Work Text:
Friday, December 13, 2019
Fleur Weasley sighed and clasped her hands together. "Ah, Bill. You found a perfect tree this year."
Bill only grunted as he placed another box of Christmas decorations on the floor. "I think that's everything."
Another box on the table began to buzz. It had been delivered to Shell Cottage earlier that day. It was more of a small wooden chest, with neat little holes drilled into the sides. Light could be seen flashing from inside.
Fleur patted it affectionately. "Soon, mes chéries. We need to put up the other decorations first."
Victoire was the only one of their children home at the moment. She was nineteen, with her father's dark red hair and the freckly face so common in their family. She was checking her watch for the fifth time, eyes darting once again to the crackling fireplace.
"We shouldn't start until Teddy arrives," she said, trying and failing to sound casual.
Her father blinked in surprise, while her mother turned toward her with wide, burning eyes.
"Teddy eez coming?" Her French accent, which had faded to a soft lilt over the years, spiked dangerously, as it often did when she was agitated.
Victoire tried to look politely confused. "Yes, Maman. I told you that, remember?"
Victoire was a bad liar, but Bill met her panicked gaze and tried to help.
"Right. Remember, love, she―er, mentioned that at...dinner?"
Fleur didn't have time to respond, as the fire finally turned green and shot up into the chimney. A lanky figure stepped out, quickly trying to smooth his clothes despite the fact that his arms were full.
It was Victoire's fiancé, Teddy. His hair was brown today―a sure sign that he was trying to impress, as he hated using such a "boring" color. it was mostly hidden under a Santa hat, and he wore a green sweater with a reindeer on it, which made Victoire wince. He was carrying two bouquets of flowers in his right hand and a tote bag in the other.
"Teddy!" Victoire stood on her toes so that she could kiss his cheek (which was all she dared while her mother was watching). "Glad you could make it."
"I wouldn't miss it for the world, Vic. Oh―and here." He flourished the bouquets and grinned. "Beautiful flowers for a beautiful witch."
"Thank you," she said, unable to suppress a smile as she took one and breathed in their scent.
Teddy quickly stepped forward (pausing only to wipe his feet on the mat by the fireplace) and presented the second bouquet to Fleur. "And for the other beautiful witch of the house."
"Good move, boy," Bill mussitated.
Fleur's expression remained severe, but she took the bouquet and said "Thank you, Edward" in an icy tone.
Fleur had never liked Teddy. Victoire suspected that she might not have approved of any boy whom she dated, but Teddy's chances had been ruined from the outset, thanks to Rita Skeeter. Long before they had ever thought of dating, when they had barely even known each other, she had written those damn articles at the Quidditch World Cup and poisoned Fleur against him. When they actually did get together, three years later, it just reinforced Fleur's suspicion that he had been grooming her the whole time.
Now, she and Teddy were engaged. They were going to marry this summer―shortly after Victoire's twentieth birthday, when Fleur, who had married at the same age, could no longer argue that her daughter was "too young." And Victoire was desperate to make peace before that happened.
Fortunately, Bill was more sensible about the whole issue. He clapped his hands loudly and said, "Alright, well, now that everyone's here, let's get these halls decked, and all that."
"Right!" Victoire said, too loudly. "Here, Teddy, let me show you our Christmas baubles..."
She took him by the hand and led him over to the boxes that Bill had dug out, while Fleur, after sending them a quick glare, carried the flowers to the kitchen to find a vase.
Teddy leaned forward and whispered, "How am I doing so far?"
"Not bad," she said nervously. "But you should have worn a different jumper."
"I thought you liked this one."
"I do, but Maman prefers elegance to whimsy."
Fleur returned (wearing a very fashionable white jumper, Teddy now noted, probably quite expressive), as Victoire pulled baubles out of the box. Though as Teddy murmured, "I feel like 'baubles' isn't the right word for these."
"What do you mean?"
"They're just a bit...much, aren't they?" he said, holding up a delicate and detailed glass cherub. "Trying too hard to be fancy and coming out a bit gaudy."
"They're not gaudy." Victoire frowned, but then glanced over at her mother, who was Conjuring glittering icicles on the ceiling. Meanwhile her father had extracted the star for the top of the tree. It was goblin-crafted gold, with little gemstones that started to glow when he tapped it with his wand. She recalled that it had cost quite a bit of gold when they first bought it.
"Well...like I said. Maman prefers elegance."
"What do you prefer?" he asked, hanging the little cherub on a tree.
"About what?"
He waved his hand to encompass the room. "Christmas decorations. Or interior design in general. What's our place going to look like?"
Our place. It suddenly hit Victoire that she and Teddy would be living on their own within a year. She felt her face heat up in response to his playful smile.
