AN: I'd just like to say thank you so much for all the lovely feedback and support for the very first chapter! I love seeing that. Without further adieu, here's the second chapter of White Teeth Teens - I hope you enjoy it!
Previously on WTT: The students of Hogwarts disembark for yet another year at the school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Carrie can't stop talking about her latest fling with sixth year Ravenclaw, Aiden Boot. First years Fred and Molly Weasley are sorted into Gryffindor, meaning Teddy loses a bet to Victoire.
WHITE TEETH TEENS
(a universal truth)
Monday, 2nd September, 2016
(Victoire Weasley)
"Vi! Vi, get up!"
Victoire was torn out of her beloved sleep by somebody shaking her insistently. Letting a small groan escape from her lips, she cracked an eye open, squinting through the light streaming in the windows to identify her culprit.
What she was met with was a familiar set of hazel green eyes, and a tangle of brown curls. "Nora? Is everything okay?"
Nora laughed lightly, skipping away from the bed and crossing over to her dresser instead. "Better then okay, Vi. No classes today, remember?"
Victoire didn't, in fact, remember. She sat up in her bed and pulled down the covers, running a hand through a mess of pale blonde hair. "What? Why?"
"Sixth years don't have classes on the first day back because they have to visit their Head of House to discuss class options for N.E.W.T levels," said Abigail all in one breath. The red-head was propped up on the end of her bed, flipping through (yet another) book as if she had done nothing more than inquire about the weather.
Victoire couldn't help but grin. "I swear you've got an inbuilt library somewhere in there."
"I can't believe you're reading on our day off. And on our first day back," complained Nora, swiping a tube of gloss across her lips and reaching for a bottle of mascara. She picked up her hairbrush and promptly tossed it at Victoire. "Up you get, Vi. We're going to do something fun with our day."
Victoire rolled her eyes but obeyed, picking the brush up off the floor and tugging it through her own waves. She wasn't quite sure what Nora had in mind, but knowing her friend, she was sure it had something to do with boys. That meant doing her hair and make-up, unfortunately. She wouldn't have even bothered, save for Nora's insistence on such matters.
"It's called studying," Abigail retorted dryly. "You might like to try it sometime, Clearwater. I hear it actually improves grades, you know?"
"Don't be such a downer, Abby." Nora waved her off easily. "Being a teenager is about having fun. I promise that this time tomorrow, I'll be studying my flat out hardest for N.E.W.T's. But look - even Serenity Trelawney isn't here, and she gets top marks in everything."
A sudden thought occurred to Victoire. "Where is everybody?"
"Carrie's gone down to breakfast. She's probably in a closet somewhere, snogging with her newest boy-toy. Merlin knows where Twycross and Trelawney are." Nora pouted in the mirror and smiled, looking pleased with her appearance. "Come, Vi. I'll do your hair and you can do your make-up?"
Victoire gave a playful sigh, but didn't object when Nora gently started threading her hands through her hair. Everybody knew better than to interrupt Nora Runcorn when she was on a roll. Besides, the smaller girl seemed to have a knack for all things girly anyway. Her hair would be in good hands.
"What's the plan?" she asked lightly.
"Well, I heard from the boys that the teams are going out for a friendly game. Or maybe it was practice, I'm not sure. Either way, it's Quidditch! All the fit ones will be out there."
Victoire rolled her eyes and laughed at Nora's enthusiasm. "You have a boyfriend, Nora."
The brunette shrugged, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. "Doesn't mean I can't admire from afar, right? Are you sure you don't want to come, Abby?"
"I'm fine, thanks," Abigail said without looking up from her book.
Nora huffed. "Spoilsport."
"Slag."
"Git."
"Prat."
"Twit."
Victoire squeezed her eyes shut and tried not to smile.
It was good to be back.
...
(Abigail Runcorn)
Finally.
She'd thought it was never going to happen, but eventually Victoire and Nora finished up and left the dorm room. Abigail waited until she could no longer hear Nora's incessant chattering before she shot up and abandoned her book. She paused only to smear some lipstick on and double-check her hair, before she was zooming off and out of the dorm, practically flying through the common room.
"Hey!" shouted James Potter, fellow Gryffindor. "Watch where you're going! You just about broke my new broom!"
Abigail ignored him, instead crawling out the port hole and wandering through the corridors until she was at the designated place. She hovered outside a statue of a knight for a few anxious minutes, but before she could double-check herself, a hand shot out and clamped around her mouth, dragging her into the storage closet and muffling her screams.
Panicked, she bit down on the hand hard, spinning around to face her assailant as the closet door swung shut behind them.
Fortunately for her, it was not a bloodthirsty murderer she was faced with, but Donovan Crosse in all his rugged glory, with his piercing jade eyes and his deeply-defined jawbone.
