DOWN BY THE DANDELIONS
Title: Down by the Dandelions
Ship: Teddy/Victorie
General: She knows she's being watched.
Genre: Fluff/Humour - a rom-com, if you will
Word count: 3367
Rating: PG
Other characters: Rose Weasley and Fred Weasley
Notes: The ages will probably be way off in this fic, but I had this idea and decided to manipulate the characters. As we don't know Fred's age, I'm using him for this fic. Teddy is around sixteen; Fred and Victorie are fifteen - yes, the Weasley's were quick off the mark, lol. If I'm really wrong on the ages .. erm, please ignore it xP or point it out for future reference!
Dedication: To Laura, for always listening when I'm rambling about fandom and real life; hopefully this will keep you entertained and say thanks!
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"Hurry up!"
"Just stay still."
"OW! Gerroff me head!"
"She'll hear us if you don't keep your mouth shut!"
"You shut up."
"Be quiet!"
"Gerroff my bloody shoulders then! No girl is worth this much rouble!"
"A little higher …"
"Why don't you just make yourself taller!?"
"What are you doing?"
Busted. There was no way to explain their awkward, and downright dodgy, position. They were royally screwed. Two sets of curious and startled eyes shot downwards, and they almost lost their balance at the sight of their watcher.
Rose Weasley, just south of her sixth birthday, was filled to the brim with her mother's nature; foolery and quick talking would not fix this situation. She was curious for her age and seemed to have an answer for every question put forward, though she still had the naivety that came with being six. Still, how were they supposed to explain why Ted was perched unceremoniously on the shoulders of a struggling Fred? To a trained eye two things could easily be established: 1. Both boys were too young to use magic outside of school and 2. The lack of magic didn't really matter when you were ruled by hormones. Luckily, Rose was not versed in the matter of male hormones.
"Yeah Teddy, what are we doing?" Fred said. "I'll tell you what we're not doing – we're not trying to get a look of-"
"The garden gnomes," Teddy quickly intercepted, giving Fred a swift kick in the side of the head, causing a momentary lapse in balance.
"Garden gnomes?" Fred smirked. "I'm sure she'd love to know she looks like one of them. I'll 'ave to mention that one to our Vi-"
Another kick to the head followed.
"But gnomes can't fly," Rose said, with a note of 'you're very silly if you think that' in her voice. "So why are you on his shoulders?"
"The view."
"Ah, yeah, the splendid view that comes with legs up to," Fred paused while trying to move his arm to a reasonable height but it was rather difficult with ten stone on his back. "Here."
"I swear to Merlin, Fred, if you don't sh-"
"No-one has legs that long," Rose interrupted, walking closer to them and craning her neck up to Teddy. "It might be easier to get a ladder, you know. Fred isn't very tall; daddy says that's because Uncle Fred got the pixie gi-neh-tics from grandma."
"That's not true!" Fred said, obviously frustrated by her comments and the extra weight on his shoulders.
"Ya-huh, daddy says I'll be at your height before I reach Hogwarts," Rose replied happily.
As much as Ted appreciated the distraction from his some-what pervy new hobby, he couldn't help but grow a little restless at the childish debate going on below him. He loved Rose like a sister, the same went for Fred in a brotherly fashion, but at that precise moment he was glad he didn't have them twenty-four-seven. For one thing, he'd never get anything done without interference; secondly, he'd be stuck trying to explain his new hobby whenever the questions started flying. He had enough of the explaining when he was with his grandmother – or his surrogate mother – whenever the mere mention of Victorie came into the conversation and his hair changed a violent shade of red. He could have passed as a Weasley whenever she came into the conversation – a disturbing prospect seeing as she was indeed one herself.
"Sweet-'eart!" came a voice from the other side of the fence. Fleur … followed by Victorie.
With that startling addition to their conversation Fred buckled under the pressure, sending Rose squealing to the side and Teddy tumbling to the floor. Luckily it wasn't a long distance – Rose was right about Fred being stunted in the growth department – but that didn't make his landing less harsh. Face-down and highly embarrassed, he decided to keep his features concealed for as long as possible.
