A/N: Alrighty, here we go with the next eleven. This is quite fun :) I meant to tell you last time, but if you're curious to know what the age dynamics are, you can check out my profile and look at the timeline section. I've got when all the kids were born there. Suffice it to say, Vic's the oldest and Lily's the youngest and there's not quite eight years between them, so they're all fairly close in age. I guess there's ten between Lily and Teddy. Anyway, off you go. Hope you enjoy.

Victoire and Dominique – Fireworks

"Just leave me alone!"

"Why do you always have to ruin EVERYTHING I care about?"

"Why is it always MY FAULT?"

"I can't WAIT until I can move OUT, and get AWAY from you!"

"Me NEITHER!"

The echo of doors slamming, pounding footsteps on the stairs reverberated through the thunder of fireworks exploding over their heads as she met Victoire's eyes. Dominique looked away quickly, pressing herself flat on the ground and letting the noise of the fireworks fill her chest and wash out the damp, curling remains of the anger that always brought stupid tears to her eyes.

There was a skittering of rocks and someone landed on the outcropping Dominique had claimed as her own, away from the rest of their family all ranged on the cliffs above, ooing and ahing over Uncle George's latest creations. The shower of gold and scarlet stars that had just burst over Dominique's head blurred, and she let out a shuttering breath.

There was a soft hand in the tangle of Dominique's short red hair, the edge of a skirt gently dabbing at her wet cheeks. Her sister helped her sit up and wrapped her in a tight hug, whispering an apology in her ear under the tumult of explosions.

Dominique, biting down on her lip to stop from wailing, watched the nets of flaming color fall into the sea, and wondered why, every time they fought, she always ended up being the sodden, bedraggled fallout and Victoire the one to come and fish her out.

Victoire and Louis – Help

"I'm going to fail!"

"No you're not."

"Dad's going to kill me."

"Well, probably."

"Vic! You're not helping!"

"It's your own fault. Why didn't you ask Bridwell to go over the material you didn't understand?"

"Er…."

"Louis, did you even open a book before tonight?"

"I forgot, okay? What do I care about bloody transfiguration for anyway? It's a stupid subject. If I want a teapot, I'll just buy a damn teapot instead of killing a poor tortoise. It's animal cruelty is what it is."

"Lou, I have N.E.W.T's starting in two days. Do you understand what that means?"

"Vic, please!"

Victoire heaved a sigh. But that placatory note under her brother's whine had the same effect on her as it had when he was four. She took him by the shoulders and steered him into a chair. "Take three deep breaths," she instructed, kneeling in front of him and producing a thermos out of her bag. "Drink."

"This isn't some black market brain stimulant, is it? 'Cause I've heard what they put in those –"

"It's hot chocolate, Lou. Now do you want my help or not?"

Obediently, he let out a slow breath and took a draw from the thermos. When most of the panic had gone from his face, Victoire took her place across the table from him and pulled a book toward her.

"Okay, let's start with something easy. What's the incantation?..."

Victoire and Molly – Be Prepared

Molly straightened her glasses in what Victoire thought was a slightly haughty fashion and pushed a loose strand of hair (an incredible anomaly given the severity of her bun) out of her face. "I suppose you're the one with experience," she said, not sounding like she believed it. "But, not to sound snobbish, but I think I'm a little better prepared than you were. I've been planning my career since my second year."

Victoire had to fight rolling her eyes. Every time she tried to have a heart-to-heart with Molly, she forgot that it was Molly she was attempting to reach out to. Molly who knew everything. Molly who didn't need anybody's advice. Molly who was going to be Minister of Magic someday so you should treat me like it, thank you very much.

Molly who was a naïve seventeen-year-old who couldn't see the title wave of life rushing at her. And hadn't they all been like that once? Hadn't Victoire wished bitterly, when she'd been blind-sided in the torrent, that someone might have pointed it out?

"There's more to life after Hogwarts than just your career, Moll," she said gently. She wasn't aiming for Molly's insecurities, didn't want to rip open any of the delicate social wounds she knew her cousin had quietly collected. But it needed to be said.

"You really think so?" Molly asked. Her lips twitched in a condescending smile.

Victoire closed her eyes. Well, if they didn't listen to your warnings, it wasn't your fault if they drowned, right?