"Merlin," he swore. "Did you really have to bite me?"
"Well maybe you shouldn't have dragged me in here like some creep!" she retorted just as fiercely. She was still trying to calm her pounding heart. "I thought I was being mugged! You could have at least given me some warning!"
"Yeah, but you were being bloody obvious, standing out there in the middle of the corridor like a knob," countered Donovan.
"Crosse, you are going to be the death of me."
Donovan grinned. "And don't you forget it."
Without warning, he leaned down and pressed a searing kiss to her lips. She grabbed the fabric of his shirt in her fist as they fell back against the wall.
Abigail knew this was wrong. She was cheating on Rory, her faithful boyfriend for two and a half years.
But when Donovan Crosse, local Slytherin dreamboat and the desire of practically every straight girl's dreams had shown interest in her, bookish, red-haired Abigail Runcorn, well...
How could a girl resist?
...
(Victoire Weasley)
Weasleys' Sorted - But Into the Right House?
'Today marks the day of yet another school year! Of course, we already know all about Teddy Lupin, James Potter and the eldest Weasleys, but this year two more of the infamous Weasley children are shipped off to boarding school! Fred (son of George and Angelina), and Lucy (daughter of Percy and Audrey) Weasley. Our sources inform us of the Houses in which they were sorted into. Gryffindor for Fred of course, as we all predicted, but Lucy shocked us all when she did not follow her sister into Ravenclaw, but the House of Bravery instead! Could Percy and Audrey be forcing their child into something she's not? Turn to page 12 for more information on the subject...'
"Don't tell me you're actually reading that," Carrie scoffed, leaning over an intimidated first year to grab a jug of pumpkin juice. Since coming downstairs and finding Carrie already at breakfast, Nora had left to find her boyfriend. "It's all a lot of hogwash, you realise? Rita Skeeter's rubbish."
"You don't need to remind me," sighed Victoire. She remembered the "Victoire Weasley; Did She Use Her Stunning Looks To Get Into Gryffindor?" instalment of first year. Her parents had been furious, and Grandma Molly had burnt the copy as soon as she'd caught sight of it. "I can't help it, that's all."
"I know. That's how she gets all her money if you ask me," said Carrie. She gulped down a pancake so quickly Victoire barely saw it leave the plate before it was gone. "Pass it here, then."
Victoire nudged the paper across the table and swirled her spoon around a bowl of cereal as Carrie skimmed over it, chewing on her breakfast thoughtfully. Really, the sight was almost comical.
"So, how'd it go with Aiden Boot?" Victoire inquired casually.
"We broke up."
"What?" Victoire blinked, surprised. "Oh, Carrie..."
"What?"
"You can't keep doing this, Car."
Carrie bit the end of her spoon and turned the page, pretending to be completely oblivious. "Doing what?"
"Going out with boys and breaking up with them weeks later! And not in a normal fashion, either! I think the longest boyfriend you ever had was for a staggering period of three months."
"Oh," mused the blonde. "Sam Carpenter... Yes, he was cute."
Victoire snatched the paper away from Carrie to grab her attention. "You're going through boys like Kleenex!"
"Clean-what?"
"Kleenex. It's... they're like tissues. It's a Muggle thing," Victoire explained, scrunching her nose up in concentration. "Aunt Hermione introduced me."
Carrie blinked at her like she was crazy. "Right..."
"The point is," Victoire pressed on, "this isn't healthy. Or normal. If you're not careful, people are going to start thinking of you as a slag. And I mean, if you want to be a slag, that's great, good for you, but I know you, and I know you're not that kind of person."
"I just.." for a split second, Carrie looked unsure, "I just haven't found the right person yet. I'm looking for my soulmate, and if I have to date the whole school to find him, then so be it. And I've never actually done anything! Nothing past snogging, so come off the idea that I'm a slag."
Before Victoire could come up with something that wouldn't offend her friend, Nora showed up at the table, tugging a tall, dark-skinned, dusty-haired bloke along with her: Gage Notts, captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. He was an alright guy (after all, he'd let Dom and James onto the team), but in Nora's eyes it seemed he could do no wrong.
"Gage says the Hufflepuffs have booked the pitch first," Nora said brightly. "I think we should go down anyway."
Victoire pulled a small face. "Do we have to?"
The morning was crisp, and even though Victoire had piled on layer after layer, she could still feel the cold seeping in through the crevices. No doubt that the Quidditch pitch would be even colder still. No, she was not going down if she had a say in the matter.
Unfortunately, it appeared that she didn't, because Nora pouted. "Oh please, Vi? Gryffindor has it straight after anyway, so we might as well head down. Live a little, sweetheart!"
