Fear is how I fall
a/n: this is for Vicky, who's really an amazing person and i seriously adore her. i feel bad for not giving you anything for your birthday! you can take this as a late birthday present, bb, but your birthday was, like, two months ago so yeah, that's kinda embarrassing. but anyways, this is for you and i hope you like it. :)
and lastly, a million thanks to my brilliant Beta Abby (Cookies-and-Ink) for doing a lovely beta job and helping me so much with this!
and of course, happy reading!
crawling in my skin
these wounds they will not heal
fear is how I fall
confusing what is real – Crawling, Linkin Park.
She sat on the edge of the lake and watched the sunset, the blood-red sun disappearing behind the horizon to leave an orange trail behind it on the surface of the lake. The stars appeared overhead, one by one, as if they were waiting for the precise moment when the sun would drop behind the horizon to come into sight themselves.
The fireflies followed suit. A luminous yellow army of insects slowly appeared bright against the sky back lit by stars. She watched them circle around her buzzing softly, an eerie glow now cast over the beautiful scene.
Instinctively, she glanced at her side forgetting for a moment that she was alone. A smile that was tugging at her lips to break free disappeared the moment she realized that there was no one there to share this scene with.
She loved sunsets. It was her favorite time of the day when the sun disappeared and the stars and fireflies appeared. She had always loved sunsets. She can never remember a day from her childhood when she had not come up here with him to look at this scene.
Now that she came up here alone and without him, the full force of his absence hit her in the face, just like it did every day.
She realized her mistake of thinking about him just a second too late. She fell into her own trap like always. The longing for his touch gripped her and for a moment he was there, before memories came forward rapidly inside her mind's eye, as if a roll of film had started to play the second she thought of him.
She plunged into her memories; forgetting for a moment that he would not come back anymore, that she would never feel his arms around her, feel his breath on her skin. He was never coming back.
/
"Hello, Vicky-Nicky."
"Don't call me Vicky-Nicky, Teddybear."
"Don't call me Teddybear, Vicky-Nicky."
"Teddybear sounds cuter than Vicky-Nicky."
"If you don't stop calling me Teddybear, I'll start calling you Tori-poo."
"Don't call me Tori-poo, Teddybear!"
And just like always, they fell on the grass, giggling and laughing, two carefree children, with not a troubled thought in their minds.
/
"Teddy?"
They were sitting together on the edge of the lake, both reluctant to go back to the Burrow although the sun had long since disappeared. So they lay there, wrapped around each others' arms like always with her head against his shoulder and his face in her hair, quietly watching the beauty in front of them.
"Yes, Victoire?"
She smiled at his mocking use of her name in its full form. Usually he would say "Vic" or "Tori" or some other name, but never "Victoire". He usually addressed her as "Victoire" in letters or whenever he was angry or disappointed with her.
And she was certain that he wasn't angry or disappointed with her now.
"It's nothing," she said, still smiling.
He turned her face around to look at her. His eyes were a dull grey and his hair was midnight blue, the same colour as the dark sky.
He arched his eyebrows, but didn't say anything. Instead, he slowly leaned in and pressed his lips on hers.
She twisted her body around to face him, and kiss him properly. He pushed his tongue into her mouth, and she sighed contently against his lips.
She doesn't admit it then, but these were the moments when she wondered what she could ever have done to deserve him.
/
All the happiest days in her life were with Teddy. He was the big ball of sunshine in her life, of course. She was happy because of him; the world was beautiful because of him.
And one of her top ten happiest days was the day he had dropped down on one knee. Everyone, both of them included, knew it would happen any day and it didn't surprise her when it did, but it still brought a rush of emotions inside her; a rush of emotions that only he could bring.
"Victoire Isabelle Weasley, you are the only person that I can ever imagine to spend my whole life with. Marry me?"
She was caught off guard. She was amazed that even something as simple as that could mean so much; that even that one sentence or those two words from his mouth could make her heart flutter.
So, she didn't hesitate. She breathed, "Yes. A thousand times, yes."
/
"There have been murders all over the country, Teddy," said Harry. "Children, middle-aged men and women, even an old woman who lived alone. So it either has to be a maniac who likes killing or someone who – well, we're suspecting it's someone very dangerous who's using Dark Magic. There hasn't been anything like this in the last thirty years, and before that, it was Voldemort."