Sometimes she thought that she really was too young to get married; unlike Teddy, who shared a flat with a friend, she had never lived anywhere but Shell Cottage and Hogwarts. But then, she was constantly regretting moving back home after graduation. As time went on, she had felt more and more chafed under her mother's supervision. Even her father, while much more easygoing, had become a bit trying at times.
Though according to Teddy, her real problem was being too adult. That she felt like it was her job to please and help everyone else.
"I don't know," she said shyly, hanging a bauble shaped like a unicorn. "How would you want it?"
He shrugged. "I'm fine with whatever, love. Except that I have one demand."
"What's that?"
He leaned closer, his voice dropping even lower. "Mistletoe. In every. Room."
Victoire couldn't help but giggle, while from across the room, Bill called "What are you lot talking about over there?"
"Nothing, sir," Teddy said loudly. "We were just saying that next year, we hope our home is as lovely as yours."
Bill scoffed, but smirked. Fleur, who had been lining the shelves with humming dolls that were shaped like wood nymphs, bristled. It seemed that she, too, had been hit by the reality of the two of them moving in together.
Bill noticed his wife's mood and tried to come to the couple's rescue. "So, Teddy. How's work going?"
"Hmm," Fleur drawled, pointedly not looking at him as she adjusted the dolls. "You are an Auror, yes?"
Teddy cleared his throat, and when he spoke, his previously playful tone had become a bit tight.
"Um, no, ma'am. I left the Auror program. As you damn well know." This last bit was said too softly for anyone but Victoire to hear. "I'm a performative duelist."
"Ah, yes. 'Arry told me about that." Victoire noted the accent again, as Fleur continued to prod the perfectly positioned dolls. "So you, what? Duel just to entertain ze audience?"
"That's about the gist of it."
"And you theenk zis eez the best use of your talents?"
Victoire could tell that this was getting to Teddy, so she slipped her hand into his. He squeezed it gratefully, and his face relaxed a bit.
"It's what I like to do, and I think people like to watch me do it. I'm a better actor than I'd be an Auror."
Fleur finally turned, and Victoire was somewhat relieved that she looked confused rather than stern. "Actor?"
Bill, two had been levitating decorations onto the tree, turned with a smirk. "You've never seen one of those duels, have you? They're all fake!"
"Now, 'fake' is a strong word," Teddy said, regaining more of his natural charm. "We really are shooting hexes at each other. We just spend a lot of time choreographing the fights first. Though I did break my arm the other day. Still a bit sore." He made a fist and swung his arm gingerly. "But really, I'm less a champion duelist and more an actor who's good at wandwork."
"And he's already gotten very popular," Victoire added.
"Being a Metamorphmagus helps a lot. Makes it much easier to play different characters, for one."
Fleur's perplexity only seemed to be increasing. "Characters?"
Victoire quickly jumped in, "For the stories, Maman."
"Stories?"
"Of course. The duels are only a small part of performative dueling," she said, as though this should have been obvious.
"It turns out my real talent is playing the heel," Teddy said cheerfully. "Like in our newest storyline―"
He launched into a somewhat rambling explanation, even Transfiguring himself into a villainous figure with greasy black hair and a twisted handlebar mustache. He had caught onto Victoire's strategy of describing things in a way that kept Fleur too confused to be angry at him.
All the while they continued to trim the tree, and Fleur and Bill hung greenery on the mantle and garlands on all of the walls. When they were finished, Fleur―shaking her head over Teddy's inexplicable career―went to the table and brought out the chest. She sighed as she tapped its lock with her wand.
"Now, for the finishing touch. Sortez, mes petites fées!"
The lid opened gently, and then, slowly and gracefully, a few dozen fairies flew out. They made a sort of dance in the air, circling each other buzzing softly, then flew to their places on the tree and among the icicles, which reflected and enhanced their multicolored light. Soon their small, artfully posing bodies were glittering all around the room.
Fleur's face, which had spent so much of the night in a scowl, now held an enraptured smile. "It is lovely, is it not?"
"You use real fairy-lights," Teddy said neutrally.
Her gaze snapped over to him. "Of course. What else would we use?"
"Oh, well―growing up, we always had the electric Muggle sort."
Fleur looked sour again.
"Well. No offense to your grandmuzzer, but in our house, we use real fairies. They are more natural. And less...what is the word?" She thought for a few seconds. "Gaudy."
Victoire snorted, while Teddy looked equal parts annoyed and amused.
Victoire looked around the room, at the same decorations that they had in Shell Cottage every year. When trying to look with an objective eye, she could see why Teddy thought it was a bit extravagant. The few spots on the wall that weren't covered in greenery or stockings were still illuminated with the fairy light reflected from the icicles. Every available inch on the shelves were covered with the nymph dolls and some fancy Christmas plates. The room suddenly seemed crowded with so many decorations.
