A/N: Woo! So this is my first time publishing anything in about 5 years. Wowwww. I'm not exactly pleased with how this turned out, but I was recently introduced to the world of Victoire/Teddy shipping and I fell in love. I HIGHLY recommend the 'teddy lupin' or 'teddy/victoire' tag on tumblr, because headcanons and fanart and such are where I got the inspiration for this little drabble. I'd love to write with these two more but lack ideas on where to start, so if you want to suggest plots or prompts for more little oneshots then go ahead. (: Of course, JK Rowling owns these characters, to the small extent that they were introduced to us.
"Why blue?" she asked, curled up against his chest. It was a position they were all too used to; legs entangled underneath the sheets, hair mussed, fingers tracing nonsense patterns against each other's bare skin. The question, though, was not familiar. In all their time knowing each other, even since they'd started dating, Victoire had never wondered aloud why her boyfriend's hair was a bright, electric shade of blue.
She knew what some of the other colors meant. Pink was for embarrassment, like the first time they'd ever kissed, or when his grandmother scolded him (he hated disappointing her.) Black meant he was trying to be intimidating, although sometimes his usual shade did just as well for scaring off troublesome boys that were hitting on her. Crimson meant he wanted her, badly. Sometimes he could control these color changes, sometimes not.
But every time, he went back to blue. It was perfect; no one who dyed their hair could even dream of achieving the flawless color he had, which never faded, never showed natural color at the roots. When she looked at the sky, sometimes Victoire thought that its hue faded in comparison to his hair. She'd grown accustomed to seeking him out in crowds simply by looking for the rather tall, oddly-colored hair that stuck out amongst everyone else. Sometimes when she closed her eyes at night, when she didn't want to face anything else that was on her mind, she saw that blue. Saw the hard lines of his jaw, his beautiful face, that messy yet stylish undercut that she could run her fingers through and tug on.
Victoire was a conventional beauty, and sometimes she hated it. She craved the abnormal, and wondered if she was like her mother in that sense – Bill Weasley wasn't exactly the standard of male beauty either. There was something wilder about him, even more so about Teddy, and she craved it.
"Hmm?" He'd been lost in his own train of thought, it seemed, and came back into reality, replaying her question in his head. "Oh. My hair? Dunno. My favorite color, I guess. Been that way almost since I was born. Harry told me, he first saw me in this picture my parents showed him, and it was this color." His voice always got quieter when he mentioned his parents, one of the few times that he was serious and lost the dopey grin he frequently sported. "Guess I wanted to stay somewhat like the baby they knew. Stupid, maybe…"
"It's not stupid," Victoire interrupted him immediately. She'd grown up with such an outrageously huge family, it was hard to even fathom being an orphan almost from birth. It was something Teddy still struggled with, even though he had the Potters and the Weasleys supporting him, and she didn't blame her boyfriend. "It makes sense. That's so sweet. And I'll love you no matter what color your hair is. We all will." She found his hand with one of hers and gave it a squeeze, nestling closer to him, and for a second his hair shifted through a myriad of colors, in time with his heartbeat, until he settled back on what Victoire thought might be her favorite color too.