It was the eve of Friday. Victorie was cooped up in her dorm's bathroom. She was assessing herself obsessively in the mirror, something she often found herself doing. She studied her skin, her fringe, her teeth, the tip of her nose, the depths of her eyes and everything beyond, right down to her eyelashes.
Walpurgis was in there with her. He was sitting on top of the toilet, licking his paw and scooping it across his face repeatedly.
Victorie turned her attention toward him. She ran her hand through his shiny black fur and bent down to give him a light kiss on the head. The disruption made him stop what he was doing, jump off the toilet and sneak through the door crack. She cursed herself for not leaving the cat to his peace.
Before leaving the toilet she looked down one last time at her outfit — a beige skirt and a large knitted brown jumper, not necessarily dressed up, but still looking nice enough for a date.
A date she would be late for if she didn't just bite the bullet and come out of the toilet.
The moment she closed the door behind her to the bathroom, the dorm entrance also opened, letting in a cascade of volume from the common room and along with it Maya's presence.
"Where are you going?" Maya asked inquisitively, perceptive enough to understand that Victorie was going somewhere, but not blessed enough to get to find out where to.
"For a walk." She explained and grabbed her bag that lay on the floor next to her bed.
Hearing the curious amount of music and talking coming from the common room made her feel less compelled to leave however.
"It was still fairly quiet when I came back from class earlier." She remarked.
Maya had gone to root through her nightstand. "Yeah, well at the start it was just the usual weekend excitement, and then it sort of took off from there and kept escalating." She straightened up, now with a CD in her hand and said, "You should join us."
"No I have a-" She was about to go on, but something about opening up still didn't sit right with her. "...I can't."
"Okay, well if you change your mind." She smiled and walked up to the door. Victorie got ready to leave with her, gripping tightly around her satchel.
They stepped out into the common room. From the top of the staircase she looked down at the unusually large amount of people making up the common room that day, some of them not belonging to their house were dotted around as well.
Most of the people were crowded around the fireplace, drinking butterbeer and talking over the music. Teddy was right in the thick of it, with more than one person tugging at his sleeves.
It was the sort of thing that seemed to have just amalgamated, without any invitations needing to be sent out.
Maya walked up to the gang while holding up the CD. "I found it!"
Victorie crept behind her in the background, but made her way in the opposite direction. She caught Teddy's eye line, and he watched her escape out the portrait hole.
Once she made it into the corridor, everything suddenly felt better. There were a few people out and about in the castle on her way down to the entrance. The same mood that was in the common room persisted out there, but without all the pressure.
Everyone seemed jovial because it was Friday. They'd had pumpkin pie for dessert at dinner, and the hallway still smelled sweet. All the candles were lit leading down the grand staircase, casting their light on the thick gold frames of the portraits and on the stone walls, making them appear warm in colour.
She let the staircase lead her all the way down to the third floor. The end of the staircase was their agreed meeting-spot, so she sat down on the bottom step and popped out a book to read in her wait.
It was the book Ethan had lent her. She looked over the cover. It was lilac with gold letters that read, The Lavender Waltz, with an illustration of two sprigs of lavender underneath. She opened the book up, and on the first page in small letters it said:
Herbalism and its occult uses
She was about to turn the page, but heard Ciaran call her name. He approached her with a small wave and a big smile.
Once standing she returned the smile and took him in. He was in a forest green turtleneck and shiny shoes. His black and perfect curls fell over his rounded glasses. But the more she saw, the more her smile faded. Suddenly she felt nervous instead. Alas she put her book back in her bag and told herself not to let it get to her.
But almost immediately it did. "The book I'm reading is very interesting." She let slip out in an effort to sound intellectual.
Ciaran perked up, immediately intrigued. "Oh, yeah? What's it called?" He asked.
Victorie panicked. She could not for the life of her recall the title she had just read. By every second that passed the pressure got greater and every thought more difficult to process, until most of her working knowledge of how the world worked seemed gone.
Finally the pressure got too great. She had to give Ciaran something. He was staring at her with so much anticipation.
