I do not own these characters or this world. It’s all J.K. Rowling’s, except the bits she’s sold to Warner Bros.

A/N: This is the prologue to a Teddy/Victoire story, obviously.

Prologue

Teddy Lupin had been watching Victoire Weasley his whole life.

Victoire was dangerous. It paid to keep a close eye on her, because although she looked like an angel, she had the devil’s own sense of humor. Her uncles George and Ron were just as wrapped around her little finger as her father was, and they always kept her stocked in products from Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes. Teddy knew – and so did everyone else, within a short time of meeting her, to watch out. She’d slip a Puking Pastille or Canary Cream in your Gran’s candy dish; she’d set off a dungbomb or Decoy Detonator at dinner and blame it on you. When she got older, came to Hogwarts and acquired a wand – ten inches, holly and unicorn hair – she’d bat-bogey or jelly-legs you in an instant if she was angry. She’d do it quickly enough for a laugh as well.

Once, Teddy had tried to help her learn to ride a broom. Teddy loved to fly, and he was eleven, after all, and they were at the Burrow. Harry and Aunt Ginny had taught Teddy to fly, and Teddy thought he was perfectly capable of teaching Victoire. He had been completely wrong. She had good instincts, but she was nervous, and she’d jerked her broom handle far too hard. She’d shot up into the air like a firework, and just at that moment Harry had sauntered through the woods to the arena with an arm around Aunt Ginny. He’d grabbed the broom in Teddy’s hand and shot up after Victoire. There had been no harm done, but Harry had taken away Teddy’s flying privileges at the Burrow for a month. Teddy had thought that was rather harsh, as he was set to start Hogwarts in only six weeks and he knew first years weren’t allowed to bring their own broomsticks, but that was nothing to Victoire’s retribution. She’d slipped Nose-bleed Nougat into his lunch one day at Aunt Ginny’s, she’d managed – Teddy still wasn’t sure how – to pass a Ton-Tongue Toffee off as a chocolate biscuit at his Gran’s, and she’d switched his real telescope, a new one Aunt Hermione had bought him for Hogwarts, with a Punching one that no one could figure out how she’d gotten out of the joke shop. He’d been afraid he’d have to go on the Hogwarts Express with a black eye, but Aunt Hermione had bruise cream handy. Victoire had been punished, but the look on her face as her father lectured told Teddy she thought it was worth it.

Teddy’s godfather, Harry, said Victoire had a lot of Granny Weasley in her, though she looked like a miniature version of her mother. Harry always shared a significant look with either Ginny or Ron – with Ginny, it was a loving look, and with Ron it was an arched eyebrow and a twinkle. Once Ron had said, “I warned you, mate,” and Harry had laughed heartily while Aunt Ginny grinned. “I love it that you take after your Mum,” Harry had said to Aunt Ginny.

In Teddy’s fifth year – Victoire’s fourth – he’d started watching her for an entirely different reason.

Victoire was amusing. She’d been trying to wrap him around her finger, as she’d done with all the male members of her family, since she was a baby and he was a toddler. He was rather used to her trying her Veela ways on him, and he was quite immune. His friends weren’t, though. Paul Peakes – Teddy’s best friend and fellow Gryffindor – had fallen for Victoire in a big way. She’d turned on the charm every time Paul and he had entered a room she was in. Paul often stopped in his tracks and stared at her as if Stunned, or mumbled nonsense or stared into space as if Confunded. He had begged Teddy to ask Victoire out for him, and Teddy spent the better part of the period between Christmas holidays and Easter trying to convince his friend that Victoire was scary. He’d even told the punching telescope story, to no avail.

Still, he finally decided that Victoire must have some kind of a crush on Paul, given all the evidence, and had asked her out on Paul’s behalf. Victoire was cold, indifferent, and almost seemed angry – he’d have called it hurt, if she hadn’t threatened to hex him. She’d said, “Why on earth would you – or he – think I’d want to go anywhere with him?”

Teddy had stammered his apology, but that hadn’t stopped her hexing him as retribution a week or so later. He’d worried about Paul taking it hard, but Paul didn’t seem so upset after the Easter holidays. “Had time to clear my head,” he’d said, when he returned from his parents’ house, and raised his eyebrows at Teddy, “I know she doesn’t want me. Just – practicing or something.”

Sixth year he’d kept an eye on her. She was studying for O.W.L.s, though, and didn’t have a lot of spare time to hex him or his friends. She dated some Hufflepuff boy called Ced something for a while, and Teddy’d kept an eye on him, too. He hadn’t really known the boy, but he’d seemed decent enough. It was his own life, Teddy told himself, which Ced was risking; still, Teddy thought, with Victoire as a girlfriend Ced would have some kind of interesting life. He told himself that keeping an eye on Victoire was for her own good. To be honest, he probably believed it.

Summer before his seventh year, he’d been unable to watch Victoire. She was away, at her Tante Gabrielle’s in Paris and her Grandmére and Grandpére’s chalet in the French alps. The trip had been a reward for her hard O.W.L. work. Despite not having results, Uncle Bill was sure his darling girl had done brilliantly, and Aunt Fleur had added, “She ees old enough to travel alone by Portkey, and she will be safe with my family. It will give her zee chance to work on her French.” Teddy missed her, but it wasn’t so bad, really. He knew he’d see her in August.

Right before school term began in September, he saw her again.

For the first time.