Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me. Everyone is owned by JK Rowling. Bow down to her.

"Why is everyone so sad on my birthday?" Victoire glared at Uncle Harry, who was sitting next to Dobby's grave, his eyes closed. He blinked at her and, upon noticing her glower, sat up straight and beckoned for her to take a seat next to him.

"What do you mean everyone's sad on your birthday, Torie?" He asked her quietly, green eyes trained on the people milling about Shell Cottage. A general air of grief and sorrow hung over everyone, except for the babies. Victoire crossed her arms, wishing Teddy was there. Teddy would understand. People would look at him sadly on her birthday too.

"Look at them! They're just…just there! They don't care about my birthday, if they did, they'd be happy for me!" Victoire told him crossly. Harry chuckled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"Torie, princess, they do care about your birthday, I promise. Otherwise, they wouldn't be here, would they?" He soothed, rubbing her left arm. Victoire wasn't convinced.

"Yes, they would. They're my family, they'd be here even if I became one of those Death Muncher things you all like to not-talk about." Harry stared at her.

"Death Muncher?" He grinned and she glared.

"What? It's not funny—nobody's enjoying my party!" She pouted. Harry's smile faded and he looked at her serious. Instinctively, she sat up straighter. When Uncle Harry looked like that at you, you wanted to listen.

"Listen very closely, Torie, because I'm going to tell you a story." She might have opened her mouth to protest that she didn't want a story, she wanted a reason, but something told her to stay quiet and listen.

"You know whose grave this is?" He patted Dobby's grave. She nodded, strawberry blond pigtails bouncing.

"Dobby. He was a house elf, and you freed him from his evil master. He died saving you and Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron and Aunt Luna." She explained proudly. Harry nodded, tugging gently on a pigtail. She swatted his hand away.

"That's right. But do you know why Dobby had to die?" She shook her head. "He didn't. Nobody had to die. Not Dobby, not your Uncle Fred, not Teddy's parents or grandfather, nobody. But people did die. All because one arrogant young boy thought he was better than everybody else."

Victoire listened, enraptured, as Harry told her the story of the Great War. He left out some of the more gruesome details, of course, but he gave her the basics, and he made sure to tell her why people cried on her birthday. She understood a lot better now.

At the end of it, he looked at her and smiled. "Do you understand now, Torie? Everyone actually is happy for you, they're just sad at the same time, because of how many people died eight years ago on this day."

"I understand. Thank you, Uncle Harry." She stood up and hugged him. "I love you." She said honestly. Nobody else had ever told her this much, they all shyed away from it. But Uncle Harry, who was in the middle of the whole entire war, told her almost everything.

Four years later, when she's ten, her father says he's going to tell her about the war. She smiles and says she already knows.

Age: Eight

"No, Victoire, we are not getting you a pony for your birthday! Now, go play with Dominique!" Fleur Weasley told her oldest daughter firmly. Victoire pouted and stalked outside, arms folded over her chest. Why couldn't she get a pony? Just a small one? Hagrid had so many pets, but her parents wouldn't even get her one little pony?

"Hey, Torie, what's wrong?" Uncle Harry, who had brought James over to play with Louis, bent down to look her in the eye. Victoire huffed.

"Mama and Daddy won't get me a pony! Not even a little one! And it's my birthday!" Harry chuckled, leading her over to Dobby's grave, which he always visited when he came to Shell Cottage. Victoire plopped down next to him without any of her mother's grace.

"Now tell me, Torie, why do you want a pony?" Harry asked calmly. She grabbed a blade of grass and twisted it around her fingers.

"Because….because they're cool!" She told him. He sighed, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. She's outgrown pigtails by now.

"Come on, you know that's not the whole reason," probes Harry. She looks at him and he smiles encouragingly at her.

"Well….because I'm no good at flying or Quidditch, like Teddy and Dominique, and I want to be good at something, and I think I might really like riding," admitted Victoire. Harry chuckled, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Torie, you're good at a lot of things. Like writing. Remember that story you read us last Christmas? That was amazing, some of the best work I've read. But if you tell your parents what you told me, I'm sure they'll buy you a pony." He told her gently. She nodded, blue eyes wide. She's gotten a lot of praise for the stories she reads to the family at Weasley get-togethers, but everyone calls them 'good, especially for an eight-year-old!'. Nobody ever told her it 'amazing' or 'some of the best work' they've read.

