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Life in Composition by FannyPrice
Chapter 9 : Ravenclaw vs. Weasley
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 11

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“Breathe…keep breathing. Don’t lose your nerve. Breathe…keep breathing. I can’t do this alone. Sing us a song, a song to keep us warm. There’s such a chill. Such a chill.”
-Exit Music (for a film) by Radiohead

Teddy couldn’t believe that Dexter had been stupid enough to let people know that there was a werewolf at Hogwarts. Didn’t he realize that mischievous people would want to go check it out? People like James Sirius Potter, and Freddie and Roxy Weasley.

At least he had caught up to them just as they managed to freeze the Whomping Willow. The three of them might have been crouching under Harry’s old invisibility cloak, but Teddy had the Marauder’s Map. And the Marauder’s Map never lied.

Just as he had finished his rant about being stupidly irresponsible, how we was going to write to both their parents as soon as they got back to the castle, an outbreak of giggling from James brought Teddy’s attention to the fact that something wasn’t quite right.

“What are you not telling me?” he interrogated the trio.

“Victoire is already down there,” Roxy answered, the only one to have the decency to look ashamed.

For a split second, he was paralyzed with fear, the possibilities of the danger she could run into stole his breath. Teddy quickly recovered, however, and slid into the tunnel himself.

“Shit!” He shouted when he hit his head on the tunnel for the third time. He leaned back on his heels, and cradled his throbbing head in his hands. His hair was now plastered with dirt, his knees ached terribly, and his palms were scraped up from crawling on all fours. He carried his lit wand in his teeth as he continued to shuffle along, attempting to call Victoire’s name past the wood and the saliva that pooled in his mouth. Teddy had never considered himself to be claustrophobic, but he found his entire predicament nauseating.

He saw the faint glimmer of wand light as he rounded a corner.

“Victoire!” He slurred.

“Teddy?” The familiar voice questioned back. There was a pause, then, “I’m not going back if that’s what you’re here for.”

Teddy pulled his wand out of his mouth to respond. “You have to; you don’t understand the danger that you’re in.”

“I just want one little peek,” her voice said, fading away.

“No, Vic, come back.” Teddy popped the wand back into his mouth and began to crawl again, faster than before. “You don’t want to know who it is.” His stomach churned.

“But you know,” Victoire accused, “you’re always keeping secrets from me. I want to know the secret, too.”

“Please, stop,” he muttered pointlessly as his vision began to blur. He felt clammy, sweaty yet still impossibly cold. The tunnel throbbed like an artery around him, his vision went red, and the bile rose in his throat. Teddy removed his wand just before he lost control and vomited all over the floor. Shivering, he sat back against the wall and shut his eyes to wait for the nausea to pass. A victorious sounding whoop from up ahead motivated him to keep going.

He edged around the sick the best he could and crawled on.

Victoire was kneeling under the trap door that led to the Shrieking Shack when he came upon her. She ran her hands along the square cut out, feeling for how to open it.

“Vic, please come back. I promise I’ll tell you who it is.” Teddy pleaded from a few feet away.

“It’s too late now, Teddy: I want to see for myself.”

“No, you don—Vic, watch out!” He cried as the trapdoor was suddenly wrenched open from above. One large, muscular hand with yellowed fingernails like claws reached down and grabbed Victoire by her hair, causing her to scream. The untransformed werewolf retained his grip on Victoire, but poked his head through the door. He looked around the tunnel, his eyes landing on Teddy who had frozen and was stuttering incoherently. Seeing the fear in his eyes, the werewolf grinned wickedly, exposing crooked razor sharp teeth. He sniffed Victoire, running his nose up the length of her neck and over her hair. Victoire whimpered in pain, eyes wide with fear, as the werewolf tightened his grip on her hair. Teddy heard himself shout, “NO!” as, with one more evil glance in his direction, the werewolf pulled Victoire up through the trapdoor. Her legs kicked wildly about as she screamed and struggled to free herself, but to no avail. She quickly disappeared from Teddy’s view and any hope he had of saving her.

Teddy suddenly felt as though he’d been plunged into a pool of pitch black water. There was no light to see by. He knew he was screaming, but he couldn’t hear it. He knew he was frantically beating his fists against the walls and ceiling, further scraping up his hands, but he couldn’t feel the pain. All was just the pounding of his blood through his veins and the vibrations, the echoes, of his actions cruelly showcasing how futile they were. Thinking he heard something behind him, Teddy turned his head but was met only with the impenetrable darkness. When he turned back around, Victoire’s pale face was only centimeter’s from his own, three scratch marks running diagonal across the once perfect features.

