{#005} One-Shot: I feel like a failure
Victoire snapped, for the first time in her life. She woke up peacefully, well rested. She snuck out of bed, heading straight for Dominique’s room. Her bed was unturned, but there was no Dominique. She let out a small sigh, rubbed her eyes, and continued downstairs, secretly hoping that she would find her sister when she entered the kitchen. But, instead of finding Dominique, she found her parents.
They were having an intense conversation, but stopped abruptly when Victoire came into the room. Fleur’s hair fell down into perfect locks on her shoulders, golden and beautiful just like Victoire’s. Her eyes intensely stared towards Bill, watching him. Bill held his stoic expression, glancing not at either one of them, but at the newspaper in his hands. Victoire’s entire expression changed, her face suddenly turned into a small frown. She quickly exited the room, heading straight for the garden outside. With a flip of her wand she picked up a few empty buckets, levitating them to the small pond not too far away. Victorie walked through the small herb garden she had planted, reaching down every now and then to check on some of the herbs. She could hear irritated voices coming from inside, and she knew that her parents had resumed the conversation they were having.
She hated being here when her parents were always lurking around. The voices inside changed, they became less aggravated and higher pitched... happier. She knew almost instantly that Louis had come downstairs. She peaked her head up to look into the window, frowning when she saw how happy they appeared. Her mother stopped looking at her father with sunken, depressed eyes, and her father looked away from the stupid newspaper he was glued to. She felt her hands start to shake slightly, as she lost control of the water buckets, they fell and splashed inches from her feet. She put her hands into fists to stop them from shaking. Her heart pounded away in her chest, breaking slowly. Who could ever love you? You just keep giving yourself excuses to be hurt. Her inner thoughts were unkind today, and suddenly couldn’t take it anymore. It was like part of her snapped.
She practically ran inside, going straight to her room. She quickly grabbed a handbag, throwing some necessities inside. She ran back downstairs, heading straight for the living room. She reached her hand into the pot above the fireplace, putting floo powder into her pocket, and taking another handful staring at it in her hands. She caught sight of her father coming into the living room with an extremely unhappy look on his face. She looked right into his eyes, throwing the powder down before mumbling “The Burrow”. She saw him flinch, so as soon as the swirling world around her went still, she let out the deep breath she was holding in.
***
The burrow is beautiful this time of year, Victoire thinks to herself. The rain must have been kind to the land, lush greenery was everywhere. She peaks her head around the corner, lucky for her it appears deserted. She quickly runs her hand along the top of the fireplace in the living room, scanning the bookshelves. She carefully places her bag down on the ground next to the enchanted rocking chair, escaping outside towards the river. Victoire carefully digs her feet into the ground, carefully going down the incline to the river bank. Victoire walks a few paces, stopping at the familiar rock. The rock seemed so much bigger when she was younger. She remembers sitting with her cousins, each one of them carving their names into the stone. They had called it some silly acronym, WPLD (Weasley, Potter, Lupin, Delacour). The rock is littered with names. She carefully runs her fingers over Dominique’s, then Louis’s, hers, Teddy’s, James’, Rose’s, Molly’s....
Careful footsteps crept up beside her. “Victoire Weasley. When your parents phoned me, I told them not to worry. I knew you would be here.” Victoire shook slightly. “What were you thinking dear?” As soon as she lifted her head to look at her grandmother, she lost it. Tears poured from her eyes. Molly helped her up, and enveloped the small girl in her arms. “I feel like a failure, Gram.” She sobbed even harder as her grandmother continued to hold her, bring her inside.
