Chapter 10 – Saying Goodbye
"I don't have long, Victoire – five minutes – and I think your dad's watching," Teddy told her quietly.
"He's watching from the doorway, but Harry's shouting at him, and Mum's crying," Victoire replied miserably, staring over his shoulder. He released her and just stood back, looking at her, memorising every beautiful detail. Be strong, he told himself. Don't cry, you'll look like a fool.
"I love you, Teddy."
"I love you too, and I'm sorry it's taken me this long to tell you."
A tear threatened to spill from her eye, but Victoire had done enough crying recently and she was determined to stay strong and prove how tough she was.
"I'll talk to my dad," she promised. "He'll see that taking you away from me will make me miserable and, seeing that will make him miserable too, and he'll forgive you one day, I promise."
Teddy nodded sorrowfully. "Don't think of me at Hogwarts. Enjoy your last year – you'll never get another one there, and I promise I will be here waiting for you to come home. And when you do, if you still feel the same way, I won't ever leave your side. And I'll get a job, and I'll buy a house. Wherever you want to go, whatever you want to do, we'll do it, together," he vowed, taking her hands in his own.
Her eyes shone with gratitude. "Paris!" she exclaimed excitedly. "You would've thought we'd have gone some time, what with my mum being French, but my whole life I've been stuck in this house, in this same old town. I want to see the world – to see Paris," she said hopefully.
He chuckled at how adorable she was. "I'll take you to Paris as soon as you leave Hogwarts. Nobody will be able to stop us."
Victoire beamed at him as the wind whistled around the young lovers. She rose up onto her tiptoes and kissed him softly on the lips. It was brief, but tender, and probably the last kiss they would share for a while. For a moment, time seemed to stop, just as it had done when they'd first kissed on that wonderful night, which now seemed like a distant dream. Then it was over.
Teddy had a feeling that his five minutes were up, and he didn't want to push Bill to the limit – if he hadn't already, that was – but somehow his feet were stuck firmly, and he was unable to walk away from his beloved Victoire.
Like a true gentleman, he took one of her petite hands and kissed it romantically, but his eyes widened in shock when he caught sight of his own hand, and dropped hers immediately. "Teddy, what is it?" Victoire asked urgently, shocked by his horrified expression.
"M-my hand," he stuttered, examining his own hand, terrified.
Victoire took it cautiously, squinting her eyes to see what the problem was. "Teddy, there's nothing wrong with your hand. It looks perfectly normal to me", she said calmly, slightly worried.
"Exactly," he gasped.
She frowned. "I'm not sure I understand, Teddy..."
He took a deep breath. "Do you remember that night at my house?"
"Of course. How could I forget?" she asked flirtatiously.
He ignored her tone, and continued seriously. "Do you remember when the lamp shattered and I cut my hand?" he asked.
Her face fell and she looked close to tears again. "Teddy, I'm so sorry – I never meant to hurt –"
"You're missing the point," he said, a little angrily. "That was a deep wound and there's absolutely no trace of it after only two days."
"Two days? That's plenty of time for a cut to heal."
"But you didn't see it the morning after," he protested. "It had practically disappeared by then. I meant to ask you about it, but with your dad turning up and everything, it just didn't seem appropriate."
"And you think it's appropriate now?" she demanded furiously. "The last conversation we're allowed to have and you want to talk about some stupid cut on the back of your hand?"
Teddy tried to stay calm. "Okay, I'm sorry, but please just tell me what you did."
"What I did?" she shrieked. She looked around, embarrassed, and spoke in a much quieter, but still as offended tone. "I didn't do anything. Have you forgotten that you're a Metamorphmagus?" she demanded through gritted teeth.
"Of course I haven't," he said coolly. "There is so much that you don't understand about being a Metamorphmagus."
"Enlighten me then," she said sarcastically.
"Being a Metamorphmagus means I can transform my appearance – it doesn't mean I can heal wounds," Teddy said sarcastically. "I suppose I could transform it into a different shape or change the colour of it, but I do not have the magical ability to get rid of it. Even the idea of it is absurd – that would mean Metamorphmagi were invincible!"
Victoire rolled her eyes dramatically. "Teddy, I think you're overreacting – it's just a stupid cut."
