A/N: Inspired by Take That's 'Said It All', though is not a song-fic. I own nothing except Rémy, who is mine and shall be forever more. BIG BIG BIG thank you to my wonderful beta: love for Alice!

Sorry's Not Good Enough

16th August 2023

We stood in stoic silence. The tears were long gone but I stayed in his arms. They were limp around my fragile body, a shadow of what we used to be, but I didn't want to let go, not yet. My arms were looped around his neck, his soft brown hair tickling my hands. His head lay on mine; my ear was pressed against his chest, his slow heart set the beat of the morose melody that we were swaying to, a song that only we could hear. Each 'boom' of his heart against his rib cage sounded like a crash of cymbals, the crack of ice, the scream of broken china rattling in a box. It echoed. Empty.

A bang from upstairs snapped the silence in two, taking us with it. His arms swung down to his sides, mine fell to his shoulders, my fingers tracing down his arms, over the curve of his wrist, whispering over his fingers which moved instinctively against mine, threading together with only a ghost of the passion that used to be there. The electricity that once shot through my body at his touch had mellowed to merely a gentle wave swishing against a cliff face. I looked at the floor, wrapping my arms around myself. He didn't move. I willed him to edge away, to turn his back and leave so I could release the screams that were rising to my mouth like vomit. I glanced up, his gaze blank and empty. I could hear laughter from upstairs. It wafted through the ceiling like smoke, a dark cloud unfurling above our heads, suffocating.

He glanced down sideways at me. I felt almost scared. His lip was curled into a disgusted frown, his eyes cold and distant; his hair was so horribly dull and lifeless, so unlike anything I'd ever seen before. He shook his head, ran a hand through his hair in a way so reminiscent of Albus, and stormed from the house without saying a word.

I sank to the ground, my hands running through my hair. It was scarily quiet. It wasn't normal. There was always music, or voices, or something whirring, but everything had stopped now. The world had stopped. He had been the reason that I lived, and I was his sanctuary too. I felt more tears falling from my cheeks, and I prayed the ground beneath me would open up and flood me in my mistakes, in the pain and the anger and the hurt that Teddy had left behind. I had been stupid and now, I was paying the price.

One Month Earlier

"Victoire Weasley!" the familiar voice exclaimed. I squealed as he approached, taller than I'd remembered, his dark hair standing out more than it used to against his tanned skin. He opened his arms wide and I leapt into them, my feet lifting off the floor. Some people at the bar looked around but most continued what they were doing. I'd been talking about this for weeks. He held me close, his head buried in my hair, my own in his neck. I'd missed the smell of his aftershave. I inhaled deeply and giggled as his hands wandered to my hips to set me back on my feet. I brushed my hair out of my face and was unaware until he removed them that his hands were still resting on my hips.

"I've missed you so much," I admitted with a huge grin as we stepped towards the bar. He leant over it, catching the barmaid's gaze and ordering our drinks. He pointed to an empty table and we wandered over, both of us sporting smiles twice as large as I thought possible. We sat in silence, just smiling stupidly for a while before he spoke.

"How's the boyfriend?" His accent was less pronounced than it had been the last time I'd set eyes on my childhood friend. I scowled, stirring the little umbrella in my drink around.

"Rémy, it's really none of your business," I muttered. Truth was, Teddy and Rémy hated each other almost as much as Uncle Ron hated the Malfoys. His question was not out of care for Teddy's welfare but for his own pleasure.

"Vic, I can see you're upset about something," he said, eyebrows raised and head cocked to the side."I've known you since we were babies, and I know when something's up. What is it?" The son of my mother's best friend looked at me concernedly and I sighed. He leant forwards over the table so I wouldn't have to shout over the raucous noise that was slowly filling the pub. I leant forwards too, resting my head glumly on my hand. I told him about how Teddy had been working in Paraguay with his boss and Uncle Harry for the last two months. How whenever he came home, he was tired and irritable, and I spent all my time running around after him and waiting on him.

"Sounds like your social life is raving," he chuckled when I'd finished my tale. I shoved my middle finger up at him and he laughed. He downed his drink and held out his hand. I looked warily at him. "Come on, we're going back to yours and we're going to get dressed, and you're going to put your dancing shoes on and then we're going out on the town." I looked at him sceptically but he was on his feet and pulling me to mine before I could argue. At his broad grin, I couldn't help but smile and let him Side-Along Apparate me to the flat I shared with Teddy.

