Author's Notes: Here's the next one shot: This one is Teddy/Victoire set to the quote "Your Purpose Isn't To Look Pretty and Lie On Your Back". Enjoy.

"Your Purpose Isn't To Look Pretty and Lie On Your Back"

Victoire Weasley was gorgeous. She wasn't being pretentious when she said that, she was just being truthful. She dared anyone to try and find someone who disagreed with that statement.

And it was impossible to find someone who disagreed. Victoire had inherited her mother's good Veela looks. She had been told her father was incredibly handsome as well but she wouldn't know; he had been mauled by a werewolf during the war, and his once handsome face was now distorted with old, puckering scars. If you accept that Bill Weasley was equally as handsome as Fleur Weasley, then Victoire was the gorgeous product of two gorgeous people. She was very tall. At 5'9", she was the tallest and oldest of all her cousins. She thankfully hadn't inherited the dreaded "Weasley red" hair that her poor brother had. Instead, both her and her sister had the same long, silvery blonde hair her mother had. Her blue eyes were large and round, as were her lips. Her nose was perfectly straight and dainty, the skin across her face as clear and pale as the moon. And that was just her face. There was also her body, of which every girl at Hogwarts envied: thin with curves and long legs.

Despite being only sixteen and about to enter her sixth year at Hogwarts, she had already had more than a dozen boyfriends, and countless other hookups. Boys, in Victoire's world, were merely there for her amusement. There was so simple minded, so easy to seduce. Just one glance with a delicately raised eyebrow had scored Victoire her last boyfriend. He had lasted two weeks before she moved on to the handsome and mysterious Alan Jenkins of Ravenclaw. She had ditched him by the end of June though, and now Victoire was left with a boring and boy free summer, surrounded by her family.

Not that Victoire didn't love her family, but they could really get on her nerves. Her cousin Lily never shut up and her brother James was always telling jokes and pulling pranks that frankly weren't funny. Replacing her shampoo with blue hair dye was highly unamusing. Her parents were having the entire family over for a beach day at Shell Cottage and so Victoire was forced to endure the entire Weasley clan.

Currently, they were all down on the beach; Victoire was lying on her back, tanning peacefully with her eyes closed. She even managed to block out Lily's grating voice as she chattered happily with Hugo. She smiled despite herself, enjoying the warmth of the sun that was making her feel very sleepy . . . Suddenly, Victoire felt the warmth of the sun disappear as a shadow blocked it from her view. Looking up and opening her eyes, she saw a tall figure standing above her, looking down at her uncomfortable.

"You're blocking the sun," she snapped irritably. The figure sidestepped, allowing the slightly cooler sun to blaze down on her one more.

"Sorry," said the man. The voice sounded familiar. Sitting up, catching the straps of her bathing suit as she did (she didn't want any tan lines!), she looked up at the man.

It was Teddy Lupin. Victoire frowned. She wasn't sure what to think of Teddy. She never had been. While he wasn't technically Uncle Harry's son, he was his godson. Uncle Harry always said he had four children, bought Teddy Christmas gifts, and expected him around. Lily, James and Al all referred to him as their other brother and everyone else called him their cousin. Victoire didn't. She had always felt strange around the tall, quiet boy. The best word to describe him, as her little sister Dominique said, was mysterious. He was difficult to figure out, even to Victoire, who was so sure she had the world figured out.

"What do you want?" She asked cautiously.

"Bill says its time for dinner," he replied, running a hand through his blue locks. That was another thing about Teddy. He always had the most outrageous hair colors, credit to his metamorphagus powers. Victoire couldn't understand why someone would want to mar their looks in such a way.

"Already?" She glanced around the beach next to her house to see that it was empty, the sun much lower in the sky before. She frowned. "Why didn't anyone wake me?"

"We didn't want to disturb your beauty sleep," He replied carefully. Victoire frowned at him. The way he said that implied mockery.

"Excuse me? I don't need beauty sleep," She replied, standing up to her full height, sadly coming only a few inches short of Teddy, as she flicked her hair over her shoulder.

"No, of course not," Teddy replied dryly, a sour look upon his face.

"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?" She replied heatedly, taking a step closer to him, as she poked him sharply in the chest.

"It's means you're a bloody tart!" He shouted, suddenly enraged. Victoire inhaled sharply. "All you do is lay around, looking pretty, letting people wait on your hand and foot. You're incompetent! Your only talent is posing! I know what happens up at school, I hear about it and it's disgusting."

"What are you, my father? What I do is none of your business!" She yelled right back in his red face.

"No. I'd be ashamed to be your father," he said coolly. Victoire, enraged, drew her wand. Teddy drew his. Victoire eyed it cautiously; Teddy was Head Boy, and therefore extremely talented.

"Are you going to attack a girl?" She challenged him. He laughed bitterly.

"This is exactly the sort of thing I'm talking about. You're always playing the damsel in distress. You get everything you want in life because you're pretty." Suddenly, his voice dropped along with his wand. He spoke softly now. "You are so lucky to have parents and money and a comfortable life. You don't even appreciate it. You think you deserve it and more, just because you're gorgeous. There's so much more in life than being good looking. Your purpose isn't to just sit there and look pretty; there's so much more in you."

He walked away, back up the path to her cottage, leaving Victoire behind. She stood there, wand still drawn, feeling oddly guilty and shaken when she knew she had nothing to be sorry for.

Right?

Author's Notes: As always, please review. I really enjoyed writing this and I'm seriously considering turning this into a full fledged fanfic. Anyone interested in reading it?