In Which Things Began [fanfiction]

Jul 24, 2007 12:26

title: In Which Things Began
rating: PG, to be on the safe side
word count: 1,205
pairing: Teddy Lupin/Victoire Weasley
summary: Teddy never stood a chance.
author's notes: Written at four in the morning. 'Nuff said.


Victoire Weasley decides she likes Teddy Lupin the first time he changes his face to match hers at her seventh birthday party.

“You missed the freckles,” she points out gleefully, reaching out to poke his nose. He sticks his tongue out at her, letting the long blond hair he adopted shrink back into his head and his face returns to the familiar one she’s used to seeing.

“You’re going to be my best friend,” Victoire says before flouncing away, leaving a rather stunned Lupin in her wake.

-

The hat never does lie with a Weasley and Victoire glides towards the Gryffindor table, settling in beside Teddy who grins at her.

“Knew you’d be one to join us.”

She gives him a thumbs up. “I promised, didn’t I? When’s the food supposed to appear, I’m starving.”

And he laughs and says she’s been spending too much time with her Uncle Ron.

-

He’s in the sixth year when he notices it - the fact that Victoire has gathered quite a large group of male admirers and he’s surprised at how much he hates the very idea of her and any of them together at all. Ever.

Teddy is almost tempted to write to Bill and Fleur about it, but it’s a foolish and pointless idea and what would that achieve besides Victoire sending him scathing looks when she hears about it from her parents.

He scowls, flinging himself into an armchair with more force than necessary - the result sending the chair toppling backwards and landing himself at Victoire’s feet.

She laughs, bright and airy before offering him a hand up. “I never expected you to fall at my feet, Teddy. I don’t mind, though.”

“Really? Next Hogsmeade trip then?” He’s not quite sure what made him say it, but now it’s out there and there’s nothing he can do to take it back.

“We spend them together anyway.” She’s not looking at him, instead her blue eyes are focused on her feet.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then.”

She nods, not looking at him before brushing by him and he’s slightly depressed when she doesn’t even look at him. He’s positive she blushed, though. And he’s going to take that as a good sign.

-

She likes the face he’s chosen for himself - it mostly resembles the pictures she’s seen of a young Remus with a bit of Tonks’ favorite face.

Victoire would not like to admit she’s spent time actually staring at the Head Boy, trying to see if his face was the same today as it was yesterday. She’s noticed that he prefers amber as an eye color and has been trying slight differences in the nose; he seems to favor the Black nose more than anything else.

She’s fifteen and she should know better because sooner or later she’s going to be caught looking and then would come the awkward questions of what exactly is she doing and simply telling everyone that she's looking at Theodore Remus Lupin because she fancies him and is searching his face for any sign that he fancies her as well is out of the question.

She sighs and looks away from the figure across the common room. Not like he’d notice her, not with his girlfriend lounging at his feet.

Andrea Wood has never held much interest for her, anyway.

-

It’s her seventeenth birthday and it’s supposed to be special.

It is, in a sense, because now she’s an adult and soon she’ll be starting her final year at Hogwarts and yet… nothing is how she thought it would be.

Victoire doesn’t look up at the sound of someone coming to sit down next to her. Dawn is breaking on her birthday and she lets the smell of the ocean fill her mind.

“Happy Birthday. I’ve got your birthday present here, if you’d like it.”

She turns towards Teddy, a small smile flickering over her face and she’s about to say something along the lines of ‘thank you’ but instead finds his lips on hers and suddenly the day seems to be very special indeed.

-

He comes to visit on the three days he’s not having dinner at the Potter’s house and she’s sure her parents have noticed but they’re not saying anything and for that she’s thankful.

They’re sitting by Dobby’s grave, her head resting on his shoulder and not really talking because there’s nothing vital and important that needs to be said.

At least until the conversation turns to Tonks and Remus.

“Do you think they’d like me?” She wrings her hands and it’s silly to worry about it because they’re dead and that’s an extremely callous thing to think but it’s true.

“Yes.” And he says it with such utter conviction that she squeezes his hand in what she hopes is a comforting manner. “I know they would. Mother would have liked your sense of humor and Father would have been proud of the fact that you’re a prefect - just like he was.”

“What about your gran? Does she like me?”

“I don’t know. She and Grandfather apparently were worried about me being a werewolf and didn’t want Mum and Dad to get married, let alone have a kid.”

“I’m one eighth werewolf, you know.” It’s an old joke and he smiles at her tenderly.

“That’s true.” And then he kisses her and she’s still not used to the fact that it’s Teddy Lupin kissing her and not some classmate with whom she had a passing interest in.

It’s a nice feeling, and one that’s not going to get old any time soon.

-

He comes with her to say goodbye and they find a corner that’s out of the way and it’s a rather fantastic spot until she hears the voice.

“Teddy?”

Teddy sighs against her lips and turns to look at the rather stunned looking James Sirius Potter.

“Victoire?”

She rolls her eyes so only Teddy can see and he chuckles.

“What is it, James?”

“What… what…. What are you doing?”

Victoire has to quench the automatic response that they’re snogging - what else did it look like?

“I’m just seeing Victoire off.” And it’s in a tone that should clue the oldest Potter that the conversation was over and done with and that he could go running back to tell the rest of the Weasleys what he had seen.

But Potter stands there, brow furrowing underneath his black hair.

“Go away, Potter.”

And, with the threat of a growling Teddy, James takes off, racing into the smoke. Victoire is fairly certain she hears him yelling something but it doesn't really matter.

“I should go. The train’ll be leaving soon.”

“I know. You’ll write, won’t you? Every day if you can, and at least once a week - once every two weeks if it’s busy.”

She laughs and stands on her tip toes to give him a quick peck on the lips. “I’ll write - don’t worry.”

And he smiles at her and there is no reason to worry. Tonks, Lupin, Mad-Eye, all the names she’s heard of in the stories she’s grown up with - they all died to make sure no one would ever have to worry. And for that Victoire is thankful.

victoire, teddy/victoire, teddy

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