A/N: So, here's a new story of mine! It's actually the first Harry Potter fic I've ever written, so I'm very excited. I've got no clue how frequent updates will be, but I'm already in love with writing this world and getting into the heads of these characters, so we'll have to see!
WHITE TEETH TEENS
(piggybacks & sorting hats)
Sunday, September 1st, 2016
Victoire Weasley
Ow! James, you stepped on my foot!"
"Oh, honestly Ronald, just put the wretched owl by the bags."
"Why can't I go to Hogwarts yet, Mum? Fred's started this year - why can't I? James keeps making fun of me because I've never seen the Hogwarts castle, and Albus gets to start next year. I saw him looking at wands in Diagon Alley!"
Yes, it was official. The Weasley-Potter Clan were gathered at Kings Cross Station, Platform 9 3/4, all ready to see their children off for another exciting year of Hogwarts. To say it was havoc was a major understatement, really.
Parents bustled around the Platform, searching for lost pets, checking the luggage one last time, and kissing their children goodbye. For the Weasleys in particular, it was loud, it was noisy, and it was busy. Uncle Harry was helping James fit his new broom (a limited edition Krum 2.0, especially signed by the man himself - his cousins were so jealous) into his bag with a simple spell that was proving to be rather difficult, and Aunt Ginny was attempting to soothe an impatient Lily Potter. Grandma Molly was attempting to dry her eyes as she showered her grandchildren Fred and Lucy with kisses and assurances for their first year at Hogwarts; Grandpa Arthur settled for patting his wife awkwardly on the back and telling the eleven year olds to do all their homework.
Albus, Rose, Hugo and Roxanne had gathered in the corner, all clearly upset at the fact that their older family members got to attend Hogwarts and they didn't, much to their disappoint - Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione had come simply to see the older kids off. Meanwhile, Uncle Percy fixed his eldest daughter Molly's prefect badge with a proud smile. Dominique was already engaged right in the middle of a heated conversation of Quidditch with James and Uncle Harry, and Louis was goodness knows where, off and talking to the various friends he had made last year.
Then, there was Victoire Weasley. Blonde, blue-eyed and part Veela, it was safe to aay she stuck out like a sore thumb in the Weasley-Potter family. Her younger brother Louis possessed somewhat of the same looks, but his easy-going nature and ability to make friends allowed him to fit in easily.
Still, Victoire wasn't going to complain. She would rather be a Weasley kid than any other in the world, and that was never going to change, no matter how bothersome the Clan could be when gathered together.
"Victoire!" Fleur called, weaving through a large crowd of excited children and parents with (un)surprising grace. "Est-ce que tu n'as rien oubliƩ?"
"Yes, Maman," Victoire assured, trying not to roll her eyes at her mother. She loved her, but it seemed like this was the eighth time that Fleur had asked whether Victoire had packed everything. For some reason, she seemed to believe that Victoire would forget her own head if it wasn't attached already, which was ridiculous, considering that Victoire was perhaps a little too obsessive over keeping things neat and tidy. "You'd be better off checking with Dominique. Elle est plus oublieux que i."
Fleur seemed to agree, because she kissed her daughter on the forehead and then took off, shouting rapid French at her other child.
"Bonjour, Mademoiselle."
Victoire shrieked in sudden surprise as a voice sounded from behind her. She whirled, a hand flying to her wand instinctively. Instead of somebody dangerous, however, she was met with a mop of bright blue hair and sparkling brown eyes.
"Teddy Lupin," she huffed angrily, ditching her wand to shove the older boy hard in the chest. "Your accent is atrocious."
Teddy doubled over in laughter, eyes dancing in mirth. "I wouldn't speak so quickly. You were the one who taught me, remember?" He stood back up, wiping away imaginary tears. "Ah, you should have seen your face. That was fantastic."
Victoire fought the urge to stick her tongue out childishly at him, but secretly, she was trying to fend off a smile too. Not that she'd ever let Teddy know that, of course. She'd never hear the end of it. "I hate you."
"No you don't," Teddy grinned. "You can't. I'm practically a Weasley, see?" As if to prove it, his hair turned a vibrant shade of classic Weasley ginger.
