Disclaimer: No, sorry, I'm not Jo. Wait...WAIT! I FEEL A CHANGE COMING!
...nope. Still me.
Well, better luck tomorow.
T E D D Y . L U P I N
Aw, man. I don’t think life can get any better than this.
Peter Henry sang the most ridiculous song I have ever heard, completely pissed off Victoire, who turned bright red, shattered plates, and then exploded at him.
She quoted Muggle Children’s Literature.
I’m not even going to lie, that is SO HOT. To me, at least.
She’d make Hermione proud. Ha.
Vicky dear also said she would rather date me.
HA! So now, not only do I have dominance over Waldo, I also win out over Peter!
And then I got the last slice of cheesecake.
Ahhh, life is good.
“Weasley,” I said by way of greeting. I was standing in the only available table in the library, which conveniently happened to be the very one that Victoire was sitting on.
Thank you, Divine Forces!
She glanced up. “Oh. It’s you. What do you want?”
I’m going to pretend that she didn’t say that in a tone that strongly implied that she thought me no better than the dirt on the undersides of her shoes.
“Mind moving over?” I asked her flatly, like asking her this was almost physical pain for me.
I’m a damn good actor. I should be getting paid for this, honestly.
“Yes.” She said shortly, not bothering to glance up from her writing again.
I heaved an exasperated sigh. “Weasley, there is nowhere else to sit and I really have to do that Defense paper, so just move over, okay?”
“Go find another table.”
“There is no other table! Why else would I come here? To bask in your lovely presence? Yeah, right.” I scoffed. “Just move over, Weasley.”
She raised her head and glared at me. “If I let you sit here, will you shut up?”
“Yes.” I grinned at her, and she rolled her eyes. “Fine. Sit.” She moved her stuff over and I plopped down.
“So, what are you working on?”
“Lupin, don’t even attempt conversation. It will –”
“—turn into a fight, yeah. I’ll just shut up.” I completed for her.
“Thank you,” She got out stiffly, after what I assume was a raging internal battle. I grinned again.
I grabbed a couple of textbooks and got started on the paper.
The Unforgivable Curses.
I sighed, looking at the title, and glanced up at Victoire. She was chewing the other end of her quill as she concentrated hard on something. I watched as she shifted her gaze to the ceiling, as if the answers to her questions were on there.
They obviously weren’t.
“Urgh,” She finally said, throwing her quill down. “Stupid Werewolf Questionnaire!”
Oh. I forgot we had to do that. Damn.
“Is it hard?” I asked her.
She sighed. “Not really, I just don’t want to look through these books for the answers.”
She sighed again, and I waited for her to ask me.
“You do know that I’m half werewolf, right?” I finally asked her, staring at her incredulously.
She started, and then gazed at me in awe, like she really couldn’t believe her luck. Wow. She needs to do that more often. “I’d completely forgotten you knew stuff about them! Can I ask you?”
“Yeah, sure.” I waved at her to proceed, leaning back in my chair.
You know what? Having a civil conversation with her isn’t that hard at all. As long as we have a safe, non-arguable topic to discuss, we’re good to go.
“Okay.” She grabbed her sheet and read it for a second. “Give three signs that identify a werewolf.”
I thought for a second. “Okay, well, there’s the shape of the snout. It’s more pointed than normal wolves. The tail of a werewolf has a tuft, and the pupils are slits rather than circles.”
“Thank you!” She said joyfully, scribbling it down in her loopy handwriting. “Man, I sure am lucky that you happened to sit here today of all days.” She added, still grinning happily. “You just saved me, like, an hour of looking through my notes.”
“No problem.” I waved it off.
“How do you know so much about them, though?” She asked, raising her head and looking curiously at me.
“Apart from the fact that I am part werewolf?” I asked, smirking slightly.
She rolled her eyes. “So am I. And you don’t transform.” She stated matter-of-factly.
“How do you know?” I raised my eyebrow at her.
“I’ve known you since I was three, Lupin. I would have noticed at this point.”
“Yeah, I guess.” I shrugged. “I just…I’ve developed an interest in werewolves. I’ve always had an interest, ever since I found out that my dad was one.” I chose my words carefully, looking down at the table so she wouldn’t be able to read my eyes.
I glanced up at her, and she was gazing at me sympathetically, almost…tenderly.
