A/N: Thanks for all the alerts and favourites guys. 3 No reviews for last chapter to distract you with so on we go...
He was late, extremely late.
Victoire supposed she couldn't really blame him. After the things she'd said at their last meeting she couldn't imagine he'd have any desire to see her ever again. She probably wouldn't want to see anyone who witnessed her humiliation either.
Still it was rude to keep a girl waiting this long without some sort of message, especially a girl who was running the very serious risk of being expelled with every passing moment. For Victoire knew if she was discovered now there was absolutely no way she could talk her way out of it. She doubted even Uncle Harry could save her if someone happened to stumble across her empty bed anytime soon. Not only was she breaking curfew by at least four hours she was choosing to spend her stolen time actually outside the boundaries of the school grounds in a bar she wouldn't even have been allowed into by her parents if she was legal. There was no one she was sure, save perhaps Merlin himself, who could save her if someone found her before Brian arrived.
"Buy ya a drink, miss?" Victoire jumped. A middle aged slightly balding wizard with a sleazy smile plastered on his face stood beside her stool leaning his elbow on the bench inches from where her hands fiddled with her drink. His piggy little black eyes were glued below her hemline.
"Come on Darling," he drawled in a thick slur that suggested a Scottish accent when not laden with alcohol, "Just tha' one drink," he persisted. Victoire stirred the ice in her red drink ignoring the presence of her new admirer; he was the third person to ask her the exact same question. She supposed it was the price she paid for sneaking into such a dismal place whilst underage.
Getting in the bar hadn't been a problem a simple slick of mascara and an extra short skirt and no-one had even thought to ask for her ID. Not that she imagined a place like this would be too scrupulous on who it let in. The place was dark, the windows tinted with a thick layer of dirt and it looked like somewhere you wouldn't feel out of place wearing a death mark on your sleeve. She imagined everyone would be too smashed to notice, or care.
"A spirited lass like ya'self needs a much stronger drink," he persisted when Victoire continued to ignore him. That was until she felt a thick hand slide up her knee. She slammed a hand down on the bench top and whirled her stool to face him not caring that her feet very nearly kicked him in a very sensitive region. She'd show him spirited.
"Watch it," he cried. She fixed him with the darkest glare she could manage letting all her frustration and anger darken her eyes until she was sure they must have been blazing.
"Take. Your. Hand. Off. Me," she said her voice low and fierce wand point millimetres from his eyeball. Whatever he saw in her blistering gaze was enough to convince him that it wasn't worth the effort or physical pain to piss her off any further. He backed away quickly hands up in surrender stumbling over a chair leg in his haste to get away. Victoire eyes narrowed into thin slits as she watched his retreating back waiting till she was sure he would not return before turning back to the bar, and her drink, with an angry snort. She took another gulp of her drink, only mildly alcoholic, and checked her watch yet again.
Brian was almost an hour late. Victoire growled as she swung her chair around to survey the bar one last time seriously debating whether it was even worth giving him a few more minutes. If he wasn't here by now then clearly there was a very slim chance that he was even coming at all. Slowly she let her eyes settle over the relatively dim setting before her. There were few other customers scattered throughout the sparsely decorated space but Victoire made herself scrupulously check each one in case she had missed Brian somehow. Piggy-eyes was tucked away in a back corner surrounded by his drinking buddies who were all having a good laugh at his expense. Not that piggy-eyes seemed too concerned nursing his hurt pride with a very large tankard of ale. Forcing herself to look over them carefully Victoire found nothing interesting and so moved onto the next customer. Now this one had a lot more intrigue. Here was an elderly man with a moustache so dangerous it looked more like a bike handlebar then any facial accessory and he appeared to have fallen asleep in his tankard. The frog he was strangely wearing as a hat gave a mournful croak and Victoire had to turn away from him fast so she wouldn't laugh. The only other customers were a young couple making very good use of the sheltered darkness of a back booth.
Victoire's eyebrow's disappeared into her hairline as she realised just how much use they were making of the shadows. Their lips were glued together as if for dear life and their hands were simply everywhere. Victoire quickly turned away from them too her cheeks flushing uncomfortably. She picked at the straw in her drink. Brian was definitely not here. With sudden ferociousness she flicked away the straw and downed the rest of her drink. Scrounging around in her pocket Victoire pulled out the coins she needed to pay for her expensive wait and slid them across the bench top with a smile at the cute bartender.