Or at least he tried to, but Rose was already at his side poking his head. "Are you still alive? Mummy has some big healing books but they don't work if you're dead," Rose said, kicking him in the side and thrusting her finger into his cheeks.
"Yes," Teddy hissed as he heard footsteps coming closer on the other side of the fence.
"You can't talk when you're dead."
Thanks for that update.
"Gerroff my bloody head, Ted!" came Fred's muffled voice, followed by flung legs and yet more shrieks.
"You're not allowed to say that word around me!" Rose scolded, matter-of-factly.
Teddy only had one request and condition – they (being Fred and himself) were to spy on Victorie and keep quiet on it. Was that too much to ask? Some harmlessly watching was all. He didn't think so, but then again he was facedown in the dirt with his 'victim' making her way around the gate. He could hear the screech of disrepair of the old thing, followed by an enthusiastic jump and wave from Rose who was quite taken with Victorie. He couldn't blame Rose for that .. though he was still under the impression that if they all remained still she wouldn't be able to see them.
"Your hair looks like daddy's," Rose sang through giggles.
Inconspicuous is out of the question, then.
Cringing into the dewy grass, he tried his hardest to get his hair back to the natural sandy blonde that had come from his father, but the result was that of a deepened red, resembling the roses that were overgrowing the fence – a comparison that was easily made when Rose stuck a thorny flower into his hair.
Usually Teddy was a little more confident in his own abilities, what with his Metamorphmagus trait being quite a hot topic on discussion and tended to involve a lot of question answering. He took after his father in the modesty department, however, and luckily missed the clumsy gene from his mother. Victorie, though, was the wildcard. Whenever she entered any sort of conversation or event, all logic went out the window. It wasn't just that she was beautiful but there was something about her that stood out. He didn't know whether it was because of her father being a werewolf, creating such a strong link to his own heritage, or whether her wit and somewhat dry sense of humour entertained him so. She had moments where she seemed utterly clueless one minute, especially during Potions when she would get herself into such a frenzy, and moments where you couldn't doubt her logic and self assertive nature. She truly was a wildcard in that respect; completely unpredictable and so very desirable – at least to him.
Alright, he wouldn't fool himself and say it was all about the personality - she did have legs up to here, after all.
"What are you up to?"
The question he didn't want to answer, from the person he had no desire to answer to.
"Looking for flying garden gnomes, apparently," Fred smirked.
"They can't fly! Mummy said so and she's never wrong," Rose said, crossing her arms roughly. She was scandalised at the idea of her mother's logic failing her.
"That's not what your dad says," Fred muttered under his breath, causing a comical – at least to the onlooker – glare to cross Rose's features.
"Teds, are you alright?" Victorie asked.
"He's saying he's dead but he's talking and moving," Rose said, before her eyes went wide with fear. "What if he's one of those .. those .."
Please don't add Inferi to this discussion.
"You're so bloody stupid," Fred said, rolling his eyes and getting to his feet. "Come on."
"You're not allowed to say th-"
He was mentally pleading for Fred to stay where he was, but he could hear him dragging a nervous muttering Rose back to the house, leaving him alone with Victorie.
"That's weird because you don't look like an Inferi," she said while sitting next to his head. "Will you give me chance to have dinner? A last meal always seems poetic in these situations."
"You've encountered a lot of Inferi, then?"
The same casual, sarcastic banter that passed between them; nothing more than what would pass between a brother and sister. Just the sort of relationship Teddy was looking for, obviously.
"I think I'll be a reformed one," Teddy answered, feeling a little more at ease and turning onto his back. "Fight crime, save the world and be incredibly misunderstood."
"That's very honourable of you."
"You've got to work with the hand you're dealt with."
He for one knew the true nature of such a statement. Just because he was parentless didn't mean he was lacking in affection and family – he was in abundance of such things.
The sun was beating down on them, making his eyes glow red when his lips fluttered shut against the onslaught. It always easier talking to her when she wasn't in his direct line of sight. Of course, it hadn't always been like that. They used to be comfortable in their youth – sleepovers, wrestling and any other idea that popped into their childish heads usually became a reality. Hormones, however, had a way of changing everything.