“Help me,” she whispered, and her voice cut the soundlessness that surrounded Teddy.

Suddenly, he could hear his screaming, his shout of “Victoire!” as he pulled her close and began to back away from the trap door and the monster on the other side. As they crawled away, Teddy felt a sudden tug on his arms. Victoire gasped once and looked at Teddy with eyes full of terror before she was being dragged away back into the darkness, screaming. She grasped at Teddy’s arms, painfully digging her nails into his skin in an attempt to keep from being pulled away, but it was useless. Teddy felt her slip from his arms. He lunged forward to grab her again, only to have her pulled away in a grotesque game of tug-of-war.

She was screaming and screaming, in fright and in pain, and the noise mixed with the snarling of the wolf and Teddy’s cries until everything was sound and it reverberated painfully around the narrow tunnel.

“Please! No! Vic—“ He shouted over and over again incoherently.

Teddy reached forward and used all his strength to give one last pull. It worked, and he and Victoire tumbled backwards when the wolf released his prize. Teddy righted himself immediately, and holding Victoire up under her shoulder, helped her crawl back towards the entrance to the tunnel. Teddy spoke to Victoire in a constant stream of reassurances.

“Are you ok? Did he bite you? Everything’s going to be fine,” he whispered.

The tunnel stretched bleakly before and after them. The lack of identifying markers made it nearly impossible to tell how close they were to the Whomping Willow, how close they were to freedom and fresh air. Teddy lost track of time, and just kept up his reassurances until a soft voice broke through the stream.

“Teddy,” Victoire called weakly. “Teddy. Too tired.”

He stopped and turned around. “What’s wrong?”

“My leg,” she barely managed to get out. Teddy helped her sit back against the wall for support while he examined her leg. A deep gash ran the length of her right thigh, bleeding profusely. He could see a thick smear of blood trailing behind them that glimmered sickly in his wand light.

The panic that had began to die since their escape from the werewolf returned ten fold as he took in Victoire’s pale, wax-like complexion and the lips that were tinged blue. Teddy began to conjure bandages that secured themselves tightly around Victoire’s thigh, but they soaked through faster than he could create them. Victoire watched his actions with a detached look, as though her mind was somewhere else entirely.

“I can’t fix it!” Teddy half-sobbed angrily as he continued to conjure bandages, “I don’t know the spell; I can’t fix it!” His throat tightened painfully. “I can’t fix it!”


Teddy paused his frantic movements to look at Victoire. “Cold,” she said.

He awkwardly shrugged out of his robes and draped them loosely around Victoire. He bundled her close to his body, and held her there to keep her warm. With eyes closed, Teddy continued to whisper comforting thoughts into her hair until he felt the body in his arms go limp. He froze. His only movement was to slowly open his eyes. It felt as though even the blood had stopped coursing through his veins. A long moment passed before he brought Victoire away from his chest to look at her. Her eyes were glassy and unseeing and her features were slack. Tears began to obscure his vision as he hesitated to bring two fingers up to her neck, scared to confirm what he already knew. Finally, he placed them on her skin and waited for the heartbeat that didn’t come and waited and waited, until the flesh grew cold beneath his touch. Hot tears spilled from his eyes then, running down the length of his face and falling onto Victoire’s body. He flattened his palm against her chest for a minute before he gently ran his hand over her shoulder. He gathered her close to him again and sobbed his apology that he could not save her into her hair. He cursed the gods and himself for allowing this to happen, and then prayed for them to take it all back and make it right. Teddy finally told her how he loved her, and how much she meant to him. He sobbed like he’d never had before and was unlikely to ever do again. He sat back on his heels in the tunnel, rocking back and forth and embracing the corpse of his love. And he cried and cried and cried…

“Ted. Ted! Wake up!”

Teddy flailed awake to see Brian standing over him, shaking him by the shoulders. Feeling disoriented, he looked wildly around the room at the sleeping forms of his other dormmates. Embarrassment quickly settled in as Brian released his grip.

“What? What happened?”

“Nothing. You were just flailing around and mumbling in your sleep.”

“Was I—was I,” Teddy stammered. He wanted to ask if he’d been crying in his sleep, but was too ashamed to admit it. “Was I being loud? Did I wake anyone else up?”

“Not really,” Brian responded, “I was awake anyway. Nerves, you know?”