“It sort of…brings me closer to him. I never knew him, you know. He died before I learned to form coherent thought.” I continued talking to the table.
“He was a great man.” Victoire said quietly, and I looked up at her again. Her eyes were still soft.
“I know.” I said softly, smiling slightly. “I just…I wish I was able to meet him. Just once. To see what he was like.”
She was silent as she continued gazing at me, like she was urging me to on. So, I kept talking. “I’ve spent my whole life not knowing who my parents are. All I have is the words of other people. I want to meet them for myself, you know? And it hurts that I can’t.”
Teddy Lupin, shut up now! You sound like a complete poof!
“Sometimes I wonder what life would be like if they were still alive.” I finished, looking down at the table again.
Nice, Ted. Really nice.
And, the award for Most Embarrassing Case of Word Diarrhea goes to…TEDDY REMUS LUPIN!
It was silent as I continued staring down at the table, cheeks burning from saying so much to her.
“Werewolves aren’t given a choice in what they become. But that doesn’t mean that a werewolf should be controlled by it. They should learn to make the best of the situation, and use it to make a difference in the world. One of the greatest war heroes was, in fact, a werewolf himself. He fought valiantly for our cause, and even in his death, left a better world for us…and his son. Name this man.” Victoire read softly from her paper. I could feel her eyes on me, waiting for my reaction, but I continued gazing at the wood of the table. Suddenly, I felt a soft, warm hand on mine. Surprised, I looked up to see…Victoire’s hand. On mine.
I looked up at her to see that she was smiling gently at me. “He was a great man.” She repeated. I smiled at her, turning my hand over to give hers a squeeze.
“Thank you,” I replied.
Someone, pinch me. I must be dreaming.
V I C T O I R E . W E A S L E Y
Someone, pinch me. I must be dreaming.
Seriously. There’s no way this can be real. This has to be some sort of crazy figment of my wild imagination.
I’m sitting in the library, holding hands with Teddy Lupin and – get this – gazing into his eyes.
There is so much wrong with that sentence.
But I just can’t help it. I mean, I never knew. Any of this. How he feels about his parents dying…nothing. And, the fact that he’s sensitive about all of this is really fucking hot.
Plus, his eyes are pretty.
Don’t tell anyone.
It’s because of all this, combined, that I’m sitting in PUBLIC, holding hands and gazing into the eyes of Teddy Lupin.
DON’T YOU DARE TELL A SOUL. Otherwise, I swear, those will be the last words you ever utter.
You will die. Painfully.
That’s right. Be afraid. Don’t mess with me.
I will eat you alive with barbeque sauce.
AND I WILL ENJOY EVERY MINUTE OF IT.
I need to snap out of this. But, it’s just…his eyes go on forever. And ever…and ever. I feel like I’m lost in them, and I just can’t seem to pull myself out.
How come I never noticed this before?
Oh, wait. Usually I’m too mad to look properly at him.
It was really weird. We completely by-passed awkward, hesitantly polite conversation and went straight to having a heart-to-heart.
That is not normal. You don’t have a heart-to-heart with the person you hate dearly. You just…don’t. It completely fucks up your mutual hate/hate relationship.
“Um…what the hell are you two doing?”
I jumped, pulled my hand quickly out of Te-Lupin’s hand, and looked around guiltily. I was met with the confused, suspicious expressions on Maddy and Nick’s faces. Oh, Nick. I never introduced you.
Reader, meet Nick Patterson, Maddy’s boyfriend and Teddy Lupin’s best friend. Tall. Dark haired. Tan. Handsome. Of muscular build. Chaser on Quidditch team.
Nick, hands down, is absolutely gorgeous. He’s got these beautiful soulful blue eyes (that, ahem, are actually his natural eyes *coughLupin’sfakebluehair), dark brown hair that sort of flops over his forehead a little and needs to be constantly brushed out of the way (Maddy thinks it’s adorable the way he flips it out of his eyes by snapping his head to the side. She said he looks like he’s got some freakish twitch going on. I was like, yeah…that’s totally attractive), and nice tan skin that complement’s Maddy’s freakishly white skin perfectly. Plus he’s tall – like, over six feet, though not as tall as freaking Lupin – and muscular, and funny and smart and sweet…
…And Merlin, I sound like I’m in love with my best friend’s boyfriend. I promise, I’m not. I’m really just saying the truth.
“Nothing.” I replied hastily. “Homework.”