His voice faltered, as if remembering things he didn't want to remember, but he regained his composure and said, "I would've sent someone else, but you're the best I have."
Teddy nodded. He was grateful to be given the responsibility of leading the investigation for the murder of so many people. He knew it was dangerous, as it always was. It was a perilous profession after all. He didn't care whether he survived or not.
He only thought about the pretty girl who loved him too much and whom he loved back much more.
What would she do if something happened to him? Where would she be without him?
He didn't want to know.
/
"Vic, listen to me," he whispered.
She brushed away her tears and looked up at him, her eyes shining. "W..Why—why should I listen to you?" she hiccuped. "You never listen to me."
"That's not true, Victoire and you know that."
She stayed silent, staring at a spot on the floor.
"I'll be back in a couple months. It's just a small investigation that Harry wants me to look after. I promise you just a few weeks from now, I'll be back."
She looked into his mesmerizing eyes. His irises were a light, honey-brown today. She knew this was their actual colour, and that his eyes changed to their original colour only when he was anxious or nervous.
She could see it in his eyes; that he would keep his promise, and wouldn't let her down. He would be back in a couple months. Just in time for their wedding.
She sighed and leaned her head on his chest. "I know you will."
/
She waited for him day and night. She had never been the patient one. She'd always been the impulsive and reckless one. She'd always been the one who opposed of the idea for taking it slow; and the one whom everyone had to run to catch up to. She hated waiting. It was difficult for her, but more so, if it was him that she was waiting for.
But, Victoire Weasley was always the one who liked to think that she was capable of doing the most impossible things.
So she waited. She waited for him to come back to her. Just like he had promised he would.
She spent her days fantasizing about the big day. She spent hours with her sister and her mother, looking at gorgeous white gowns and large floral bouquets. She gave up all her time preparing the wedding. Anyone who looked at her would think that she had forgotten about the groom himself in her preparation and excitement for the wedding.
But they didn't know how wrong they were. She kept herself busy, hoping it would dim the worry that was constantly eating her up. Because she was worried. She was anxious and fearful, and even though she knew he would be back –there was a nagging, almost nauseous, feeling in the back of her mind that she couldn't shake off.
/
The footsteps in front of him on the hard gravel path echoed loudly in the silent, dark alley. He ran after them, his own feet making no more sound than any occasional leaf that fell on the path. That had been something that his Auror Training had demanded him to learn; that the sound of your feet should be inaudible even in the most silent of place, which was how he could tell that the person he was chasing was no Auror. But then, that wasn't much. Not anyone who was an Auror could do something as horrible as that person had.
Teddy spared a glance behind him and knew that the other Aurors were following him as silent as he was, but they seemed to be too far away to aid him if a fight ensued. He turned around and squinted in the darkness ahead but it was almost impossible to see anything in front of him. All he could make out about the person in front was a burly shape who he assumed had very large feet.
He felt stupid, running like a mere human. But this man was not trying to use any magic to Apparate from the place which he thought was even more stupid for someone who had just killed more than dozens of Wizards and he couldn't risk stopping and using magic himself. He was sure that at the pace that the man was going, if he did stop and performed a spell he would lose the man.
His brain tried to access how much distance they had put between the house and themselves, while his feet still carried him on–
That was when the footsteps died down.
He stopped, his heart thumping loudly. He instinctively took out his wand and muttered, "Lumos."
The light from his wand shone on the cemented path and the walls on either side of him but there was nothing to see, just a dead end in front of him.
"Damn," he muttered. The other Aurors quickly caught up to him. Stevens came up beside him, and said, slightly panting, "Where'd he go?"
"I don't know! Holy shit. He was right here!"cried Teddy, exasperatedly.
"He must be around here. He couldn't have just disappeared—"
Then suddenly, something flashed in the corner of his vision. Teddy swiveled his head in that direction, and saw a dark shape jump from the lowest window ledge of a shop nearby. He shouted at Stevens to duck when he heard an incantation and a flash of green light lit up the dark street.
