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Sep. 19th, 2004 09:50 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
leplusbeauThe jerk behind her navel feels anything but familiar as Fleur drops the portkey into her palm. Her ears pop, everything is dark, and for one terrifying instant, she thinks she made the wrong decision; it was all a test, and she failed failed failed. Betraye--
She finds her feet again. The floorboards creak under her weight, and she can feel the rough scorch mark under her foot that she made in the main parlor with a stray fireball at five. She always remembers things she marks. The faint grassy smell of that atrocious dandelion tea her mother always drinks floats under the scent of lavender, basil, freshly cut mushrooms.
She wants to think "home" but her heart gives a little quirk at the very thought.
Finally, she opens her eyes. The pouring rain beating against the large picture window greets her.
"Fleur?" Fleur turns to find her mother hovering in the doorway to the kitchen. And for the first time in years, Fleur watches her mother lose her icy calm and barrels her daughter over in a hug. "Oh, ma p'tit fleur! I have been worried. Very worried."
Gabrielle appears in the kitchen doorway a few steps behind her mother. "Fleur! Fleur!" She pounces her older sister's knee and attaches herself there.
"Oh my petit, Maman..." Fleur hides her face in her mother's neck, and pulls Gabrielle closer against her hip. For a moment, almost, she feels like the world is not crashing around her ears and things will be fine once again and her family can meet her new family--
"A-hem."
Fleur lifts her eyes and finally notices the severe, beautiful blonde standing up slowly from her perch. "...Grandmere--" Fleur pushes herself away from her family, trying to step back.
"My name. What is my name?"
Fleur curtsies. "Lady Von Strauss."
Katchen Von Strauss leans forward on her gold tipped cane and smiles fangily at Fleur. In hard, heavily accented English, "Velcome Home, my dea ‘alf-breed."
She finds her feet again. The floorboards creak under her weight, and she can feel the rough scorch mark under her foot that she made in the main parlor with a stray fireball at five. She always remembers things she marks. The faint grassy smell of that atrocious dandelion tea her mother always drinks floats under the scent of lavender, basil, freshly cut mushrooms.
She wants to think "home" but her heart gives a little quirk at the very thought.
Finally, she opens her eyes. The pouring rain beating against the large picture window greets her.
"Fleur?" Fleur turns to find her mother hovering in the doorway to the kitchen. And for the first time in years, Fleur watches her mother lose her icy calm and barrels her daughter over in a hug. "Oh, ma p'tit fleur! I have been worried. Very worried."
Gabrielle appears in the kitchen doorway a few steps behind her mother. "Fleur! Fleur!" She pounces her older sister's knee and attaches herself there.
"Oh my petit, Maman..." Fleur hides her face in her mother's neck, and pulls Gabrielle closer against her hip. For a moment, almost, she feels like the world is not crashing around her ears and things will be fine once again and her family can meet her new family--
"A-hem."
Fleur lifts her eyes and finally notices the severe, beautiful blonde standing up slowly from her perch. "...Grandmere--" Fleur pushes herself away from her family, trying to step back.
"My name. What is my name?"
Fleur curtsies. "Lady Von Strauss."
Katchen Von Strauss leans forward on her gold tipped cane and smiles fangily at Fleur. In hard, heavily accented English, "Velcome Home, my dea ‘alf-breed."
