Hi all!

I know, this isn't what you're all waiting for but the next chappie of The Birthday Present is coming – promise!

This is another one of my most favourite couple from the HP series besides Rose and Scorpius. Now, this is by far not my best work and given that its really just five oneshots, it doesn't go into a whole lot of detail. And yes, there are A LOT of blank bits (like the gap between number 2 and number 1 for example) but that's because this is designed to be a collection of what Teddy considers his top five worst mistakes, starting from least worst, to most worst (woo! Fabulous grammar skills Grae!). Also, the dates are an afterthought so if they don't match up thats why. Apologies for all mistakes.

The characters didn't really come across like I wanted them to, but I plan to liven them up and fill them out a bit in a multi-chap fic I'm planning for these two love birds. But that won't be until after TBP is finished. So it'l be a while. Also, I tried to work chocolate frogs into each one of the sections, just because I imagine Teddy takes after his father in that respect :)

Anywho! Same as always, no names that you recognize belong to me – they are all the property of the insanely talented and all together amazing Miss. JK Rowling.

As always, I would love you forever if you review :)

5.

December 27, 2008

This is a bad idea.

The thought flitters through his head so quickly that he all but dismisses it. He has been planning this for days now – he's not going to let his sudden development of a conscience stop him from going through with it. Besides she brought this all upon herself. Had she not singed his eyebrows off with a rigged deck of exploding snap, then proceeded to laugh her pants off at his expense whilst calling everyone to come in and see how ridiculous he looked with bright green hair, matching eyes and absolutely no eyebrows then he wouldn't be forced to do this.

But she had.

So he must.

He huddles even further into his hiding spot below the stairs of Bill and Fleur Weasley's house, clutching the fidgeting bag close to his chest. But not too close. One couldn't trust these little buggers, and he didn't want to risk this whole thing backfiring. Then he'd just look like more of an idiot. And he had discovered in recent days that he really didn't like feeling like an idiot.

It is astounding how much spite he can feel towards an eight year old. It's like everything she does annoys him immensely. He hates the way she wears her hair in those stupid little ribbons, and how her entire body glows when she's especially happy (but that's mainly because, despite being able to change his appearance in any way he pleases, he can't make it do that), how she follows him constantly, and how she seems to prance everywhere. Really – he has never met another girl ever that prances quite like Victoire Weasley does. It's infuriating to his ten year old brain. And now she's made a fool of him in front of everyone who's here for Christmas.

It's about time that someone taught Victoire Weasley a lesson.

And he, Teddy Lupin, was going to be the one to do it.

He hears her footsteps getting closer – because you can always tell its Vic due to her damn prancing – and he smiles to himself. Finally; revenge.

He looks through the gaps between the stairs and watches as she approaches, humming some song he doesn't recognize as being English as she twirls her long blonde hair around her finger. Just as she makes her way around the side of the stairs, Teddy bursts from his hiding hole and opens the jittering bag right in her face.

The squeal that leaves her mouth could deafen dogs, he's sure of it. He jumps back to avoid her flailing arms and laughs victoriously at the display in front of him.

"Get it off!" she screams frantically, "Get it OFF!"

Teddy continues to howl with laughter as Victoire stumbles around the hallway, trying desperately (and futilely) to rid the particularly vicious pixie from her hair. As blue and blonde combine into a gloriously hideous mess atop her head, Teddy continues to laugh, ducking back under the stairs to avoid colliding with the annoying eight year old currently running in circles and flapping her arms as if she is impersonating a bird. The pixie – which he had found in Uncle Bill's menagerie of creatures he thinks the kids can't get into in the shed out the back – starts squawking just as shrilly as Victoire as it beats its wings furiously. Teddy literally starts rolling around the floor in fits of giggles when the pixie takes flight, pulling Victoire up by her preciously golden hair.

The slight of Vic flapping her arms and screaming while a pixie flies her into a wall is perhaps the single most hilarious thing Teddy has ever seen in his life.