Teddy raised his wand, and said something inaudible, but even then it was mere instinct that made him throw himself in the way of the man's aimed spell and Stevens.
His own spell shot towards the murderer, and Teddy knew that he had aimed correctly. But the other one came towards him.
It seemed like the world had come to a stand-still at that precise moment.
They say that before your death, your whole life flashes in front of your eyes.
It hadn't been the same for him. For a moment when he was temporarily stricken, all he could see in his mind's eye was the face of a small girl, with blonde pigtails and bright ocean blue eyes, laughing and saying, "Teddybear!"
Before the green light blinded him and sucked him into the darkness, he realized that she had been his whole life.
/
She was going through a Muggle fashion magazine that afternoon, borrowed off Lily, rifling through the pictures of Muggle women in their wedding gowns. Theirs were a bit different than the traditional Wizarding dress robes, but she wanted some idea before she actually ordered hers.
Suddenly the flames in their fireplace bellowed and turned green, revealing a tall man spinning in the flames and falling into their living room.
She yelped, and got up from the couch. "Are you okay, Uncle Harry?"
By the time Harry had gotten up and straightened his glasses, Dominique and Fleur had rushed out of the kitchen, where they had been preparing dinner.
All of their questioning glances disappeared when they saw Harry's expression. Something was terribly wrong.
Victoire's chest knotted and knew that it would be the last time it would feel anything at all.
Harry's eyes behind his glasses were bloodshot, like he hadn't slept for days. His lips tightened around his mouth, almost trembling as if he had been holding back tears for a long time. He looked like he had gotten through hell, skin ghostly and pale.
He didn't say anything nor did he attempt to sit down. He just opened his mouth and looking directly at Victoire, he blurted out,
"He's dead. Teddy's dead."
It was as if her whole world had crashed around her. Everything turned to slow motion, as part of her brain wanted her to burst out laughing because surely, it was only a sick joke. But there was a part of her which knew that he wasn't joking and her intuition turned out to be right.
She stared into her Uncle's green eyes, and knew that he really was saying the truth. Faintly, she thought her Mother had screamed and voiced her thoughts, saying that it must be some kind of a joke.
Harry shook his head, his voice shaky. "No. He—died. On the mission. While trying to save another Auror, he took down the murderer…but he died." His voice broke at the last word.
She turned around, not knowing what to do. The first thing that came to mind was to go somewhere alone, to run, to pretend nothing had happened, hoping and praying that someone would wake her up from this bad dream.
The door banged behind her as she slammed it shut on Dominique's face. She hadn't even realized that Dominique had been following her upstairs when she'd ran. "Vic, open the door!" Dom shouted from the other side.
She didn't hear her. Sliding down the door Victoire stared in front of her at the walls of her old bedroom she'd been staying in. Her thoughts couldn't form. Everything just went numb.
All she heard inside her head was her Uncle's voice saying, Teddy is dead. He is dead. He's no more. Teddy is dead. Teddy is dead.
Teddy is dead.
She hears the voice again.
And that's when she starts to scream.
/
She doesn't protest when Dominique finally manages to enter the room to see her silently lying on the bed, clutching an old T-shirt of his. She continued o breathe in the smell, his smell, and stare into emptiness.
All she sees is his troubled face, staring down at her and murmuring, "I promise I'll be back."
It doesn't make sense. He can't be gone. They had spent every single moment of their lives together, inseparable to say the least. How can he just go? Just like that?
He can't be gone, she repeats again to herself.
"Vic, you should eat something," said Dominique, anxious and bleary-eyed.
She doesn't hear her, or maybe pretends that she can't.
She doesn't even look up at her sister, while Dominique continues her fruitless attempts to persuade her to get up and talk.
Her Mother comes in at one point, and Fleur can't help but choke at the sight of her daughter. Dominique shoots her a helpless glance, but Fleur gives her head a little shake. She whispers something inaudible, and Dominique hesitates for just a moment before leaving the room.
Fleur turns to leave, but then she stops in the doorway, looks back at her daughter, and murmurs, "I am sorry, but I have nothing to say to you, chérie. Nothing—", her voice breaks, and she sobs loudly. She turns around and rushes out of the room, leaving Victoire alone with no sense of comfort in her.
