She had done her best to tidy. The dishes had been done, the toys had been removed from the living room, the crumbs had been vanished from under the sofa, the laundry had been put away. It was just that while she had been doing that Victoire had been doing her best to unravel any progress. There were new toys scattered across the floor, a juice spillage in which the stickiness had been spread to the walls, a spat out biscuit on the table and, after failing to make it to the potty in time, a new set of washing hanging out to dry. This was why she didn’t have guests round very often.
Normally she would have agreed to meet Volker at a cafe on Diagon Alley or somewhere similar, trying to keep the swirling chaos of her home out of sight. However Victoire was being un enfant méchant lately and the thought of trying to catch up with a friend while also stopping her daughter from running off, screaming or causing mischief was too exhausting to even consider. So, Shell Cottage it was. At least she had won the battle to wear clothes and Victoire was not toddling around half naked anymore. Fleur wasn’t sure that a two year old’s bottom was the most welcoming of sights for any visitor. Although, given her own clothing had a previously unnoticed smear of that morning’s breakfast on them maybe a naked toddler would be a welcome distraction. It really did serve her right for trying to look presentable first thing in the morning.
The baby kicked
hard in agreement, reminding her that in a few months she would have two little monsters to deal with. Or two little
Weasleys as she was convinced that was where the fault lay. A knock on the door interrupted her musings, and she glanced at the clock to confirm that, yes, it was already 11am and Volker was on time. “Be patient Victoire!” Fleur called loudly as her daughter had shot off towards the door the second she had heard the knock. As she waddled slowly into the hallway, the sight that greeted her was expected, and the exact reason why the door was charmed the way it was. Victoire was jumping up and down to pull on the handle, squealing out hello in French and English. She was unsure if Victoire even remembered Volker but her daughter was nothing if not attention seeking.
A quick unlocking and opening charm revealed her old school friend, looking considerably more put together than her, and Fleur smiled, beckoning him inside. “Bonjour, bonjour!” She said merrily, as she darted forwards to stop Victoire trying to climb him like a tree. Quickly shutting the door behind him, Fleur gave him the customary cheek kisses that she was considered odd for doing in England and gestured at the door into the living room. Not that she would have to do much guiding, Victoire seemed happy enough to drag her new friend behind her and Fleur could only give Volker a
what-can-you-do shrug as she followed behind.
“Non ma chérie,” Fleur finally intervened when it looked like her daughter was hellbent on making Volker sit on the floor with her. “Sorry,” she apologised, extracting the Beauxbatons Professor from the future Hogwarts students grip, bending to lift her growing child awkwardly. “Please make yourself comfortable.” At least one of them should be comfortable. With a wince Fleur spotted the mushed up biscuit and quickly repositioned herself to draw her wand and vanish it. Maybe she would be lucky and Volker hadn’t noticed? Although that was unlikely. He would likely never visit again.
With a slight huff, she finally lowered herself onto the sofa, only letting go of Victoire once both adults were seated. Her posture was as upright as it could be when every part of her body wanted to lie down and sleep. But she had been raised well, and a simple thing such as tiredness wasn’t going to make her forget her manners. “Tea?” Fleur asked, and with his response she summoned the tray that she had prepared earlier from the kitchen. Two mugs, a milk jug, a sugar bowl, a teapot with a ‘keep hot’ charm on it and a plate of cakes and biscuits settled onto the coffee table. As expected, her daughter was immediately interested in the cakes, and Fleur quickly handed over a biscuit before her sticky fingers could contaminate everything or Victoire decided to start demanding. Loudly.
“How are you?” she asked her friend, the teapot pouring out two mugs upon prompting, soaring through the air with grace and an avoidance of Victoire’s outstretched hands. “You look well.” Really, Fleur was happy to talk about anything. Adult conversation was something she was sorely lacking these days. Even talking to her husband, who she loved very much, was more about the upcoming baby and parenting Victoire rather than anything else. She hoped she didn’t appear too desperate for company, but honestly, it was great to have someone in the house that
wasn’t a Weasley.
The presents that Volker handed her in return for the mug of tea were unexpected, but entirely welcome. “Oh, you shouldn’t have!” Fleur voiced coyly, as she accepted the gifts gladly. Victoire was just as eager to open them as she was, and she handed off a package to her daughter hoping that it was nothing too fragile as the toddler destroyed the wrapping paper with glee. A beautiful blue silk scarf slithered out of the packaging and onto the floor and Fleur gasped in dramatic appreciation. “Oh, it’s gorgeous. Thank you!” She would have to ensure that it remained out of Victoire’s grasp in order to remain immaculate too. “Now, what do we say if someone gives us a present, Victoire?” she prompted, as the little monster tried to tear into the next parcel.
@Volker Blauvelt 