His entertainment is cut short, however, when the adults arrive. They – Fleur in particular – fail to see the humor in the whole situation. Teddy is punished by way of lecture from virtually every member of 'The Clan' – thankfully Fleur's is mainly in French so he can't understand all the things she screams at him (Uncle George's, he notes with a smile, seems very fake. Especially when he shoots Teddy a wink as he leaves and mimes 'Brilliant!' when he walks through the door). He's also made to wash every single dish by hand for the rest of the holidays and is grounded until he goes back to school. It is, without a doubt, the least fun he has ever had on holidays ever in his entire life.

The only thing that slightly eases the pain is Victoire's new spiky haircut – there was no other way to remove the pixie so they literally had to cut it out of her hair. She swears that she'll jinx him into oblivion as soon as she gets her wand. He gives her all of the chocolate frogs he got for Christmas (26 in total) and she forgives him. Fleur doesn't.

4.

March 3, 2013

The second he looks up and sees McGonagall staring him down, lips pursed so tight he doesn't think air can pass through them, Teddy knows he made a mistake. A very large one at that. One that will, undoubtedly, result in many an hour spent in detention. The corridor falls silent except for the blubbering Gryffindor boy currently being suspended in the air, eyes red and his nose resembling that of a pig.

The very large crowd still gathered begin to whisper, some of them struggling to repress their chuckles either from the current situation or the display Teddy had been entertaining them with not two minutes earlier. But Teddy doesn't see any of this. All he sees is McGonagall's cold glare and suddenly notices that she has her wand drawn.

Yes, this was quite the mistake indeed.

After all, it's a little hard to convince everyone that's gathered in the second story corridor that he's Professor Minerva McGonagall when the real, living, breathing (possibly…she may have stopped since she saw him standing here) witch herself is standing not 20 paces from him. As he watches her left eye begin to twitch, Teddy tries to pinpoint where, exactly, his plan went so horribly, horribly wrong.

It was all Victoire's fault, as usual. If she hadn't started dating a boy with the mental capacity of a pincushion than he wouldn't be in this situation. If she had just ignored the fact that his face was chiseled and that his voice was velvety (seriously, that was the exact phrase she had used to describe him to Teddy last week) and seen that he was just a mindless buffoon who wouldn't appreciate her or be faithful, than Teddy wouldn't be dressed as…extravagantly as he was.

The pincushion in question – a fourth year by the name of Aalion Allenby with hair of gold, a brain of rocks and, currently, a nose of a pig – had been dating Vic for about two months. Even though he was a year her senior (and everyone knew that fourth year boys that went after pretty little third year girls were not to be trusted. Especially when they had 'velvety' voices) Victoire wouldn't listen to reason when Teddy told her to be careful. She had simply shrugged him off like she usually did with the 'I can take care of myself' hair flick followed by the 'I do not need your help' nose up-turn he had come to expect from her since he offered her a hand in loading her trunk onto the Hogwarts Express when she was a first year. He found it astounding that someone as independent and stubborn as Victoire would ever allow herself to become so enamored with a twat like Allenby.

But enamored she had become. So much so that when Allenby asked her to Hogsmeade she had not politely declined like Teddy thought she really should have. She had been so blinded that she accepted when he officially asked her to be his girlfriend with a radiant smile and a rather forceful kiss (he knew this because it was the reason she got her very first ever detention – Madam Pince did not take kindly to PDAs in front of he beloved books – and hence perfect teasing material for years to come). And Vic, insanely intelligent Vic who was a proud Ravenclaw and head of her year for the past two years, had been so head over heals in 'love' with the knob that she had not questioned his affections when he winked at other girls in the corridor. Or when he returned late from class with his hair slightly scruffier than what was reasonable to expect.