"The Waltz — no! Umm... hold on... it's... slipped my mind." She stuttered.
He forced a little laugh. "That's okay."
"Shall we go?" She asked and hurried forward.
Ciaran caught up with her. They followed the corridor and turned a corner until they were at the Clock Tower Entrance. But they didn't stop for long. The two passed under the swinging clock and went out on the courtyard.
When Victorie stepped outside, she was hit with a chill. She retrieved her Gryffindor scarf from her bag and wrapped it tightly around her neck, pulling it up over her mouth in an attempt at making her as impervious to the biting weather as possible.
Clouds sealed the sky off and fog lay over the mountains above them. It was quite beautiful, but Ciaran gave a sigh. When he looked at her he forced a smile and led her onto the Wooden Bridge. They stopped in the middle and looked out across the Black Lake. The wind was still and so was the lake.
"It's beautiful." He said. But the shiver in his voice undercut the sentiment.
"Gorgeous." She agreed.
They kept walking along the bridge. "Hold on." Victorie stopped and slid her wand out from its attachment on the side of her satchel.
"What are you doing?" He asked.
"Thought I'd conjure something to keep us warm." She said expertly and pointed at her wand.
"I can do that." Ciaran said and began searching his pockets for his wand.
Victorie watched him pat his pockets and twist and turn. It seemed so pointless. She didn't understand why he felt the need to offer when she was perfectly able.
"That's okay. I've got it." She assured him and raised her wand.
But in that moment Ciaran finally managed to whip his wand out. "You shouldn't have to do that, I'd be happy to." He said with a warm smile, as though he was being courteous for sparing her an inconvenience. "Really."
Victorie frowned. "Why can't I do it?" Her voice had lost all its vigour and it came out like a plea.
Only then did he seem to realise that he'd offended her. "Of course you can!" He hid his wand away. "Please, go ahead." He urged her.
She was about to swing her wand, but by then she began to feel self-conscious. "It's okay, you go." She mumbled.
They looked at each other for a moment.
"I'm not that cold actually." Ciaran said, and Victorie found herself tuning in with an agreement.
Feeling the need to change the subject as soon as possible, she went for the simplest thing she could think of. "So, how've you been lately? We haven't spoken much this year."
"I've been good. What about you? I haven't seen you at the poetry meetings much."
The statement was simple enough for her to deduce. He wanted an explanation for her absence. Teddy would have told her that she needed to grant him what he wanted out of the interaction. But something restrained her.
"I've been good too." She chimed, avoiding eye contact.
Conversation faltered. Knowing full well that it was her turn (he had after all been the last person to ask a question, and she had to fulfil her end of the bargain and keep the conversation going) she racked her brain for something to say, something she could further the conversation with.
All she could think of was herself swimming against a stream. Every time she pushed forward she was met with another stream of water coming toward her.
"I joined Slytherin's Quidditch team." He tried.
At the mention of Ciaran and Quidditch her deprecating vision was blown away.
"Really?" She asked.
He looked at her. "You sound surprised."
There was something in his voice that she didn't like. It felt like more counter current moving toward her. She wiped away whatever bafflement her facial expression was letting on and took another swim.
"No, I just... Didn't think that that was your thing." But her explanation didn't suffice, or perhaps it had been too late to begin with.
"Why couldn't Quidditch be my thing?" He asked while correcting his glasses.
Despite knowing full well that she would have to answer his question eventually, she still avoided it until she just couldn't stay silent any longer or it would only add insult to injury. "You seem more like the studious type I guess." She shrugged, thinking her explanation was reasonable enough and hoped herself to be in the clear.
"Doesn't mean I can't be good at flying too." He countered as soon as the words had left her mouth.
She didn't know when this conversation had gone from awkward to contentious, but she assumed she had herself to blame. Although she couldn't seem to put a pin on why her reaction had struck a nerve. She made a plan to discuss it with Teddy later.
"Of course not." She tried to smile. "That's really exciting. What position did you make? Seeker?"
