Author's Note

I know you've all given up on me... this is getting seriously dreadful. Though I do plan on starting to close up the story fairly soon, so at least there's that.

Guest: Thanks for your review :) And LOL, yeah. Sorry about that. But it is very nice to see you too :P

Moonythewalker: Thanks for your review :) Lingua sbagliata! E grazie mille :D Cercherò di lavorare sulle descrizioni. (For anyone who's wondering what on Earth that means, I told her it was the wrong language, thanked her, and told her I'd work on my descriptions)

Oookay. Let's go on here.

The air smelt of salt. It always smelt like salt, there.

It was an unusually chilly morning, and Victoire had a jumper over an old dress she had found in the back of her closet. There were goosebumps all over her skin.

Louis' head was laid down in her lap, and he was extremely quiet that day.

"Vicky?" he asked, softly.

Victoire smiled down at him. "Yes?"

"It's cold."

"Would you like to go inside?"

"NO!" Louis exclaimed, quickly. "It's nice. It smells like home."

"That's very true. Would you like my jumper then?"

Louis shook his head. "Nooo... I'm good."

"You just said you were cold, honey."

"I'm good." Louis promised, though he shivered.

Victoire rolled his eyes at him. "Lou?"

"I'm GOOD, I promise."

Victoire looked at him, and hated how good he was at lying instantly. Had he not contradicted himself, and had he not been shivering, she would've probably believed him. She had never realised, perhaps never had the chance before. "Don't lie to me, Lou. But I won't give you my jumper if you don't want it."

The little boy looked rather ashamed of himself and hid his face by turning it away into her lap.

She ran her fingers through his hair, silently, trying to think of what to say to her younger brother.

"It's going to be okay."

The words had come out almost without her permission, and she just looked at him. He nodded, not moving from his position. She wasn't sure whether he was just nodding to reply, or because he'd actually understood what those words meant. Words whose meaning Victoire herself doubted all too often.

"I love you."

"Love you too." He whispered, turning around to look at her.

She leaned in and kissed his nose. "More than anything in the whole, whole universe. Even beyond its end."

Louis smiled a little bit. "The universe doesn't end, silly."

She chuckled. "It does, sweetie, it does. But I love you even then."

Louis openend his mouth to answer but then closed it again and nodded. "I love you too."

Vic smiled slightly. "Talk to me."

"Okay."

He said nothing after that.

"Lou?"

"Yes?"

"Talk to me, darling."

"About what?"

Victoire thought about it for a moment. "Anything."

"I want ice-cream."

"Do you want to go get it?"

Louis shook his head. "I like it here. It's nice. It smells like home."

"Lou, it smells like home at home too, you know that, yes?"

"No, because Mummy is sad and I don't like Mummy sad."

Victoire sighed. Louis was ridiculously perceptive to emotions of people around him, even if Fleur hid it rather well. "It's just because Dad's gone. When he's back, she'll be happy again."

Louis' lower lip trembled. "But Daddy's not coming back. Teddy lied."

She frowned deeply. "What makes you say that?"

"Cause... cause..." A huge tear rolled down his cheek, "cause if you love someone you don't go away."

Victoire, wiped the tear from his face. "No, love... no, no, no. Daddy loves you SO much... so much... I promise. Do you trust me?"

"He LIED, it's not true, he's away, he doesn't want us."

"He's coming back, Louis. I promise. And it will be soon. You've been such a patient little boy... you just need to be patient for a little longer, that's all. Don't think Dad doesn't love you. Or want you. Or need you. Don't think that for a second." Victoire said, softly, but firmly.

Louis didn't answer. He just sat up and hugged his knees to his chest.

She wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his hair. It smelt like Louis, it smelt safe and sweet and wonderful. The smell that had her heart swell up, because she just loved him that much.

"Vicky?" He asked, after a few minutes.

"Hmm?"

"I'm cold, can I have your jumper?" He was properly shaking with cold by now.

Victoire took it off quickly, not minding in the least that she was cold as well, as long as he was warm. She dropped it over his shoulders, and he seemed to warm up a little.

"Thank you." he answered, quietly, and then leaned against Vic.

She had in mind to go get a jacket, but the second he was back in her arms, she had no intention of letting go of him, not when he needed her there that much. Being cold didn't matter. Him being warm, and safe, and comforted did.

Teddy was laying on his bed, deep in thought.

Bill wasn't the murderer.

He knew that.

He didn't need proof.

Problem? His wand had made the footprint.

Solution? Someone else took his wand.

That could work.

Problem? He kept it next to him at night.

Solution? Someone stole it.

That part was very much evident, he knew that.

It was clear someone had broken in in the first place. Otherwise Dominique could not have been murdered.

There was, however, no evidence of that.

Except the footprint.

And something clicked.

Of course. Of course. Of course.

Someone had made the footprint. They wanted people to be led to believe that they had climbed in through the window.

And Bill's wand was just a security measure.

That meant... that whoever it was... had access to the house. Could get in.

But who could possibly have access to the house? Apparition was blocked, he knew that.

That left two options: Keys, or floo powder.

Nobody had a copy of their keys, except for Bill and Fleur.

Floo powder was blocked except for family.

He took a deep breath, his mind speeding with the information it was gathering.

Family. What family did they have? Weasleys and Delacours.

Weasleys were out of the question.

Then the reasonable answer should've been Delacour.

But how? How could they? They lived in France.

And besides, it was only theories. No matter how much thought he put into it, with no evidence it would be completely futile.

Teddy sighed and got up. He went in the bathroom and splashed his face with freezing water, and gripped onto the sink so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

He stared in the mirror, his hair was dark, and it was never dark. He turned it teal blue, but the idea that it had changed in the first place bothered him greatly, as he went to drop onto his bed again.