Victoire rolled her eyes, feeling slightly uncomfortable. She wasn't entirely sure why, but imagining Teddy as a Weasley... well, that was simply weird. It was irrational, because Teddy had been with the family for as long as anybody could remember. Technically, he should count as part of the family, right? Everybody loved him. He never missed a birthday, or a Christmas, and he was around at Harry and Ginny's every other day anyway. Did that make him an official Weasley?
And why did it bother her so?
Before she could reply with something witty, a tiny figure blurred past and barrelled into Teddy. Lily Luna Potter clung tightly to the older boy, her vibrant red hair a stark contrast next to the light blue wash of his ragged, overworn jeans.
"Teddy! Don't go! I'll miss you! Fred and Lucy are going and it's still not my turn yet! At this rate, I'm going to be the last to ever go to Hogwarts," blurted Lily, pouting as she hugged Teddy as tightly as she could manage.
At this sight, Victoire really couldn't help but smile. Dumbledore knows why, but for some reason Lily had grown attached to the only Lupin child ever since she was old enough to walk. When Lily was only about four or five years old, she used to constantly follow Teddy around like an adoring fan, or a lost puppy. Aunt Ginny had tried to stop her at first, but everybody knew that Teddy loved the attention he got, and eventually Lily became known as Teddy's little lamb.
Out of the long line of Lupin's fanatic worshippers (and she said this with as much sarcasm as she dared), Lily was, perhaps, number one.
Teddy prised Lucy off of him, instead tousling her hair affectionately. "Are Lucy and Fred getting the first year treatment?"
Teddy and Victoire shared a knowing look. Every honorary Weasley had been subjected to it - Molly Weasley was no cheapskate when it came to a grandchild's first year. Presents, feasts, adoring kisses and letters every second day; first year was the one you wanted to keep on Grandma Weasley's good side.
Lily sighed. "Yeah. It's so not fair! Hi Victoire," she added just as excitedly, switching to give her a tight hug instead.
Victoire kneeled down and returned the favour, playing with a strand of the Weasley red hair that she craved so much. "Did Aunt Ginny do your hair? It's very pretty."
Lily beamed at the compliment. "No, Dad did it! I wish I had your hair though. It's so wavy, and long and.. not red." She pulled a face at that, and Victoire laughed. Teddy looked positively gleeful at the news that Harry Potter had braided his only daughter's hair. He was filing it away for blackmail, no doubt.
She was unfortunate enough not to have inherited the trademark hair, sadly. She looked more like her mother than her father, aside from the freckles and the blue eyes. She knew she was pretty - the Veela in her brought that out - but a part of her had always wanted to look more like a proper Weasley. Unfortunately, Dominique had hogged all the luck in that department.
"I'd love to have your hair, Lily," she insisted kindly. "It shows that you're a proper Weasley, see?"
"And it also shows that you have spirit," Teddy added, scooping up Lily and swinging her around until she was piggybacking on him with her arms tightly around his neck and a bright smile on her face.
"But Muggle kids always look at me funny. They say I'm weird."
"They're ones to talk. If anything, Muggles are the weird ones. Imagine life without magic!" A short, blonde girl popped into the conversation, a black beanie perched on her head and a winning smile on her features. She looked completely at ease with the chaotic tangle of Weasleys.
"Carrie!" Victoire waved, her mood suddenly lifted twice as much as before. Carrie was a Gryffindor through and through, and one of Victoire's best friends. They'd become close in first year, when Carrie had shouted at an older boy for pulling Victoire's hair. She didn't know what she'd do without Carrie's spunk and quick-thinking. "You promised you'd write this summer, you prat."
Carrie pulled a face, adjusting her beanie as it slipped over her eyes. "Sorry! I forgot. You know I hate writing. Besides, Archie damaged his leg flying into the window and Mum wouldn't let me borrow a new owl. Bloody useless lump of a pet, if you ask me."
"Cattermole." Teddy's eyes danced in mischief. He let out a small groan as he set Lily back down, which earned him some loud giggles from the youngest Potter. "I heard you had a summer fling with Aiden Boot."
"Vi, you git! You told Lupin?" Carrie shrieked incredulously.