"Waiting for a shit head boyfriend?" he asked casually. Victoire looked at him sharply one eyebrow raised.
"Excuse me?"
"In my experience pretty girls, like yourself, sitting alone at bars are generally waiting for shit head boyfriends," he said genially looking up over the bench he was dutifully wiping. Victoire laughed.
"Fair enough," she said then grimaced realising that he might not be particularly far off the truth. As she climbed down off the stool reaching for her bag the chime above the door went off signalling another customer. Victoire looked up automatically not actually expecting it to be Brian. As she spotted the familiar mop of straw-coloured blonde hair and lanky frame she felt her expression sour. She sat back down on the stool with a huff. Brian spotted her easily and began to make his way over weaving between tables. Victoire narrowed her eyes as he reached her side.
"You're late," she stated simply and somewhat viciously.
"Yeah about that," he said nervously rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced at the bartender who had returned to his work with an unbelieving shake of his head. She crossed her arms rigidly.
"Let me assure you Brian if you ever leave me waiting alone for over an hour like this again I will personally see to it that your underwear drawer becomes the new residence for a particularly nasty nest of doxies," she said tightly. He seemed annoyed by that.
"As hard as you might find it to believe Victoire I'm not about to drop everything I'm doing just because you want to talk to me. It may surprise you to know, considering you low opinion of me," she rolled her eyes, "that I got offered a position in the Being Division of the Department for Magical Creatures at the ministry and that's where I was when I got your message, at work," he said to the back of her head as she turned to order another of the same drink. The bartender eyed Brian sceptically clearly unimpressed.
"Is that alcohol?" Brian asked suspiciously as the bartender slid the glass across the bench to her. Victoire shot him a lethal glare and turned back to the bartender with a charming smile.
"How much is that?" she asked
"No charge for the pretty lady," he replied with a dazzling smile. Victoire smiled in return though it was the last thing she felt like doing. Brian pursed his lips with a disapproving look that would have made Teddy proud as cradling her drink she led the way through the tables to a secluded booth at the back of the room. Brian's eyes widened as they clapped upon the over zealous couple who had progressed onto intimate gestures that were definitely not meant for public places.
"I'll say what's happening here?" he asked. Victoire rolled her eyes and tugged him away. Silently she slid into the next booth careful to seat herself so that it was she and not Brian who got the interesting view of the next stall, she didn't want him to have any distractions. He sat down gingerly as if unsure of the advisability of touching his surroundings.
Without any preamble Victoire got straight to the point, "Where is Phillius Hartwood?"
"What?" he exclaimed attention focussing fully on her for the first time.
"Where is Phillius Hartwood president of the Hellebore Society for Social Reforms? It must be somewhere rather important for him to have abandoned his post for so long."
"Honestly Victoire you called me all the way over here to ask me this?" he looked at her disbelievingly. Her gaze didn't waver as she patiently waited for his answer her face serious, "Are you sure you're quite alright."
"Perfectly. Answer the question Brian. Where is the fearless leader of the Society you're so devoted to? Don't try to tell me you don't know. I know you're a full member now." She could hear the acid in her own voice so she wasn't surprised by the stutter in Brian's when he finally answered.
"N-n-now Vic, don't over-r-r-react it's really not as bad as it sounds," he stammered. Victoire's hand tightened around her wand under the table.
"Spit it out," she hissed her temper stretched thin by a growing trepidation. Then he said the word she'd been dreading, the word that changed it all.
"Azkaban." For a second Victoire completely blanked out, shock transporting her to a very dark place.
With her head back against the booth and her eyes closed she somehow managed to spit out, "What for?"
Brian unable to hold Victoire's intense stare dropped his eyes to the worn tabletop and muttered, "For inciting violence against centaurs. He convinced an entire village up North to attack the centaurs living on their border. A lot of centaurs were killed and a couple of witches and wizards along with them. Horrible to-do."
Victoire felt her stomach roll nauseously, and she was fairly certain it wasn't because of the amount of alcohol she'd drunk. Brian's shoulders slumped visibly at the look of absolute revulsion she could not keep off her face.
"But see here," Brian said quietly, "every group's going to have their extremists. Doesn't mean we support his behaviour. Not all of us are..." but Victoire tuned him out completely. Her brain had frozen on his words. And all she could think numbly was that Teddy had been right, again. She should have trusted her instincts. How could she not have seen it before?
