Mirror Mirror

“How am I supposed to know?” Marius had forgotten how stupid his sister was. Wasn’t he literally peddling for more sickles just to get more floo powder to get somewhere? “I don’t have anywhere to go!”

God, where the fuck was he supposed to floo anyway? It felt strange just to show up at the Zabinis and he had certainly overstayed his welcome.

“Oh fine. Calm down. Why don’t you just come back to my flat?” Vivienne offered, bringing her palms down to her sides. She truly hadn’t realized how dire her brother’s situation had become.  A part of her even figured that the act he was putting on was merely just for attention and to be dramatic. 

Finley took a seat on their garden bench once she greeted him, sitting a little further than he would have normally. While she had apologised for not writing him back, it still stung slightly. Vivienne was his future wife, and he had been writing to her increasingly as school got more stressful. It wasn’t that he didn’t have friends at Hogwarts but it seemed pointless talking to them when he could confide in someone he knew would be in his life forever, not just until school was over. But then she had stopped replying. He had told himself that she also had a life and reminding himself that whatever happened they were to be wed. Besides, he was here now and they had all summer to talk.

“My term was fine thank you. I was top of my class for charms.” He was very proud of that fact and wanted Vivienne to know it. Finley secretly hoped it might impress her. “Don’t worry about not writing back though,” he wanted to at least act like he was cool, “I was busy too. We’ve been allowed out to Hogsmeade this year so I’ve been visiting there with friends a lot.” 

When Vivienne suggested a walk he stood and offered his arm to her. “I’d like that,” he said with a stern nod. 

Older Finley watched on as the pair started their walk through the grounds, following behind offering his own arm to the adult Vivienne next to him. “I’m glad you think I’m adorable now, I distinctly remember worrying as to why you hadn’t wrote back to me. I was more insecure than I ever liked to let on,” as he spoke he glanced over to her with a self-conscious grin. 

Vivienne’s deep chestnut irises sparkled in the sunlight, widening as her future husband regaled  his own experiences at Hogwarts to her, a place she dreamed of visiting. Of course, she had heard all sorts of tales about the legendary wizarding school, but it wasn’t particularly a welcomed topic in the Lestrange household. Her mother, for example, never failed to mention how dreadful her own visit to Hogwarts had been resulting in her near death. The stories didn’t deter Vivienne, however, and she was eager to learn more.

“I’d love to hear all about your charm work. It’s a subject I’d like to study one day if…”  Vivienne trailed distracted by Finley offering her his arm. With a gentle blush, she graciously accepted. What a gentleman he was! “Well if it suits me, of course– and this Hog-a-mead-e.” she tried, her French accent more prominent when pronouncing unfamiliar words. “Please, you must tell me all about it.”

As their younger-selves chatted away, the present version of Vivienne shook her head and allowed herself an unladylike sip of wine. “Oh my goodness! Please, don’t even think on it. My mother was always giving me these ridiculous courtship tips like delaying the letters and what not. She’s even told me...” Vivienne paused as she prepared to mimic her mother’s badgering yet regal tone. “Oh Vivienne darling, to keep a boy interested you need to only seem unavailable.”

Vivienne couldn’t help but giggle at how ridiculous she must of sounded, not to mention her mother’s silly logic. Her expression softened and she placed a gentle hand on top of Finley’s. It was nice to be able to joke around like this again. 

He did owe her something. It was hard to pay back a debt to someone who didn’t need to have it paid back; Vivienne had everything she could possibly want. Marius had to give in—he didn’t have the answer to ‘what was the meaning of all this?’ and he couldn’t run anymore.

Perhaps he could buy some time for his answers, although if he couldn’t come up with any now, what made him think that he could with more time?

“Not here.”

Vivienne folded her arms beneath her chest, narrowing her eyes into determined slits. She didn’t like the sound of his not here and the ominous nature it implied. How much more trouble could Marius have possibly have gotten himself into this time? She had already helped cover up so much for the sake of her family and truly wanted to believe they were passed this. None the less, Vivienne was keen on getting to the bottom of it all... even if it took all afternoon. 

Marius scoffed, slowly lifting himself up off the ground. The witch moved herself out of the way of a conversation she wasn’t understanding–it was all French to her. “You didn’t say that when Beatrice died.”