When she caught Aalion kissing another girl in 'their' section of the library (because apparently sharing a kiss in a particular section of the library warranted ownership in Vic's book. Teddy had told her if that was the case then he owned a large portion of the entire west side not to mention a number of quiet corridors. She was not impressed) she had been absolutely devastated. Teddy had stumbled upon her crying behind a tapestry and had given her a long hug and all the chocolate frogs he had on him at the time (eight) to help her feel better.

And then he swore to get the bastard back. Which he did. Thoroughly.

That hadn't been his mistake. On the contrary, publically humiliating Aalion Allenby in front of half the student body had been quite fun. But, looking back, it probably would have been sufficient to just pass himself off as McGonagall, yell at the sod for having an untucked shirt or some such nonsense, and then sentence him to detention which may or may not involve running through the Forbidden Forest at all hours of the morning. Had he left it there, things probably would have been fine.

However, the attention he was getting from the people passing by was infectious and if there was one thing Teddy Lupin could not resist, it was a performance. So he had taken things a little further.

He had started by 'pig-ifying' his nose. That had got some attention. Especially when the twat squealed – honest to Merlin squealed – when he felt his nose change. Honestly, Teddy thought it made him look much more appealing to females of his particular species (because anyone who dared hurt Victoire Weasley was not, in Teddy's opinion, human).

Had he stopped there, he may have had enough time to get out of the corridor before any teachers saw. But the crowd had started laughing in such a rambunctious way, and Allenby did not look nearly as ridiculous as Teddy felt he should, that he simply could not abandon it now.

No, no, no. He had to humiliate the bastard. Really humiliate him.

And what better way to humiliate someone than to make them sing in public against their will?

Though it may have been the slightest bit nasty, Teddy had no regrets about making Allenby sing the official Hogwarts song from start to finish over and over again. And he most certainly didn't regret levitating him so the entire corridor could enjoy the show. No, no, no. None of that was a problem.

Choosing to make the knob sing for twenty minutes however – that was the mistake. Teddy really should have known that when most of the student body doesn't budge from one corridor for almost half of lunchtime and, hence, doesn't show up to lunch in the Great Hall, people tend to start asking questions. Those people are usually teachers. And one of those teachers was Head Mistress and Transfiguration extraordinaire, Professor Minerva McGonagall.

Which led him right back to his current predicament.

Normally if he had been caught impersonating someone, he would attempt to pass them off as the fake instead of himself. However, with someone as cranky and experienced as McGonagall, Teddy decides it probably wasn't the best plan. In fact it would surely get him expelled or, even worse, killed. So instead, he goes into damage control. Teddy subtly constricts his waist so his (McGonagall's) figure was more svelte, and also makes the conscious effort to remove quite a number of wrinkles from his face. Furthermore, he makes a point of getting rid of some of the grey hairs and thinks extremely hard about making his eyes a particularly lovely shade of green. All in all, he makes McGonagall look more attractive than she has in about a century. Now he only looks one hundred and twelve years old, instead of the two hundred and twelve he is sure she actually is.

The twitch in McGonagall's left eyes slowly spreads down her face so that she is almost snarling at him.

Yep. Definitely one of the worst mistakes he's ever made to date.

"Ah, Professor McGonagall," he replies wearily, hoping to win her over with a blazing smile, "Fancy seeing you here this fine afternoon – are they new robes? I must say, not many ladies of your vintage could pull off such a shade of olive, but you do looking smashing!"

"My office Mr. Lupin," she says in a tone so cold that it would have scared the pants off him had he been wearing any, "Now."

Teddy briefly curses Victoire for her stupid broken heart and terrible taste in boys as he walked towards McGonagall, slowly morphing back into his own skin. As he follows the Professor towards her office, mentally preparing his eulogy, something catches his eye – blonde. No, not just blonde, that particular shade of strawberry blonde that he notices whether he wants to or not. He looks to his right and sees Vic standing towards the back of the crowd. At first he thinks she's been crying, but then he realizes her eyes are filled with tears from laughing so hard and her face split by one of the most stunning smiles he has ever seen. Glowing in the way she only ever does when she's especially ecstatic, she mimes two words to him.