"Naw, don't blame her. I prised it out of her with my superb seduction skills," Teddy said easily.
To her embarrassment, Victoire felt herself heating up, the tips of her ears turning red and her cheeks lightly dusting with pink. Still, she kept her cool. Years of Teddy Lupin, and yet, he still constantly managed to surprise her everytime he opened his mouth. Unexpectedly sweet, decidedly mischevious, stubbornly loyal, these were just a few of Teddy Lupin's many colours.
"You did not seduce me," sniffed Victoire. "I was writing to Nora and he peeked over my shoulder and read the letter, the nosy twit."
Teddy made a mock noise as if he was deeply offended. Carrie, however, seemed unperturbed.
"Well, Aiden is a total dreamboat. You should see him in the mornings.. Merlin."
Faster than the speed of light, Victoire swept forward and swiftly covered Lily's ears. The little girl blinked obliviously as her older cousin shielded her from the horrors that Carrie had been about to reveal. "Car!" she reprimanded. "Don't ruin my cousin's childhood, please. If Aunt Ginny finds out, I'll never hear the end of it."
"And you won't escape the Bat Bogey hex either," snorted Teddy. "She's famous for those."
"Sorry." Carrie didn't seem the slightest bit sorry. That was Carrie Cattermole for you, she supposed. Blunt to a definite fault, and decidedly unapologetic for her actions. "I'll let you know all about it on the train then. Sorry Lils. Here, have a lolly?"
That was another odd quirk Carrie had. Where-ever, whenever, Carrie always seemed to have sweets on her. In her pocket, in her bag, somewhere tucked in her robes, scattered little storage places. And they were often different, too. A sherbet once, a pumpkin pasty the next (she seemed to be particularly fond of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes). Victoire wasn't sure if she had an enchantment that constantly supplied her with confectionary, or whether she simply restocked every time she ran out.
Honestly, she was too afraid to ask.
Lily accepted the sweet with a sunny smile of delight, but before anything further could happen, a loud horn startled all of them. The train let out a large puff of steam, as if announcing that it was impatient for everybody to get on board.
"We'd better get on the train," Victoire pointed out, with a reluctant glance at Lily. "Otherwise we'll never get a good seat."
"No!" wailed Lily. "Don't go! Not yet!"
"We have to, Lils," she said gently, giving her a tight hug and pressing a kiss to her hair. "Be a good girl for Mum and Dad, okay? Don't be too upset. You'll be at Hogwarts before you know it, I promise. We'll write to you every week."
"Well, Vi will. I might not," interrupted Teddy. "I hate writing letters."
"Lupin!" Victoire shot him a fierce look. "Don't make this any harder then it already is."
Teddy held his hands up in surrender. Everybody knew not to mess with the infamous Weasley Glare. "Sorry, sorry."
"Promise you'll write at least once?" Lily pleaded. Her blue eyes were wide and adoring.
With a grin, he knelt down and ruffled her hair. "You betcha, Lunes."
Carrie tugged on Victoire's arm. "Sorry to break up the heartwarming moment, but we've really got to go. We're going to miss the train. You've said all your goodbyes already, right?"
"Yeah," nodded Victoire, grabbing for her bags. Teddy gave Lily one last hug and then they were off, sprinting down the Platform in an effort to make it onto the train in due time. By the time they reached an open carriage, their hair was wild and their cheeks red from exhilaration, a picture perfect sight to all those who happened upon them.
The train guard stared down at them warningly. "You kids are cutting a fine line. Any longer and I would have locked the doors on you."
They clambered up the stairs, lugging their bags after them with huffs of exhaustion.
Victoire blushed deeply as Carrie soldiered on ahead to find them an empty spot. "Sorry, Mister. We were saying goodbye to my cousin."
Teddy, however, didn't seem so submissive.
"Um - excuse me, do you know who we are? My godfather is Harry Potter, and this lovely specimen right here is none other than Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour's - "
"Teddy," hissed Victoire, teeth gritted. She grabbed him tightly by the arm, making sure her fingernails dug into his skin as she towed him down the train.
"Ow - ouch, let go of me!" Teddy moaned once they were a safe distance away from the train guard and his impatient scowl. She released his arm and he winced, nursing it like he'd just been forced to punch a rock. "For Dumbledore's sake, why are your nails so long?"