She took his advice about the pony, but her parents still wouldn't buy her one. But on her birthday, Uncle Harry came a bit late, with a beautiful, white-speckled Basque pony with a coat of chocolate trailing behind him.

She jumped up to hug him and told him she loved him. He chuckled and patted her back as she cooed over her pony, which she named Cocoa. Everyone else watched, surprised that Harry would actually buy her a pony. When Bill asked him why, Harry, after a glance asking her permission, told them what she had said to him two weeks previous. Everyone immediately began gushing over her stories, proclaiming them 'fabulous' and 'brilliant'. She asked Uncle Harry to lift her onto Cocoa, and then told everyone, "Thank you, but Uncle Harry already told me all that."

His surprised grin more than made up for weeks of falling off of Cocoa.

"Go on, Vic, just go play with your dolls or something!" Victoire gaped at the blue-haired boy. Had he always been this mean? No, not to her at least! Teddy was her best friend! Why would he want her to 'go play with her dolls'? He knew she didn't like doing that! But now he was just ignoring her, and laughing at something that blond boy said. His hair was a strange, navy blue, not the clear turquoise it was when he played with her.

Furiously dashing away the tears, she ran away from the still-laughing boys and out to Dobby's grave. She had started coming here whenever she needed time alone. Nobody bothered her here, not even Louis, who liked to annoy everyone in sight.

"Hey there, what's wrong with our little princess?" A familiar voice asked behind her. She whirled around. Uncle Harry stood there, with James and Al being led by Aunt Ginny into the cottage. Victoire willed the tears away. Uncle Harry, of course, saw right through that.

"Torie, come on, I promise I won't laugh," said Uncle Harry, dropping down onto the damp grass. Victoire copied him and after a moment, began talking.

"It's Teddy." She admitted. Harry frowned.

"Is something wrong with him?" He asked, concerned. This time, she couldn't stop the tears.

"Yes! He stopped being my friend! He told me to go play with my dolls! He knows I don't like dolls! But all he cared about was laughing with those other boys! Why did he come to Shell Cottage if he didn't want to play with me?" She burst out, only now noticing that Uncle Harry had drawn her into a hug.

"Torie, Teddy's twelve. He's going through a stage right now where he wants to be with his 'cool' friends, and a girl two years younger than him probably seems 'uncool' to him." Harry explained gently, rubbing circles in her back.

"But—but we've always been best friends!" Victoire cried. "Always and always! And now he's just stopped! All because he went to stupid Hogwarts and got Sorted into stupid Hufflepuff and met those stupid boys!" Harry pulled back, trying and failing to look strict at her choice of adjective. He finally cracks a grin.

"All right, Torie, do you want me to go talk to Teddy?" She hesitated, and then nodded.

"Can I listen?" She asked, her tears calming. Harry chuckled.

"If I tell you no, will you do so anyways?" She nodded and he grinned, standing up and taking her hand.

"Come on then. But keep yourself hidden." She giggled and he walked into the spare room where Teddy was now playing Exploding Snap with his friends.

"Teddy?" Harry called. "Could you come here for a second? I need to talk to you!"

"Aw, Uncle Harry, I'm about to win!" Teddy answered, eyes fixed on the game. Harry sighed.

"Teddy Remus Lupin!" Teddy instantly got up. None of the kids wanted Harry using their full name like that. With disgruntled apologies to his friends, he followed Harry out into the deserted kitchen. Victoire was hidden behind the fridge.

"Teddy, why did you tell Victoire to go play with her dolls?" Harry began sternly. Teddy glared.

"That's why you wanted to talk to me?" He asked incredulously. Harry frowned at him.

"Answer my question, Teddy." The boy's hair was now brown and he grumbled out a yes. "Why?"

"Because she was annoying me!" Teddy snapped. "And it's none of your business anyways!" Harry sighed.

"Teddy, I saw her crying because she thought you weren't her friend anymore." He explained. Teddy's glower faltered.

"Well—I have new friends! Vic's just jealous!" He retorted.

"Teddy, she's not jealous, she's upset. You two were always best friends. Did Hogwarts change you that much?" Teddy looked down, his hair turning pink.

"I…I just missed her. A lot. And then I come home for Christmas and she acts like nothing's happened and we can just go back to playing like we did before and…and I thought she didn't miss me. Like I was not there, and then there, and the part in between didn't matter." He said quietly. Harry blinked, and then looked over to catch Victoire's eye. He inclined his head and she took that as he cue.