Thank you.

He smiles and thinks that as long as Vic's happy, this whole thing has been worth it.

The rap he gets from Professor McGonagall and his grandmother make him reconsider. He's warned that impersonating a teacher again will result in immediate expulsion, is banned from Hogsmeade trips, and is made to serve detention for every night for the rest of his fifth year (an entire semester!). After three consecutive nights of cleaning up the consequences of a great amount of bodily functions by the animals in Hagrid's extensive repertoire, Teddy is convinced that Vic's happiness is worth a lot less than he originally thought.

Even the ten or so chocolate frogs she brings him back from Hogsmeade every other weekend don't make it any better.

3.

November 15, 2015

As he bounds down the shadow encased corridor, Teddy Lupin can't help but feel that this is a terrible idea. The cackle from the blonde nymph bolting out in front of him forces him to rethink the proclamation. Hair cascading behind her as she throws him a smile he's never seen her give anyone else, he thinks it may just have been worth it.

The screech from Filch (seriously, how is that man even still alive!) that echoes behind them somewhere and the glow of his lantern almost catching their heals makes him reconsider yet again.

Its not that he doesn't love midnight trips to the kitchen with Vic. He does – really he does – but recently it's progressed from being just a quick, well-timed trip to get a snack when they know Filch is busy, to being survival of the fittest and a daring test of courage. Vic's developed a deviant streak in recent years (a sense of pride swells in his chest when he thinks of good little Vicky breaking the rules she once swore by) and as much as he loves that she's become more outrageous, its starting to get a little out of hand.

Vic, it would appear, is no longer satisfied with grabbing what they need quickly and getting back to their respective common rooms before anyone notices they've even left. Now she insists that they stay for desert and chat a while, or make a quick stop by the toilets because she really needs to go, or go for a nice leisurely stroll down the western corridor, or deliberately laugh very loudly just to torment the sleeping portraits. Whatever she decides they need to do, it takes up time. And taking up time not only means that he doesn't get the sleep he so desires, but also that they are at risk of running into Prefects on rounds, or stray teachers, or Filch. It's resulted in all too many close calls in his opinion and he has got to admit – these late night sprints, often when arms are laden with chocolates and muffins like they are now, are dong all kinds of terrible things to his heart rate.

Another yell from Filch makes him speed up his lunges ever so slightly, but he's still trailing behind Vic who keeps peeking at him over her shoulder and giggling (probably at the muffin he's got sticking out of his mouth that he's desperately trying not to choke on or drop – it is a very taste muffin after all). He momentarily curses her innate ability to prance, just like she did at eight years old, because apparently it's a lot faster than simply running and hence gives her the upper hand in this battle between them.

The torchlight is millimeters away from catching them and he doubts very much that they're going to make it. Although Teddy doesn't mind the detentions served with Vic, because there have been a few over the years, he really doesn't want to have to serve it with Filch. The cranky old bastard has it in for him, he's sure, and always comes up with surprisingly creative forms of torture to beset on him during detentions. In a desperate last effort to avoid capture, Teddy drops anything that doesn't fit in his pockets and bolts as fast as he can. He manages to catch up to Vic and is about to overtake her and leave her to her own defenses when she suddenly grabs his arm and yanks him sideways. He's about to yell at her for sacrificing him to Filch so willingly when he finds himself thrust into a very dark, dank and uncomfortably small space.

It's a broom cupboard.

Victoire Weasley, little Vicky whom he has known since before he can remember, has just thrown him, Ted Lupin, in a broom cupboard.

What in the name of Dumbledore's beard was going on here!

"Vic-" he begins to say something, he's really not sure what, around the muffin in his mouth when she cuts him off with a stern 'shh!' as she dives in after him.