"So what were you doing before I came out here?" she asked, pulling out pieces of grass. "Mum said something about acrobatics."
"Acrobatics?"
"That's what she said."
Acrobatics was a lot better than: Oh, you know, just trying to get a glimpse of you like I do every weekend. Then again, acrobatics didn't scream cool – what with his younger cousin hanging around with them. Still, she had seen him at his worst and most embarrassed state, and she knew only too well how the younger kids could get in the way.
"We were just de-gnoming," Teddy said idly.
"And throwing them over our fence?"
Shite.
"Your fence?"
"How else do you explain trying to climb it?"
He made an uncomfortable cough that sounded like it was being strangled halfway up his throat. He hated to think how many different shades of color his hair had turned in that precise moment, though from the look on her face he guessed at least four. She looked far too amused, as if she knew what was going on through his mind and liked having so much power over him.
In his mind he was meant to be the cool one – he was older! She was supposed to be chasing after him with infatuation, climbing fences and breaking Fred's back. That was the natural, normal way things should have occurred. Did they take place like that? Did they buggery.
"I don't know what you're on about."
If the truth was too difficult then a lie was always the next best alternative.
"Maybe I should go ask Fred about it," she continued, flicking her long mane of hair behind her. "It's quite the mystery – you know how I hate those."
"Wait," he said, truly against the notion of bringing Fred's weird sense of humour into it. The last thing that was needed was for a yelled wedding march in the background.
"We were throwing them over your fence," he lied. "There's a quidditch match on in a few minutes and we needed to save some time."
He took a risk and looked to her; she was lying down at her stomach, picking the next victim for her dandelion game. She was impossible to read at that moment, much to his frustration. Instead of answering she tore one of the flowers from the ground, took a deep breath and shattered the tiny seeds into the warm breeze. She managed to get most of them off with one heave, but the few that clung on for dear life were left for Teddy to chase away.
"I thought maybe it was something else," she replied, looking out to watch the flowers dance in front.
Silence might not have been the best way to approach the situation but it was all he had.
"You've been acting so odd lately," she continued, undeterred by his silence. "And then mum said something that could make sense, but it's my mum and therefore ignorable advice. She thinks I should be a little more – what's the word? Interested in testosterone at my age – of course she didn't use the word 'testosterone' but I embellished a little. Her words were: un sympathique, jeune messieur."
At least one of the female Weasley's had hit the nail on the head. However, it wouldn't make a blind bit of difference if she didn't follow through on the speculations. It was a silly idea – and downright stupid - to think he would follow through on them.
"This led to further debate, and you came into the conversation a few times," she continued, looking back over to Teddy and quirking a brow. "You do realise you have a flower in your hair, right?"
He felt his stomach twist at the notion of him being in a mother-daughter conversation but then she went off on a complete tangent, as she often did, and it subsided.
"Flower?"
"Hm," she said, leaning over and pulling it out. She paused, hovering over his face and holding the flower up, before pushing it behind her ear. If she was uncomfortable by the close proximity, she certainly wasn't showing it. "See?"
"Were you really de-gnoming?"
How was she so capable to switch from one topic to another without any subtly? Her confidence was overwhelming at times. Perhaps she thought the move would be bold enough to throw him off and concede to the truth; they hadn't been so close since before all the weird happenings occurred, after all.
He couldn't answer, or wouldn't. The familiar sensation - a soft sort of bodily pinch –played over his forehead, and he knew his hair had changed another several shades of red, probably hitting the wild range of oranges.
"I know," she said.
Silence wasn't her forte.
"You know?"
That settled it then. She knew but didn't act upon it; she knew and had no interest in him that way. He always thought closure would come upon realisation of such a truth, but instead he felt embarrassed, frustrated and a little upset. How could he have fooled himself for so long?
"You're a stalker."
"Ye- what? No!"
He wasn't a stalker. Alright, he liked to look over fences when he thought she didn't know and watched her .. and .. alright, maybe it was a little stalker-like. It wasn't like he had a camera, though, and was spying on her getting dressed. Fred had suggested something along those lines, until the realisation of them being blood relatives crossed his mind. That conversation had ended in a blur of embarrassment and a quick exit.
