This is how it happened: Potions finals. It was May. They sat outside under the tree and smiled at each other.

Her hair was the pale color it always turned in sunlight, lighter than the tint of her skin, and his was turquoise. "Teddy," she said. "Are you doing okay?"

"Bloody charms, Vic," he muttered, hair shifting toward the purple end of the color spectrum. "Potions I'm fine with. But! Merlin. Charms, Vic! How do you do this? Is it a 'girl' thing or something?"

She rolled her eyes and ruffled his hair. "Then you should be able to do it perfectly, Teddy dear!" Victoire pushed herself up against the rough trunk of the tree and waited a split second before skipping off to Transfiguration. As she rounded the bend in the path, a thought suddenly flashed into her mind: Merlin, please tell me he's not staring at my ass.

—

This is how it ended: Four hours later, an empty classroom. Spring sunlight cutting slashes across the carpet. A sheet of contraband notes.

They flattened themselves against the wall. "He's going to ask you to make the Periclean Draught," he whispered, flipping the paper over to show a diagram. "The instructions aren't in the book. You have to combine two recipes: it's the—um—" Teddy flipped the paper over again. "The Vendandt and Bericleias, and then you add milk of manticore—he'll provide it—but that's only extra credit, you know how Denby is about those things. Oh!" he exclaimed, drawing a sharp intake of breath. "You have to remember to mix the chopped—"

Footsteps echoed in the stone hall outside. "Shit!" Victoire turned toward the open doorway, and there it was - the edge of Professor Longbottom's robes. She could see the awkwardly unbuttoned collar come into view, and beside her, Teddy's hair sunk to a deep purple. She had to do something fast. Fast! She looked around her. The classroom was an unused one—why hadn't she picked somewhere else to get the damn answers to the Potions final? The counter they were leaning against was completely bare. Shit, what do I do?

So she put her fingers around the corners of Teddy's long angular face and pressed her lips awkwardly to his (not that she hadn't kissed anyone before, because Victoire was the sort of person who gave damn good kisses) and at the same time she hoped and prayed that Longbottom would actually throw open that door and look inside, because oh Merlin she didn't want to be caught doing this without an excuse and what would Uncle say and then his lips crashed back into hers and why did they feel so damn good?

… He was kissing back. Oh god. Oh GOD.

Somewhere behind her, and somewhere behind the feeling of turquoise on her earlobe and Teddy's mouth on hers, she heard the door slam open and someone reeling against the frame in surprise. "Uh—teenage hormones? Um—I'll just—LEAVE!"

The door slammed, and they broke apart suddenly and sharply. "Uh," said Victoire, feeling an uncomfortable flush creep up her neck. "Uh, you were saying about the—" Merlin, the feeling of his lips! "—the milk of mantico—"

Teddy looked away and she could see the curve in his cheek that signified how hard he was trying not to smile. He shyly knocked the paper on the counter toward her. "I have better things to be doing with my time," he said, winking, "than to be helping you cheat on tests, Miss Victoire Weasley."

He elbowed her in the ribs and pulled up his sleeve to check his watch, an intricate spinning contraption of gears and wires not unlike the one belonging to his godfather. "It's time for your class, Vic. If you ace this one," he said, a dangerous half-wink in his eye, hair ruffling back to turquoise, "I'll consider kissing you again."