Carrie folded up the newspaper and shoved her plate forward with a contented sigh. "Besides, Teddy Lupin will be there, Vi."
Victoire gave her a sharp look. "What's that supposed to mean? You're not planning on adding Teddy to your collection, are you?"
"Merlin, no!" Carrie gasped, fittingly appalled by the thought. "He's cute, but.. it'd be weird."
"I'm going to take your lengthy conversation as a decided 'yes'," Nora chirped. "We'll see you at the pitch shortly, then."
"Isn't Miss Human Library coming with us?" asked Carrie as Nora and Gage walked off, hands grasped tightly.
"If you mean Abigail, no. She's still up in Gryffindor Tower. Reading or studying, I think."
"Of course," sighed the other blonde. "It's like those are her only two functions."
...
(Teddy Lupin)
To nobody's surprise, Teddy was excited to be getting back into the sport he so dearly loved. It had been too long since he'd played a proper game of Quidditch. He and the Weasley-Potters had set up their own make-shift game in the holidays of course, but it was never quite the same.
Ginny, Ron and Harry were often too busy to play, most of the kids were too young to really understand the game (although Roxanne showed promise), and some of them just weren't athletically inclined.
He supposed he'd found plenty of joy in watching as Victoire rocked around unsteadily on a broom, but the shove she'd given him afterwards had left bruises, and to be quite honest, she was scary when she was angry. He wasn't entirely sure whether she'd picked it up from her mother's side, or her father's side. A little bit of both, he reckoned.
"Teddy! Stop daydreaming!" the messy-haired, green-eyed Captain of the Hufflepuff team called. Enter Jamie Singleton, a good-looking guy with flocks of girls ready to attend to him at any given moment, and one of Teddy's best mates.
Jamie was a generally laid-back guy, but he did not take Quidditch lightly. Teddy knew if he didn't play well, he'd be left cleaning up the gear room (a nasty feat by any other means).
"Sorry," Teddy grinned at him. He pulled on his yellow and black Quidditch robes, cricking his neck in preparation. "I was just thinking."
"You've been 'just thinking' a lot lately," Jamie pointed out in a friendly fashion. "Do you forget what House you're in? Because I don't see an opening on the Ravenclaw team, Lupin."
"You're a git."
Jamie clapped him on the shoulder. "One and only."
"If you two are done, some of us actually want to get out and practice," hollered fourth year Uriah Wilde.
"Right then," Jamie nodded, signalling for the team to gather around, cramped as they were in the tiny gear room. "Let's start off with two laps around the pitch, then we'll practice throwing bludgers. I'll be the defender. Now, we've got to practice hard, understand? We're always the underdogs, yeah? Not this season. This season, we take home the prize."
Cheers of agreement erupted from the team.
"I heard that Potter got a new broom," Eliza Haymitch announced, eyes glinting determinedly.
"He did," Teddy recalled with a glum expression. He remembered staying with the Potters, only to have James and Harry return home from Diagon Alley with a little something special. James hadn't stopped gloating for days, but Teddy and Dominique hadn't stopped glowering either. "A Krum 2.0. Signed, too. Harry's got connections."
Someone whistled appreciatively, and Jamie raised his eyebrows. "I keep forgetting that you're close with the Weasleys."
"Are you jealous?"
"Not in the slightest. Bunch of lunatics, they are."
Teddy grinned. "That, is possibly the most accurate description of the Weasleys I've ever heard."
Jamie held up his broom. "Let's get out onto the field, people!"
The Hufflepuff team swarmed out of the gear room and onto the pitch, mounting their brooms and taking off into the greying skies. Teddy followed suit, immediately grinning as he soared through the air, feeling his robes fly behind him and enjoying the feeling of the wind rushing through his (black, today) hair. This was why he played Quidditch. Not to get glory from the cup, not to show off in front of the whole school (although that was a pleasant bonus).
He had to admit to himself that yes, he had initially signed up to please not only Harry and Ginny, but his mother too. He'd heard numerous times that she'd been a right shot on a broomstick.
Thinking about his parents was weird. He knew he was supposed to be sad, and he was. There's nothing quite like knowing that you will never be given The Talk from your dad, or see your mother's infectious smile in person. But the thing is.. Teddy never knew them. Not really. He missed them with all his heart, but not in the way that he missed an old friend, missed their personality and talents. Rather, he missed the notion of having parents, missed the notion of being able to tease his siblings or slam the door in his mother's face after an argument. It was like there was a gaping, empty spot where Remus and Tonks Lupin were supposed to be.
"Lupin! You're doing it again," Jamie called as they finished their second lap of the field.
Teddy touched down and landed clumsily (Harry said he got it from his mother), shooting his friend an apologetic smile. "Sorry."