She wedges herself between him and the door that she closes quickly, and turns to look out a small crack in the wood. In the few moments following, he finally realizes the enormity of his mistake.

He suddenly isn't concerned with getting caught by Filch or the ramifications. He isn't the slightest bit worried about choking on the muffin that's still wedged in his mouth. And he just can't bring himself to care about the fact that he just left a good seventeen chocolate frogs to their own defenses on the corridor floor.

The only thing Teddy Lupin is concerned about his thoughts about Vic. And he's concerned a great deal.

Standing in the dark, her body pressed flush against his in the tiny space, Teddy starts to take a lot more notice of things he never saw in Vic before. Like the fact that she's no longer the slightly gangly little girl she once was. Instead she's got hips – oh boy does she have hips – and other appendages that thankfully aren't pushed against him at the present moment. Her hair, which has been left to flow wild and free down her back instead of being constricted by those damned ribbons, has a sweet floral scent to it that he can't quite place and finds most enchanting. When her hand reaches behind her to hold his as Filch passes their cupboard, he notes how soft her skin is in contrast to his own. It feels like silk wrapping around his fingers and he can honestly say nothing had ever felt quite so right. He has to physically stop himself from wrapping his free arm around her waist and burying his face in he hair because, for some reason, his body is screaming at him, begging him to do just that. And he hasn't the foggiest idea why.

She giggles and makes a comment about Filch being gone for now, but all Teddy registers is the melodious quality to her laugh and how her voice makes words sound more like songs than just speech. She gives his hand another squeeze and he can just picture her biting her lip mischievously as she pushes the door open slowly. Teddy is ashamed to admit he dearly wishes the lip she was biting was his own. How perverted is that?

When she moves off him he instantly misses the smell of her hair and the feel of her hand wrapped in his. He curses the chill that envelops his body when he loses contact with her, just as he curses his mind for screaming at him to pull her back against him.

All these things swimming through his mind are all things he hadn't noticed before – hadn't allowed himself to. But the memory's there now and there's a voice in the back of his head that tells him it's not going to be forgotten easily.

He watches her run out into the darkness of the corridor, beckoning him with that torturous smile and glint in her eye. The realization hits him like a stunning hex and its most unpleasant – his perception of Victoire has changed drastically. And he doesn't think it's a good thing.

She sends him a wayward wink like she has a thousand times before, but this time it sends shivers down his spine and a bolt of something else entirely to another part of his anatomy. Yep, definitely not a good thing. He's suddenly thankful for the shadowy environment he finds himself in so that she can't see his darkened eyes or the fact that his hair is probably pink by now.

"Come on Teddy!" she moans his name and his mind goes places it hasn't before and he doesn't feel it should – some place dark and sneaky where Vic doesn't feel required to wear more than a few scraps of very lacy material that cover the bare essentials. It's wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong! After all, she's a fifth year, he's a seventh year and these things simply are not done. Not to mention that they are practically family.

A hopeful little voice in the back of his head calls out deviously – Practically.

He takes a shaky step forward and manages to rip his robes on a stray nail, falling flat on his face, sending the muffin that had still been half hanging out of his mouth rolling along the floor. The sounds of his rather embarrassing bout of clumsiness echoes through the empty corridors, and Filch's shouts are suddenly coming back at them again. She giggles furiously before turning and running down the corridor away from the ever-encroaching torch light. With another cackle she calls behind her – "Save yourself!"

But he fears it's much too late for that.

Getting into that broom cupboard has got to be the one of the worst things he has ever done.

2.

April 8, 2016

As Teddy Lupin sits at the bar of The Three Broomsticks, staring forlornly into his butter beer that has long lost its appeal, he struggles to think of a worse decision he's ever made. Fair enough, he's had a couple of doozies over the past few years, but this one has got to take the cake.

You're a masochistic bastard, Ted Lupin, he tells himself as he looks at his watch for what has got to be the 12th time this past hour, A love-struck masochistic bastard.