Teddy nodded; the Quidditch match against Ravenclaw was tomorrow. He grabbed his watch off the bedside table. Actually, the match against Ravenclaw was this morning. He rubbed his eyes and felt a little moisture there. “You should get some sleep, mate,” he groaned, “sorry to keep you up.”

Brian had just opened his mouth to say something when Denny cut him off from the bed on the other side of Teddy’s.

“Look, would you two pansies stop gossiping and just shut the hell up already? Some of us are trying to sleep.”

“Pansies?” Brian mused, “this coming from the bloke who uses lavender-scented after shave.”

“I heard that,” Denny mumbled into his pillow.

“Fuck off, then,” Teddy retorted and threw his pillow at his grumpy dormmate.

Denny made a lewd hand gesture complete with sound effects in response and sequestered Teddy’s pillow into his own collection.

“Great, now it’s going to have drool all over it.” He said as Denny began to snore again.

“Wanker,” Brian shrugged as he padded back to his own bed

Teddy rolled over in an attempt to find a comfortable position in his now pillowless bed.

“Are you all right?” Teddy asked Victoire as she sidled into the seat next to his for breakfast the morning of the Quidditch match against Ravenclaw.

The team had just come back in from checking the weather conditions, which were miserable. Swirls of snow and ice blew fiercely through the air, which was so cold as to cause physical pain when inhaled. Teddy didn’t understand why they needed to go outside to figure that out, he had deduced all that simply by looking at the ceiling of the Great Hall. Now, Vic’s nose and cheeks were red and chafed, her neat plait messy, and she still shivered a little as she pulled a platter of scrambled eggs towards herself. However, it was the listless manner in which she stared at the food she had just served herself that concerned Teddy.

“Yeah…fine,” she responded, stabbing at her plate but not eating. “What about you? You’re not looking too great yourself.”

Teddy had woken up with dark circles under his eyes. The uneasy feeling from his dream had lingered with him the rest of the night, making it difficult for him to sleep even if he had a pillow. He shrugged in response and brought the conversation back to Victoire. “Are you sure you’re feeling ok? You look flushed.”

Victoire contemplated her plate a moment before speaking. “It’s just Roger,” she sighed.

Teddy was surprised to say the least. Victoire hadn’t even mentioned Roger Davies II name in months. And in a moment of panic, Teddy wondered if she still harbored feelings for the slimeball.

“He’s captain of the Ravenclaw team, you know. And, while there is always rivalry between houses before a game—I mean, the Ravenclaws have been really nasty this time around. I think it’s because of me.”

Teddy’s fear subsided, and he began to see Victoire’s point. He had been running around like Martin Miggs the Mad Muggle all week trying to keep track of all the hallway hexings, injuries, and pranks pulled, mostly, on Gryffindors. Yet, Teddy knew it wouldn’t do Victoire any good to confirm that she had something to worry about.

“Yeah, but Ravenclaw has always played fair in the past, I don’t see that there is any reason to worry.”

Victoire smiled a little and stuck a forkful of eggs into her mouth. “I hope your right,” she said after swallowing. Teddy hoped he was too.

As it turned out, he was wrong.

It was in fact, the dirtiest game of Quidditch he ever saw played. Not to mention, commentated for.

“And it is Davies with the Quaffle making a drive down the pitch towards the Gryffindor goal posts.” Teddy spoke rapidly into the magical megaphone as the ferocious game played out before him. His friend, Dexter Gadsby, was next to him in the stands, writing notes for the school paper with equal quickness onto a small pad of parchment.

A well-aimed bludger hit by Roxy in Davies direction caused him to duck and drop the Quaffle into the waiting arms of Jamie Kidd below, a Gryffindor chaser.

“It’s Gryffindor’s Quaffle after a brilliant collaborative effort by R. Weasley, and Kidd. Kidd passes it to Munderson. Munderson dodges Jaspar, shoots, and SCOORES! 50: 40, Gryffindor lead.”

A whistle blew just as Teddy finished his commentary. He turned his attention down to the other side of the pitch and frowned. The flying coach, Mr. Kendricks, was having Victoire rotate her shoulder; one of the Ravenclaw beaters had used the distraction of a Gryffindor goal to hit her with a Bludger. Even as she proved to the teacher that she could still play, Victoire brought one of her hands up to cover her cough. Seemingly satisfied that she was fit to continue, Mr. Kendricks made the call.

“Penalty on Ravenclaw,” Teddy announced, “for attacking the Keeper when the Quaffle was not in the scoring area.”