He stopped in his place, they were right at the end of the bridge now. "Why do you assume I made Seeker?"
Victorie gaped at him, unsure how to approach the next wave and terrified of what was to follow it. "I don't know." She sighed, feeling exhausted all of the sudden. "I guess I thought you'd make a good Seeker." It was a shot in the dark, but flattery as a last resort seemed a valiant way to drown.
It made him stand a little taller. "You think so?"
"I do." She smiled.
Only the small win came with a small asterisk: she still had a long way to go before she was going to make her way out of this date with her pride in hold. But for now, they stepped off the bridge.
They'd made it to the Sundial Garden. It was one of her most cherished places on the Hogwarts grounds. She went to sit down on a rock and took in the scenery around her. The towering pine trees, larger than life, larger than what seemed realistic. The sweeping mist surrounding the Owlery, she relished in the beauty around her.
Ciaran watched her from his location on the stone opposite her. A smile tugged at his lips. "Would you mind if I drew you while you're sitting right there?" He asked with a hint of a plea for her not to move.
She couldn't help but smile at the proposition. "Okay." She agreed while running her fingers through her hair.
Then he got his infamous beaten up notepad out. Her stomach jolted in excitement. He got his pencil out. She couldn't believe that he wanted to draw her. She felt so special. He put the pencil to the paper. She watched him doe eyed. In one last bit of preparation, he looked up at her. She met his gaze and smiled.
But all too soon she was cursed with an unrelenting desire to look away; to shy away from the intimacy. To her horror she realised she couldn't look away. She was trapped. Doomed to remain a still subject.
He looked down at his notepad again. She was safe. But only so a fleeting moment, because before long he was back to studying her.
All the thoughts of her reflection earlier in the dorm bathroom came streaming back to her. Her skin. Her fringe. Her teeth. The tip of her nose and the depths of her eyes. They were all on display now.
A deep desire to turn out the lights erupted within her, but there were no lights to turn out. If she had been in her four-poster, she could have drawn the curtains. She was overcome with the fact that she wasn't in bed. Why was she not in bed right now? The idea of being anywhere other than in her bed seemed so silly all of the sudden. What had she been thinking?
"Stop." She blurted.
He stopped moving his pencil and looked at her quizzically.
Her tone had come out too desperate, so she scrapped it. "Could you stop, please?" She asked apologetically. "I'm sorry, I don't feel like doing this." As the words left her, she cringed inwardly. The last thing she wanted was to disappoint him.
He paused, looked down at the rough outline of her on the page. "Of course. That's fine." He mumbled. When he looked up at her a moment later, he had already assumed a carefree and smiling disposition, and she was thankful.
Ciaran shut his notepad. All she could think was: why had she agreed to this?
He suggested something, but all she could wonder was: what misstep had she made that led her here? She wasn't supposed to be here. She wasn't meant for going on dates.
Yet when her date began making his way down the steps in the grass leading down the hill toward Hagrid's Hut, she did nothing but follow. Because while nothing could save the date now, nothing could also stop them from continuing on with it, pretending like everything was fine.
Who knew when next she'd be in bed again...
Her date kept up the act impressively though. He kept chatting with her (or at her) as the two made their way down the withered steps.
She tried to reply as best she could, but her voice could no longer carry the correct emotions. She tried to sound cheerful still, but it came out only flat. She tried to react to what he was saying, but every time she did it came out stilted. The longer they talked the farther she sunk into her swamp. The more she thought, the less she paid attention.
Once the date was finally over Victorie rushed back to the Gryffindor common room, thinking that what she had just been through was the sort of experience she might come to refer to as 'the incident' or something like it in the future.
The halls of the castle were pretty much empty of people now. The lights were no longer casting a warm glow on the walls. Instead the stone walls were a lacklustre grey.
She was trying not to think too much about what had happened, knowing full well that she wouldn't be able to make sense of it on her own. She needed Teddy.
Slightly out of breath, she finally reached the portrait hole. After stopping to catch her breath, hands on her thighs, she straightened up as best she could and looked the Fat Lady in the eyes. Tiny strands of her hair poked out in various places, having been rendered curly by the moist air outside.