He glances up from the amber liquid in his glass to look over in the far corner of the bar. And there she sits, laughing merrily, hair and eyes glowing, the entire room hypnotized by just how pretty she looks. Ok, so maybe not the entire room. Just Teddy.

And him.

The boy sits next to her – much too close for what Teddy considers appropriate – his arm thrown casually across her shoulders as he takes another drink of his butter beer. He watches her mouth as she smiles, his eyes beady and calculating. Its like he's imagining what those lips can do. Like he knows what they can do. Teddy doesn't like it one bit. He doesn't like this boy – doesn't like that he thinks of her like that. Doesn't like that he knows her like that and Teddy doesn't. He finds himself looking at her for several moments longer than what is considered appropriate, even for a stake-out. He promised her father that he would watch over her while she was out on her date with this boy of questionable reputation.

In all honesty, Bill hadn't specifically asked Teddy to look out for Victoire – he had the general philosophy that 'what happened at Hogwarts, stayed at Hogwarts….unless it was going to give him an early grandchild, then shit was going to get messy'. But once Teddy had explained that this boy she was seeing, this Evan fellow, had quite a dodgy reputation even when Teddy was at school, and that perhaps letting Vic go on a date with him un-chaperoned at the Three Broomsticks wasn't the best plan, Bill had come around. Especially when Teddy told him that he was going to be in the neighborhood anyway and it really wouldn't be a problem.

He had neglected to tell Bill that the whole reason he was going to be in the neighborhood in the first place was to risk running into Vic.

Merlin he was a sad bastard.

He takes another sip of his drink and tries to remember why he thought this was a good plan. He's been sitting here for hours now and what's he accomplished? Nothing. Just more staring forlornly at Vic and wishing to Merlin that it was him and not that Evan bloke with his arm wrapped around her. The site of it makes him lose his appetite – not even the chocolate frog tucked away in his pocket that usually cures all ills entices him.

Madam Rosmerta – who, Teddy notes, manages to pull off greying hair extremely well – gives him a look and nods in Vic's direction.

"You're out of luck there, love," she puts away the glass she's been drying and proceeds to start drying another, "They've been coming in here every weekend for the past two months, always tuck themselves away and share private jokes."

Teddy's heart sinks to an all new low and he gets angry at himself for being so transparent.

"Ain't she a bit too young for ya anyway?" Rosmerta raises an eyebrow and looks him up and down. It takes him a moment to realize what she's referring to – surely he doesn't look that much…

Oh. His disguise. That's right.

He couldn't risk Vic recognizing him, so he had opted for a ruggish look, copying certain features of a twenty-nine year old man who appeared in the society pages of The Daily Prophet yesterday. He had aimed to look about thirty or so and had, apparently, succeeded. Teddy noted that he probably did look like a bit of a dirty old man. No wonder she was unimpressed with him.

"Not seen two like them in quite a while," she says reminiscently as she polishes yet another pint glass and Teddy wishes desperately that she just stop talking, "Young love like that don't happen too often these days."

Young love.

Vic was in love. With Evan. Not Teddy.

Teddy swear that even when he takes his dying breath and reconciles all his wrongs as he lies on his deathbed, never will he ever forgive himself for not keeping his appearance under control in that moment. All he had to do was keep it together long enough to walk out of the pub and apparate home. Thirty seconds. All he needed to do was to keep his appearance under control for thirty damn seconds.

But he doesn't.

Instead his hair descends into a morose shade of navy that is entirely shineless, before changing again into a plain and depressing shade of mousey-brown. It grows into stringy, untamed lengths down his back that makes it appear as if it has not been cared for in a great number of years. He also looses conscious control of the stylish stubble on his face, allowing it to spread and develop into an unkept beard that he imagines makes him look rather like a homeless bum. Somewhere in the back of his mind he hears Rosmerta take a gasp and murmur a surprised profanity, but he honestly doesn't pay it any attention.