The teams lined up for Gryffindor’s penalty shot. Jamie Kidd, looking very upset about Victoire’s injury, took the shot and missed. Play resumed, though Teddy continued to worry about Victoire. Her reaction times were slower than usual, and the Ravenclaw team’s aggressiveness was making her flustered. She’d already dodged six Bludgers hit her way, and allowed four goals, two of which should’ve been easy saves for her. He hoped Chrys caught the snitch soon, and turned his eyes upward to watch the two Seekers search for the small, golden ball though visibility was dismal.

The players streaked down towards the Gryffindor goal posts. One of the Ravenclaw chasers threw the Quaffle towards the right hoop, but Victoire caught it easily and threw it back into play. Brian caught it, but dropped it when he rolled over on his broom to avoid taking a Bludger to his head. The Ravenclaws were doing an excellent job of keeping the Quaffle near the Gryffindor hoops. A Ravenclaw beater pushed Freddie out of the way to get to a Bludger. He hit it in one elegant arc, and Teddy saw that his partner hit the other Bludger, each one intended for the same target.

“Vic, watch out!” Teddy shouted into the magical megaphone, but Victoire had no sooner turned to see one Bludger heading for her when the other pounded squarely into her back causing her to spin wildly out of control. For a second, she was flattened against the handle of her broom. As she sat up, she removed one of her hands from its grip on the handle to feel her spine for injury. The other Bludger hit her in the gut then, breaking the loose grip she had on her broom. She and the broom flew backwards for a moment, her head snapping back into the middle goal post before she slipped unconscious from her broom.

Teddy passed off the magical megaphone to Dexter, and bolted from the stands. He flew down the stairs and vaulted the fence to the pitch, Dominique and Louis close behind him. Victoire lay so still and pale when he finally arrived at her side that Teddy felt like his nightmare had somehow become a reality.

Luckily, Jamie and Brian had been close enough to catch Victoire by either arm as she fell, and they had managed to lower her gently to the ground. And, though he told himself that magic could heal almost anything and that she would certainly be ok as she was bustled off to the castle, Teddy was filled with anxiety as he followed.

It was several hours later. Victoire’s cracked ribs and fractured arm had been mended and the gash in her head healed, but her breathing was still strained. She lay mostly unconscious, her silvery blonde hair matted with sweat, and wheezing in the infirmary. Teddy frowned from where he sat next to her bed. She thrashed out in her sleep, and he grabbed her flailing hand and held it in his own.

The school nurse and Poppy Pomfrey’s protégé, Madame Florentia, came back over to Victoire and frowned as well.

“Why is she still breathing like that?” Teddy asked anxiously, “What’s wrong with her?”

Madame Florentia just pursed her lips together and bustled around Victoire, checking her pulse and taking her temperature. Teddy tried to stay out of the way the best he could without relinquishing his grip on her hand. The jostling movements caused Victoire to wake up, her eyes fluttering open slowly. She looked around her in a feverish daze, her eyes resting on Teddy as the nurse continued about her work. Teddy smiled down at her. “Hello.”

“Hello,” Victoire tried to reply, but ended up coughing violently instead. She winced as she did so, the action obviously causing her pain.

Teddy frowned again and gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

Madame Florentia gasped during her examination of Victoire, looked once at the now frightened faces of Teddy and Victoire, before speaking. “Mr. Lupin, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“What? Why?” He asked, not moving.

“I have to finish examining my patient, and you’re going to have to leave now,” she responded, obviously annoyed as she moved over to him and began to push him away. Victoire tightened her grip on his hand, as she stared around with wide, fearful eyes. The nurse pulled them apart, and Teddy, seeing the fight was lost, said, “I’ll be back later.”

“No, you won’t,” Madame Florentia said quietly, so that Victoire couldn’t hear as she pulled the curtains closed.

Teddy lingered by the door, hoping to overhear what was going on. He could hear Madame Florentia moving behind the curtain. He heard Victoire inhale sharply.

“Did that hurt, dear?”

Teddy didn’t hear Victoire respond, but figured she must have nodded because Madame Florentia said, “Just as I suspected; I’ll be right back.”

“Can Teddy come back now?”

Teddy felt like he was eight-years old all over again, and the sun was setting, the dinner plates had been cleared away and Victoire’s voice cried out “But why does Teddy have to go home, now? I want him to stay.”

“I’m afraid he can’t, dear,” he heard the strict, but kindly nurse reply. He slipped out of the door as she came around the curtains.

“Teddy! Teddy!”