"You're not stalking me?"
"Of course I'm not!"
"My mum?"
"No!"
"My dad?"
He couldn't believe this was happening – even nature seemed to be against him, as the clouds moved to block out the sun and rendered the need to squint useless.
"I just thought I'd ask; my dad is quite popular with my girl friends," she explained. "I think it's the werewolf thing – you know, all dangerous and dark. Most off them are off their heads, obviously, or fell asleep during Defence Against the Dark Arts."
"Trust me, I'm not interested in your dad," he replied, sarcasm giving an edge to his words.
"So who are you interested in, Teds?"
She knew, she obviously knew and yet she had to ask that?
Before he had a chance to answer – not that it would have been all that coherent or truthful – she had moved behind him; her legs went either side of his and she rested her chin over his shoulder. Her legs were sun-kissed, from what he could see with her wearing shorts; she didn't take after her mother in the skin department, being darker skinned rather than fairer and blonde. He liked that about her though – it was more natural. However, was there really any need to do this to him? Distract him with long legs and proximity – he could even smell whatever perfume she had stolen from her mother.
All he had to do was look down – preferably not at her legs – and he could possibly pass this all off as what friends did. Friends embraced each other like this all the time .. right?
"You know it's rude to ignore a question," she whispered, nudging his ear with her nose. "It's a simple enough one to answer, if you're honest."
He still couldn't bring himself to say it, what with her being so close and .. well, seductive? He couldn't tell - he wasn't exactly a Casanova in the making; he was a Lupin, and Lupins were no Casanovas. Lupins knackered romantic situations up, and they certainly were not the ones to make the first move.
"I'll go first," she began, circling her arms around his waist.
"There's this boy I like and I've known him forever. We grew up together, sort of like brother and sister, if you will," she explained. "Then I started seeing him in a whole different light – dead corny, I know, but bear with me. He's that really big cliché -smart, funny, mysterious and a little reserved until you really get to know him. Sounds perfect, right?"
There was a pause, not because she didn't know what to say – Teddy knew her too well to assume that – but merely because she was thinking of the best way to continue.
"But then he said he wasn't interested," she said, sighing dramatically. "So I moved onto liking you."
Always with the fun- Wait. What?
Another strangled cough caught in his throat as he went over what she just said, wondering whether he had simply imagined her choice of wording.
"You know when a girl says something like that it's probably best not to make dying noises," she said, moving her head to gauge his reaction. "It's not a confidence booster."
To say he was gobsmacked would have been an understatement. It was taking his mind a lot longer than usual to process such simple data. Boy like girl and girl like boy. Not that hard to understand or join the dots.
"Will you just say you were spying on me so I don't feel like I'm way off on this," she said, and for the first time he could note the uncertainty in her voice – a mere whisper that she may have read the situation wrong.
"I wasn't spying."
"You weren't?" she said, her arms drawing themselves from around his waist as if they too were embarrassed by the whole fiasco.
"Not spying, per se – it sounds dodgy when you say that. I was just .. watching," he said, grabbing her wrists so they were secured in their original position.
"Sounds like spying."
"Well it's not. It's just .."
"You like me too? Will you just spit it out or something before your hair starts sending out smoke signals."
Subtle, as always.
She must have taken the pause of his thoughts for yet more hesitation, as she turned his head towards her and went in for the kill. Her lips pressed firmly and messily with inexperience, as his body, startled into life by her gesture, awkwardly turned into her for contact. Neither of them had a clue what they were doing, but he felt reassured by that – he wasn't the only who seemed completely unseasoned when it came to 'copping a feel', as his friends called it.
It would be one of those experiences that he would probably look on with a friendly smile, as he couldn't truly hope for anything more from it. He'd remember the fact that she tasted of some unnamable sweetness, and the faint musky smell of the dandelions, cut grass and fruity perfume. He hoped, however, that he wouldn't remember the anxiety and awkwardness of their position, but you couldn't win every battle.
When she pulled away, slightly blushed and out of breath, she grinned and buried her head into his neck.
"Teds?"
"Yeah?"
"I like your hair like this."
It was longer and lighter than it was naturally, but he could definitely get used to it.
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