What he does note is the curious call from the vicinity of the bar he has been hopelessly monitoring for the past few hours.

"Teddy?"

Her voice saying his name simultaneously makes his heart rise then sink like it's a passenger on a rather violent rollercoaster. He momentarily considers bolting from the pub but its no use – she's seen him now and he doubts she'll just let him leave. Why in the name of Merlin did he think this was a good idea?

He lets out a heavy breath and tries to mentally prepare himself. This probably won't be pretty.

"I know it's you Teddy Lupin!" she says with happiness ringing through her voice and for some reason that's even worse than if she was angry. He peaks over his shoulder through his sudden mass of hair to see the stunning image of Victoire Weasley standing before him in all her unbridled glory. The smile she gives him steals whatever breath is left in his lungs. Her radiant smile falters momentarily when she takes in his rather hideous appearance.

"Vic," he manages to choke out with a horrendous attempt at a smile, "Fancy seeing you here."

"Fancy indeed," she raises an eyebrow at him and looks him up and down, "What in the name of Merlin have you done to yourself?"

He shrugs and tried to look away from her but just can't.

"Felt like being a grown up."

"Grown up?" she laughs openly at his suggestion and the sound does something strange but all too familiar to his heart rate, "You look like a bum, Teddy."

"I was going for artistic grunge," he looks away from her and takes another long drink of his Firewhiskey, enjoying the burn that singes his throat. She snorts indelicately at him and flicks her hair over her shoulder.

"Well I don't like it. Where's the blue? I like the blue."

Every fibre in his being wants to change just to make her happy but he forces himself not to. Maybe if she gets angry at him he won't love her as much.

"I don't want to be blue today, Vic," he internally ponders the undertones of the statement, "I like this look today."

She juts out her hip and gives him a look that means she knows he's lying.

"Well I simply will not be seen with you when you look like a bum," she nods to his hair, "Change it."

"Maybe I don't want to be seen with you," he mutters into his glass somewhat spitefully. She snorts again and punches his arm.

"Like hell you don't! We haven't spoken in ages! Besides," she gets a giddy smile on her face and she starts to sway on her heals nervously, "There's someone I want you to meet."

Teddy glances over at where Evan is looking at him suspiciously. Teddy glares at the fop and shrinks into himself a little more.

"Maybe I don't want to meet him…"

"You have to meet him! I've told him all about you!" she grabs his arm and tugs him a bit. Teddy's ashamed of how much he just wants to hold her, "And I simply cannot introduce you as my fabulous best friend when you look like a bum."

Something in the pit of his stomach crawls up and dies as a stabbing pain wretches through him at the words 'Best Friend'. He doesn't think he has ever felt quite this horrid in his entire life. Teddy glances sideways at Vic and finds her looking at him imploringly.

"Please Ted," her voice is soft and coaxing and really should be illegal, "It would mean a lot to me."

Emotional blackmail. That's what this is. It makes him mad that she'd try to pull something like this on him. What makes him furious is that he's incapable of resisting. He momentarily wishes he was as strong as his parents – they fought against the Dark Lord, he can't even fight his own stupid heart.

He concentrates hard, feeling the beard shrink until nothing but some stylish stubble remains and his hair changes into a slightly shaggier version of his preferred spiky style. It takes a very forceful effort to make it the vibrant blue he knows she loves so much. He peaks sideways at her and sees the glowing smile that's plagued his dreams for much too long burst across her face.

"Brilliant!" she pulls him off his chair and starts to drag him towards the corner of the pub, "You'll just love Evan! He's so funny."

Teddy sincerely doubts it. He catches Madam Rosmerta's eye quickly and notices the sad, almost apologetic smile on her face. She feels sorry for him – she pities him. He hates the feeling but can't find it in himself to do anything about it. Not when it hurts so much.

