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Kaleidoscope Eyes by LindaSnape

Format: One-shot
Chapters: 1
Word Count: 2,083

Rating: 15+
Warnings: Mild Language, Mild Violence, Scenes of a Mild Sexual Nature, Sensitive Topic/Issue/Theme, Contains Spoilers

Genres: Drama, Fluff, Romance
Characters: Teddy, Scorpius, Victoire, OtherCanon
Pairings: Other Pairing, Teddy/Victoire

First Published: 03/12/2010
Last Chapter: 03/12/2010
Last Updated: 03/12/2010


These eyes she knew were hers, unlike those fickle kaleidoscope eyes that had chosen not her, but her sister.

Beautiful banner by Azure of TDA!

Chapter 1: Kaleidoscope Eyes
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He had kaleidoscope eyes, that was the only way she could aptly describe them. They were a vivid rainbow of colors, but her favorite was his actual eye color. His natural eye color was a dark chatoyant brown ringed by an iridescent ring of rich chocolate which almost made his eyes look black in some lights. It always had the ability to take her breath away. Well, when he wasn’t changing his hair to turquoise. When his hair was it’s natural dark woody color it made him absolutely breathtaking. He was the only one that had the ability to make her smile when she felt the world crashing around her shoulders. She watched him as he slept and smiled at him. Metamorphagus’ were rare and so were people like him. He was so valiant and so full of chivalry. He was the Romeo to any floundering Juliet, though, she wouldn’t quite say that she were struggling in any way. Not with him by her side. She was very lucky to have him in her life. She absently stroked a strand of his hair from his eyes.

She thought of the times that they spent together. All their jaunts into the woods, all their picnics in the sun, the way he could pull her into his arms and make her feel like a princess. Not that she always acted proper. She snorted loudly, laughed obnoxiously, played Quidditch, enjoyed the sense and thrill of danger, and was constantly pranking people. Not to mention her propensity toward violence. No one could accuse her of acting like a girl.

Nor would she want them to. To act like a girl, in her humble opinion, was boring. She wore dresses, since her mother had insisted that this indecency was quite necessary. She thought she was deigning every time she wore dresses. So instead of her sister’s vibrant hot pinks she wore muted or controlled tones or blues as a form of protest. Her mother noticed, but never made comment. She just shook her pretty French head sometimes at some of the bizarre colors that Dominique wore. Her mother probably thought some of them clashed horribly with her red hair.

She shifted her focus from his slumbering form onto the figure’s whose raised voices were pouring in through the window in an unmelodious cacophony. She was worried that they would wake him. She saw her beautiful sister, the one that most resembled their mother, arguing with someone whose face was obscured from view, but she knew his voice. It was her sister’s boyfriend, and from how quickly the hem of her sister’s pink skirts were disappearing from view it was evident that she had just been dumped. She sighed softly, thinking of leaving him for a second, to check on the welfare of her sister.


She turned to him. She hadn’t realized that he was awake and she smiled at him with an inquisitively arched brow upward. “Yes,” she murmured.

“I’m sorry, but we can’t keep doing this,” he sighed softly. “I have a confession,” he began, looking into her steely blue eyes. “I’m in love with someone else.”

Her heart sank. She knew that this was painful, but it would have been more so if he had lied. She knew that, but she couldn’t help but feel crushed. She sighed, running a hand through her silken tresses. “Who is she?” she asked.

“Your sister.”

She gulped, knowing that she couldn’t hate her sister for this, but she couldn’t help but feel betrayed. Her boyfriend was in love with her perfect, ladylike, bubbly, blonde sister. She shot up from her position in the bed. “Goodbye, Teddy,” she whispered, not wanting to face him. It was too painful especially with the gravity of the truth hanging above her like an axe. She passed Louis, Bill, Fleur, even Victoire who was teary still. She couldn’t deal with her sister’s tears. Not when she felt as if the breath had been sucked from her lungs, as if she were simply living on borrowed time. Her sister, her perfect sister. She had everything! Even the heart of her now ex-boyfriend. She walked out into the pouring rain, not minding that it would probably end up making her long crimson hair look like a rat’s nest. It didn’t matter. The day was dismal as was her mood. It reflected how she felt perfectly. She saw a figure on the road near Shell Cottage. She paused, realizing she was barefoot. Self-consciously she ran a hand through her tresses, she was too curious to remain hidden, however. She found herself walking through the mud and wet grasses, feeling a small smile tug on the corners of her mouth as dandelion fluff stuck to her toes. As she came closer she saw that it was none other than the familiar form of a blonde she knew all too well. Her best friend. She broke into a mud, nearly falling several times in her pretty blue sundress before she all but leapt into his arms. She knew that he would be confused, but she needed him to hold her. To think of anything but those kaleidoscope eyes that haunted her memories.

“Did he dump you?”

She nodded, finding it impossible to speak.

“Then he’s a fool,” came his reply. 

“I knew that you’d say that,” she said in a soft melodious laugh. Her eyes tinged with pain also danced with a bit of mirth now. She retracted her legs from around his abdomen and her arms from his throat. “Take a walk with me.” It allowed no room for question, but she knew that he wouldn’t argue her absurd notion. “Take off your shoes, first.”