Victoire rolled her eyes. "Go find your friends, Lupin."
...
It wasn't long before Victoire finally located her own friends, all sitting in a group with lollies and magazines splayed impressively across the compartment. She slid the door open with a wide smile, and was immediately greeted with a chorus of cheerful 'hello's.
"Vi! We missed you!" A tall girl jumped up and threw herself at Victoire, smiling broadly. She had curly brown hair, long lashes and pale green eyes - not to mention she'd gained a couple of inches over the summer.
"I missed you too, Nora," returned Victoire just as happily.
Nora threw herself back down next to Carrie, who was flipping through a recent edition of Witch Weekly and snacking on a chocolate frog. On the other side sat a pale girl who bore straight red hair and black-rimmed glasses, with her nose currently buried in a book so thick Victoire couldn't make out the faded title. Beside her sat a thin boy of around the same age, with messy brown curls and wide chocolate eyes.
"Abigail, do you think you can stop reading for one moment?" teased Victoire, "I'd love a hug."
"Hmm?" Abigail glanced up, looked back at her book, and then started as if she'd just realised Victoire had arrived (which was probably true). "Oh, Vi! Hi."
The two embraced briefly, and the curly-haired boy suddenly shuffled, clearly uncomfortable.
"I'm going to go and find my friends now, okay?" he murmured to Abigail.
Abby returned with a smile. "See you, sweetie."
He leaned down to give her a chaste kiss on the lips and then he was stumbling out of the compartment, nodding at Victoire as he passed. "Hi Victoire."
"Hey Rory," she said nicely.
"Catch ya later, McCormack," Carrie shouted after him.
Abigail kicked Carrie in the shin. "Don't! He's already scared enough of you guys. It was all I could do to convince him to come and sit in the carriage with us."
"See you, sweetie," mimicked Carrie in a sickly sweet voice. That sent a ripple of laughter through the room, and even Abigail couldn't help but smile.
"Okay, that is not what I sound like," Abigail protested. "Don't be mean to him! He's just shy."
"After three years of dating the Abigail Runcorn?" scoffed Carrie. "Please, he's got to get more comfortable around us if he ever ends up marrying you. I am not giving up my godmother privileges."
Victoire raised an eyebrow. "Like she would ever make you godmother."
Nora leaned over to snatch Witch Weekly from Carrie. "I think he's sweet," she announced. "Lots of girls go for that kind of thing, you know? Socially-awkward, shy, tender - it's the current trend."
"I'm not dating him for a trend!"
"We know you're not, Abby," reassured Victoire.
"Well, his lot certainly aren't my type," Carrie stated bluntly, kicking her feet up and resting her legs on Nora's lap.
"Yes, we all know what your type is," the three girls chorused in unison, "tall, dark and handsome."
"Carrie likes her men as mysteries," Abigail snickered in a sing-song tone, once more absorbed in her book.
"Speaking of, you never told us about this newest fling of yours," Nora pointed out, flipping a page over in her magazine. "What was his name again? Allen something-or-other?"
"Aiden Boot. He's a sixth year - Ravenclaw, I think," supplied Victoire, drawing her classic Hogwarts school tie out of her bag and holding it up to her neck to see if it would still fit. She hadn't had a massive growth spurt since fourth year - but who really knew what was going on with her body. "Yeah, go on, Car. Let's hear about the next dreamy boy you've picked up on your luxurious travels."
Carrie leaned back, eyes closed to give her story a dramatic effect. "Well, he's right dreamy, he is. 'Got that whole Christian Grey thing going for him too..."
...
It was dark by the time the students of Hogwarts started to pile into the Great Hall. It was storming outside as well, and while the second years and onward were protected by the invisible-horse drawn carriages, the newest additions to Hogwarts weren't quite so lucky.
Carrie and Nora seemed to find great amusement in watching the first years stumble into the Great Hall, eyes wide with awe and robes dripping with rain water as they traipsed through in a big huddle - rather like penguins, she thought absentmindedly.