We didn't get further than my place. Whilst I was showering, Rémy had discovered the stash of alcohol we kept hidden away for lazy nights in: Christmas and birthday presents that we'd never got round to drinking. When I emerged from the bathroom, towel wrapped tightly around my body, my wet hair tumbling down my back, I found him sitting on the sofa clutching two glasses of intimidating purple liquid, smiling cunningly.

"Let me get dressed," I mumbled, strangely conscious of the fact that I was essentially naked in front of him. He shook his head.

"Vic, how many times have we sat in front of each other dressed like that? Dressed in less than that before now, actually. Come on, just one drink," he shook the glass temptingly at me and I gave in, taking the glass and collapsing beside him. I tucked my legs up beside me, snuggling into his side like we did when we were kids. I sipped at the drink and grinned.

"What's in this?" I demanded, taking another gulp. It barely tasted of alcohol but it was fantastic.

"Easy, easy," he warned, "It's strong stuff."

I didn't even notice that he'd avoided the question and instead I lowered the glass and turned a little to glance at him. The photo of us when we were seven was on the fireplace: I was missing three teeth, he was without two. We were grinning at the camera, our arms slung around each other. He pulled my hair and I stuck my tongue out at him, and so it repeated. My summer dress was floating around me; his shorts were covered in grass stains from where we'd rolled around in the garden of his home on the west coast of France. We still had the same cheesy grins today as back then; his eyes were still as bright and playful as when we were children and his hair had darkened off from mousy brown to a shade or two deeper than Teddy's. My own was lighter, less like straw and more silvery like my mother's.

"Vic?" He was the only person I let call me that, besides my father. Not even Teddy was allowed to shorten my name. "Are you okay?" I'd been staring. I smiled, took another sip and nodded. "Good." His accent was much improved. When we were kids, he spoke English with such a strong accent, it was easier to speak French. Now, after his two and a half year stint working for a Herbologist in Australia, he spoke clearer, even if it did have an Aussie twang. Our correspondence had never dwindled. We sent each other letters, without fail, once a week or more. Birthdays and Christmases still warranted presents, it was just like he was still over the water in France.

"Ted's an idiot," he muttered, looking around the flat and then at me. "If I'd had someone like you before I went to Australia, I would never have gone." I went to argue that he did have me, before the meaning of his words hit me. I could only nod, suddenly aware again that I was dressed in only a towel.

"Dom's finishing school this week," I told him, in the world's most pathetic attempt to divert the conversation.

"Really?"

"I know – " I trailed off as he started staring into space. "Rémy?" I asked gingerly, putting a hand on his arm. He turned to me and used my silence to duck his head and press his lips to mine. I whimpered but the feel of his hands trailing across my body distracted me. He moved closer. We fell backwards and I was barely aware of the towel slipping off my body as we edged into new territory.

20th August 2023

I was astounded to find Teddy standing on my parents' doorstep again, four days after he had found out. Of course, I had moved out. It would be absurd for it to be any other way. My dad let him in silently, and poked his head around the door.

"Ted's here. Do you want him to come in?" he asked coldly.

He'd barely spoken to me since he'd found out what had happened. Maman was more comforting. I think that was because she'd always expected it to not be Teddy, the boy who was brought up with me as an older brother, who I would fall in love with, but the childhood summer best friend that I shared everything with. I nodded at my father and smoothed out my skirt. Banging noises from above signalled that my siblings were unaware of anything untoward going on downstairs.

The living room door shut quietly, the footsteps crept towards me agonisingly slowly. Then they stopped. I looked up and rose to my feet. His hair was lighter than it had been last time, shorter in what I recognised as a vain attempt at appearing more nonchalant and like he didn't care. He said nothing.

"Teddy, please?" My voice sounded distant, some stranger speaking from outside. He shook his head. I couldn't even cry anymore. He just stood there, staring. "Ted?" I sounded pathetic. I was stood there begging him to listen, to hear me out, but I had nothing to say, not really. Nothing I could say could remove that cold gaze from his face, the downward curve of his lips gave away his hurt, the lightness of his hair, the icy grey of his eyes; all of it told me it was too late.

"I don't want to hear it, Victoire," he spoke so slowly, so cautiously that it made me shiver. His head moved downwards, looking at me properly for the first time in what seemed like years. He shook his head. "I can't hear it."

"You have to."

