The end of our serious relationship came when I was still jobless, after having been out of school for three years, and she was working for the Ministry, fresh out of school. I was, I guess, prejudiced against the Ministry, still. Not just for what happened in the war, but for what they had done to my father. Even though I never knew him, no one deserves that sort of treatment.
No, the only part of the Ministry I approved of was the Auror Department. Happily, Victoire was training to be one. It was kind of a shock, I’d think, seeing as how most thought she’d follow her mother and father into the Gringotts business. Victoire was a fireball, though. She may not have gotten the infamous Weasley red hair, but she sure got their spirit. And there she was following in her Uncle Ron’s footsteps.
I was working on a job application. Well, to be more precise, I was filling out a form about my health and person for a Quidditch position. I needed something to do. I watched her that morning, every time I’d stop to idly tap my pencil against the wood of the desk I was at. When she sat up, bleary eyed and still sleep deprived, the first thing she asked was what time it was.
“It’s getting near noon,” I responded, admiring her natural straight blonde hair. She cursed, running a hand through the lengths of the hair I was admiring moments before. She had jumped up and started hastily throwing her clothes on. When she had finished, she looked in the mirror and took a moment to curl her hair with the usual spell. Then she rounded on me, before I’d even had time to catch my mistake.
“Why didn’t you wake me up ages ago?” She sounded rather murderous. “I could lose everything because of this! I’m so late.”
“You needed sleep, I didn’t see the need to wake you up,” I responded, quickly. She glared at me, trying to find her bag.
“What I need is a job,” she grunted, as she pulled her object out from under the bed. “If you don’t care enough to help me keep that job, maybe we should just take a break.” She stood up at the end of her sentence, looking at me, waiting for a reaction. I sat there, starring stupidly back at her. She wanted to break up because I made her late one day?
She took my silence as an admission, I suppose, because she apparated away. I only saw her again when she came to pick up her stuff. She didn’t lose anything. In fact, she gained. A year later, I found out she’d already gotten married. Well, that had happened fast. Just like that, we were over.
Two years later, I got a postcard in the mail from her, holiday wishes. I didn’t like Christmas anymore, all it did was remind me that I had no real family, and it kept me in contact with the one person I didn’t want contact with. I went to Harry’s every year on Christmas Eve, but, undoubtedly, the rest of the Weasleys would be there, and that included Victoire.
But when I got that card, I knew I’d have to write something back to her. It was from a strange address, somewhere a lot closer to Hogwarts than anyone I knew. I’d had no inclination of her moving so far away. I was just a wreck, for both those years. I’d gained and lost so many jobs, I couldn’t even have told you how many. I did play professional Quidditch for a while, until they noticed my temper. Apparently I’d “needed a break.”
I still thought about her everyday. I wondered what had happened. I replayed that morning over and over again, and never ceased to be confused, never found an answer. All I knew was that I was alone in the world. It was just me, fighting to stay alive. But I couldn’t forget who I had been, and couldn’t help but wonder what happened to him.
I gave my usual round of hugs when I went to Harry’s for Christmas Eve, but instead of chatting and being merry, I’d just sit in the corner by myself. It’d been like that since she left. I always spend my time at Harry’s away from his family, away from the Weasleys. I just sat in the empty library of their three-story house.
This year was different, though, because someone noticed me. Someone noticed me and actually followed me. I didn’t realize until I’d flipped through a dozen pages of a book without comprehending a word it said that James was standing in the doorway, starring at me like I had a beak for a nose, which I could have, sometimes my control got a little away from me. I sighed, and as he watched me, he shook his head.
“Why don’t you just go see her, figure everything out?” He asked me, letting the door swing open all the way, and leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed.
“I don’t think it’d be that easy, James,” I muttered, closing the book and standing up with a grunt.
“Sure it would,” he replied. “You pack a suitcase and you apparate to Scotland. Nothing too complicated there.”
“It doesn’t work like that,” I stated, walking over towards him, expecting him to move out of the doorway.
“Yes, it does,” he remained confident of himself. “All you have to do is decide.”
“Move, James,” I muttered, making to shove my way out of the door.
“Where’re you going?”
“Home.” Sometimes I really couldn’t stand this kid. He moved out of the way, letting me leave the house.
“Could just as easily go to Scotland,” I heard him murmur as I walked out of the house. It might sound silly, but after sitting at home for an hour, starring at the clock ticking away on the wall, I began to see his suggestion in a better light. And as outrageous as it was, I took the advice of a fifteen-year-old.
Victoire had welcomed me with open arms into her family’s house. Her husband didn’t even seem to mind. She was nothing but polite and hospitable to me, and I could see that she was happy. I don’t know what I had been hoping to find there, but what I got definitely wasn’t it. All I got was the realization that we had never been meant to last. And that she had simply realized it two years before I did.
Believable at all? Only one more chapter. Please let me know what you think…it’s not one of my best works, I know, but I’m working at it. ;) Next Gen is slightly more difficult for some reason…