Vivienne wasn’t interested in the petty back and forth. Instead, she narrowed her eyes and dropped her voice to just above a whisper. Whether spoken in French or not, she was not proud of the actions she had committed on her brother’s behalf. “No, you’re right I did not say that...though I do recall helping you cover up a certain bar incident. That must count for something, dear brother. So I’ll ask again, what is the meaning of all this?”

Young Finley was swept up by Vivienne. If he had been with anyone else he would have scoffed at the idea of tea sets. Tea sets were for babies. He wasn’t a baby! He could imagine his friends teasing him for playing tea party with this little girl, and yet he still followed. He didn’t really care what was childish or not - he was overwhelmed with everything. The grandeur of the home they were in, the confirmation that he would in fact be marrying Vivienne (although he still did not full believe or understand that), and her strange french accent and shiny brown hair. He was lead out of the room and down the corridor.

It was now that the parents got to start their conversation, in private. Finley faintly heard their muffled voices and he suspected they were discussing them but had no proof. The scene started to fade and get foggy around them. 

“Bashful? No. Precocious? Yes.” He laughed, thankful when she took his hand squeezing it gently. His plan was actually working! “20 years of memories to get through, my love-” using a pet name he hadn’t used for quite a long time “- we should move on. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to include the next one. It’s a little embarrassing.” He leaned in to say a little more quietly, as if it was a secret “teenage me was a bit of a dork.”

They were back in the Lestrange home - it was tradition now that every summer the Shacklebolt family would visit, enjoy the French summer sun and meet with the Lestranges. Finley, who was now fourteen, had been ushered outside by his father and told to join Vivienne who he had been told was somewhere in the garden. 

Puberty had hit Finley hard. In the last two or so years he’d grown considerably - so much so that he needed new robes every other month, and his voice now seemed to crack all the time. Worst of all was the surge of hormones that had made focusing on his school work more difficult than normal. Adult Finley remembered distinctly chastising himself for even thinking about other girls. He knew he was to be married to Vivienne, but even thinking about her seemed wrong. She was younger than him and she was far too pure and innocent. Instead he had just dived head first into his charms homework, attempting to ignore all the changes happening to him. Still, it was difficult to completely forget that while his friends were meeting girls, going on dates like normal teens he was already committed to a life long relationship. He did his best though.

When he finally found her out in the garden he offered her a wave and a smile in his approach, before remembering he was supposed to play it cool. At least that’s what his friends had told him to do with girls. Act totally chill. He dropped the smile. “How are you, Vivienne?”

Vivienne giggled along with Finley, loose tendrils of chestnut curls gently falling from her bun to her high cheekbones as she squeezed her husband’s hand back. It had been such a long time since they last laughed together like this. All of the drama seemed to take priority over these these smaller more intimate moments they shared, but watching her five year old self meet her future husband for the first time seemed to make it all go away, and she was already beginning to feel as if things were getting back to normal. Could it truly be this easy?

“Of course, my darling. Let’s continue.” Vivienne replied, her pet name for him rolling right off the tongue just like it always had as the scene shifted before her eyes. “Oh stop! I always remember you as being simply adorable.”

Vivienne recognized the Lestrange estate again. This time her family home was in full bloom with tea roses and wisteria vines, a sight rivaling the gardens of Versailles. The change in decor certainly meant one thing: the school term had ended, Vivienne’s first ever term to be exact. Like her brothers before her, the youngest Lestrange had attended Beauxbatons in her native country, and she had quickly deemed it her favorite place in the world. School was an escape for her, and allowed her to evade her mother’s prying eyes and the social pressures she put on her. Even in that first year, Vivienne remembered how free she was to explore and dabble in all that her mother would be ashamed of, magizoology and charms to name a few. End of term, however, not only meant the start of summer but back to reality for Vivienne. Now, it seemed she was just in time for Finley’s seasonal visit. 

“I am just lovely, Finley. Thank you for asking.” she replied, graceful in her movements as she turned around to greet her future husband with a delicate smile. She may have only been eleven years old, but Vivienne was mature for her age and had already been introduced to the subtle art of courtship, thanks to Gabrielle.  

“You seem well. How was your last term? I apologize for not writing you back.” Younger Vivienne continued. It was her mother’s idea to pause her letters to Finley, deeming it a fool proof method for keeping the boy interested, even one who was already betrothed to her.  “I was rather busy, but I am so glad you are here now. Shall we take a walk in the garden?” 

lafemme-lestrange‌:

“Since when is this any of your business?”

“You’re my brother, its always my business.”