/
After the funeral, during which she hadn't heard a thing, people come and talk to her. But she doesn't look at anyone in the eye. She looks at something in the distance, and doesn't actually hear people when they express their sympathies to her.
Her wavy hair is tangled up in a bun at the top of her head, which Dominique had somehow managed to do despite the fact that it hadn't been combed in days. Her eyes have dark circles under them from her lack of sleep. Her skin is still deadly pale, and her lips are chapped. She looks worse than she ever has in her whole life, but really who cares?
For the first time in her life, Victoire Weasley doesn't care what she looks like.
/
"He died a hero's death."
"He died to save his fellow soldier."
"Anyone who knew him should be proud."
The words echo inside her head, and she wondered how they, none of whom know him as well as she did, know of what he would be proud and of what he wouldn't.
/
The blue glittering waters stretched out endlessly in front of the sandy shore where she was standing. Her naked feet touched warm and dry sand. She looked as far as she could, and still she could see nothing but the infinite sea.
But then there was his silhouette, standing in the middle of her and the sea, with his back to her. He was staring out at the scene, probably lost in the beauty of it all.
She smiled, a bright and cheery smile –something that she didn't think she was capable of doing anymore in reality. She pulled up her long blue jeans above her ankles and walked towards him. Her face was still lit with a smile, as she approached him and placed a hand on his shoulder.
He turned around to face her, and she had to catch her breath. His hair was a dark coppery colour, looking almost golden in the sunlight glinting off of it. His eyes, a sweet honey brown, accentuated his hair colour perfectly which wasn't surprising. Her fingers reached up involuntary. She hadn't seen his face in months, but she knew his face better than hers. She trailed her index finger across his high cheekbones and his narrow, slightly crooked nose. Her fingers reached the corner of his left eye, and she brushed her nail against his dark eyebrows, letting the feel of his skin under her finger sink in.
He caught her hand in his, and trailed soft kisses across her knuckles. She closed her eyes, and smiled again.
It had been so long since she had seen him or felt him, and the ache in her heart for his touch seemed to have disappeared almost as if it had never been there.
But then abruptly, he let her hand go. And just like that, the hole inside her chest was back.
She frowned, not understanding his mood. His features had turned grim and serious. His mouth set in a hard line, as he stepped backward.
She took a step forward and then, instantly he jumped back again. Her puzzled and hurt expression betrayed her emotions.
She again reached up to touch him, but faltered when he shook his head.
A small, sly smile tugged at his lips, though there was no happiness in it. Only sadness was etched across his face.
He said, in a voice barely above a whisper, "Let me go, Vic. You can do it."
He kept on moving, and she tried to go forward but he was going away from her. She tried to move, but she couldn't. Something along the lines of fear and anxiety seized her. The gaping hole inside her chest grew in tens in that nanosecond...
She woke up that night, screaming in her pillow.
/
She hasn't come out of her room in days. She has to be forced to eat at all. All she does is lie down on her bed or sit on the floor of her room. Her tears have dried out, but she still manages to shed a few everyday and still save some for the next.
That's how her days pass by.
/
"She isn't responding to anything—"
"Give her time. She was in love with him, for God's sake, Bill! She's going to be okay—"
"No, she won't. Can't you see what's happened to her? She's numb. She doesn't eat anything or say anything. She shuts herself in her damn room all day long, doing God knows what. She wakes up in the middle of the night, screaming. She can't get over him, Fleur. Can't you see it?"
After a moment, Fleur says, her voice trembling as if she was crying, "Please don't take my child away from me…"
"She's already gone, Fleur," said Bill gently, his voice tight.
She stood quietly beside the ajar door of the kitchen, listening to her parents. They're going to take her away for therapy. She knew it. They're going to feed her lies and tell her everything's going to be fine.
A part of her, the rational part of her brain, had suspected they would do it eventually. They would do it, she knew. And apparently, they had decided on sooner rather than later.