Jamie rolled his eyes. "Alright, team! You know the drill - lets start off slow with some stretching and crunches, then we'll get right into the thick of it."
By the time they'd finished with practice, everybody except Jamie was groaning about how their muscles ached and how they felt sick from too much exertion.
"I'm gonna puke," moaned Grayson Smith (Hufflepuff Chaser).
Teddy abandoned his broomstick and fell onto his back, letting the blissfully cool dew seep through his Quidditch robes in a fruitless attempt to cool himself down. His muscles burned, he was pretty he had developed a few bruises somewhere along the ride, and his ears were still ringing from the various 'motivational' insults that Jamie had hurled at them.
"If it doesn't burn, you're not doing it right," declared Jamie, wandering over from the gear room after stowing the equipment away.
"That is the worst saying I've ever heard," Teddy remarked.
"Toughen up, Edward," Jamie grinned. Teddy's smile turned into a scowl - Jamie knew full well just how much he disliked people using his first name. "The other teams are coming down to practice as well. We've just gotta get as many advantages as we can."
Harriet Linguini sat up, squinting against the sun. "Speaking of other teams, is that the Gryffindors?"
Teddy turned to look. Harriet was right, a group of people dressed in vivid reds and golds were just making their way in. Among the cluster, he also spotted a familiar wave of blonde hair that he distinctly knew was not a Quidditch player.
"What's Victoire Weasley doing here?" Jamie voiced Teddy's thoughts. "Did she join the team?"
Teddy smothered a smile. "Can't have. Vi can't play to save her life. She's probably here to watch her sister and her friends."
The Gryffindors traipsed closer, brooms in their hands as they approached the Hufflepuffs. Team Captain Gage Notts gave them a polite nod - he was the type to believe in enemy fraternising - but the rest of his team slipped in and started to mingle effortlessly. When they weren't competing, the Quidditch teams often found that they got along well. There was always plenty to talk about, after all.
"Lupin!" called a voice. Dominique Weasley, a bluntly opinionated, stick-in-the-mud sort of girl, with wild red hair and looks (almost) pretty enough to rival her sister's. Teddy had always been close with Dominique. As kids, she'd often hung out with him and Victoire. He was even a little ashamed to say that they'd pinned a lot of trouble on her, but she'd got them back as soon as she was old enough to develop her own skin.
"Dom," he grinned. She threw herself into his arms, and he made a point to groan exaggeratedly. "Gained a couple pounds, have you?"
"Prig," scowled Dominique. "Like I would care if I gained weight. And for the record, I've grown taller."
"Mm, I can see that," Teddy agreed. Dominique had, in fact, grown since he'd last seen her. She'd gone over to France for the holidays to visit her grandparents, and she'd returned with a pretty tan, longer legs and a face that no longer held any of it's childish innocence. Teddy couldn't deny that she had certainly grown up. Although whether he liked it or not, he still couldn't decide.
"I was hoping that I would be taller than Victoire this year," Dominique confessed. Instinctively, they both looked over to the blonde. She was laughing with a group of friends, although he wasn't entirely sure what about.
Teddy shrugged. "You're only fourteen."
"Almost fifteen. You're just like everybody else," she huffed. "Just because I'm young doesn't mean I can't accomplish anything. You don't see Louis being judged for his age!"
"What does it matter if you're taller than Victoire anyway?" asked Teddy, tearing his gaze away from Victoire and the others to refocus back on the younger Weasley.
"Well, I've got to beat her at something, hadn't I?"
"What's that supposed to mean, Red?"
"For the last time, I'm not the only ginger in the family!" Dominique snapped.
"You're the first one, though," Teddy countered. "And you're avoiding my question."
Dominique stayed silent, clearly hesitant. In an effort to convince her he was trustworthy his hair turned a friendly shade of bubblegum pink. She laughed and he grinned. "Gotcha."
"Okay, well.. here's the simple truth of the matter. Victoire Weasley has always been the better daughter."
He began to laugh, but she silenced him with a glare that was akin to her sister's. He was now assured that she wasn't joking.
"Don't laugh at my problems, Teddy. You were the one that asked."
"Sorry. Go on."
"The problem is, I'm the second child. The middle child, and the second daughter," Dominique began, as if she was lifting a great weight off her chest. "That's never fun anyway, but then you have me compete with Victoire and Louis. Louis' handsome, of course, and he has this air about him that makes everybody like him, which is so unfair."
"Very true," Teddy conceded.
"Shut up, Lupin. Anyway, then there's Victoire. She's pretty, with all this blonde hair and pale skin and she's got all these friends and she's such a goody-two-shoes that it physically hurts."
Teddy opens his mouth: "Dom - "
"Lupin! Are we leaving or not?"