Marius slowly took his time to get up, hiding his face as much as possible and just trying to think of a way out. 

Vivienne scurried after the man she believed to be her brother, heels click-clacking against the pavement in a hurried frenzy as she called out to him. “Wait! Wait! Don’t you run away from me!” 

Slowing only once her brother fell to the ground, Vivienne finally caught up and let out an exasperated huff, placing a determined hand on her hip. “Marius! What on earth is the meaning of all this?”

A small chuckle escaped Finley when Vivienne comment on how handsome he had been. He remembered a time where he would have agreed with her. The younger Finley was much more confident and sure of himself than the current one, who now couldn’t imagine acting so relaxed in front of the girl he knew he’d marry. He watched the younger Finley return the smile, not even spluttering when Vivienne kissed his cheek. He’d taken it all in his stride - or at least he had appeared to. He could faintly remember that upon the kiss he had been a little confused. It was a French greeting rather than an English one and he wasn’t used to it, although he didn’t say anything. It helped of course that the age difference at that age seemed so much larger than it was now. Finley had felt like he had some sort of upper hand in the meeting because he was older. He understood what was going on, unlike Vivienne who was three years younger than him! Still, the young boy couldn’t keep his composure when Vivienne declared they were to be married.

Finley had been under the impression that this was just an introduction, to see how the pair got on. His father had told him not to think too far ahead, that marriage would be considered later. It wasn’t the first lie that Finley had swallowed so readily. He didn’t want to seem like the one out of the loop though and just nodded and smiled in response. “Yes. And I look forward to it.” 

Younger Finley didn’t seem that phased by the whole thing, but watching the interaction it occurred to the now jaded man just how strange everything was. If this had happened to him now he would be freaking out and tripping over his words. He took inspiration from his younger self, reaching for Vivienne’s hand as they watched. “You were very sweet. I can see why our parents put us together, we make a cute couple, don’t we?”

Both younger and older Viviennes’s hearts swelled at the same time. The boy was looking forward to their marriage just as much as her younger self was! Her small mind was already planning out their wedding, and the fancy dress she would wear. Just like in all her favorite in fairytales. Of course, her younger self had no idea what marriage meant, the events that would follow, and what exactly she was giving up when accepting this betrothal to Finley. All she knew was that it was her civic duty to dazzle the minister’s son, and she had a whole trove of toys and treasures in the next room to help. 

“Would you like to see my tea set?” Vivienne asked, donning her politest smile after her mother shot her a telling glance. She knew it was time for the adults to chat business and even from a young age Vivienne always thought that sort of chatter was boring and unnecessary. Besides, she had received the brand new tea set as a present from her father, a do-your-duty-to-your-family present, and the small child had been itching to get her tiny fingers on it since he brought it home special for her last night. 

Too eager to wait for a response, Vivienne grabbed on to her future husband’s hand and made a start for the corridor, one of her classic rambles already beginning as she led the pair to their destination. “This way! I promise it will so much fun. You can see the whole...um...I think in English it’s playroom? Yes! that’s it. We have all sorts of toys in there, and the best of all, mon frère aîné isn’t even home to mess it up!”

In real time, Vivienne giggled at her younger self nudging Finely ever so slightly with her dainty elbow. A light blush swelled in her cheeks. “Sweet?!” she giggled at the eager little girl practically pulling the older boy down the ornate marble hallway. “Well, I certainly wasn’t a bashful child that’s for sure!” Finally, Vivienne took her husband’s hand and smiled wistfully as she met his glance. “However, oui. We were simply precious, my dear. I cannot believe its been almost 20 years since that day.”

The hand on his shoulder was all he needed in confirmation that he was doing the right thing and winning her back. Or at least they were approaching a point where he might win her back. Not that he ever ‘had’ her to begin with. He had to keep reminding himself of that. Not only was he trying to make up for the time he had been gone, he was also trying to make a move. Romantically. It was not his style.

Finley nodded in response to her question opening the first jar and pouring the contents into the pensieve, leaning over the bowl and being sucked into their old memories.

He was 8 and she was 5. It was the first time they had ever met, or at least it was his first memory of them meeting. Adult Finley watched as a significantly younger looking version of his father lead child Finley through the large mansion that Vivienne had grown up in. The younger version of himself was clearly a little shy to be in this new, strange place, especially since it was so grand. The little boy tried not to show it though, walking quickly behind his father and the woman who had been a stranger at the time, but he now knew to be Gabrielle. The pair were chatting all the while but Finley was struggling to keep up with what they were saying, especially with Gabrielle’s accent. All he knew was that this meeting was important.