/
"Victoire, I'm just here to help you. I know you've suffered a great shock from your boyfriend's death. But we all have to go through these shocks in our lives. Death is just something we have to embrace, no matter whom it may have occurred to –"
The words of the Healer slipped through her ears. Didn't she know that Victoire didn't listen anymore? Didn't she know that Victoire didn't feel anything anymore? Didn't she know that her Teddy – that Teddy, who had always been there for her and had never left her side – that Teddy was not actually gone? Didn't she understand that her Teddy could never be gone?
No, but she didn't. Like everyone else, she was under the illusion that her Teddy was dead.
But Victoire – that Victoire who wasn't Victoire without her Teddy –she knew that Teddy wasn't gone. He would be back. He would keep his promise and be back just in time for their wedding.
/
"We need to be gentle with her," the Healer said. "She's in a critical condition because of the shock. She needs to understand that he isn't going to be back, but if we press it on her too harshly, she'll break. I think it would be best if we avoid repeating the truth to her again and again…"
Dominique heard the Healer's words, and she knew they weren't true. Her sister may need to be treated gently, but that didn't mean she was going to be lied to.
"No," she spoke up.
Her parents, their faces mirrors of anxiety and trepidation looked up, and so did the Healer.
"Excuse me," said the brunette woman stiffly. "I think I know how to treat my patients –"
"Yes, but she's my sister as well. I know Victoire. She doesn't need gentle persuasion. She just needs to wake up and see the truth that's lying in front of her eyes. And about her breaking if we're too harsh," Dominique added, her throat tightening. "She's already broken."
/
"Vic, it's been six months already," said Dominique, holding her hand. It was strange how Dominique's was the only voice that reached Victoire. But then, she heard what her sister was saying, and for a moment couldn't process her words. "You have to forget him, Vic."
She stared into the ocean blue eyes of her sister, and still she couldn't get what Dominique was trying to say.
Dominique edged closer, and with a fierce determination in her eyes, she said, "Vic, you can do this. I know you can. You have to understand. He was a good man. We all know that. And he died for a noble cause. But he's gone now. He's not coming back. He's never coming back."
Something inside of Victoire should've broken, but there wasn't anything inside her to break now, was there?
She saw an image of his face in her mind's eye, and she cocked her head to the side trying to process Dominique's words. She saw him and she saw a bright blue sky and a sandy shore, and she saw him turn to her and say, "Let me go, Vic."
And that was when the words hit her. Her sister was staring into her face, waiting for a response.
"He is never coming back," she said, repeating her sister's words. "He…he won't be here for the –the wedding?"
Dominique choked, but regained her composure quickly. She tried to keep her voice from breaking down as she said, "No, Vic. He –he isn't coming for the wedding."
Then she threw her arms around Victoire, and held her tightly for a moment expecting her to throw her head back and scream like she always did. But she didn't need to.
This time, the tears rolled down Victoire's cheek, but no sound escaped from her mouth.
/
She was back in the sandy beach with him again. The blue glittering waters spread out in front of her reaching the horizon in the distance. But this time, he was beside her, his arm draped around her shoulders.
She looked up at him, and smiled. He looked back down at her, and she was glad to see that his face was devoid of his previous grim expression. He smiled back, the same smile that could make her melt in his arms right then and there.
He tilted his head to the side, so that he could look at her face at a better angle. And he whispered, his stormy grey eyes shining, "I'm proud of you, Vic."
And she continued to smile, and detaching herself from him, she stepped back.
It was a step that she couldn't have taken before, but she did now. And she saw him take another step back and her smile widened.
That was when her eyes flew open, and –after months of screaming out after her dreams about him, and then never recalling them afterwards anyways –she stayed still breathing hard, remembering every detail of the dream. She was glad that she had taken that step back.
/
She was staring at the place where the sun had disappeared, feeling empty and drained of memories. There was a part of her that felt liberated now, when she thought about him and the memories they shared; as if the last one year had taught her to be strong; had made her sturdy, and more in control of her emotions.
In her mind's eye, she could still imagine him and his beautiful face. But now, he was more than happy. He was in a place where no harm could reach him, where his body would not have to endure pain. She could imagine him, living in his happy place, but nevertheless, looking out for her.
He was happy, and knowing that, maybe she could have a shot at happiness too.
a/n: whew. i think that was my longest piece yet. i'm really proud of this, so please i will appreciate it if you left a small review. :)