Even the name was a telling clue she realised with a groan. It came to her now as things do when you where to look for them. Hellebore used in some potions for protection against evil, and alone as a purgative. They wanted to purge the wizarding community of beasts. Victoire felt like smacking her head against the table. Actually she wanted to smack it against something not quite so gentle, like dragon scales.
"And was there any particular reason that everyone so carefully avoided telling me?" she asked hoping if she kept talking she wouldn't throw up.
"They didn't want to scare you," Brian said, "I believe they thought you would judge us all on his actions." Didn't want to scare me off more like Victoire thought waspishly.
So wrapped in the novelty of being in a relationship with Markel, oh all right any relationship, she'd never stopped to question anything they'd told her. She'd just skipped blindly into their waiting strings. And she bet that's what they'd been counting on.
There was still of course the small chance though that Markel hadn't been using her so shamelessly, that he did in fact love her a little and simply hadn't known himself. After all hadn't he been the one who'd told her he'd never had mind for the business himself. A niggling voice in the back of her mind said he'd seemed perfectly at home in the Society on both of her visits but she squashed the thought viciously.
"Does Markel know?" she was hoping against all hope that Brian would give her an out of what would surely come next.
"Well," he said thoughtfully, "I would imagine so since his father is the vice president." Creighton S. Creighton Saunders Victoire realised with a jolt. Chapter head my arse Victoire thought, that bastard.
"Where are you going?" Brian said stopping mid rant as she slipped out of the booth. She looked at him vaguely, she'd almost forgotten he was there, and then inclined her head towards the drink before her.
"I'm going to need something a hell of a lot stronger than that," she said.
"I'm not going to buy you any alcohol. Lupin would kill me," he said with an uncomfortable frown. That shook her out of her daze.
"The chivalry is appreciated," she said sarcastically, "but unnecessary. I think I have adequately demonstrated that I am perfectly capable of procuring alcohol for myself when Teddy isn't around to stop me," Brian looked like he was about to say more but she swiftly turned on her heel and stalked towards the bar. She had no desire to talk to him ever again.
"Give me a shot of your strongest drink," she said fiercely to the nice bartender from earlier. He didn't seem surprised.
"Shit head boyfriend?" he said understandingly sending an innocuous looking green liquid shot sliding down the bar toward her. Victoire nodded downing the entire thing in one go.
"Major shit head boyfriend," she said slamming the glass back down on the table, hard, motioning for another.
"Be careful that stuff is strong," he warned her. She gave him a sickly sweet smile as she downed the second glass and handed over the money in one swift succession. Brian was suddenly at her shoulder. The bartender gave him a filthy glare and it occurred to Victoire that he probably thought that Brian was her boyfriend. The thought made her want to laugh. In fact she found she was already giggling. Apparently the shots worked faster then she'd thought.
"Brian's not my boyfriend," she informed the bartender with a giggle and watched him visibly relax. Sighing she pushed her bag higher on her shoulder and turned towards the door. She'd taken maybe four steps before Brian grabbed her shoulder tightly.
"Wait a minute," he said turning her to face him, "You drag me all the way here at this time of night and now you're just going to leave?" he said indignantly. Victoire blinked rapidly trying to steady the dancing, blurry image that was his face.
"I'm sorry," she said dazedly raising a hand to her face, "I guess I don't feel much like myself right now." Brian looked at her in alarm as she swayed dangerously.
"Victoire you don't look so well," he said. She brushed his worries aside and took a few more steps before the full effect of the shots hit her like a bludger in the face and she stumbled almost falling over. Brian caught her awkwardly, and Victoire couldn't help thinking how easily Teddy would have done it.
"Wow," she said stunned as the room swung giddily.
"Told you those shots would get you," the bartender said wickedly.
"How are you ever going to sneak into the castle like this?" Brian asked propping her up with an arm around her back. Victoire blinked at him dizzily before a vague memory occurred to her. Her thoughts felt fuzzy though and it took a while for her to frame her idea into coherent words.
"My Uncle's," she slurred.
"What?" Brian asked completely bewildered. Victoire fought hard to keep her thoughts straight as she spoke.
"Take me to Wheezing Lizard Weasels," she said dazed.
"You mean Weasley Wizard Wheezes," he clarified. She nodded stupidly.
"My Uncle lives there," she said her head nodding forward, "He'll find a way to sneak me back in."
"Okay," Brian said.
