notes: this is written for my friend Mad (chasingafterstarlight's) birthday. Have a great day, and happy birthday, Mad! You're amazing and I love you!
where trouble melts like lemon drops,
away above the chimney tops, that's where you'll find me
Somewhere Over the Rainbow ; Judy Garland
Victoire wraps her arms around her legs as the wind plays with her hair. She buries her nose in her power-blue scarf, smelling faint traces of leftover perfume. The softness feels good against her skin, as does the cool summer air. The last traces of the sun are visible in the night sky, the mauve purple blending to bright pink slowing slipping into orange mixed with yellows, and above she sees painted inky sky.
The roof's shingles are rough as she leans her hands behind her, but it feels good all the same – solid, strong. Below her, she hears the tide of the ocean rolling in and rolling out, and she can just make out glimmering midnight waves from her seat two stories above the sea.
She has half a mind to go sit on the beach, but she decides this is much more peaceful. The sun takes one more breath and vanishes, and the moon rises up for it's turn to shine. Stars are littered messily along the skyline, now, all coming out together. Tonight there is no such thing as first star I see tonight. Perhaps the clock will skip straight over eleven ten to eleven twelve, she thinks, and no children will blow out birthday candles tonight, there will be no such thing as wishing.
Victoire knows this is a foolish thought.
In her moments alone, she wonders it's all worth it. If wishing, if believing, if taking breath is worth it, if survival and heartbreak and aching and longing is really just a long, yellowed road with a dead end. If all this is no test of fate, but insignificance, where people can't reach out to one another and share life, instead fight for life on their own, and grow smaller in their tiny world.
In her moments alone, she wonders if she'll make a difference being here, or when she's gone, her footprints will be built on sand that was away with the tide.
She hears soft footsteps on the roof and turns around to find Teddy heading her direction, trying not to lose is balance. In his hand is a silver glass of pink foam, and he hands her the cool glass when he reaches her.
"A strawberry milkshake for the princess," he jokes. She accepts it gratefully, taking a sip from the red and white lined straw. He lowers himself next to her, and she continues to let her thoughts wander and weave in the night air filled with silence – save for the muffled voices of her family's graduating party for her sister, James, and Fred.
"What're you thinking of?" Teddy asks, playing with a strand of her blonde hair. Victoire sighs. She wasn't going to tell him, but he has this way with her that makes her want to spill everything out onto his lap.
"Teddy," she finally asks. "am I important?" She gazes up into his brown gaze. "And truthfully. No wishy-washy romance."
He coils the hair around his finger, deep in thought. "I'd be lying if I say you aren't. Victoire, have you ever seen the way Lily looks up to you? You're her role model. She has many cousins, but it's you who she admires. Rose, who turns to you for advice, Lucy, who turns to you with her worries. Molly loves you, Victoire, she told me the other day how lucky I was, and how much she missed you while you were away. Lucy and Roxanne, Victoire, they love you, too."
He picks up a small rock that's wedged between the shingles of the roof and holds it in his flat palm. They stare at it for awhile, the night air smelling faintly of roses that Fleur planted on the window sill. Teddy takes a breath and continues.
"Victoire, your sister thinks heaven and earth of you. Your family loves you – every inch and piece of you. What more do you need? Uncle Harry, Aunt Hermione, and Uncle Ron – they knew that. They knew that there are more important things in life than making an impact on the whole world, rather making an impact and being significant in a person's life is much more fulfilling. And you are at the heart of your family, Victoire.
"And I love you, too," Teddy finishes, pressing a small kiss to her cheek. She grabs him gently and kisses him on the mouth, thinking she has never loved him more than she does now.
She pulls back and they sit with their arms touching. Victoire lets every word of Teddy's wash over her, drinking in his knowledge, know that everything is worth it, every moment of life is too precious to let it fall through her fingers like sand.
Every hand-scribbled, coffee-stained note, every flower picked, every song sung, every laugh laughed, every time spent together. Every joyful note that rang through the air, every tear-stained pillow, every shouting match. It was all worth it for love
She loved, and was loved in return, and that was all that mattered.
notes: please review! no favouriting without reviewing, thank you.