A/N: Hello :) Thank you for reading this! Hopefully you'll enjoy it!
Disclaimer: Anything you recognise is, most likely, not mine :(
"Could we get some more Butterbeer over here?" Teddy shouts at the bargirl. Butterbeer might not be as exciting as many of our friends would like it, but now that he's a professional Quidditch player and his first game is in a few days, Teddy says that he can't afford to drink too much alcohol. Besides, it's not as if he needs it. He's drunk of happiness already. After all, getting on a professional team is what he's always dreamed of. It cost him lots of hard work, but he got there. And we're all proud of him, of course.
As our friends chat on happily, I catch Teddy glancing over at me again. Trying to ignore his stare, I engage myself in friendly banter with the only other girl there, Amanda. How the two of us ever became friends with possibly the loudest boys there were at Hogwarts, I don't know.
"He's doing it again," she whispers after a few minutes, and I don't have to ask who's doing what again because I already know. I would've known even if I hadn't seen it for myself a few minutes ago.
"I know," I reply, and I roll my eyes, to which Amanda shakes her head.
"He obviously fancies you, Emily," she tells me, as if I hadn't figured that out myself.
"And what am I supposed to do about that? You know that I don't like him like that, and so does he."
Amanda just shrugs helplessly and then our attention is diverted by the boys who are now interrogating Teddy about something.
"Couldn't you at least get us some free tickets to your first game?" Thomas almost whines and Teddy smiles apologetically, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye. I know I am to keep my mouth shut now and I see no reason why I wouldn't do so.
"I wish I could, Thomas, but that's impossible, I'm afraid. If they would allow every player to invite people to the games for free, they'd make no money at all!"
The discussion continues for a while, but I don't find it very interesting. Quidditch is nice to watch, but to me, that's it. I don't need to have endless discussions with my friends about the topic. I know for a fact that Quidditch players can actually be given a number of free tickets for (at least) their first game for a new team and thus, so can Teddy.
So why didn't he get us all one? He has always relied on his godfather for pretty much everything, so giving him the free stuff would be a logical thing to do. But since his godfather is The Harry Potter, he and his family can go to every Quidditch match for free anyway, with a complete VIP treatment and everything. Teddy wouldn't need those tickets for them.
I bet it's pretty obvious now what he's done instead. In another attempt to convince me that he's absolutely the right bloke for me and to prove that he's more than one hundred percent devoted to me (when I first heard that, it gave me the shivers, actually, and not in a good way), he got me a ticket. Including the earlier mentioned VIP treatment. What I need that for, I don't know. But I know that it's not something I'll ever get again, so I'm determined to fully enjoy it.
Teddy will know that I enjoyed it and he might expect something in return, but he should know by now that whatever he tries, he won't succeed. I simply don't like him that way. Why did I accept his invitation and the ticket, then? He didn't give me much of a choice. He wouldn't take it back when I asked him about it. He must be delusional if he thinks that this is going to win me over, even if it's a nice, almost sweet thing to do.
Apparently, our friends don't know about the free ticket policy, for they don't seem very mad at him. We drink some more Butterbeers (Amanda, Teddy and I do; the others decide to have some Firewhiskey instead) and chat amiably for the next few hours.
Amanda gets hit on by some bloke nobody of our group knows, but agrees to 'get to know' him in a more secluded corner of the pub, leaving me alone with five teenage boys, just a few months out of Hogwarts. Teddy takes Amanda's place next to me and tries to engage me in some or other conversation, but I know that what he is really trying to do is sit closer and closer to me. That is exactly what he is doing, and my brain is slightly fuzzy so I let him.
Soon, Thomas and the other boys scramble over to the bar, where they can have their drinks as quickly as they want them, leaving me alone with Teddy, who's in a better mood than usually. Which, of course, could have something to do with the fact that his first match is coming up, that I agreed to come to that first match (though it's not as if I had much of a choice), or with the fact that he's almost sitting on top of me right now. Or, perhaps, all those things.
"I'm going home," I say, suddenly deciding that it has been enough for one night, and Teddy looks put out. After a few seconds, he looks a little happier though.
"I'll walk you home!" he announces, and despite my protests, he won't back down, saying that it's a gentlemanly thing to do. Why am I living so close to this pub, again? Reluctantly, I get up. Before I can even reach for my jacket, Teddy picks it up for me already. Rolling my eyes inwardly, I snatch it from his fingers and put it on before he can move closer to help me with that.