“Really now?” Maddy asked me, dropping Nick’s hand so she could put her hands on her hips. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of the silent eyebrow conversation Lupin and Nick were having.
“Yes. Really.” I replied, not meeting her gaze. I’m a pitiful liar.
“It didn’t look like it from over there.” She raised her eyebrow at me and smirked. “I’m pretty sure ‘homework’ isn’t in Teddy Lupin’s hand. Or eyes.”
I flushed. “We were just talking.” I said defensively.
“Uh-huh.” Nick said, unconvinced, throwing his arm casually around Maddy’s waist. “By talking, you mean fighting, right? And then covering it up by holding hands and acting like friends!” He pointed his finger accusingly at me.
…okay. Let’s just go with that.
I smiled sheepishly.
“Who did you injure this time?” Maddy sighed, looking disapprovingly at us. “The person is in the hospital wing, isn’t he?”
“We didn’t injure anyone!” I said indignantly. “We’ve never injured another person before. How dare you say something as blasphemous as that, Madeline?!”
Madeline, by the way, is pronounced with a French accent. Just thought I should let you know before you pronounce it weird and Maddy comes over there to personally yell at you. “It’s MadeLEEN, not MadeLINE! DAMN MY MOTHER AND HER TERRIBLE SPELLING SKILLS!”
“And what makes you think we were fighting? Can’t two people have a nice, normal conversation without an interrogation session afterwards anymore?” Lupin asked in tones of outrage.
Well, he just ruined my little act! Come on, Teddy Lupin! Us having a normal conversation is unheard of. And now people are going to be all suspicious. Good one, Lupin. Really.
“Yeah, yeah.” Maddy rolled her eyes and plopped down next to me, bringing Nick down as well. “But we’ve got our eyes on you.”
She whipped her head back and forth between the bemused expressions on my and Lupin’s faces, eyes narrowed and lips pursed in suspicion.
“Honestly, Maddy.” I scoffed. “As if I’d ever do anything with Lupin.”
“Back at you, Weasley.” He shot at me, glowering.
We glared at each other for a little while longer, and then, after two irritated huffs, continued doing our homework.
“And here I was, hoping that they’d finally chalked up to all that sexual tension and had a nice, good snog.” Nick sighed.
“OI! Watch where you’re going!” I yelled as I accidentally tripped over a pair of feet.
“You watch where you’re going.” The owner of the feet said. I looked up, glaring, right at Lupin.
“Watch it, Lupin.” I warned, grabbing his tie and pulling his face down level with mine.
The sudden, unbidden, traitorous thought of what his lips would feel like on my lips crossed my mind as his face suddenly got closer.
Focus, Victoire! This is Teddy Lupin. You hate him!
“I’m not in the mood today, Lupin. So just stay out of my way, and we’ll both just continue living our lives.” I snarled.
“You’re the one who tripped over me.” He pointed out.
“Because you were standing in the way.”
“Actually, I was standing here first. So, it would be ‘in the way’, technically.” He smirked like he was thoroughly enjoying this.
I bet he is. Wanker.
“You were standing where I was walking. It’s in the way.” I shot back, eyes narrowing.
“It was your fault for not looking at where you were walking.” He continued, still smugly, still calmly.
“AUGH!” I yelled, releasing his tie. “Just…forget about it, Lupin! It’s not worth it. I’m not in the mood for this, okay?”
I turned around and started stomping away.
“Victoire Weasley is walking away from an argument?” He called teasingly after me. “She’s letting me win?”
I spun around and stalked back, seething in rage. “Fine!” I yelled. “I’ll just finish it, then!” I swung my fist around to collide with his face, but he caught it and held on to it, restraining it from moving any further. I jerked my hand back, but his grip was firm, and I couldn’t budge an inch. Gritting my teeth, I tried punching him with my other hand, but he caught that too, and used his hold to pull me right up to him. I glared at his suddenly closer face.
“I thought we would have stopped doing this.” He said softly, his sweet breath fanning across my face. I used all of my will and forced myself to keep up the glare. “Especially after we talked.”
“Of course we wouldn’t have.” I spat out. “We hate each other, remember?”
He gazed at me for what felt like ages. “I don’t hate you, Victoire.” He finally said quietly. He released me and stepped around me to lope away, leaving me speechless in his wake.
