puberty. That was, thankfully, quite a while off.
Fleur waded into the water and bumped into a floating basket that Dominique had dragged out with her. Within seconds, her daughter surfaced, spouting water. She tossed a shell into the basket, and dove back under, ignoring her mother completely.
Stubborn and focused, just like her grandmother. Thankfully, Circe be praised, she did not have the same wild and fiery temper. Even her twos had been peaceful, unlike her sister's, which had made it quite clear where their great grandmother's temper had gone.
Victoire was the wilful and prideful child, Dominique the sublime and patient, and Louis seemed undecided on which path to take, having seemingly chosen the artistry of diplomacy when dealing with his two elder sisters. Bill had said that it was probably best, seeing as he was outnumbered by estrogen three to one.
Fleur looked into the basket and saw quite a few pristine shells. Some were iridescent, some were spotted, and some a combination of both. Dominique had quite a collection of shells back in her room, and she was using them to decorate her walls. Only Dominique seemed to know which ones were perfect for her purpose, and only she could place them in just the right place. Both of her siblings had learned that the hard way.
Dominique sprung from the water behind her and clung to Fleur's back with a squeal of delight, causing Fleur to laugh joyously.
"Bonjour, mum!" she purred in a perfect blending of French and English.
"Bonjour, ma chouchou," Fleur replied, reaching back to ruffle her daughter's wet hair with her hands. "Tu nage très bien, mon petit poisson. Bien mieux que ton frère et ta grande sœur."
"Tu le pense vraiment?" Dominique whispered into her ear, clinging to her body like an urchin upon a rock.
Fleur chuckled at her daughter's almost desperate need to know if her mother really meant it. "J'en suis sure," Fleur said with a smile in her voice. Of course she thought so. She was her mother. It was her job to know such things.
Dominique giggled happily, having always loved her mother's nickname of 'my little fish,' as well as being told she was finally better at something that neither her brother or sister was: swimming.
"I have more shells for the wall!" Dominique chattered excitedly.
"I noticed," Fleur said with a smile, grabbing the basket as she slowly trudged back to the shore with her sea urchin clinging to her back.
"I'm going to cover the whole room with them, mother," Dominique said proudly, "so, when I leave for Hogwarts you can go into my room and think of me when you see the shells."
Fleur's eyes watered slightly at the thought of her daughter leaving for school, even though it was years off. "There is no way I could ever stop thinking of you, my daughter," she confessed truthfully.
"I'm going to do it," Dominique said stubbornly, "just to be sure."
"Bien sûr," Fleur acquiesced. "Do you wish to help me make breakfast? You kept your father up all night with your chatter. It is the least you could do."
Dominique patted her mother on the shoulders and clung to her even harder. "Okay!"
Fleur chuckled, happy that her daughter's stubbornness did not make her any less agreeable when the situation required it.
"Mum, can I dive for mussels tonight, so we can make les moules marinière?"
"If you wish it," Fleur agreed, smiling as her daughter wiggled against her back and snuggled into her.
"I love you, mum," Dominique said into her mother's hair.
Fleur felt her heart warm with pride and love. "Je t'aime aussi, mon petit poisson."
Dominique's small arms wrapped tightly around her mother's neck as Fleur raced back up the beach to the house with the basket full of shells cradled in one hand.
It was a basket full of shells. To be more precise, it was a basket full of memories, and one day, Fleur would look upon her daughter's completed wall, press her fingers to the shells lining it, and think back on this very moment with nothing but the greatest of love.
It was the heartfelt love of a daughter of the sea and the mother who loved her back with equal ferocity. It was a dream that had become reality.
A/N: French translations for those of you who slammed into it and tripped. (heh. sorry about that.)
Un panier plein de coquillages = a basket full of shells
Tu nage très bien, mon petit poisson. Bien mieux que ton frère et ta grande sœur. = You swim very well, my little fish. Far better than your brother and your older sister.
Tu le pense vraiment? = Do you really think so?
J'en suis sure = I am sure.
Je t'aime aussi, mon petit poisson. = I love you too, my little fish.