However, Victoire could only think of her cousins, and how they were coping on their first moments at Hogwarts. None of them had missed any of the adults' stories, of course, but she still remembered the first time she'd walked into Hogwarts and been blown away by the sheer impressiveness of it all.
"What do you wager then?"
Victoire jumped, only able to calm her racing heart when she recognised that low, teasing whisper. Why was it that he was able to scare her so easily? Maybe it was the lycanthropy in him, making it easier for him to sneak up on people... Although somehow, Victoire highly doubted that.
"What?" she hissed back, straining her neck to try and peer over the crowds of other Gryffindor students as they observed the first years like hawks stalking prey. She was looking for flashes of red hair amongst the huddle - obviously.
"Which house do you bet they'll be in?" Teddy grinned at her, his voice quiet for fear of being caught by a professor.
"I'm not betting on my cousins," she whispered furiously.
"Fine then. Hypothetically, if you were to bet, what house would you place them in?" inquired Teddy. When she refused to answer, he carried on, cheerful as ever. "I reckon Lucy's a Ravenclaw, then."
Victoire had promised herself that she wouldn't get involved in Teddy's silly games, but - "Lucy? Ravenclaw? You can't be serious." She fixed him with a gaze of incredulousness. His eyes were brown. They were always brown. Why was that so?
"What're you going on about? With Perce and Audrey as her parents, the poor kid's bound to be Ravenclaw! Besides, Molly's a 'claw."
"You forget, Uncle Percy was a Gryffindor too. Besides, Lucy is far more about bravery than she is about intellect. Remember that time she climbed up that tree even though we told her not to?"
"She fell and broke her leg," Teddy recalled.
"Aunt Audrey was furious," Victoire nodded. "Lucy loves a good book, and she's way cleverer than we give her credit. But she's definitely Gryffindor. Hypothetically, of course."
"Well, what about Fred then?" he challenged quickly. Teddy wasn't a fan of losing - and to Victoire, no less.
"What about him?"
"His house, obviously. Oh, Fred's mine for sure."
"What do you mean by yours?"
"Well - I meant, my house. Fred's a staple Hufflepuff. I mean, look at him! He's always cracking jokes, and I don't think I've ever seen him voluntarily read a book before," said Teddy, as if it was completely obvious.
She shook her head. "I don't think so. Fred's cheerful, but he's not exactly the most sensitive wizard on the block. He's brave, too. I saw him talking back to Aunt Ginny and Maman. He's not exactly sweet, or kind, or helpful."
Teddy looked a little bit put out. "That's a bit stereotypical, don't you think?"
Almost on impulse, she reached a hand out to his arm comfortingly. "That's not what I meant. I was just saying.. Fred's the Gryffindor kind of reckless. Stupid brave."
"If you two are done chatting, some people are actually trying to concentrate," hissed Eloise Ritten, 7th year and fellow Gryffindor.
Victoire sprung away from Teddy instantly, turning a deep shade of red that could probably rival any Weasley's hair. "Sorry Eloise," she murmured profusely.
"C'mon, Ritten," smirked Teddy, all charm and wit. "You know you love me."
As if on cue, a booming voice suddenly cut through the hall. Victoire was almost certain she saw a frightened first year drop her toad in surprise.
"EDWARD LUPIN, RETURN TO YOUR HOUSE TABLE AT ONCE."
Professor McGonagall, old and greying with age, was no less lively than the day she'd taught her very first Potter, quite a long while ago.
Victoire flushed so hard she was certain she was never going to be the same skin tone again, but Teddy merely slipped out of his seat and waved at Victoire. "I'll see you around, Weasley," he whispered like it was a secret only for her ears to hear.
As laughs rippled through the older students, Victoire turned and valiantly refrained from burying herself in her robes forever. Across the table, Nora and Carrie exchanged looks and then gave her loopy smiles, as if they knew something she didn't. Next to her, Abigail patted her arm soothingly, with occasional comments like, "there, there," and "it was only in front of the whole school,".
Headmistress Diane Demelza deemed it fit to start her speech off then, her purple and black robes swaying as she stepped onto the podium with grandeur.