He turned his head to find who was calling him, and saw Dominique and Louis coming down the corridor. They had left to send a letter to Bill and Fleur, and, on Teddy’s insistence, had gone down to dinner with the promise of bringing him back some food. He, in turn, had promised the fiercely protective Dominique that he wouldn’t leave Victoire’s bedside until they returned, and a accusing glint sparked in the blue eye’s that were so much like her sister’s as she registered his presence outside the hospital wing.

“Madame Florentia made me leave,” he said as they approached, wasting no time in providing an explanation in the hopes of warding off a mauling.

“What! Why?” The two siblings interrogated him simultaneously.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “she just said that she needed to examine her patient and pushed me away.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Dominique spat, “I’m going in there.” And with a toss of her strawberry colored locks, Dominique pulled open the heavy doors to the hospital wing and marched in. Teddy and Louis exchanged a wary look as the door slammed shut with a reverberating thud.

After a moment or two of silence, they could hear Dom’s dulcet tones. “WHAT DO I CARE IF SHE’S CONTAGIOUS; SHE’S MY SISTER!”

There was a mumbled reply.


There was another mumbled response, the sound of rapid footsteps, and a moment later the door opened, and an irked looking Madame Florentia pushed Dominique through them.

“To your dormitories,” she snapped, sticking her head out the door, ”all of you!” She pulled the door shut behind her.

“Well?” Teddy and Louis asked Dominique at the same time.

“Mumblemumps,” she answered, brushing some invisible dust off her robes. “She looks awful…her cheeks and neck are swelling by the second.”

Teddy frowned. He knew Victoire had looked sick before the game, and he should have said something or insisted that she not play. He was certain the beating she had received hadn’t helped her condition any.

“We better send another owl to Mum and Dad,” Louis suggested. Dominique nodded and with a “see you later, Teddy,” and a wave, the two of them headed off to the owlery.

Teddy headed back to the dormitory his thoughts still very much with Victoire.

“Password?” The Fat Lady asked when he reached the portrait hole.

“Diricawl,” he responded, coughing slightly into the crook of his elbow.

The portrait swung open, and, thinking of how good his comfortable four-poster sounded, he headed straight for his dormitory. He stretched out on his bed, and quickly fell asleep, no doubt making up for the sleep he’d lost the night before and the stressful day.

Teddy woke up shortly after one a.m. He was a little disoriented at first, and he looked around him confused as to why he was still in his robes and uniform. He felt sweaty, probably because he’s gone to sleep in all his winter wear, wool pants and jumper and all. Teddy changed into something more comfortable and crawled back into bed, thinking the best thing to do at this hour was to try and sleep some more.

Except, that sleep eluded him and his thoughts kept drifting back to Victoire lying alone in the hospital wing. She had looked so frightened when she grasped his hand, that he couldn’t bear to leave her down there. Sensing sleep was not in his near future, Teddy slipped quietly out of his bed, grabbed his wand, the Marauder’s Map and his father’s journal. He closed the door to the dormitory quietly behind him and stealthily headed to the hospital wing.

He pulled out the Map to check for Madame Florentia’s presence once more before he opened the door slightly, making sure to only let in a small sliver of light lest he wake anyone else up. He padded lightly over to Victoire’s bed to ascertain her appearance. Her blonde hair was matted with sweat to the pillow behind her head, which she kept moving restlessly side from side and mumbling as though she was having a nightmare. Dominique had been right about the swelling; her cheeks and neck puffed out in a toad like manner.

Teddy was deeply upset by Victoire's appearance. She looked absolutely awful, and so sick it nearly broke his heart. Tentatively, he reached out and brushed a sweaty lock of hair away from her face, bringing his hand back quickly to stifle a cough that had risen in his throat. He located the chair he'd sat in earlier and settled in.

"Lumos," he said, causing his wand tip to alight. Teddy pulled out his father's journal and began to read, for once not caring about the dates. If he had to sit here all night and read the whole damn book, he wasn't going to leave Victoire.

March 2nd, 1978

Padfoot is in detention, Prongs is in detention, Peter is in detention! And me, I'm in the library. While I definitely participated in the prank we pulled at breakfast today, my role was quiet enough that I managed to weasel my way out of detention. Which is great, and it was bloody good fun to lord it over James and Peter. But now, I'm bored...

"Teddy?" He thought he heard Victoire call after a few minutes of reading. He couldn't be sure if that's what she said, since it sounded so garbled. He looked up from the journal. Victoire was staring at him through tired eyes.

"Hey, Vic," he said quietly, leaning forward to reach out and grab her hand. He was happy to see her conscious, even if it was at two in the morning. "Do you need anything?"