Victoire and Lucy – Diary

Lucy found it under the mattress in the room she and her sister used to share with Vic and Dom in the days when the Burrow would be habitually assailed by grandchildren. Before they'd all grown up. Well, she hadn't grown out of spending the first night back from school with her grandparents, and that was why she'd been hanging upside-down off the bed all on her own in the first place.

It was a book lined with pink satin and embroidered with lace flowers, a silken ribbon curling elegantly between the pages, so she wasn't surprised to find Victoire's name scrawled in the front cover. She hesitated for only a moment when she realized it was a diary. But judging by the dates, Victoire hadn't written in it since she was sixteen. That was more than seven years ago, now. She was married and going to have a baby, so why would she care about this anymore? Besides, it wasn't like she would ever know.

An entry for an entry, Lucy thought, straightening up and pulling the quill out of her ponytail. For everyone she read, she would write one of her own. Then maybe it would be sort of like having a conversation with someone.

Victoire and Fred – Heartache

She didn't think Fred Weasley would ever truly appreciate the word. With his shy smile, his natural charm, his easy wit, there would always be a girl waiting, hoping, wishing for his attention. And the fact that he seemed genuinely surprised and thrilled to find her each time meant his fortune wasn't like to change anytime soon.

Victoire tried not to be too jealous as she watched him across the crowded sitting room, tenderly kissing his girlfriend under the mistletoe. Each of the few he'd brought home had seemed perfect, like they could already be living their happily-ever-after. It was too easy for him, and that didn't seem fair.

A goblet floated down in front of her eyes.

"Eggnog?"

Teddy vaulted over the back of the sofa with his own goblet, splattering a few drops on her. She carefully wiped them off, lips quirking fondly as she felt her husband's lips on her neck. Alright, so it had all turned out pretty well for her in the end, but that didn't mean she hadn't gotten at least a few scars. Everyone deserved one or two.

Victoire and Roxanne – Study

"You're not supposed to be in here, Roxy."

"I know."

"So what are you doing?"

Roxanne shrugged. "Just looking. I'm not going to touch anything. I just want to see. Uncle Harry won't be angry about that."

Victoire sucked a lip. No. He wouldn't be. But still. "It's rude," she tried to explain.

"Why?" Roxanne turned curious eyes on her. "It's not like it's their bedroom. I just want to look at the pictures."

She stepped around the desk to examine a faded photo of four boys with their arms slung around each other.

"It's just… look, it's personal. If Harry wanted you to see this stuff, he'd keep it in the hall, not in his study."

"It wasn't locked."

"Ok, Teddy and I are the ones in charge until Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny get back, and I need to help him with Lily and the boys, so you need to stay in the living room where we can keep track of you. Alright?"

Roxanne nodded and reluctantly retreated from the room. Victoire closed the door behind her with a breath of relief.

"Vic? What if I ask him about it when he gets back?"

Victoire sighed. "You're going to be a Ravenclaw, aren't you?"

Victoire and Rose – Numb

The rain pounded down, icy and thunderous and hard enough to kick up clouds of mud. The world was silver-gray and Rose could barely see the lights of Shell cottage twenty feet away. The sea was crashing against the cliffs and a greedy wind lashing her soaked hair into her face. But God, Rose loved it.

She'd thought Victoire was mad when she'd said let's go dance in the rain. That was an expression. It was something from a book or a song or a corny film. It wasn't something that people actually did. Least of all practical, bookish Rose Weasley. Or graceful, composed prefect Victoire Weasley, for that matter. But lately something had gotten into Victoire. Something that made her sing and dance and giggle like she were walking on clouds.

So here they were, clutching hands and spinning, spinning, spinning, drenched and mud-splattered and all feeling hammered out by the rain. And it was fun. It was. For the first time all summer, Rose had forgotten to be nervous about going to school, nervous for what house she'd be in and if she was really as smart as everyone said.

And when they burst into the blazing kitchen, streaming and breathless, and feeling rushed back to her, somehow there was only excitement left, and Rose wanted to laugh for the exhilaration. So she did, turning and wrapping her arms around Victoire in a sudden rush of affection.

Victoire and Hugo – Nostalgia

"Do you remember how you used to dance with me?"

Hugo blushed and set down his cup, glancing around. "What, when I was four? You wouldn't really tell everybody that, would you?"

"Why not?" Victoire laughed, poking him in the stomach playfully. "It was adorable. You wanted to be my prince charming."

Hugo grinned embarrassedly. All around them, his friends from school chatted and drank and joked, celebrating the commencement of their adult lives.