He was lead to a large sitting room where he was introduced to a young girl. “Finley, this is Vivienne,” his father said.

Adult Finley tried not to get distracted watching his father. He wondered what he had been thinking to marry the pair at such a young age. He wasn’t sure it would be something he wanted for his own children, even if it had ultimately ended well for he and Vivienne. He was grateful for the match in some respects, but increasingly resentful of his father for many things, the arranged marriage included.

“It’s nice to meet you,” young Finley said offering a hand to the girl to shake. He had been told that it was the polite thing to do and so he had followed his father’s instructions. His nervousness still shone through though. He knew this was important and he didn’t want to let his father down.

Vivienne smiled, effortless and graceful, as she set her wine glass down and followed Finely’s lead, leaning forward in anticipation towards the pensive. She couldn’t help but squeal as the memory materialized and she watched the scene unfold before her eyes. Just by the first image of a young Finley, Vivienne knew exactly the day her husband had wanted her to see. She brought a hand to her painted lips in sheer nostalgia, “What a handsome young man you were!”

The next image showcased a five year old Vivienne as she giggled nervously from behind her mother’s skirts. The small child wore a pale pink dress that brought out the most adorable blush from the apples of her cheeks. Her hair hung passed her shoulders in loose chestnut ringletts secured to one side with a lavish pink barrette. She was slow to step out from behind her mother which earned her a stern glare from the woman. 

It took a young Vivienne all of five seconds to look passed her nervousness and turn on her most dazzling smile. She knew her family was counting on her. This was the boy her mother had been taking about, the one mummy dearest claimed would be her prince charming and knight in shinning armor. The one who would most importantly help save her family from their crumbling reputation. Not to mention, the extra ballet classes she was promised if she did well gave her all the more reason to smile. 

With a prompting hand from Gabrielle, Vivienne skipped towards the Minister of Magic’s son as she had practiced. Instead of taking Finley’s hand, Vivienne stood up on her tiptoes and pressed her cheek to the boy’s just like her mother had instructed her to do when meeting someone for the first time. 

“Nice to meet you, too.” Vivienne greeted, excited to use her English with someone other than her father. She brought her hands to her sides and clasped them together in front of her before lifting her dainty shoulders upwards then pointing her toe out to the side, twirling it back in forth with a polite girlish grin. “Mère says we are to be married!” 

The nerves that had been growing inside Finley as soon as he had heard the front door open were quickly extinguished when Vivienne clapped. He was happy to see her so excited and knew immediately he’d made the right decision. Maybe he was good at this romance thing after all. He guided her through the dimly lit room to the couch, sitting down and tapping the cushion next to her suggesting that she sit too, the light of the silver liquid in the pensive illuminating both of their faces.

“I thought it’d be nice if we relived some old memories together.” He gestured at the little glass bottles of memories, “I was thinking about how long we’ve known each other and how our friendship has changed since we were kids - I got a little nostalgic.” As he spoke, he uncorked a bottle of wine, pouring two large glasses and handing one to her before taking a sip from his own. He had explained his first reason to her, he really had been nostalgic and wanted to relive some of their old memories. It was a lot harder to admit the other reasons.

“I also want you to know how important you are to me. I mean, after I left for so long, I need you to know that it wasn’t because of you, or us. It was a me problem. And I want to make it up to you.” As he said all this he knew he should be looking at her, saying all these heart felt words, but instead he was looking at the line of bottles picking on up, nudging the others in line as if checking them. In reality he just felt uncomfortable expressing so much emotion. It was exhausting. 

Vivienne followed Finley into the sitting room, eyes aglow not only from the glass jars but with all the glee and wonderment of a school girl. A wide grin followed as she took in her surroundings once more, a show of affection she could not help even despite her best attempts at maintaining her dignity through this rough patch and the chair stunt Finley had pulled. None the less, Vivienne accepted her wine glass and made herself comfortable as she brought it to her lips. It was her favorite Burgundy, after all.

“Oh Finely. How thoughtful.” Vivienne cooed. Her eyes widened at him, sparkling with all hope she had kept suppressed ever since her husband had left her and become a chair. It was no secret that all Vivienne really wanted was to be wooed and a grand romantic gesture just like she had seen in muggle pop culture was certainly the way to her heart. Her expression softened and she giggled lightly. “It’d be like we were starring in our very our muggle film together!”