After the war anything with the Weasley name was guaranteed instant success and her Uncle's joke shop was no exception. Not that they hadn't made quite a tidy sum before the war broke out. The small by owl mail business her Uncle George and his twin had started in their school years now exported world-wide and it was almost as common now for Victoire to be recognised as the niece of the famous joker king as the niece of Harry Potter.
Despite all his success Uncle George and Aunt Angelina still lived in a three bedroom apartment above their second ever shop in Hogsmeade. He'd once told Victoire, in a fit of drunkenness he'd probably now forgotten, that it was because he felt guilty not being able to share the wealth with his brother. Victoire had never met her Uncle Fred but she'd heard such grand stories about him ever since she was little felt she could understand her Uncle's despair, and guilt. The world had lost much more than a joker when they'd lost Uncle Fred.
Still it meant that her Uncle George was within easy reach if one of the Weasley kids needed him, like now.
Victoire woke late the next day, thankfully a Saturday, to a blinding headache and absolutely no idea how she'd gotten back to bed. This seemed to be happening a lot lately. On her side table was a glass pitcher of a rather thick looking brown potion and an envelope sealed with her name. Groggily Victoire picked up the note first.
Drink this it will take care of that hangover. You owe us an explanation or Angelina's threatening to owl your parents.
Uncle George
P.S. I'm so proud (But don't tell Angelina I said that)
She plugged her nose and downed the foul liquid in one gulp thinking how strange it was that the damn liquid reminded her so much of Teddy. What she would have given to have him here right now she thought as she flopped back on bed with a groan. Just the offer he would have given to beat Markel to a bloody pulp would have cheered her immensely, even if she'd never let him go through with it, maybe. She'd never thought she would actually be glad one day for all his stifling over protectiveness.
Forcing herself to get up and walk on ungainly legs to her dresser Victoire gave herself a little shake. Now this wouldn't do at all she thought grimacing at the ragged face peering back at her. She had a major confrontation to prepare for she couldn't afford to be thinking about absent best friends. Especially best friends who would offer nothing but 'I told you so at the news.
Using her fingers Victoire threw her rumpled hair into a rough ponytail. She pulled the first jumper she could find, a light blue creation her grandma had knitted, over her head and added a slick of colour to her lips before glancing at her reflection critically. Victoire sighed she looked, and felt, like absolute hell not exactly how she would have chosen to confront her soon to be ex but she supposed even her Veela heritage couldn't help her with the bags under her eyes. Still she thought optimistically no reason to postpone the inevitable. Squaring her shoulders resolutely Victoire took one last deep breath before she marched out of the comfort and safety of her dorm into a very unpleasant future.
Twenty minutes later having been waylaid by Peeves who sung annoying ditties about love before a well-aimed vase hit his head and Victoire was standing before the door of the head's common room. She could only have assumed Markel got the position due to his father's connections but there it was. Now that she was actually here she was beginning to have second ideas. What if it was all just a horrible mistake? It could be couldn't it? After all Brian did not have a history of being perfectly honest with her.
Victoire gritted her teeth she was a Gryffindor damn it where was all that bravery the sorting hat could see. Biting her lip Victoire rapped hard three times on the door. She heard a muffled thud then silence. Though someone was clearly home no-one answered the door. Victoire took a moment to control her anger before raising her fist again he wasn't going to ignore her. This time her pounding was insistent and unrelenting. She didn't let up until she heard someone stumbling round inside and Markel's handsome face appeared at the door.
"Victoire? What are you doing here?" he said clearly rattled. He minimized the already minimal gap in the door that he was leaning out of uneasily.
"Can I come in there's something I really need to talk to you about? It's important," she said watching him run nervous fingers through his unusually messy hair.
"Ahhhh, look Vic now's really not a good time," Markel fumbled. Victoire's eyes narrowed.
"Trust me you definitely want to be the first to hear this," she insisted forcing her way into the head's common, where, she met the reason for Markel's reluctance.
If Stephanie was shy about being seen in so little clothing she didn't show it propping hands on her full hips and glaring at Markel, "Not her again." Victoire stared at her in complete astonishment, looking at Stephanie's skimpy lingerie blankly. Strangely the only thought going round her head was well it's not Teddy she's stalking.
Victoire didn't need time to let the full consequences of what was going on sink in, "How could you?" she accused them voice throbbing with the threat of angry tears.