"Teddy Lupin, you are an idiot." She pronounced. He whipped around so fast, he fell of the chair. Scrambling to his feet, he gaped at her, both his hair and his cheeks blushing scarlet.

"V-Vic! You were there—all along?" She nodded and then walked over to him and hugged him. He stood there awkwardly for a moment, and then hugged her back.

"I missed you too, Teddy. That's why I wanted to play when you got back. I wanted things to be the same." She told him, her voice muffled in his shirt. She raised her eyes once to look at Uncle Harry and he winked at her before turning and walking out of the kitchen.

Later that day, she Flooed over to Harry's house and gave him a big hug and told him she loved him. He kissed her temple and told her he would always be there to help her.

He didn't lie. He was always there, and she's immensely grateful.

"Well, Miss Weasley, I hope to see you try out for the Quidditch team next year," spoke Headmistress McGonagall to the only Weasley currently at Hogwarts. Victoire swallowed and nodded.

"Yes, ma'm." She mumbled. McGonagall nodded and briskly walked away. When Victoire got home, she ran to Dobby's grave and collapsed on the side, pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. Why did she have to be a Weasley? Why did she have to come from such a famous family? Why did she have to be horrible at Quidditch, even though most of the rest of her family was terrific?

"Torie? Torie, what's wrong?" It was Uncle Harry. She felt him kneel down besides her and hug her to his side. She curled herself up into his chest.

"McGonagall told me that she hoped to see me try out for the Quidditch team next year, but I can't fly!" Victoire told him, burying her face in his black shirt. Harry stroked her hair gently.

"Of course you can fly, Torie, you're just not that good at it. Not everybody is, you know." He told her soothingly.

"But I should be! I'm a Weasley! I come from a family of Quidditch players! But I can't even stay on a broom longer than three minutes, and everyone's going to make fun of me when they find out that I can't fly!" She sobbed, though her tears never fell. Harry lifted her up to face him.

"Torie, listen. If you really want to learn how to fly…I can teach you." Harry told her. Her eyes widened.

"Really? You would?" He grinned and slung an arm around her shoulders.

"Of course I would! You want to get started? You can use Lily's Cosmos Crown, she won't mind. Come on!" He hauled her to her feet and she grinned. If anyone could teach her, Uncle Harry could.

And so, for the rest of the summer, she was continually Flooing over to Harry's house to train with him. And after weeks and weeks of both Harry and Ginny's tutelage, she finally became an adequate flyer. Not good enough to make the Gryffindor team, not with Jeremy Wood as captain, but still good. She felt so proud when she flew around Uncle Harry's pitch three times without falling.

But after the first time she scored a goal against Uncle Ron (he had come over to help teach her), she flew down and gave Uncle Harry a hug, thanking him over and over. He chuckled and told her he loved teaching her Quidditch and that she actually was a great flyer, she just needed some work.

When she made the House team in her third year and James asked when she had gotten so good, she smiled mysteriously and told him to ask his father.

He did. Suddenly, all of the Potter-Weasley clan were lining up for lessons with Harry. Whenever she comes to the practices, he always catches her eye and grins.

And she remembers she was his first student and smiles.

"Hey, Vic, do you want to come play Quidditch with us?" Teddy asked her, and suddenly, she felt butterflies start dancing in her stomach as his hair turns dirty blond. She blinked and blushed, and told him later. He shrugged, grinned at her, and ran off. She grabbed her textbook and ran out to her backyard, straight to Dobby's grave. She stood there for a while, just staring, and pondering these new feelings.

By now, she expected Uncle Harry to come find her. And he did. Wrapping his arm around her, he gently turned her to face him.

"Torie, what's wrong?" He asked quietly. She inhaled and then began talking.

"It's Teddy—except he didn't do anything, it was me, but I don't know what happened, it's just….I felt all weird when he talked to me, like….like he wasn't my best friend Teddy anymore, and he was just really, really cute and I don't know!" She spilled and Harry chuckled, drawing her into a hug.

"Torie, it's nothing bad, I promise. It just means that you…fancy him." He explained. She gasped and pulled back.

"F-fancy him? Teddy? But he's my best friend! I can't fancy him!" She cried, her book dropping unnoticed to the ground. Harry grins.

