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Victoire avoided Teddy for the rest of the train-ride to Hogwarts, not knowing that Teddy was doing the same thing to her. In fact, the once inseparable pair managed to stay out of one another's sight for several days after the kiss that had meant nothing to either had occurred, because that's usually what people do when they are embarrassed.

To Teddy it seemed easier to stay away from Victoire, not only because it enabled him to postpone another awkward conversation in which Victoire demanded of him to tell the truth, but also for the simple reason that he was no longer sure that he was in control of himself. There seemed to be an overdose of hormones running through his veins, leading him to gaze longingly over at Victoire at the breakfast-table or in the hallways when he knew she wouldn't see him stare because she was too busy chatting up the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team to notice a weedy youth with eyes that secretly scorched her.

Victoire, on the other hand, was dealing with the kiss in her own way, sharing stories from France with her girlfriends until four in the morning and spending most of the classes the following schooldays either sleeping or flirting with boys non-verbally. There were many ways to flirt with the young men at Hogwarts, and Victoire was skilled at all of them. Sometimes she gave the boys a simple smile, which no doubt left a lasting imprint on their retinas that they could cherish for weeks. Usually, however, she was more promiscuous than that, pulling up her skirt unnecessarily high, unbuttoning her blouse to show a maximum of cleavage, smiling inwardly when she felt that the boys were, one by one, falling victim to her beauty and charms.

She did not, however, banish Teddy from her mind. Though still angry at him for barfing on her dress, and for not revealing to her his deep, dark secret, and now also for not talking to her and ignoring her for days straight as though she was the one who had done something wrong, Victoire was worried for her best friend. The train-ride to Hogwarts had been revealing in more than one way; not only did she discover the reason why Teddy had treated her like an asexual being her whole life, but she also discovered that Teddy was, to everyone but her, more or less invisible.

Now that she actually paid attention from afar, she could see Teddy walking alone through the hallways without anyone taking notice, and him sitting alone at lunch, barely poking the various foods with the three tips of his fork as though he was on a diet trying to get even skinnier than he already was, just to prove that it was possible. The only other person who seemed to acknowledge that Teddy was not a brick on the wall was Dominique, who at the very least smiled at him if they were to pass one another in the corridors. Victoire wondered why she had never noticed it before, when she realized that Teddy hadn't actually been alone before. He had always had her, walked through the hallways with her, sat with her at the lunch table, gone for walks around the silver lake with her and spent hours trying to tutor her in Defense Against the Dark Arts in the library, with the result that the librarian hushed them whenever he got too eager explaining and demonstrating how different spells worked.

Three little words could clear everything up, and bring everything back together to their usual state. 'I am sorry.', but, even if she had been, Victoire wasn't sure Teddy wanted to hear them from her, and neither was she sure he deserved it when he treated her the way he did.

Desperate for this to end, Victoire climbed all the way to the Owlery one chill night in the middle of September to burrow a tawny and send a letter to Teddy's godparents, explaining the difficult situation that had arisen.

"Dear Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny," she wrote, in neat, cursive letters. "Teddy is gay." She paused, tickling her chin with the end of her eagle-feather quill. There wasn't really a lot more to say than that. She wasn't good at putting her thoughts into words, and even if she had been she doubted the Potters would be interested in a monologue about how Teddy had puked on her expensieve Chanel dress, how he had been ignoring her ever since and how that boy really needed to learn some manners.

"Just thought you would like to know." Victoire finished the letter with an impressive signature, dotting the I's in her name carefully, before turning and walking straight into a soundless someone right behind her.

"Teddy!" she hissed, once the identity of the person became known in the moonlight. "What are you doing, sneaking up on me like that?"

"I'm not gay!" Teddy said angrily, by that conveying that he had read the letter over her shoulder. He tried to grab for the letter and ending up nearly falling into a pile of bird droppings. Teddy had inherited his mother's natural clumsiness along with her unusual ability to change her appearance at will. "Don't you dare send that letter, Vicky."

Victoire laughed loudly, once more dodging Teddy's groping hands. "Why not? I'm doing you a favor hauling you out of the closet! God knows you've been there long enough."

"Give me that!" Teddy said, launching at Victoire for a third time and missing the slender target by mere inches, accidentally banging his head against a perch on which five still sleepy owls had been sitting, huddled together. The quintet of birds squeaked loudly at the sudden impact and flew away in alarm, leaving a bleeding Teddy to grab the perch for support in their wake. He had a gash on his forehead, and dark blood was trickling down towards his left eyebrow.

Victoire, who had laughed rudely at first at the comical display, was possessed by a sudden feeling of, maybe not sympathy, but at least a feeling of warmth towards the wounded. She approached her friend cautiously, and with the sleeve of her cashmere sweater she wiped away the blood from his pale skin.

"You're not gonna try to kiss me again, are you?" Teddy asked, eying her wearily from beneath her wrist.