"No, it's not!" he contradicted in a childish manner. "There's something going on that needs to be investigated. Something you did," he said thoughtfully.
"I told you, I didn't do anything!" she shouted hysterically. But Teddy wasn't listening to her anymore. He tried to cast his mind back to that night, searching for any sign of something out of the ordinary, but to be perfectly honest, the whole night had been full of unexpected happenings.
(Teddy was cradling Victoire to his chest. She tenderly kissed his injured hand whilst he lay back, in desperate need of rest. They were now fully clothed. In a soothing way, she began singing softly under her breath, her sweet voice sending Teddy straight off to sleep, before she too, felt her eyelids flicker and close, and began to dream deep, beautiful dreams of her and Teddy walking down an aisle together…)
"You kissed it!" Teddy yelled in excitement.
"I can assure you my kisses do not have the ability to heal wounds," Victoire retaliated, sounding highly irritated. "I am magical, yes, but that theory is ridiculous – anybody could have kissed your hand and it wouldn't make the slightest bit of difference."
"But you're part Veela," he said enthusiastically.
She faltered for a second, considering the possibilities. "Teddy," she sighed, "I really don't think that makes a difference, and you're looking into this way too much –"
"Unless it was your singing!" he interrupted. "You've always been an exceptional singer."
Victoire blushed deeply at this. Compliments and flattery were the real key to charming her, but Teddy was being deadly serious, convinced that the healing of his cut had not been a natural process. He was ignoring Victoire's unwillingness to believe his theory, but he was certain that there was something about her that needed to be discovered.
Could it be possible that something to do with her genetics – the way the Veela and witch DNA combined – gave her some sort of ability to heal wounds through the simple power of her singing? It seemed so unlikely, but as the same time, completely reasonable. After all, anything was possible in the magical world – that was definite. If together Teddy and Victoire were able to control and store this power she could become a magical medical miracle!
Once again Teddy's mind raced back to that night – how he'd sat and stared in his grandmother's mirror, scrutinising every depressing detail of his life, and his desire to make a difference in the world...
(Which is why, he thought to himself, he had to prove everybody wrong. He needed to do something incredible to get his name, and his house, whispered amongst wizards and witches everywhere. But what? And how?)
Could this be the remarkable thing that would change his life? Could he and Victoire hold the answer to a new branch of magical healing? This could be an amazing breakthrough in the development at St Mungo's, if only Victoire had the patience and the faith, and their time together was not so limited.
Teddy tucked a strand of hair behind her ear affectionately. "I'm sorry," he apologised. "I'm not giving up on this idea," he told her with a mischievous grin, "but I guess it can wait until you're out of Hogwarts, and we are in Paris."
Her eyes widened with delight. "Do you really mean it, Teddy? Will we really go to Paris?"
He smiled at her adoringly. "Of course I do – a promise is a promise."
Victoire leant in to kiss him again, but a sharp cough, made the pair twist their heads round in surprise. Teddy had almost forgotten about his time limit.
Fleur stood awkwardly, looking extremely uncomfortable. "I am so sorry, Teddy, but you will 'ave to go now, s'il vous plait," she told him sincerely. He nodded his head in understanding and turned towards Victoire again. There was nothing else to say. What was the point in saying 'I love you' anymore? They both knew it was true, and saying anything else would just ruin the moment.
"Goodbye, Teddy," Victoire said simply. He could almost feel his heart gently breaking, deep in his chest.
And then a daring thought sprung into his mind – a thought he simply couldn't resist.
With one triumphant look back at Bill, who was stood by the house, surrounded by his nervous family, and with the same look of pure hatred and loathing that had been aimed at Teddy for most of the day, a grin spread from ear to ear.
Teddy stared at Victoire, deep into her beautiful blue eyes, and cupping her surprised face in both his hands, he leant down and kissed her passionately, full on the lips, one last time. He kissed her for as long as he felt was safe, before turning back in Bill's direction.
The last thing he saw was Bill's furious expression as he pulled his wand out, ready for battle, fighting the restraints of his brothers. Teddy smiled smugly, and with a mischievous wink he had apparated to the safe boundaries of his bedroom.