We're sleeping in the morgue.
- Epilogue by the Antlers.
"Teddy." His name is on her lips, he can hear it. She wants to say it. But she can't. Why can't she?'
"Vic," he says aloud. She's light, pale, beautiful against his bedroom wall. Her hair falls around her. Hair he used to tangle his hands in, press his nose into. Hair he will never smell again. Never touch again. "Victoire," he says. But she doesn't see him.
"I miss you, Teddy."
She speaks. Her voice is like the summer rain, like a wisp of smoke. It echoes around him, so distantly, so tangible.
"I miss you, Vic."
She turns. She looks. She sees. But she doesn't react. She just looks. He soaks her up. Her lips. Her eyes. Her nose. Her ears. Her hair. Her body. "I miss you, Vic," he says again. And she moves. She's so real, so solid. He could reach out and touch her. But he doesn't. She's too fragile.
She reaches up, and sits on his bed, right beside where his feet lie. The bed moves under her weight. He can't take his eyes off her. He can't blink. He makes bets with himself while she stares him down wordlessly. If he blinks, she'll go. If he breathes, she'll go.
He reaches up his hand, and gently touches her cheek. It's as soft as he thought it would be, as soft as it used to be. She doesn't disappear. She doesn't react. She just stares, and he runs his hand through her hair. It's soft, like the wing of a bird. It falls the way it would have before. He leans closer, and examines her with his hands. She closes her eyes, falling into his touch. He wants to fall into hers, but she doesn't touch him.
There are no scars on her. No marks, no bumps. She's perfect. He lifts up her shirt, and the cotton is so soft under his hand, so light. It was what she wore when it happened. He looks at her stomach, but there's no mark, no scar. Almost like the spell hadn't hit her at all.
But it had. It had, and that's why she's so fragile. Why he's so sure that she was going to disappear. Because this couldn't be real.
Five more minutes, he bargains in his head. Five more minutes, and I'll come out of my room, like Harry wants me to.
Her lips are so soft and round, and unmoving. The last time he saw them, they were blue and cold. Her eyes are still soft as they looked into his. So real. But there's something empty in them.
"Can I kiss you, Vic?" he whispers. She blinks, and runs her fingers through her hair, and the overwhelming need to kiss her, to be back the way things were before, is so real that he reaches over and pecks her lips. They're soft and warm and exactly as he remembers them, exactly how they were before. He pulls back fearfully, but she's still there, still staring at him. "I love you Vic." She nods. "Stay with me, Vic. Don't leave me. I couldn't take it if you left me too." She nods again. He grabs her hand. It's smooth and soft and everything he needs and he's overcome with emotion. He squeezes, and watches her, but she doesn't squeeze back.
And suddenly, she's gone, as though someone had thrown an invisibility cloak over her. Teddy stares in horror. His hand is empty. He shuts his eyes, willing her back, begging her back.
"Teddy," someone says. He opens them again. It's lighter; it had been so dark before. James is standing in front of him, holding a candle, looking terrified. "You were shouting."
Teddy rubs his eyes and stares around the room. It's the same as always. James is the only one there. "Yeah, sorry buddy," he mumbles. "Go back to bed."
He rolls over and stares at the blank wall he had just seen her against, so real. He should've known.
She's with you now, Mum and Dad, he thinks as his face crumbles and hot tears stream down his eyes. Take care of her.