“I don’t hate you, Victoire. Victoire…Victoire…Victoire…”
“Victoire! VICTOIRE! VICTOIRE!!!”
“Huh? Wazzgoinon?” I sat up and pushed my hair out of my face. “Whashappn?”
“Merlin’s balls, Tori!” Claire cried. “Must you always sleep like a freaking rock?!”
“Sorry.” I mumbled, blinking through my bleary eyes. “What time is it?”
“It’s three in the morning.”
“WHAT?!” I exclaimed loudly. “You woke me up at three in the bloody morning, just to tell me I sleep like a rock?!”
“No.” Claire said impatiently. “I woke you up at three in the morning to tell you that you’ve got Quidditch practice in an hour. Your psychotic captain just waltzed in here and woke me up to tell you that.”
“Then why didn’t you just wake me up in an hour – wait a minute.” I said. “I’ve got Quidditch Practice?! AT FOUR IN THE MORNING?!”
“Genius, Sherlock.” Claire muttered, climbing back into her bed. She is normally nicer than this.
Lesson: sleep deprivation does ugly things to people. Keep that in mind, children.
I groaned and flopped down in my bed.
I hate my life.
I really hate my life.
I must have kicked a lot of helpless little puppies last birth, because then otherwise karma wouldn’t hate me so much.
I’m here at four fucking A.M. in the fucking morning, freezing my behind off on the fucking Quidditch pitch.
Why, oh why, do I have to have such a strong, intense love for Quidditch? If I didn’t love it so much, I wouldn’t be in this predicament – the only girl (possibly in all of England) standing out here right now, clutching my broomstick and trying to hear Anthony past the noise of my teeth chattering.
It’s not working too well. And judging by the irritated sideways glances Lupin is giving me, he can’t hear over them, either.
Well, sucks for you, Lupin. That’s what you get for…for…um…for existing.
Okay, that was lame. It isn’t his fault. Though it is his fault for completely confusing me like that. I bet it was just to surprise me. Bloody wanker.
“I don’t hate you, Victoire” my arse. We both bloody well know he hates me just as much as I hate him.
“Here.” I looked over to see that Teddy Lupin was holding his jacket out to me.
“Hu-u-uh?” I chattered out. Why would he be giving me his jacket? He should be enjoying my discomfort.
“The jacket, Weasley. Take it. That noise is so bloody annoying; I can’t stand it.”
Oh. He thinks it’s annoying. Close enough.
“N-n-n-n-o.” I said. “I d-d-don’t w-want it-t.”
Exasperated sigh. “Take it.”
“No, you’re clearly not. Will you just take the bloody jacket, Victoire? You’re cold.”
Victoire. He called me Victoire. Why?
Mutely, I took the jacket and pulled it on. Immediately, I was warm. Then I noticed that he was wearing nothing else but a sweatshirt. And pants, of course. That’s just a given. If he wasn’t wearing pants that probably would have been the first thing I noticed. Not that I always…um…look there or anything. I don’t! Not at all! I’ve never even accidentally glanced at his bum. Or his…you know. Okay, so I might have checked out his butt, like, once. Alright, twice. Okay, maybe three times…or four. Or actually…like, seven. But I didn’t know it was his arse the first time! And then I just sort of kept looking. It’s a nice butt, okay?
Um, wow. Completely off topic there.
“Aren’t you cold?” I asked.
He rolled his eyes. “No.”
I scowled and pulled the jacket tighter around me. “That’s unnatural.”
He just shrugged and continued listening to Wood’s rant about house glory and Quidditch.
Mmm…this jacket smells nice. Sort of, like…sweet, but musky. Intoxicating. Alluring.
Uh. I didn’t say that. That was…my evil brain twin…Linda. Yep. The evil brain twin. Linda.
Linda the evil brain twin (who will henceforth be known as just ‘Linda’, since the name is too long) also believes that Teddy Lupin is a sexy beast and should be jumped.
Linda is stupid.
“Okay? Let’s go!”
My eyes widened. Shit. I didn’t hear a word Anthony said.
Oh, well. I’ll just wing it, I guess.
Linda will love you forever if you review!
Say hi, Linda!
Well, then. S-o-m-e-o-n-e has an attitude.
Shut up, freak.
Love you too, Linda.
Seriously. She's really rather nice. And she would still love you forever if you reviewed.
LINDA, SHUT UP!
Heh. Heh heh.