With her opposite hand, Vivienne placed it gently on Finley’s shoulder, allowing the delicate ring he purchased for her the night of the Valentine’s Day party to be put on full display. She could tell by his demeanor that sharing emotions like this was difficult for him, but she also wanted him to know that his efforts were beginning to work. Nodding towards the mason jars, Vivienne offered him another gentle smile. “Why don’t we get started, oui?”

It was time for the grand gesture that he had been planning ever since he and Julian had talked that night of the party. It had taken him a while to come up with something he thought would be personal and meaningful to his and Vivienne relationship, but once he had the idea he’d become convinced it was the right way to express how he felt towards her. 

Finley had always found it difficult acknowledging his own feelings, and even more difficult was expressing them. His who childhood he’d been raised under constant press attention and so throwing a toddler tantrum or being a sulky teenage had never been allowed. So too, he had kept any positive emotions bottled up, never really paying attention to what or who made him happy, focusing more on what he could achieve and how he could live up to his father name. Now that pressure was off he still found it difficult to express himself through words. Some grand gesture was the only way to do it. 

The thing was, he wasn’t exactly sure what he wanted to say with this gesture. He wanted to remind Vivienne of all their times together and how they’d both grown and changed and how their relationship had too, but he also wanted her to know things were changing now. That he wanted more than what they already had, but he also didn’t want to make her uncomfortable or awkward. If she didn’t want anything romantic with him, he was still going to be married to her and it’d be a lot more awkward around the house if he’d professed his romantic love for her and she’d said ‘no thanks’. He wanted to test the waters. 

Despite his assertion that he didn’t want to force romance on the evening he had asked their house elf to gather roses and candles and wine for the evening, but most importantly a large penseive had been set up on the coffee table in the middle of their living room. Surrounding it was tea lights, giving the room a warm glow, and two empty glasses ready to be filled with the bottles waiting in the ice bucket nearby. Perhaps he had gone overboard. 

The most important part of this whole plan was the memories he had gathered, now displayed in small jars, lined up in chronological order on the mantel piece. He watched the silver wisps swirl around their glass containers as he waited for Vivienne to return home. 

Over the last week every time he had a fond memory of their time together he’d plucked it out with his wand and stored it in his office. By the end there were little glass jars covering ever spare space of the room and that morning he’d gone through and selected his favourite for them to view tonight. He’d tried to avoid the ones that made him cringe, although it was difficult to do. He found watching himself as a teenager and young adult incredibly embarrassing.

Upon hearing the front door open he steeled himself. It was time for all of his work to be judged and soon he’d find out if he’d made the right call. “Vivienne!” He called out, “I’m in the sitting room. I have a surprise.”

@lafemme-lestrange​

Vivienne hummed as she let herself in through the front door, Halkey already waiting to take her coat once she arrived. It had been a long yet riveting day of event planning, securing venues, and ensuring that tea napkins came in ivory and not pure white. She had come a long way from her afternoons spent drinking the tea at charity functions. Now, she was planning those afternoons instead of simply attending them.

Her husband’s voice sounded from the sitting room just as Vivienne handed the house elf her designer trench coat. It took her a moment to gather herself at Finley’s request, raising a brow at Halkey before calling back to husband through a wary smile, “Just one moment, dear. I’ll be right there.”

A surprise? For as long as Vivienne had known Finley, she had never known him as the surprise-your-wife type. Well, at least not with the kinds of surprises Vivienne found exciting.  At her apparent hesitation, the house elf smiled knowingly and urged her on. Vivienne didn’t want to get her hopes up, but Halkey’s demeanor was certainly a promising sign. Her mind began to race with possibilities.

Eager to assuage her curiosity, Vivienne scurried over to the sitting room, heels clacking hastily against the marble floors of their grand estate. As Vivienne peered through the doorway, her heart nearly stopped, eyes widening in childish wonderment as they fell upon the newly arranged sitting room. Roses. Candles. Wine. The absolute works. It was like a scene straight from one of her muggle films. The kind where the hero tries to win back his lover’s affections with a grand gesture. 

“Oh Finley. Comme c’est beau!” she clapped her hands together unable to contain her growing excitement as it radiated through her and brought a subtle blush to the apples of her cheeks. Her eyes flickered over to several small jars twinkling in the dimly lit room surrounding an ornate pensive. “What is all this?”