"You were my little buddy, do you remember?" she went on obliviously. "You lot always used to be over at our house when your parents worked. You used to play in mine and Dom's room and I'd read you to sleep in my bed from my fairy books. You even had me paint your nails once because I was doing mine. I thought your dad was going to choke on his own tongue when he saw that."

She was chortling and Hugo was glowing pink, but when Victoire sighed and looked at him and asked where all that time went, he found himself wondering that, too.

Victoire and James – Afterlife

"Do you believe in an afterlife?"

The question could not have been more sudden. There they were, frosting Christmas cookies in the middle of the Burrow, listening to Gran's favorite broadcast, and James Potter came out with that. Well, no one ever said he had tact.

Victoire quirked a pale eyebrow at him, but otherwise calmly mulled over the question, the ring on her left hand sparkling as she smeared blue icing on a snowman. This was one of the reasons he'd asked her; he knew she'd take him seriously.

"I believe that life ends, thus there must be a period after it… but what that is, I can't say."

"And all the people, like on Muggle TV and stuff, who say they've seen things when their hearts stopped or whatever?"

"I don't know, James. I haven't seen a lot of Muggle TV. But… I've read a few healing books. They say when you're deprived of oxygen, you tend to hallucinate."

"So you don't think it's real?"

"I don't think the word of someone in bad enough shape not to be breathing should constitute as proof of anything."

"But you don't think it's real, do you, Victoire? Come on, I know you don't. You're a bloody journalist. Skepticism runs in your veins." It was the other reason he'd asked her and not anybody else.

Victoire laughed. "Maybe. Why the sudden interest in the spiritual, anyway?"

James looked down and began drawing in the smears of frosting on his plate. "Al's just… been saying some things lately. But I think he's barking."

Victoire looked at him carefully. "Probably," she said, because clearly that was what he needed to hear.

Victoire and Al – Wishing

Al watched her with his head cocked to the side. She was laying on the grass, staring up at the starry sky, hair a silvery pink in the moonlight. He took a step forward on the porch.

"What are you doing?"

Victoire tipped her head back to look at him upside down. She smiled a little and patted the ground next to her. Albus didn't need another invitation; he scampered down the Burrow's back steps and flung himself to the ground beside her, squinting through his glasses to try and see what she saw.

"What constellations has Teddy told you about?" she asked, sitting up against the porch rail and pulling him sideways into her lap.

"He told me 'bout the Princess Andromeda and Perceus and Orion and Hercules and" – he paused to take a shuddering breath – "the scorpion."

"How about Leo, has he told you that one yet?"

Al shook his head eagerly and nestled into the warmth of her sweater, feeling her voice hum through his chest as she began the story.

"Look," Victoire whispered, shaking him a little. He'd almost drifted off to sleep, but the tickle of her long hair on his neck jerked him awake. Her finger was tracing the flaming path of something streaking through the inky heavens.

"A falling star," he murmured, awed. He'd never seen one before.

Victoire tightened her arms around him. "Make a wish."

Victoire and Lily - Return

Dear Lily.

That was how the letters all started. Lily fanned the thick stack against her palm, one for every month Lily had been in Italy. That meant thirty four. Thirty four. Thirty four months. Were you really dear to someone if you hadn't seen them, save for a Christmas or two, in almost three years?

Victoire always went on for pages, telling her everything. Isobel was talking up a storm. John was starting to read. Teddy had been promoted to some special task force, which was apparently quite a big deal. She wondered if he would still call her squirt. She wondered if he would still recognize her.

Lucy was starting a new job. Gran had tripped on the stairs, but she was fine. Dom had had a falling-out with her boyfriend of nine months, a bloke Lily had never even seen. Rose had started shopping for a wedding dress. Had she heard from Hugo lately?

Missing you.

That was how every letter ended. Lily bit her lip, stared out at the sun-soaked sprawl of the ancient city around her, the magic that she'd never found anywhere else before, and made her decision. Victoire was right. She had been missing. It was about time she was found.

A/N: What'd you think? I realize that some of them might have been ambiguous again, or else not had the intended effect seeing as I know everyone's whole story and lay out symbols and significances that don't get picked up on because I haven't written everything yet. But I love chatting, so ask away if you're interested :) And I highly recommend giving this a shot yourself, even if you don't do all 78. This is such a blast for character exploration. Hope to be hearing from you soon!