"Water," she mumbled, looking slightly confused. "Whyareyouhere?"

"Sorry?" He inquired, as he conjured a cup and filled it with water.

"Why--" Victoire started. She winced and stopped abruptly.

"Don't speak if it hurts," Teddy said, trying to hand her the cup.

She swatted it away, with an annoyed look on her face. He didn't take it personally; he was well aware that feeling helpless frustrated Victoire. She shook her head, swallowed, and asked, "Why are you here?" She obviously put a lot of effort into her annunciation and winced again.

Teddy paused for a moment as he thought of what to say. "I couldn't leave you down here. Contagious or not, you are still my best friend."

Victoire looked like she tried to smile, but the swelling got in her way. Rather than trying to speak anymore, she pointed at the cup of water he was still holding. Teddy helped her sit up enough to drink a little, before she lay back down.

Teddy sat back down as well, pulling the chair a little closer so he could easily hold her hand. Victoire pointed weakly at the book in his lap. "Oh," he responded to her silent question, "just something I was reading before you woke up." Teddy still didn't feel comfortable telling Victoire about his father's journal.

Victoire raised an eyebrow at his elusive answer, and just continued to stare at him as though she was attempting to read his mind.

"You should get some rest," he suggested.

She shrugged. A moment later, she pointed at the book again.

" you want me to read it to you?"

Victoire nodded.

"Oh..." he hesitated. But, Victoire continued to stare at him with those blue eyes of hers. Her brow was shiny with sweat, and she looked so pathetic, that he knew he'd never be able to say no. I mean, he couldn't normally, and now she looked all sick and angelic. So with a heavy sigh, he released Victoire's hand, picked up the journal and began to read.

March 4th, 1978

Hogsmeade trip today. I met up with Anne at the Three Broomsticks for a date. It feels very odd to be writing that, but Padfoot and Prongs finally convinced me to just go for it. "You're only young once," James told me. Padfoot reminded me in his usual tactful manner that I didn't have to tell her about my being a werewolf on the first date or anything, though shagging her would be good. James and Lily had both slapped him on the head for that statement…

"Uncleharrysparents?" Victoire interrupted. Teddy smiled sheepishly and nodded. Victoire nodded, rolled over onto her back, and pointed to indicate that he should continue.

…Even Lily, who has now become officially aware of "my furry little problem" (though she insists that she figured it out in third year), pushed me to just ask Anne out. She's Anne's best friend, and says that she's completely around the bend for me. All in all, I'd have to say their little pep talk was encouraging. I also must admit, its nice having Lily around more often. Now, I'm not at the library alone so much. We'll just say she is a lot better at convincing Prongs to study than I ever was...

Everything in the hospital wing was still and quiet, except for the two of them. Teddy kept reading aloud, sitting close to Victoire and making sure to keep his voice low until his eyes grew heavy. Looking up from the page, he noticed that she was asleep. He thought she looked more peaceful than she did before. He coughed a little and wiped the sweat off his forehead. His head was starting to ache terribly. Now that Victoire was sleeping peacefully, Teddy considered going back to the dormitory since he was feeling so sluggish. He closed the book and leaned forward once more to brush away the strand of hair that fallen across her face and settled by her mouth.

“Stupid hair,” he mused aloud, repeating the words Victoire so often used herself.

Teddy’s thoughts turned to his dream from the night before, and the lingering regret and fear that it had left him with. Victoire had been right in the dream; he was always keeping secrets from her. The secret of his father’s journal, and the love for her he kept wrapped up and buried in his chest. He’d put off telling Victoire for months after their conversation by the Room of Requirement, but now he resolved to tell her soon. What if her injuries had been worse? Or she had contracted a more dangerous disease? Teddy shuddered at the thought.

But, now was not the moment to tell Victoire about his feelings, so he decided to leave before Madame Florentia woke up and raised hell at his presence. On a whim, he leaned forward one last time and planted a chaste kiss on her forehead. In her sleep, she swatted at his head. Teddy chuckled and stood.

Maybe he shouldn’t have stood up so fast, or maybe he shouldn’t have stood up at all. The edges of his vision were tinged black. Feeling distinctly weak in the arms and legs, he felt behind him for the chair he’d been sitting in a moment before. There was a clatter of wood against stone, and then everything went black and silent.

A/N: So, what did you think of this chapter? Was the dream creepy? Too violent? What do you suppose is going to happen next? Please, leave a review if you enjoyed the chapter or if you didn't. I like to hear from you folks.

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