"Coming!" Teddy yelled to Jamie, cursing his friend's unfortunate timing. "Listen Dom, we're going to continue this conversation later, okay?"
Dominque looked upset but gave a brief nod. Teddy gave her one of his sunniest grins and then ran to catch up with his friend, pausing only to nudge Victoire gently.
"You and your sister are very problematic."
...
Later, during lunch, Teddy sat at one of the tables alone as he attempted to clean his broom. It was something that could probably be done easier with magic, but Teddy found a strange satisfaction in doing it "The Muggle Way", as his Uncles George and Ron would say. His friends (Jamie, Trevor and Winter) were off doing Merlin knew what else, but after a tiring run of practice, he hadn't felt like tagging along, so he was all by himself.
Or so he thought.
"I think that's the longest word I've ever heard you say." Victoire Weasley slid into the seat next to him, helping herself to a bowl of pretzels.
"What?"
"Problematic," Victoire explained with a smile. "It's about the longest word I've ever heard you say. You're practically Ravenclaw material now."
"Haha. Very funny." He reached over to nab some of her pretzels. "Where are your friends, Weasley?"
"Nora and Carrie are ogling over some wizards in Witch Weekly."
"What, you're not interested in hot boys?" Teddy teased.
She shrugged, although her cheeks turned slightly pink. "Not the ones in the magazine. They lack.. personality."
Teddy snorted. "I think you've got enough personality for the both of you."
She rolled her eyes at them and they returned to companionable silence, him scrubbing away at his broom and her chewing thoughtfully on her snacks.
And eventually: "Problematic. I do actually know the meaning, you know. I used it to describe you and your sister. Your relationship is sort of..." He pulled a face, searching for the right word but unable to come across it.
"Lacking? Dwindling? Non-existant?" Victoire supplied. She sighed. "I know. We used to be really close, too. We stopped being so close after she turned thirteen, and now that she's come back from France, it's even worse."
"Have you told her this?"
She shot him a quizzical look. "What am I supposed to say? I want you back in my life and I wish your puberty blues hadn't ruined out sisterly bond?"
"Yeah," said Teddy. In his mind, it was obvious. He said what he meant, and he meant what he said. Dr. Seuss... or something like that. Aunt Hermione was fond of sharing Muggle stories at bedtime.
"You have all the subtlety of a hand grenade," Victoire huffed. Before he could ask, she added: "Muggle bomb. Aunt Hermione. You know the drill."
"Girls are so sensitive," he complained. "I mean, why can't you just say what you're thinking? That would save the rest of us from having a mental breakdown trying to figure out what all your bloody.. signals are."
Victoire whacked him with a roll of newspaper. "That's not exclusive to females, Lupin."
"Whatever."
She propped her arms up on the table and rested her head on her hands. Strands of wispy blonde hair crept into the half-eaten bowl of pretzels, and he pushed them out of the way without even thinking about it. She gave him an odd look, but continued on anyway. "I'm guessing this moral dilemma of yours isn't about me and the rather alarming amount of pretzels I've eaten in the last hour?" She paused. "It's Dominique, isn't it? Who you're worried about."
Teddy hesitated. On one hand, the red-headed girl would slap him for spilling her secrets to her sister. On the other hand, Victoire did have the right to know. Besides, he had no doubt that Victoire would just as easily slap him for not telling her.
"She feels like she's in your shadow," he blurted out eventually.
Victoire blinked in obvious surprise. "Pardon?"
"Dominique. She feels like she's the odd one out. She thinks that you and Louis are pretty and perfect and she's not, and I'm supposed to meet her up in the Astronomy Tower later but I've got no clue what to say and how to make her feel better."
Victoire was quiet for a minute, and she was soft when she spoke again. "Why didn't she tell me?"
When he glanced over he saw that she was frowning intently at the table. "Maybe she was scared of what you had to say."
"What could I possibly say? She's my sister, Teddy! I would never intentionally harm her!"
"You should tell her that," he offered. She bit her lip. Teddy was no good with girls, but he'd known this particular one long enough to figure out just how she ticked. "You know what you have to do now, don't you?"
She looked at him in alarm. "You want me to go to the Tower instead of you?"
"Victoire..."
"That's never going to end well!" she whispered so as not to draw attention from nosy students. She looked positively distraught, arms braced and blue eyes frantic as she searched him intently for any semblance of an answer.
"How will you know if you don't face it?"
At that, she slumped backwards, running a hand through her hair. "You're right. I'll go. But there's no telling what she'll do. If I end up in the hospital wing, it's you I'm throwing under the bus."
Teddy smothered his proud smile and instead returned to his broom cleaning kit. They sat like that for a long while, both daring each other to break the silence first.