"Horned serpent." She said dully.
The Fat Lady wore a doting smile, almost condescendingly so. "You look like you need some rest, love." She said.
Victorie closed her eyes and nodded slowly in response.
Then the portrait swung open, letting out whiny tones of angsty pop punk music from inside.
It was loud enough to mostly overpower the crowd of shouting teenagers inside. While climbing through the hole she deliberated which she would have preferred, but supposed the music was more favourable at the moment.
She slumped down with both feet on the floor of the long awaited common room. Like a zombie she slouched, looking out across the flurry of students swirling around the room. It wasn't as crowded as she'd imagined, but it still left much to be desired.
As she made her way across the room, the song switched. Her mind of the living dead focused on the song as if hypnotised by the melody, spellbound by the vocals. The voice sounded familiar to her. People around her began singing along to it, shouting the lyrics to the very energetic anthem. But before she could further unpack what she was hearing, she had to first process what she was seeing.
Across the room, on the same couch she had left him, sat Teddy with an arm thrown up on the backrest and with Delilah captured underneath it. Their faces were close together, chatting with hushed voices. Barely whispers. It was an intimate position, one that could quickly lapse into something more.
As if resurrected by some dark magic, her brain snapped back alive. The blood rushed back through her veins. Her eyes rolled forward again in their sockets. Her bones cracked back into place. Her spirit was no longer rotting away.
She was human again.
Before she would have to witness something she didn't want to, she turned and walked in the opposite direction. It wasn't the way to her dorm, but it was where she saw it fit in that moment.
She worried about what might happen, but reminded herself that she was powerless to stop it. Even though she'd been the one kissing Teddy just the other day, a kiss was not the same as a reservation.
Somewhere deep inside her though, it had felt like it had been. That was something which she now had to re-evaluate. Instead she found herself considering whether she might be able to pre-order a kiss, securing herself a spot.
But she wouldn't want just one. Perhaps she could be a returning customer? Have a standing order of sorts? Or what about a lifetime supply?
She spotted Jamie in a group with Maya and Ethan, they were all singing along to the song. It would have to do.
Jamie was swinging along to the music when Victorie hurried up to him and tugged on his arm to come along with her. He smiled at her dumbfounded for a second, then even bigger once his mind had fully placed her.
She raised an apologetic hand to his company while dragging their friend away, but they were too focused on the lyrics to even notice. Hoping and assuming that no one would even notice it happening, she pushed Jamie inside a cupboard, then snuck inside with him and closed the door.
"Cave inimicum." She mumbled, crossing her wand across the door. Just to ensure that no one would overhear them.
Jamie seemed to grow accustomed to the cupboard quite quickly. He was leaning against the wall, somewhat hunched over to fit the low ceiling. Maybe it was his party-exhilaration talking, but looking at his blissful expression, he seemed right at home.
"What's the deal with socialising?" Victorie burst, unable to contain her frustration any longer. She lit her wand and looked at Jamie expectantly, demanding he give her all the answers there and then.
Jamie squinted at the sudden bright light in his face. "Are you here all week?" He giggled, a little too heartily than what the joke realistically deserved.
Not in a joking mood, Victorie continued as though uninterrupted, "You can do everything right, say all the right things and be trying so damn hard and the other person will still take it the wrong way!"
In a happy twist of fate, Jamie seemed to be just the right person to talk to, for he had no trouble jumping into her mind-set straight away, and he nodded for a long time in full agreement. "Yeah, that's the crux isn't it?"
"Be nice. But not too nice. Ask questions. But not too many questions. Talk about yourself, but for the love of Merlin, not too much!" The mental strain of having to keep it all in her head overwhelmed her. The emotional weight of having to put herself back in that mind place tore at her seams.
"You can never win." She finished breathlessly. The social game was undefeatable.
"If that ain't the truth!" Jamie tuned in.