"You have no right to tell me what I have to do," he seethed, his eyes flashing across my face incredulously. I looked down ashamedly. He sighed, frustration painted over his face. I could tell he wanted to know, he was easier to read than a child's first book. He stepped away and sat down on the sofa. I stood stupidly in the centre of the room. "Sit down, for Merlin's sake," he snapped. Under normal circumstances, I'd have snapped back but instead I sat obediently on the coffee table. Perhaps, if things were different, I'd have smiled at what my mother's reaction would be if she walked in and saw me on it, but I didn't. I sat and waited. "Tell me. Please, tell me why." The question I hadn't wanted.

"I don't know," I responded, my voice a hoarse whisper. I felt like I was back in school, scared of the teacher yelling at me. "I'm sorry."

"Why him, Victoire?" he demanded. I began to cry softly. "Don't you dare start crying again," he growled. It sounded so cruel, so harsh as it erupted from his throat. "You weren't drunk. His letter made that clear enough. I'd only been back the week before, so you couldn't have been craving it." I said nothing. He didn't continue his list, which I'm sure was as long as his arm. "I was always jealous of him, you know? I hated him because he knew you better than I did."

"He doesn't. You both know me equally well."

"Evidently not, or I would have expected this. Clearly he knew how easy you were." It stung. I had brought out this side of him. He was usually so mellow, so calm just as Dad said Teddy's father had been. Teddy. Remus. Rémy. I suppose that didn't exactly help matters either. "I've brought back some more of your stuff." He stood up and I rose with him, wiping my eyes. "If you ever feel like giving me a real answer, let me know."

Then he took me by surprise. He gulped, squeezed his eyes shut and bent down to kiss me. Properly kiss me. I let my arms swing up around his neck, pulling him closer and closer. His hand was cupping my cheek. Then he pulled away.

"I loved you."

He said nothing else and did nothing else, but turned to the door and shouted a goodbye to my parents, before the front door slammed behind him. I hurried to the window and watched him lean on the porch, rub his hands over his face before Disapparating. I looked over my shoulder to the bag of my things he had dug out of the flat. On the top, pinned to a photo frame, was a piece of parchment. I knew what it was, and knew without even seeing it that the frame beneath would include the shattered remains of the picture of Rémy and me that Teddy had launched across the flat after he'd read the letter that was on the top of the bag.

Vic,

I didn't know how to tell you in person. I've been offered a job in China, working alongside one of the world's leading Potions' pioneres. It's a four year contract. Maman insists I take it. She reminds me that the London job was always temporary. It's a fantastic opertunity for me.

I wish I could see you before I leave, but I know Ted is back and I couldn't bear to have to share. It is selffish, I know, but it is so dificult. I want to let you know that that night was the best of my life so far, and I will never forget it. I know you will say it was a drunken mistake but there was no alcohol in that drink. It was just flavering.

Perhaps when I come back, you and Ted will be married and you will have forgotten that night. I will never do this. You have allways been the one for me. I love you, Victoire.

I hope you are happy for me, and I hope you will be happy with Teddy.

All my love, allways

Rémy

My eyes ran over the letter for the sixteenth time, even though I could have recited it by heart. Three months ago, I was happy with Teddy, awaiting an engagement when he arrived home, and excited for Rémy's return to Europe. Now, my mistake in judgement had led to the loss of the two men I loved the most in the world. The life I knew was falling down around me. When everyone found out, I would become an outsider in my own family.

Teddy's voice rang in my ears, loud, like he was stood right beside me. He had been talking about a friend who had betrayed him when he first said it. We'd been out by the lake at school, after exams in summer. He recounted the tale to me, my hand comfortingly over his own. Once he'd finished, he had reached to his left, grabbed a rock and thrust it into the depths of the water before us.

"I don't give second chances."

A/N: This is dedicated to JANE because she helped me name HFG, who you all know as Rémy, and gave me lots of advice, none of which I took on board. LOVE FOR JANE 3

So – what do you think? I'm not sure. I like the start a lot, but then it just loses something for me. I quite like the conversation with Teddy at the end. The bitch in me really came out when I wrote that part.

I'm a bit wary of the chronology, because…well, it isn't chronological! If it's confusing, let me know and I'll clear it up and explain. Also, the characters: are they well-rounded enough? I quite like them, especially Teddy, but I do worry about characterisation.

All mistakes in Rémy's letter are intentional!

Anything else that you notice will definitely be picked up on for future reference too :)