She was going to lose. He could see it in her eyes, in the way her lips parted in the way they always did when she was unsure but couldn't keep it in any longer.
However, his grin died at her next words.
"She fancies you, you know?" Victoire broke through.
He just about dropped his broom. "Sorry?"
"Dominique," she said impatiently, turning to face him. "She likes you."
"What?" he spluttered. "Me? As in... me?"
He wasn't repelled by the thought, but it wasn't quite as thrilling as he'd expected it to be. Victoire's hot-headed, red-haired little sister fancied him? Instantly, his mind flashed through every encounter they've ever had, trying to figure out whether any of them had bore some sort of double meaning.
"Yes, you," Victoire laughed.
"Why me?" he asked, bewildered.
She paused to give him a sidelong look. "Well, why not? You're handsome, you're funny, you're.. well, I wouldn't go so far as to say intelligent - " and somehow she still manages to slip in an insult, " - but you're not dim-witted. You're Edward Lupin, Teddy! Who wouldn't?"
"Not even you then?" said the stupid part of his brain.
Her eyes flickered and she grinned, tapping him on the nose. "You come up with the silliest notions, Tedster." She slid out of her seat and stole a pretzel. "I've got to run, it's my turn with Longbottom."
Then she was gone, but that was fine, because he had just been hit with a universal truth.
Victoire Weasley had placed him in the friend zone.
...
(Victoire Weasley)
"Miss Weasley, take a seat."
Victoire obeyed, offering Neville Longbottom a friendly smile as she glanced around the office. It was as classic as the rest of Hogwarts, what with rustic carpets draped across the floor and a warm fire crackling in the background. Still, there were little homely touches that screamed Neville Longbottom. For instance the little terrarium of frogs, the various potted plants growing on the windowsill, or the photo frame of a woman cradling her newborn baby.
"How's Alice?" she spoke without quite thinking, wincing as soon as the words left her mouth. To say things were a little awkward was an understatement. Neville Longbottom was an old family friend, so she was never quite certain whether to address him as 'Uncle Neville' or 'Professor Longbottom'.
Still, it looked like she'd said the right thing, because he burst into a toothy grin. "She's doing great! She had her fourth birthday party last week. Sorry you couldn't make it."
"Me too," smiled Victoire. Alice Longbottom was a little saint of a thing - kind and tenacious like her father, but with a temper that matched her mother's.
Longbottom seemed to jolt back to the task at hand, reaching for his papers. "Right, well, here's the full report and grades for your previous classes. We'll be discussing this a little later, but first - is there anything that you really want to be?"
...
(Carrie Cattermole)
"Um... well..."
The blonde thought for a tough minute as the question hit her. She'd never really taken any thought of what she was going to do in the future. People had asked her loads of times, sure, but she'd often ignored them and carried on with whatever she was doing. Why waste time focusing on the future when you could be enjoying the present, right?
"I mean... you see... I've always thought Quidditch was great," Carrie said lamely. She expected the teacher to scoff, but instead Professor Longbottom nodded and recorded her answer down.
"Anything else? If Quidditch doesn't work out? Or maybe as a part-time job?"
"Well..." she frowned, grabbing for the first job that sprung to mind, "I've always thought the Ministry of Magic sounded alright. Follow in my dad's footsteps, I s'pose."
...
(Abigail Runcorn)
"You have high grades, Abigail," Professor Longbottom said encouragingly. "This means you can take the easy route to whichever job you'd like."
"Well, I've been doing some research," explained Abigail, "and the obvious choice is clearly, the Ministry of Magic. I think the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes would be perfect to catering for my needs and skills."
Professor Longbottom looked faintly surprised. "Well planned, Miss Runcorn."
Abigail shrugged. "I like to be prepared. I excel at that."
"Yes, so I can see."
...
(Nora Clearwater)
"My career?" Nora squeaked upon having been asked the question.
"Yes, Miss Clearwater," nodded Professor Longbottom, his wand hovering over parchment for her response.
"Well, isn't it obvious?" she asked him. "I'd love to be actress. That'd be a lot of fun. My mum says she's always loved movies, and that she'll support me if that's where I want to go."
"Acting is a difficult job," Neville reasoned. "What job would you take up if acting didn't work out?"
"Hmm? Oh.." Nora frowned. "Well... I suppose being a WelcomeWitch wouldn't be all too bad until I got my acting career up and started.
...
(Victoire Weasley)
Professor Longbottom waited patiently, but Victoire still felt slightly anxious. It wasn't like she'd chosen to be something terribly ambitious or charming or exciting. In fact, that was almost what worried her. All her friends, all her family, they talked about dangerous, thrilling jobs that made the heart race and the adrenaline pump. Dragon tamers, aurors, explorers,
Victoire? Well.. what she wanted was a little less exciting. Neville Longbottom was kind, but she didn't want word to spread about her career choice.
