Prompt: Matter of Genetics (#145)

February And On

She was two weeks late when she arrived, with a head full of pale, wispy blonde hair and eyes somewhere between silvery blue, and sky blue. Her skin was pale as down, soft as rose petals, and clear as water. But it was her unnatural quiet, and the way her blue eyes cast about, that denoted who her mother truly was.

Her name was Victoire Weasley, and for as long as she remembered, Fleur Delacour was her mother. Though, she'd been told by her mother and father that she'd been a gift, the singular spot of brightness, purity and innocence in a world still ravaged by war, Victoire knew the truth. Knew just whose gift she was.

The first time Victoire saw her, she was six. She'd been playing in the orchard of the Burrow, picking wild flowers, when she came upon her. Whenever Victoire pictured her afterwards, it was always as that first time she saw her, wearing a white summer dress, with the hot summer sun behind her and giving her a warm glow, even if her skin and hair were pale as the moon she was named for.

She walked as if in a dream, her bare feet seeming to barely touch the ground as she walked over, and Victoire had knelt in awe. She'd never seen anyone with such ethereal grace, that even her mother's seemed weak by comparison. And the smile that she gave her, so remote and serene, made Victoire think of still oceans of sapphire blue, calm and quiet but more deep than you could fathom.

That day, she taught Victoire how to weave crowns of wildflowers, and placed one delicately on her head, smiling at her and telling her that now she looked like a fairy princess, or woodland queen and that perhaps one day she'd find her own prince.

At the time, Victoire hadn't really known who she was. She'd of course heard of Luna Lovegood from her Aunt Ginny or Uncle Ron, or even form her own father. Sometimes, she had a hard time putting together the dotty girl Uncle Ron spoke of through smiles and laughs, with the successful and world renown naturalist her father told her stories about sometimes when he tucked her into bed.

It wasn't until a few years later that she was told the truth. But... as much as sometimes it hurt to know, Victoire didn't resent Luna, or her parents. Her parents were always so kind to her, so loving and attentive, that she couldn't picture life without them. And as for Luna... though the letters she sent didn't ever quite seem like enough, Victoire tried to understand that Luna's work took her around the world, and she simply couldn't be there for her. That she'd done what was best for her, by giving her to her father and Fleur.

Sometimes, Victoire stood before the mirror, the older she grew. Her hair was straight, like her father's, and she had his features, only more feminine. But sometimes as she stared at the pale blonde of her hair, and the color of her eyes, she knew they could only come from one person, even if to all the world, they saw Fleur when they looked at them.

She supposed that it was a matter of genetics, but Victoire wasn't really sure all that mattered. As far as she was concerned, she was a Weasley through and through. And no matter how remote her biological mother seemed, no matter who she married or became, she knew she would always been an honorary Weasley.

~Fin~

A/n: Well that is all. I hope the story was enjoyed. Thank you to everyone who reviewed, faved and followed my story! :)