"Thank you for that delightful interruption, Mr Lupin." Again, more laughter from the school. "I'll be sure to keep the speech brief, so as not to keep you from the delicious feast that awaits. Welcome, welcome to Hogwarts. For returning students and newly acquainted ones, I hope you enjoy your year here. As always, Mr Filch has a list of prohibited items pinned up outside his office. I shall take this moment to remind you that all items from Weasleys Wizard Wheezes are banned."
A collective grown arose from the crowd, but Demelza merely smiled. "I should care to remind all students who are of the appropriate age that N.E.W.T's and O.W.L's are not far away, so do remember to do your studying. Now, without further delay, we bring you a ballad from the Sorting Hat himself!"
As the Sorting Hat burst into the lastest rendition of his ridiculous song, Victoire determinedly ignored Carrie's adamant pokes on the shoulder. Instead, she listened intently as the first years began to be called out.
"Abernathy, Cade."
The hat was placed upon a quavering child's head, and mere moments later: "RAVENCLAW!"
The list proceeded on, one tiny first year after the other, until eventually it came to the long awaited W's.
"Weasley, Fred."
Victoire watched as Fred made his way up to the hat, full of confidence. His ginger hair made him a Weasley staple, not to mention his toothy smile and the freckles on his nose.
Mere seconds after the hat was placed, it declared: "GRYFFINDOR!"
Victoire joined in with her house's enthusiastic cheering, and she waved to him brightly as Fred sat down next to James, who was crowing with obvious delight.
Then it was Lucy's turn. What with reddish-brown hair and green eyes, she wasn't so blatantly a typical Weasley. She shook a little as she made the trek to the stool, but she walked with no hesitance. The hat was placed upon her head, and all was silent. Students began to mutter as Lucy squeezed her eyes shut and still the hat said nothing.
Then, out of the blue, "GRYFFINDOR!"
Victoire clapped as hard as she could. If she could see Teddy's face...
...
As a sixth year prefect, Victoire was expected to escort her sleepy house up to the dorms. After leading them up through the winding staircases, instructing the first years on which paintings not to talk to and convincing a drunken Fat Lady that 'yes, Murlap Soup was veru much the password', it was no surprise that she was yawning widely by the time she'd finished.
Still, that didn't stop her from calling out to Teddy as he wandered past (Merlin knows why he was still up). "Lupin!"
He paused immediately, crossing over to perch on the stair bannister and grin at her. "You look terrible."
"Thanks," she said sarcastically. Without warning, she suddenly slumped until she was sitting on the floor, back leaning on the wall and legs pulled up to her chest. She let her head fall back with a soft thump. "I'm exhausted."
"I can see that. Still enjoying being a perfect prefect?"
"If it means I get to use the Prefects Bathroom, my answer will forever be yes. You owe me twenty sickles, by the way."
"What?" Teddy raised his eyebrows. "I thought you were the one who decided that it wasn't a bet!"
She shrugged. "That was before I won. I want the money before tomorrow, werewolf boy."
"You did not just call me that."
"I did," she frowned to herself, "but I'm not quite sure that I meant to."
A snort from him. "Figures."
Victoire glanced curiously at him. "Why are you up at this time, anyway?"
Teddy hesitated for a split second. "It's the full moon tonight. Um.. I always find it hard to sleep on full moons."
He seemed surprised when she thought nothing of it, instead yawning widely. "I wish I could borrow some of that. Do you think you can lend me some? I'll return it, honest."
He laughed - a startling, but not altogether upsetting noise in the still of the night. "I wish I could, Vi." He jumped off the railing to stand in front of her, extending a hand. "I can, however, offer my piggybacking services. I have very high reviews from none other than the Miss Lily Potter and the Mr Hugo Weasley."
She shot him a disbelieving look. "A piggyback? Really?"
Teddy shrugged. "What? We used to do it all the time."
He did have a point, Victoire reasoned, recounting various points in their childhood in which they'd played games with all the innocence of little children and no care for personal space. And she was unbelievably tired. Shaking her head (why on Earth was she taking up on this offer?), she accepted Teddy's hand as he helped her to her feet.
"Tally-ho then, my valiant pig."
"Why of course, dear princess."
("But really - I'll tip you off my back if you call me a pig again."
"No promises, Lupin."
And a few sleep-deprived giggles later: "Oink, oink.")