Somehow, the Gryffindor head seemed to know just what she was thinking.
"This conversation is confidential, Victoire," he assured with a small smile. "No one else has to know - unless I feel that you're in danger or you need some help."
"No! It's nothing like that," she corrected hurriedly. Victoire Weasley was being uncharacteristically nervous. She took a deep breath to reassure herself. "I think.. Well, I've been thinking, and... well, a healer at St Mungo's wouldn't be half-bad, really. I mean.. I've always done okay in Potions and Charms."
To her surprise, Longbottom's smile grew wider. "St Mungo's is a brilliant choice. The Healers there are beyond friendly."
"Good to know."
"I think you're capable of achieving that," he said earnestly, summoning a folder of papers and flipping them over for her to see. "Let's see.. here! You'll need to have at least five N.E.W.T.s, with a high mark of either 'Outstanding' or 'Exceeds Expectations' at Potions, Transfiguration, Herbology, Charms, and Defence Against the Dark Arts."
Victoire tried not to bite her lip. When the prospect of becoming a healer had occurred to her, she hadn't entirely thought about the high standards that came with the job. She'd never done poorly in school work, but she was by no means a Hermione Granger. Achieving so many high marks in so many subjects was daunting, to say the least.
"Professor, I'm not sure..."
"Let's try it, shall we?" Professor Longbottom suggested, eyes glowing. "If it doesn't work out for you, I can swap out your classes for something else."
"Okay," Victoire agreed finally, after a long internal battle. "I'll trial it."
He grinned. "Great."
...
"Vi! We thought you were never going to be finished!" Nora patted the empty spot next to her emphatically. Victoire slid in, smiling at her friends.
"How did your meeting with Longbottom go?" Abigail asked as Victoire helped herself to the dinner splayed across the table.
"It was alright, I suppose," shrugged Victoire. "I felt really nervous telling him, though. I mean... a healer isn't the most exciting job."
"You want to be a healer? That's perfect!" Nora declared excitedly. "Carrie's brother is a healer, isn't he?"
"Just about," Carrie nodded, voice muffled around a forkful of food. "He's finishing up his apprenticeship this year. If he's lucky, he'll be a mediwizard by Christmas."
Victoire handed Carrie a napkin with a laugh, and Abigail pulled a face of distaste. "Ew, gross. Can't you keep your mouth closed when you eat?"
Carrie opened her mouth, clearly to retort with heavy indignation, but mercifully Nora stepped in before they could start another bout of bickering (as was the usual with Nora and Carrie).
"I'm going to be an actress," the curly-haired girl said proudly. She was met with several surprised looks. "What?"
"Nothing, Nor," Victoire said. "It's just... Well, an actress is very ambitious."
"Especially for a witch of your calibre," agreed Abigail wholeheartedly.
Nora looked faintly upset. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Well, she's certainly got enough drama for the part," Carrie snorted. "I say that you should go for it. Who gives a rat's tail about how ambitious it is! Do whatever you want. The world's a stage."
"That's the sweetest thing I've ever heard you say," Victoire smiled, trying not to gape at her friend.
"Speaking of Carrie - Vi wants to be a healer, Abby wants to work for the Ministry, I'm going to be an actress... what about you?" Nora leaned forward, hazel green eyes flashing in open curiosity. That was the thing about Nora, Victoire supposed. Everything she did just seemed so... genuine.
Unexpectedly, Carrie's mood soured and she sighed. "Can we not talk about this? Literally anything else, I'm fine with."
And that, was decidedly un-Cattermole like. Abigail blinked several times. "If you're scared about telling us your career, we won't bite. I mean, I might laugh, but I'm other than that, I won't even bother you."
"I just want to eat my lasagne in peace, okay?" Carrie burst out suddenly, all in an explosion of stereotypical Gryffindor temper. Victoire blinked in surprise, barely refraining from exchanging a dubious glance with Nora and Abigail. The blonde was known for her attitude and sudden outbursts, but they were almost positive that they hadn't done anything to upset her thus far. Carrie sighed and stood up, picking up her plate of lasagne. Suddenly looking drained, she muttered: "I promised Theodore Wood that I'd give him some tips before next practice."
The three girls watched as the fourth musketeer walked out of the Great Hall and disappeared around the corner, slightly stunned.
"Since when does Carrie Cattermole leave dinner to tutor a second year?" Abigail asked in disbelief.
Nora looked slightly distressed, but she rolled her eyes. "Well, obviously something is bothering her! I don't think I've ever seen her skip dinner."