Obediently he stooped to throw his shoes off. “As her majesty insists,” he admonished lightly, bringing forth the assumption that she was a bit too bossy. Perhaps, but she liked things to go according to plan. Unlike life which was messy and unclear. She liked some constants, at least. “I still say that he’s a dunderhead.”

She giggled. “You never liked him much,” she pointed out with a nod.

“Have you ever wondered why that is?” he questioned.

“I figured that you thought he wasn’t good enough for me or something silly like that,” she said with a small toss of her shoulders. “You’ve never liked any of them.”

“Because I know someone who would be better for you than any of those twits.”



Her eyes widened in surprise as she gazed into his cold, grey eyes usually so devoid or warmth of emotion and she noticed that they were full of kindness. “Scorpius,” she murmured. “I don’t kn. . .,” her statement trailed off into nothingness as he bent forward and kissed her in the pouring rain. A smile danced across her features as he kissed her. He tasted of oranges and smelt of dew, both scents which were near and dear to her heart. Dew because she always loved the smell of wet grass, dew drops, and rain - in general. It was a comforting aroma to her. She liked the scent of oranges because all citrus-y fragrances tended to soothe her. They were tart yet refreshing.

He was not as beautiful as the man she had left behind her domicile in her bed, but his features were toned and well muscled and he had a strong chin. His eyes seemed like fathomless depths that she could swim in for centuries yet she would never know all their secrets. There was a mystery and intrigue to her best friend that she hadn’t thought possible, it was odd she hadn’t noticed it after all these years. She had always been a bit oblivious, she thought, wrinkling her nose in distaste of that thought. She had only ever gotten ‘O’s in Muggle Studies and Divination. The rest of her courses, Scorpius - the Ravenclaw, always had to help her with. She was very easily distracted.

She smiled somberly at him, capturing his hand in hers. “Walk with me,” she persisted. She didn’t look into his eyes or into his face. She didn’t know what she wanted right now. It seemed odd that he should kiss her. She would have thought he would’ve fancied himself one of the ‘flowers’ in her family, not the part Veela with scarlet hair. “How long have you liked me?” she asked conversationally, genuinely curious. It was something that she needed to know.

“The first day I met you, I was certain that there was something enchanting about you. Something that set you apart from the others.”

She laughed obnoxiously. “I’m just ordinary. Nothing magically special about me, in the least.”

“You’re a witch, Dominique, and a good one, at that,” Scorpius insisted. “You are special. To me, at least. Always have been. Always will be.”

“You’re sweet,” she smirked. “But you don’t have to lie,” she insisted. “We all know the only subjects I got ‘O’s in were Divination and Muggle Studies. That’s hardly something to brag about,” she insisted, sitting down in the middle of the field behind her parent’s dwelling, not paying the rain any mind. She liked the rain. She always had. She giggled as he clumsily sat down beside her, nearly falling into her lap in the process. “Nice move, Slick.” She brushed her palms against the wet blades of grass and wheat that leaned backward from the weight she propped on them.

He grinned when a butterfly landed on her hair. It was a lovely mental image for the butterfly was mostly blue with a twinge of black on it’s wings which contrasted nicely with her vivid red locks. Too bad he didn’t have a camera on him. He couldn’t remember the name of the butterfly, he thought if he weren’t mistaken it were a Swallowtail? But he wasn’t a butterfly expert and it was a trivial matter, regardless.

She looked into his eyes, seeing the scene reflected in his eyes. The butterfly flew from her hand, landing on the top of her hand instead. She noticed she was raking her hand through blue flowers she did not know the name of. Perhaps, she smelled like a flower? Maybe that’s why the butterfly had landed on her hand? She giggled softly as the butterfly moved it’s little legs against the tip of her hand. “It tickles,” she protested to the boy, whom had been arching his brows at her in faint skepticism.

He laughed. “I’m sure it did.” He watched her lips form into a pout as the butterfly flew away, but what had she expected? Eventually, the butterfly would fly away to find a new flower or blade of grass to slake it’s thirst upon. It was only to be expected. Then again, sometimes one needed to expect the unexpected. It sometimes happened more regularly than the expected which was truly saying something, but a fact which was especially true in the magical realm. “What could you expect?” he demanded gently.

“I wanted him to stay,” she frowned. “Promise me that you’ll never leave me.”

“I promise,” he answered. “I would be a fool to do that.” He stroked some stray tears she hadn’t realized had fallen from her eyes with his thumb, and his touch made her breathless. She felt like one of those pathetically giddy schoolgirls she always mocked. She was swooning and she knew it wasn’t simply because she was on the rebound, but because some part of her had always loved him, too. “I won’t hurt you, not like he did.” He pulled her into a kiss that was brief. Far too brief for her liking.

She gazed deeply into his eyes and she intuitively knew that this wasn’t a mistake. This was something that was meant to be.

These eyes she knew were hers, unlike those fickle kaleidoscope eyes that had chosen not her, but her sister. If she would have him, but that didn’t matter. She had her prince charming, and as cliché as it may have been she wouldn’t have minded if he took her away on his white stallion and they rode off into the sunset. She had been blind for so long. The only person she had needed was in front of her all along and she hadn’t realized it. He brought out a kinder side, a gentler side that Teddy had never seemed able to coax out of her. He was lovely, he was magnificent, he was perfection, and he was her Romeo.