"Oh don't act the innocent," Stephanie interrupted airily, "You stole my boyfriend, I'm just returning the favour," Stephanie drawled with infuriating calm, bending over as she did to retrieve her school uniform from under Markel's bed, affording Victoire a very interesting view. Victoire flushed angrily. It was immaterial that she'd been on her way to dump Markel moments before. This was a matter of humiliated pride.
"Look I'm sorry Teddy dumped you but that was nothing to do with me," Victoire said heatedly.
Stephanie looked to Markel with an incredulous laugh then said to Victoire slowly, as if she found her particularly daft, "I wasn't referring to Lupin." Both girls glanced at Markel standing hand still on the doorknob in horrified silence significantly.
Victoire closed her eyes and shook her head as if that would shuffle her thoughts into a pattern she could follow, "What?" she said weakly.
"Oh you're right I should have said tried to steal my boyfriend because as you can see," she said as she shimmied into her tight school skirt, "you haven't exactly succeeded in running me off."
"But Teddy?" Victoire unable to let go of that one idea.
"Please, Lupin was just a means to an end, even if he was a rather pleasant one. For a minute there I'd even thought he'd done his job. Not that he'd known of course. The way he went on when he realised the blind was up and you'd seen everything, honestly," Stephanie said rolling her eyes, "Nevertheless for a while there it seemed to work. You went off my Markel for a bit and every time you'd dismiss him so cruelly he'd come to me for comforting. But," she said buttoning up her blouse languidly, "it turns out you're not just too stupid to notice your boyfriend snogging another girl three stacks away you're also too stupid to recognise your own feelings."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Victoire growled feeling her face grow hot with humiliation. Stephanie's hand paused on the top button and she looked at Victoire in astonishment.
"Blooming hell," she said, "you're worse than Lupin. He at least is in denial but you're so naive you haven't even realised."
"Stephanie," Markel said warningly. Victoire didn't know why he bothered there really wasn't anything more Stephanie could say to make this worse.
"Come on Mark! Don't pretend you haven't been complaining about how much of a pain it is having to sneaking around her all the time. I'm just making our lives easier," Stephanie said in irritation. She turned to Victoire who swayed dangerously in the middle of a Persian carpet, "I must say for such a naive princess you do have a most uncommon talent for interrupting clandestine meetings. That time in the Owlery I was there, or should I say there first. And we were having such a wonderful time at Christmas before you went and ruined it. Honestly. It really is most tiresome..."
"Indeed," Victoire said tightly. Stephanie seemed too interested in listing her litany of all the ways Victoire had ruined the moment to notice Victoire's hand slide into her pocket.
"...and now you're forcing us out of this deliciously comfortable bed," Stephanie concluded indignantly.
"Oh by all means don't get up on my account," Victoire said whipping her wand up and bringing it down with a yell. Stephanie fell right back down onto the bed she was so loath to leave, though Victoire doubted being petrified made it half as comfortable as Stephanie had wanted.
"Vicky!" Markel reproached sharply rushing towards Stephanie anxiously, showing the first sign since Victoire had walked in that he even had any attachment to the girl screeching unpleasantries at her.
"As for you," Victoire said and Markel instantly backed away from Stephanie or more probably the wand pointed at him portentously. His was lying uselessly on his bedside table. Victoire's relatives could have taught him a thing or two about protective measures. Actually if they got wind of any of this they probably would.
"Everyone," especially Teddy, "told me and told me how you were only using me that you would hurt me horribly. They said I was being an idiot for jumping into corridor with you let alone a relationship and I just kept defending you and defending you. I almost ruined a life-long friendship over you," which Victoire found she was maddest of all about. She kept advancing towards Markel wand raised until his back collided with a shelf of Quidditch trophies and he had nowhere left to run, "Maybe I am a gigantic idiot for ever believing in you but you're an even bigger idiot," she smiled fiercely, "for not disarming me sooner."
She cast a quick succession of hexes and curses, Bat-bogey hex, Jelly-leg jinx and other nasty spells that guaranteed Markel's next few hours of existence would be unpleasant and made an impressive showcase of her family's finely honed duelling skills.
With legs turned to Jelly Markel crashed back against the trophy case causing his precious awards to drop heavily on his head and making it near impossible for him to knock away the bat shaped boogies attacking his face. Victoire observed this all for a few minutes with satisfaction then turned on her heel and walked across the room. She paused at the doorway.
"Oh and I almost forgot," she said sweetly, "I just came to tell you Mark that we're over and so is any association I have with your vicious Hellebore Society. She slammed the door behind her with what she hoped was damning finality.