He'd been about to hit her with another light-hearted quip, but came to notice that she looked to be pretty much deflating in front of him. He was overcome with a desire to hold her in his arms. The feeling was almost sentimental to him at this point. But he couldn't quite tell if he was feeling it, or merely remembering how it used to feel like. On second thought the two were pretty much one of the same.
He pushed the feeling aside, but provided her with a similar tenderness. "The only comfort I can give you is to let you know that everyone is in the same boat. Everyone tries to balance these same notions."
"And everyone is different." Victorie whined. "Someone might want you to be upbeat and cheery. Another might want you to be laid-back and relaxed. How am I meant to know which mood to match?" She sobbed tearlessly and continued complaining, "Still Teddy tries to make it out as though it's so simple!"
"I don't know what he's told you, but I wouldn't put much stock in what he says if I were you. That stuff is only simple for people like Teddy." He said with a cynical twinge.
"Why can't it be simple for people like me?" She pleaded, despite already knowing the answer.
"The only reason things work out for Teddy is because people already have an idea of him when they meet him. One that they already like." He explained.
She was surprised to hear how disillusioned Jamie had become from the view of Teddy he'd had at the start of term. He now seemed to share Victorie's viewpoint that his popularity was a default of his fame.
How come if felt like she had unlearned it somewhere along the way?
She supposed she had wanted so badly to live in Teddy's world for a while, she'd allowed herself to be enchanted by his outlook.
"I can't believe him." She chuckled. "Acting like he's some sort of expert on the subject." It was almost kind of sweet.
"Does he?" Jamie laughed along with her. "Well, in his defence you used to be pretty hard on him. Don't you think he just realised that it was his chance to get you to give him the time of day?"
Gosh. Victorie's pulse quickened at that. If that was true it was even sweeter...
"So in actuality, he's pretending to know what he's talking about so that you'll need him for something." Jamie concluded with a smirk.
Truth be told, what Jamie was describing sounded just like something Teddy would do. Heck, it could've even been it's own module on his course: 'Pretending to be someone you're not 101'
And although it was kind of sweet, the notion that it might be an act punched a hole in the sanctity of their meetings, which she had come to enjoy.
"To be fair, a lot of the time his advice isn't all that bad." She admitted, taken aback by her genuine belief in what she was saying.
"While he is naïve, he does have his clever moments." Jamie agreed. "If you want to hear someone else's advice though..." He bent down slightly to catch her eye-line, one that was currently being directed at the floor in deep thought. She looked up at him, feeling like he was about to say something important. "I don't think attempting to develop expertise on these matters as a way to get people to accept you is going to get you very far. It's a losing battle."
He touched her shoulder comfortingly, thinking the contact warranted enough, but simultaneously deliberating if it would prove to have undesired effects on him, sort of like a gateway-touch.
"Don't tear your hair out getting the crux right." He continued, putting his other thoughts out of his mind. "You're probably better off just accepting yourself and doing your best to treat people right. Some people will like you, some won't. But don't live to try and please the masses, it's a battle you will lose."
"After all, you got me to like you, you got Teddy to like you. Lately it even seems like Maya and Delilah like you." He laughed. "That had me amused when I noticed, I can tell you... Who would have thought? Seven years in and you've finally managed to make friends with your dorm mates." He beamed at her and she felt oddly proud.
Shortly after that they left the protective spell of the cupboard. Victorie thanked Jamie and returned to her dorm. Better yet, she returned to her bed.
She'd got what she needed from Jamie, and she was in her bed. Her curtains were even drawn. But her thoughts still returned to Teddy. It was as if the curtains didn't provide the same effect they usually did. Like she couldn't start to move past her horrible date until she'd told him about it. Perhaps what she really needed wasn't her bed. It was Teddy.
A/N: I received a question regarding Victorie's hair colour, and why I changed it to red instead of blond.
Truth be told I didn't really consider how she is described by J.K. Rowling.
But I think her having red hair works quite well in this story since Teddy's hair is blue (but ever changing),
and orange and blue are complementary colours. Meaning that her hair can often be there to contrast his.
Thanks for the question and the feedback!
Published: 31 March 2022