The next hour is the most painful of his life. He sits and listens to Vic talk incessantly about Evan and their relationship and how happy she is and how funny he is and how they almost got caught in that broom cupboard on the third story corridor (their broom cupboard Teddy thinks spitefully) and how she cannot believe she's been so lucky. Teddy nods and smiles and tries his best not to hate Evan. He fails horribly at that, but does succeed in not hexing his bollocks off when he nuzzles his nose against Vic's neck. That's one small personal victory for the night.

When he physically cannot take it anymore, Teddy makes up a lame excuse about having work in the morning – even though it will be a Sunday – and hurries out of the pub as quickly as his numbed feet will take him. He splinches his leg on the way home because he isn't concentrating on his destination and spends the night in St Mungos. That leaves him hours with nothing to do but think about how happy Vic looked in Evan's arms.

He swears never to go The Three Broomsticks ever again.

1.

January 23, 2018

He feels her run her hands through his hair and he can do nothing to stop the rainbow coloured streaks they leave in their wake. She rubs against him in a manner she likes to think he believes is accidental and he feels all breath leave his body.

"Bad…" he murmurs against her neck as her hands make their way to his belt and his continue to climb beneath her shirt, "This is a very, very bad idea."

He feels her smirk against his neck as she tugs on his ear lobe with her teeth. He groans and shifts his hips to warn her – much more of that and you know very well what it will happen. It only seems to encourage her. She deftly undoes his belt buckle in a move he thinks she's getting all too good at.

"Your parents could be home any minute," his argument is futile as his hands pull her against him tighter. She gives a small shrug of her lithe shoulders as she claims his mouth once more, presumably to shut him up.

"What's wrong?" he hears the laughter and excitement in her voice, "Afraid of getting caught?"

He opens his eyes and looks at her for a moment. There's something about the way she bites her lip, the sneaky glint in her eyes, the raised eyebrow as her unseen fingers undo the first button of his jeans. It's a challenge. It always is. He curses her silently for knowing him too well to know that he can't back down from a challenge.

Especially not one that involves Victoire Weasley.

"I value my life," he says with a smile as he walks her backwards towards the bed, "Is that such a bad quality?

She gives a breathy giggle before whispering to him in a voice he's never heard her use on anyone else.

"Don't worry Teddy – I'll protect you."

He watches as she falls back onto the mattress, her hair falling around her in an effortless halo, lips reddened and eyes dark. She slips her hand into the pocket of her jeans and pulls out a very familiar wrapper – chocolate. She is going to seduce him with chocolate.

Well fuck.

There is absolutely no hope for him now.

Vic places a small row of squares between her teeth; two in her mouth, two sticking out between her ever-enticing lips, just begging him to take them. She beckons him with an arch of her eyebrow and he finds himself totally beyond self-control. He dives down and captures the two squares between his lips, kissing her in the process, and trying his damnedest not to groan when she giggles breathily in response.

She's going to be the death if him, that is one thing he is sure of. Whether it be of a broken heart if she leaves him, or being Avada-ed when her dad finally catches on to the fact that they've been sleeping together for a considerable amount of time now, or her mum who still hasn't forgiven him for letting that pixie loose in her hair, or just exploding from pure happiness if she ever agrees to marry him, he's sure it'll be her that ends him. He knows the smart thing to do would be to stay away from Vic – stay as far away as possible to save his heart that she's so thoroughly (though unconsciously) beaten before. But when he feels her tongue run over his lips and her feet deftly pull his pants down over his hips, he knows there's no chance of that happening.

Like, ever.

The last thought that runs through his mind before he completely loses the capacity to think of anything except how she feels below him is that this whole business – falling in love with and consequently pursuing Victoire Weasley – was probably the most foolish decision he'd ever made.

And he wouldn't change it even if he could.

And that be it! Hope you enjoyed it; as I said not my best and frankly all a bit 'blah' but hey, it's a start. I'll probs do a re-write at some stage when I get the time. Please review – it would seriously mean the world to me.

Much Love,

Grae xox