She liked it, and she knew that if she wanted, Teddy would agree to decorate their home in exactly the same way. But she decided that their own decorations would be a little more simple. Maybe ditch the icicles, especially since she had never gotten the knack of making them unmeltable.
"Looks good," Bill said with a nod.
"I can't want for Dominique and Louis to see it! It will look even lovelier with the whole family gathered around, and all of the presents under the tree."
"Oh! That reminds me," Teddy said, retreating back to the hearth where he had left his bag. "We can put my presents under there right now."
Fleur's eyebrows shot up. Her tone was cool again.
"You brought presents?"
"I managed to get my shopping done early," he said, taking out the packages with a winning. "But no opening until Christmas."
"Of course," she said slowly. "I'm sorry we cannot give you yours, but...we have not wrapped it yet."
Victoire strongly suspected that her mother hadn't even thought about getting Teddy a present, and that she was resentful that she would have to now. But she just smiled and said, "That's alright. We'll keep it, and he can open it when he visits on Christmas Day."
Fleur glared. Meanwhile, Teddy was counting packages from his bag.
"Victoire, Louis...I didn't forget Dominique's, did I? Wait, it's just―CRAP, N―!"
Suddenly, the cottage was plunged into total darkness.
"What 'as 'appened?!" Fleur called, as Victoire heard an angry buzz from the now-invisible fairies.
"Crap," Teddy repeatedly, and she heard the sound of him bumping into something. "I, uh...dropped my Peruvian Darkness Powder."
All three of the Weasleys tried to say something, but Fleur's voice, rising to a dangerous screech, was the only one to be heard clearly.
"And WHY did you 'ave zat in your bag, may I ask?!"
"It's for work! There's a part of the act where I―you know, my character―throws a pinch of it, so the room goes dark and I can slip away from the fight. A pinch makes things go dark for a minute or so. But I just...spilled...the whole...bag."
A dangerous silence fell, save for the buzzing of the fairies, which was getting louder by the second. Victoire extended her hands and took a step forward, carefully edging around the coffee table. Everything was completely, totally black. She looked toward the windows, or where she knew the windows must be, but she couldn't even see the faint starlight that should be coming in from outside. She could feel the heat from the fireplace, but there was no light coming from the flames.
Victoire heard her mother snap "Lumos!," to no affect.
"Eet eez not working!"
"Yeah, this isn't your average, every darkness. This is...advanced darkness."
"Well, I agree with Teddy: crap," Bill said. "What do we―hey!"
"What iz―ah!"
"OW! OW!"
The fairies, none too happy to have lost their light, had apparently left their perches and began flying around wildly, crashing into the humans by either accident or design. Victoire let out a cry as one smacked into her face, and then squealed as another got tangled in her hair.
Teddy had called "Protego!," then yelled "Vic?!"
"There's one in my―get!" she screamed, as she managed to claw it out and heard it zooming away.
"Are you alright?!"
"Fine, Dad. Just a―GO AWAY! Protego!"
"Nobody try anything else!" Fleur snapped, as Victoire heard another fairy smash against her Shield Charm. "If a Stunning Spell breaks anything een this house, I swear―!"
"Alright, everybody―out the door!" Bill ordered.
"Which way is the―OW!"
"Teddy?!"
"Fine! Just―hit my shin on the coffee table. You'd think the shield would prevent that, but―"
A few minutes and several bruises later, Bill had managed to grope his way to the door. Even with it open, no light entered the cottage; it was only as Victoire stumbled outside that the world suddenly reappeared, the soft light of the moon and stars blindingly bright after the blackness within.
Her parents were already outside, with hands clasped together and lit wands held up. Looking back, Victoire saw the pure black rectangle of the doorway, through which Teddy emerged, as suddenly as a ghost passing through a wall. He had lost his Santa hat, his hair was disheveled, and he immediately bent over, panting with his hands on his knees.
Victoire's mother was the first to speak.
"Well, eet eez always so nice to have ze 'ouse decorated for Christmas. If only we could see eet!"
"I am so sorry, Madame Weasley," Teddy said, straightening up. As Victoire lit her own wand, she saw that Teddy's face was so red that his hairline was turning ginger.
He turned toward the doorway. A pair of glowing fairies shot out, then flew off in opposite directions.
Bill spoke, trying to sound calm. "How long do you think it will be before the lights come back, Teddy?"
"Er..."
He looked helplessly at Victoire, who tried to look encouraging. Then he gave a rictal smile and spread his arms out toward her parents.
"You know, you lot were nice enough to invite me over, but you've never seen my place, have you? I mean, my flat is too small, but Grandma Dromeda has plenty of spare rooms where you could spend the night! The house is all decorated," he added weakly. "You could see the...electric..."
He cringed under Fleur's withering glare.