Truth
Character: Victoire Weasley
By:
DoubleCaramel (Karla - Ravenclaw)
n.lie
1. A false statement deliberately presented as being true; a falsehood.
2. Something meant to deceive or give a wrong impression.
3. To convey a false image or impression: Appearances often lie.
TRUTH
October 23, 2022
"C'est vrai? Réponds moi! Is it true, is it fucking true!" Victoire Weasley shouts, her eyes shining furiously and threatening to spill tears as she looks at the group of woman who betrayed her, spreading filthy lies behind her back. They all stand speechless; no one knows what to say.
Dominique steps tentatively forward. "Vicky we - we weren't serious, you know . . ." Her words trail off and she reaches out her left hand to grab hold of her sister, but Victoire pulls away. Her eyes glare daggers at the younger witch.
"I want the truth!" she screams, waving her hands at the crowd gathered around her. "You all think I am two-faced slut who is only getting the job because of her legs! Admit it!"
"Vicky calm down, you are making a scen-"
"Well, let me make a scene! I want the truth!" She stops, closing her eyes as tears of anger rather than sadness cascade down her cheeks. No one answers her, but the faces, both scared and holding disgustingly knowing and reproachful expressionstell her enough. "Forget it! I don't need your lies. I quit!"
She storms out, knowing deep down that even with her unprofessional tantrum and her blotchy red-eyes, most men there wouldn't think twice if they could have her. Bastards. Maybe, the fact that the whispers she heard her colleagues and her own sister sprout venomously held some truth to them was why she didn't stay to hear an answer.
She wants them to tell the truth, but in the end she doesn't want to hear it.
"Maman! Who is prettier, me or Dominique?"
"Oh, ma petite, you are both pretty in equal mannerz."
Lies.
Her mother had never heard Dominique cry at the door before creeping into Victoire's bedroom, calling her names. Again and again, the guys she'd like had said no because she wasn't like her, because Dominique's hair wasn't as long and blond as hers, but fizzy in the rain, because her eyes weren't blue, because her skin wasn't pale and freckle-free . . . In short, because Dominique wasn't her.
Yet she knows if her own mother told that to Dominique, it would hurt her little sister who said she loved her, even when she bad-mouthed her behind her back. Victoire wants the truth, but the truth hurts.
"Hey, Vicky." Suddenly, the voice of her old boyfriend, actually, her old fiancé, brings her back to the present. She finds herself standing in the Ministry hall. She broke it off with him after they stood for an hour in front of each other in a restaurant (a fancy one) and couldn't find anything to say.
He used to tell her he was with her because she was beautiful . . . beautiful inside. But he never managed to compliment her in anything but her deep blue eyes (his words not hers).
Her back arches against the cold Hogwarts wall, next to the old Potions classroom. The boy with psychedelicblue hair trails kisses down her neck. He says he loves her.
"You are the most intelligent, fantastic person in the world."
She giggles, unable to do anything else when she sees his flustered face and dishevelled hair.Don't you think I am just a little bit pretty?"
"Well, there's that too." They laugh, and she thinks he really means he is with her for her head and not her legs.
Lies.
He was only with her because of one thing, a thing that turned into marriage because of his godfather. She was lucky she had left him; they had nothing in common. They were just two pretty people who looked even prettier together.
She wished her family could have told her the truth, told her they didn't suit each other, that they didn't know anything about each other... Perhaps, though, she hadn't wanted to hear the truth.
"Vicky! Are you there?" He is holding her hand and talking loudly to her. She notices she is still in the middle of the Ministry stairs and Teddy's eyes are now blue, the same blue as her father's. His appearance is another lie; she wonders what he truly looks like. But then, would she like his real appearance, or prove to be as vain as he is?
Tears are falling down her eyes again. She isn't weak, she knows it, she is strong, intelligent Victoire Weasley, nor futile weak Vicky. She pulls her arm away from the man holding it, her ex fiancé, Teddy freaking Lupin who is nothing but a liar in her life, nothing but another liar.
Running down the stairs, she reaches a fireplace, almost knocking down an old lady (who is carrying too many cats for her weight) and grabs fistfuls of thegreen powder that will take her home. She just wants to be alone and find the truth . . . or discover if she really wants to find it at all.
She closes her eyes and shouts, "Shell cottage."
Out of the fireplace, her eyes scatter her surroundings crazily holding a glint of madness; her dad is, as usual, reading a newspaper, ugly scars adorning his face . . . He used to tell her he got them from a Quidditch accident.