"That's what I said when I realized I liked your Aunt Ginny, because she was just 'my best friend's little sister', so I couldn't fancy her. Turns out kissing her was the best thing I ever did." Victoire exhaled, groaning.

"But what's he going to say? What am I going to say? I can't just march up to him and tell him I like him! He'll stop being my friend!" Harry grabbed her wrists to stop her flailing.

"Teddy will never stop being your friend, Torie, I promise you that. Now calm down and think this over rationally. You don't have to tell him right this very second. You can wait. Heaven knows your Aunt Hermione and Aunt Ginny waited long enough for Ron and I. Teddy will catch on soon enough, Torie. But he'll just be confused and hurt if you start avoiding him. Understand?"

"Understood," muttered Victoire. "But how do I act around him? I can't let him know I fancy him!"

"Torie, I'm really not the best person to ask this," sighed Harry, adjusting his glasses. Victoire smiled despite herself. Aunt Ginny did love to talk about how hopeless Harry had been as a teenager. He never argued either.

"So who do I ask? Daddy?" She asked sarcastically, still smiling. Harry cracked a grin.

"Well, I probably wouldn't. Try Aunt Hermione. She's had a lot of experience fancying a boy and unsure whether or not he likes her back."

"Okay." Victoire nodded, hesitated, and then hugged Harry tightly. "Thank you, Uncle Harry." She whispered and then pulled back and ran into the house.

Years later, when Teddy shyly leans forward and kisses her under the mistletoe, her first thought was "What's Uncle Harry's definition of 'soon enough'?"

Her second thought was that Teddy was an amazing kisser.

"Go on, Vic, just ask him! You're his favorite niece, he's not going to say no to you!" Teddy encouraged, and for the first time since she was six, it's she who seeks Harry out at Dobby's grave. He was sitting there, eyes closed, exactly like he was ten years ago. She dropped down next to him and smiled brightly.

"Hi, Uncle Harry!" She chirped and he opened his eyes and grinned.

"Hey, Torie, what's new?" He asked. She crawled over so she could fit under his arm.

"I wanted to ask you something." She told him.

"Shoot." He squeezed her shoulders affectionately.

"I was wondering…why didn't you ever let anyone write your biography?" She asked curiously. He shrugged.

"Torie, the only people I would trust to write my autobiography with only the pure facts are Aunt Hermione and Aunt Ginny. And both of them were far too busy then, and by now, everyone's kind of stopped asking. Why?" She took a breath.

"Because—because I wanted to write your biography." There was silence. She glanced over and saw him gaping at her. She giggled and he quickly clamped his mouth shut, grinning sheepishly.

"You want to write my biography? Really?" He asked, still stunned. She nodded.

"Yeah. Teddy told me it would be a good idea. Your life is so interesting! It would make a great story." He chuckled.

"Well then, I suppose we better get started, right?" She blinked, somewhat surprised.

"You—you mean you'll let me write it? And publish it? Your biography?" He laughed.

"Of course I will! You're the best writer I know, and you're my niece. I won't have to worry about you twisting my words around. Plus, it'd be kind of poetic, with your birthday and you dating my godson and all." Victoire grinned and he helped her to her feet.

"Let's go then!" She laughed and for the next year, she worked diligently on the biography. The rest of the family chipped in with what they could, but she never asked them to talk about anything if they didn't want to. She went to Aunt Hermione for Uncle Fred's death, not Uncle George. And she asked Aunt Ginny about Teddy's parents' deaths.

By the time she graduated, she had a nice, thick biography of not just Harry, but of Voldemort—to an extent—and the story of the Great War itself. She published it three weeks after she graduated, though Teddy had to force her to accept that it was done and it was great.

It sold 3000 copies in the first week. Uncle Harry told her this and she hugged him tightly and told him she loved him. He pulled back and smiled softly at her. When he spoke, his voice was husky with emotion.

"Thank you, Torie. I love you."

Author's Notes: Wow, that was a long one-shot! But I really liked the plot, and I really wanted to finish it soon. So, please review and tell me how you liked it! Was it too unrealistic that Harry would spend so much time with Victoire? I kind of thought it was special, that they met up at Dobby's grave every two years since she was six, and she always hugged him at the end. Let me know what you think!

Edited AN: Have since edited this story, because people pointed out to me that it was 'biography' not 'autobiography'. And I also added an extra 0 to the number of copies sold, because some told that it was unrealistic. Thanks for the reviews and corrections, it means a lot!