Victoire flared up at once, her features growing almost inhuman in her rage, in a way Teddy had never seen them before. Perhaps it was a trick of the moonlight, because a second later she looked as beautiful as she always did, albeit angry. "No, because I'm so disgusting that you wouldn't want me besmirching your lips!"

"Who said you were disgusting?" Teddy said, confused, for once a step behind rather than two ahead. "I never said that."

"You kinda did, when you threw up on me!" Victoire screeched, making several owls stir in their sleep and open amber eyes to stare at the winsome part-veela, as though unable to comprehend that a creature that sweet could make such unpleasant sounds.

Teddy looked more bewildered by the second, as Victoire trapped him in a corner and stared him down as though hoping to kill him by sight. "I'm sorry about your dress, okay?" Teddy said finally, after staring into Victoire's glowing, lash-framed eyes. "I knew I shouldn't have eaten that big a breakfast. But seriously... What lipstick do you use?"

Victoire's eyebrows flew upwards. "Why? Do you want to buy the same one yourself?" she taunted, in spite of herself slightly humored by the question. Now that she had proof and comfort that Teddy could stand less than an inch away from her without looking sickened she felt more confident and bold in his presence, the first inkling of a smile pulling the corners of her lips upwards. "Hate to break if to you, Teddy, but I don't think cerise is your color..."

"Oh, shut up." Teddy growled, before lifting an eyebrow. "I thought it was chili or something. Maybe I'm allergic..."

"What do you mean?" Victoire asked him, imitating his expression of one eyebrow raised.

"It hurt." Teddy said, with a twitchy shrug like a little boy admitting that he was afraid of the dark. "When you kissed me I felt this burning sensation, like your lips were fire and mine were ice."

"Well, you were a bit frozen, that's for sure." Victoire said, which earned her a sharp glare from Teddy.

The owls were starting to stir, one by one opening their eyes to gaze at the couple standing amidst rat-carcasses, the bony remains of mice and age-old owl droppings. In the starlight Victoire Weasley looked surreal; it was nearly impossible for any human being, part-veela or not, to look like she did in the darkness. Her skin, which in the sun looked tanned after summer, was milky white and almost seemed to emit an eerie light of its own, and, as though Victoire was made of diamond, it appeared to sparkle. Her eyes glowed, not yellow like the countless, blinking owl-eyes surrounding them, but bright azure, like the Pacific Ocean on a cloudless day. She was delicate, flawless, beautiful, yet nearly scary in her own, prepossessing way.

"So you're not gay?" Victoire said finally, after a long silence.

Teddy rolled his eyes, but did not dignify that question with an answer.

"Good." Victoire said, snickering. "Because I would be really mad if you hadn't told me. I don't want there to be any secrets between us."

"Me neither." Teddy muttered, wondering vaguely if the fact that he thought that Victoire had gotten simply gorgeous over summer counted as a secret. Just in case, for good measure, he crossed the middle finger over the index behind his back as he smiled dazedly over at Victoire.

"So," Victoire said, and a grin spread across her finely carved features, as though it was the sun rising to cast a beautiful landscape in its light. "I was your first, wasn't I?"

Teddy scoffed, but did not answer.

"The thing about your first kiss," Victoire continued later that night, when she and Teddy were the only two left in the Gryffindor Common Room. "Is that it is constant."

The pair of them were laying outstretched on the heart rug, staring into the flames of the burning fire into which Teddy had thrown Victoire's letter the second the two had gotten back from the Owlery and watched with a serene smile as it curled up in the embers.

"Constant?" Teddy repeated, the glow of the fire lighting up his features, which greatly resembled those of his father before him. "What do you mean, constant?"

He was avoiding looking at Victoire, instead burying himself in a thick book to keep his eyes from wandering on their own to take in Victoire's pretty face and limber body. He didn't actually read a single word of 'Hogwarts; A History'; a gift from Hermione for his seventeenth birthday. For that he was too distracted by the mere presence of Victoire, the fact that she was sitting next to him, so close that he could imagine the warmth to come from her rather than the fireplace.

"Constant, as in unchangeable, as in something you can't ever change." Victoire said and laughed. "I am your first, and you can't do anything about it."

Teddy muttered something inaudible and pretended to be buried the thick book, rather than his own thoughts. He was happy beyond words at the rekindled friendship with Victoire, but he wished they would keep the kiss taboo. He wasn't particularly proud of the whole puking-episode, nor was he a fan of any topic that made him blush and his hair turn red to match his face.

Victoire smiled over at her friend, watching how his hair, usually black as coal, turned the same shade of red as most of her relatives'. It seemed at times that Teddy had inherited more of the Weasley-genes than Victoire, even though he was only very distantly related. Victoire was her mother in miniature, though not so small anymore. The fact that she was only one eight veela, rather than one fourth like Fleur, did not show. If anything she was even more perfect than her mother, and it seemed she had every boy in Hogwarts under her charm.

Every boy, unless you counted the one next to her.

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