It's Christmas Eve and they are celebrating at their house that year. Everyone is chatting happily and six-year-old Victoire sits happily on her father's lap "Papa, did the Big Bad Wolf give you those scars?"
Her Daddy's face turns blank and a dead silence takes over the room. Nobody quite notices, but her father's right hand is and clutching his own knee painfully. "Who?"
"The Big Bad Wolf, from 'Little Red Riding Hood'. Aunty Mione told us the story the other day."
"Nonsense." It's her uncle Percy that answers.
Lies.
The house itself is a lie.
Her parents always told her the house was built on love, but it was a lie. She had to learn this in class, in front of the two dozen students who took History of Magic with her. Even worse, she had to learn in from a ghost, a creature she deeply despised, because they stay on earth in fear of knowing the truth.
There was a dead House Elf buried in her backyard, the backyard where she used to play hide and seek with her brother and sister and build mud castles.
"Papa, who am I?"
Her father, who was reading the newspaper and hadn't properly acknowledged his eldest daughters arrival raises his head up to find her covered in floo powder, not moving. "Not again," he mumbles to himself.
"Did I even deserve the job as Chief Attendant of Witchcraft? Or did you get it for me again? Or was it my legs, my breasts, my ars-?"
"Enough! Victoire, I don't know what you're going on about but -"
"But nothing! Lies, they're all fucking lies! I am messed up and nobody gives a darn about me." She stops; regaining her breath before deciding her father is the one to blame. "It's your fault, you know, for marrying a part-Veela instead of a normal woman-"
At Fleur's mention he folds the newspaper and gets up, facing his daughter at eye level, "You will not speak of your mother that way!"
But Victoire ignores him and continues her rant. He must know. "-who gave birth to me on the day your brother and I don't know how many others died! My life is crap and it's your fault, because of your lies! I hate you people." She falls on the floor, defeated, but her father doesn't back away fromher tantrum but kneels next to her and says in a calm and gentle voice words that aren't gentle at all.
"Now, listen. It's not my or your mother's fault that your life is the way it is." His hand ruffles his hair in frustration; he doesn't know how to tell her what she doesn't want to hear without hurting her.
"You should be thankful everyday for just being here. Many people died to give you the place you know in society, and many are still in worse situations than you. Some people wish they could be complaining about beauty or positions in life that they might not deserve; you should see the world one day."
He lifts himself up, not tearing his eyes away from hers. "The world outside this little box of truth and lies that you made in your head. Things aren't black and white. You may hate me, but I still love you, even though you are a spoiled brat."
He leaves. He said the truth. She doesn't know what to do, so she cries. It has all gone too far. Maybe it's Dominique's fault; after all, she started it. Victoire doesn't know anymore. She just wants it to be over; she is sick of lies. She wants to be normal, to live knowing the truth, the truth she hates to hear.
Her mother comes to her, hugs her and kisses her head saying her Papa doesn't mean it. She sings her a lullaby and makes her fall asleep.
She wants to ask how many times she has had these breakdowns, but she is scared of hearing the truth, knowing for certain that it may have been more than once. She falls asleep in her mother's arms.
n.pl.truth
1. A statement proven to be or accepted as true.
2. Sincerity; integrity.
3.That which is considered to be the supreme reality and to have the ultimate meaning and value of existence.
October 26, 2022
She apologizes.
To her father, to her sister, to everyone. She pretends the lies her sister tells about her in the Ministry bathroom don't affect her. She tells Teddy she is sorry for running away, and she gets a job with Uncle Ron at the shop.
She smiles and is happy,until someone else tells her about the lies going behind her back and she once more wants to find out the truth . . . The truth she doesn't want to hear, the truth that she can't handle.
A young brunette wants to buy Edible Dark Marks, Victoire smiles and pretends to care, because the little girl wouldn't want the truth. Not even Victoire wants it.
The truth is in the end nothing but the fact that she is running away from lies (or is it the truth?) making more up in the process. It hurts knowing that her life is nothing but shards of broken glass and that the only thing that saves her in the end of the day is her name and her beauty.
The brunette looks up at her and smiles "Thank you, miss. You are very pretty."
It is the real, futile truth: In the end, she is nothing but a pretty face.
Victoire Weasley
Successful; Mother of Two; Deeply Missed.
Lies.
A/N: The Beta for this one-shot was the lovely Julia (Julia Claire – Ravenclaw). She is made of awesome. ^_~