Can I just say that I absolutely love Teddy/Victoire? They're my next-gen OTP. I totally picture Victoire as the gorgeous, manipulative flirt and Teddy as the boy who's hopelessly, awkwardly head-over-heels in love with her. I had a lot of fun writing this. Again, the sentences aren't arranged in any particular order. Take them as you will.
Story Title: Playing Games
Genre: Romance/Angst
Rating: R bordering on NC-17-ish
Warning(s): Deathly Hallows epilogue spoilers, softcore porn--- I mean, scenes of a sexual nature
Pairing(s): Teddy/Victoire
Summary: Twenty reasons Teddy and Victoire were snogging on Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters.
Playing Games
001.
Victoire's first memory is Teddy's hair turning silvery blond, to match hers.
002.
"No--- I could never--- he's practically my cousin," she finishes, somewhat half-heartedly.
003.
Teddy is gulping down firewhisky like there's no tomorrow, and a sympathetic Madam Rosemerta shakes her head, thinking that, really, Cupid ought to be more careful where he points those things.
004.
"You what?" Aunt Ginny shrieks, and Victoire desperately hisses at her to be quiet, casting a furtive glance in the direction of Uncle Harry and Teddy, who are preoccupied in a game of wizard chess.
005.
She's one-eighth Veela, and maybe that's part of it, the source of the ability to break hearts without breaking a sweat, the reason for the smooth, imperturbable mask on her face when she walks away.
006.
"If reincarnation were true," he says softly, "I would've fallen in love with you a thousand times by now."
007.
When she leaves, the room is nothing but spaces and shadows.
008.
"Teddy, this is too much!" she squeals, delighted, holding in her arms the bouquet of blue roses, the bouquet of pink-and-white tulips, the box of chocolates and the singing Valentine card.
009.
"You're not?" he asks, gaping at her in shock, and she giggles and says, "Not since fourth year," and his heart shatters into a million pieces.
010.
The way his hands run over her, it's almost like she's something he knows.
011.
Wind and snow whip around them, the coldness tearing at their exposed cheeks, but she doesn't care; his lips are warm.
012.
She's wearing a nightgown that seems to be made primarily of white lace, and he is undone.
013.
"C'mere, Cousin Teddy, give me a kiss."
014.
It's the slight tremble of her fingers as she cups his cheek that betrays her; it's what gives him hope that maybe this is more than just a game.
015.
He finally snaps; he pins her against the wall, shoving himself forcefully inside her while her legs wrap around his waist, and in the split second before she comes, she hears him mutter into the skin on her neck, "I am not your cousin."
016.
"James always interrupts us," he says mournfully as they straighten their clothes.
017.
"See you in the morning, Teddy," she whispers, drifting off to sleep, their fingers intertwined.
018.
He and his friends walk by; she's singing softly while putting up Christmas decorations in their common room; he trips over a chair and falls face-down on the floor.
019.
"Stop that," he begs, and she raises an eyebrow at him and continues sucking her ice cream popsicle.
020.
When they break apart, his breathing is rough at the edges, and a wave of fear overcomes her as she realizes that so is hers.