He temporarily leaves my side (fortunately) to say goodbye to our friends, who will most likely never even remember this night anyway if they continue drinking at the rate they are going now. Not that I am still very sober, even though I only had some (alright, over a dozen) Butterbeers. I bet someone mixed my drinks with some Firewhiskey every now and then.
I walk out of the door, but before I even feel the cold October night, Teddy is back and wraps an arm around me. Whether he's trying to keep me standing, keep me safe, keep me warm, keep me near, or being downright possessive, or just grabbing the opportunity to get his hands all over me, I don't know, and I honestly don't care at the moment. It's much warmer this way.
I know that I'm giving him shivers and that I'm making his heart beat quicker and quicker and that I'm probably leading him on like never before, but I lean closer to him as the air grows colder. I was right; his breath hitches and his hold on me tightens. I sigh and lean my head against his shoulder as we walk. Whoever spiked my drinks did a great job; I haven't felt this bad, this weird, in ages.
Teddy pulls me even closer and I let my eyelids fall shut for a second. Then I realise that we have stopped walking. Opening my eyes again, I notice Teddy looking at me with great interest. Too close; he's standing far too close right now. But his hand is still holding my arm so I can't get away.
His eyes seem to scan my entire body, from the top of my head to my feet, my toes, before moving back to my face. He stares at me intently and I try to turn my head away, but by now, his hands are cupping my face so I can't. I look down and find myself staring at his lips (which is possible since Teddy has lowered his head to the same height as mine), therefore, I look back up, only to find that he's no longer staring into my eyes. He is staring at my lips and when I look back at his, they're coming closer and closer; far too close. I swallow but he doesn't notice. He's just focussed on my lips and I'm so frightened by this development that I'm not moving; I can't move. My brain has frozen and I can only stand there and stare as he moves closer to take what he finds is rightfully his. Perhaps it is; I hope it isn't.
Sooner than I hope but later than I expected, his lips land on mine and I have to admit that it's a fairly pleasant feeling. I'm not saying I have never kissed a bloke before, because I have, it's just that this is so much different. All those other times were just for fun – we were joking around. But this, this is not a joke at all; Teddy is dead serious. Even though they're slightly chapped due to the coldness of the air, I like the way his lips feel on mine and the way he kisses.
One of hands now leaves my face and is placed on my back, pulling me closer – why does he want to be so close? I thought that we were close minutes ago but obviously, we weren't. My own hands, formerly hanging limply at my sides, are now wrapped around him, although one is moving up, towards his head, towards his hair.
I am such a bad person.
Teddy must feel like he's in heaven right now. At least, that's what I think. But me? I'm just enjoying this as a snog (since it has turned into that some time ago). I could've had this snog with anyone else and it would hardly have made a difference for me. For him, it would. Call me conceited, but I doubt he'd enjoy this just as much if he'd be snogging anyone else right now. I don't feel anything – no speeding heartbeat, no shivers down my spine, no nothing – but I suppose he does, if the way he's been acting around me for the past year is anything to go by.
Teddy will now think that he has finally won; that he finally has the prize he's been waiting for forever. But he hasn't. Apart from the fact that I'm not a prize, he does not have me, nor will he ever have me. By tomorrow, I will have moved on, and some years from now, I will remember sharing such a wonderful kiss with someone but I won't remember with whom or when or why. I am so leading him on. I am a terrible person.
I break away suddenly, and too soon for Teddy's wishes. He groans, he pouts, he won't let me go. But I'm really tired by now and I calmly, but firmly, take off his arm and slip out of his grip. Some might think we do this every week – we don't, this was the first time. Probably also the last time.
I take a few steps backwards and I manage to crack a smile. Teddy doesn't, or maybe he doesn't even try. He just looks sad. I wish I could give him a hug, a friendly hug, because we are friends, after all. It's just that I know he will misinterpret my friendly gesture and I can't let that happen.
So I leave him standing there. I smile again, wave and bid him a good night. Then, I turn around and walk towards the gate that leads to the flat I live in. As I open my own front door a minute later, I glance down to where we just stood. Teddy is still standing there, staring into nothingness, not moving at all, but still breathing.
I briefly consider about calling out to him to go home before he catches a cold, but I decide against that when he turns around himself and starts sauntering away. I gaze after him before stepping into the warmth of my flat. He will get over it, I'm sure. Sooner or later, he will get over me.
A/N: Well, what do you think? Did you like it? Hate it? Anything else? Either way, if you have any comments whatsoever, let me know in a review! :D