Victoire decided that it wasn't the best time to point out that Carrie had, in reality, actually taken the plate up with her, instead nodding along.
"Maybe she's just torn up over that snot Boot," suggested Abby.
"Maybe..." Victoire said doubtfully.
...
7:00pm, Astronomy Tower
bring a jacket, it gets cold
- Teddy
Victoire slipped the note into her pocket after rereading it for what seemed like the hundredth time. She wasn't entirely sure why she was so nervous. After all, it was just a meeting with her sister. Her little sister. She'd been potty-trained before Dominique could even utter her first word. She had this under control.
She took another deep breath and hugged her arms closer to herself. Teddy had been right, at least. It was freezing. The wind whipped unforgivingly at her hair and seeped into her bones.
Still, nothing was more uncomfortable than the knowledge that Dominique was jealous of her, Victoire Weasley. How was that even possible? And if it was true... how come she hadn't noticed earlier? Right in this moment, she felt like the worst sister in the Wizarding world.
Before she could worry herself to death with the problems she had conjured for herself, footsteps began to echo up into the tower. The door opened, and light began to stream out into the dark wintery night. The familiar silhouette of her sister peeked out, clearly somewhat disbelieving.
"Teddy? Is that you?"
Victoire took an anxious step forward. "No. No, it's - it's me, Domi."
Dominique came closer, and her features could now be seen clearly. "Victoire?" She seemed aghast. "What are you doing here?"
"I heard that my sister was upset. Why shouldn't I be here?"
To her surprise, Dominique soured instantly. She was a pretty girl, but when her features were twisted into a frown, they seemed to warp the beauty. "Teddy told you," she scoffed. "Of course. He couldn't keep a secret from you, perfect ickle little Vi."
Stung, Victoire took a step back. Her and her sister had had many spats in the past, but she'd never quite heard such venom and animosity from the other girl before. "Don't pin this on Teddy, I practically forced him to tell me the meeting time. He felt that it was a good idea! And he's right! If there's some tension between us, we should sort it out, not talk about each other behind backs like gossips!"
Dominique's eyes flashed dangerously. "You don't get it! You never have gotten it! Then again, you don't need to, because you get everything you want!"
"Domi, that's not - "
"Don't call me that," snapped her sister. "And don't bother coming after me either. That goes to Teddy as well. I don't want to talk to either of you."
Stunned, Victoire watched helplessly as Dominique stormed right back in the direction she'd just come from, leaving Victoire with nothing but the chilling wind and her own thoughts for company.
...
All the way back to the Gryffindor girls' dorm, Victoire mulled over what Dominique had said in her head. Dominique had shouted something about Victoire getting everything she wanted. Some part of her thought that it might have just been something her sister had said in the spur of the moment.
But the other part of her wondered whether... well, whether Dominique was right. It was true that Victoire hadn't had a very difficult life. Nothing compared to the generation before her, of course, but even compared to some of her friends, she had it easy. Her parents were still together, and still in love. They had a pretty house, a decent amount of money, even popularity among the press. They'd never really struggled for anything.
And yes, Victoire was first born, but was she really stealing her sister's spotlight? Victoire had always been a little envious of Dominique, and how she bore so many similarities to the typical Weasley strand, but never had she stopped to consider that Dominique might think in the opposite way. Honestly, Vi just didn't get it. In her head, she'd love to be a pretty red-head with high scores, an attitude that shouted i-dont-care and the ability to fly a broom well.
Maybe it was the fact that they were so different that they didn't get along, Victoire wondered as she traipsed up the stairs. Opposites attract, sure, but opposites attracted trouble with a capital T.
She tried to creak the door open gently as she crept into the dorm. It was fairly late at night, seeing as Victoire had just finished her prefect patrol, so she was trying not to disturb her fellow dorm-mates.
She snuck into the bathroom to grab a shower before bed, but when she closed the door behind her she was met with a pair of familiar eyes, framed by glasses.
"Abigail? Why are you still up?" Victoire asked in a hushed voice, trying to calm her nerves.
For a minute, Abigail seemed stumped. "I couldn't sleep," she said hurriedly. "Anyway, how'd your talk with Dominique go?"
Victoire sighed heavily. "Not well. She got really mad and ran off before I could explain myself. She officially hates me - and Teddy, too." She rubbed at her eyes in exhaustion. "Oh Merlin, what am I going to tell him?"
"Do you want to talk about it?" Abigail asked in concern, fully prepared to cast the Muffliato spell.
Victoire smiled and shoved her friend gently. "Thanks, but no thanks. Go to bed, Abby. Don't make me turn all 'perfect prefect' on you for being up past curfew.
Abigail rolled her eyes as she pushed past. "Like you could get me to do anything. 'Night, Vi."
"'Night, Abby."