It had taken her twenty minutes, but after dressing, primping, and fixing herself to her proper standards, Victoire emerged downstairs ready for Christmas dinner. She had been prepared to help her parents set the table for dinner, but instead found only her father now busying himself around the kitchen. Her mother had apparently disappeared off to somewhere, and the kitchen—and more importantly, the food—was now left completely unattended. Her father seemed to be taking advantage of this fact.
For a moment, Victoire absently watched as he poked around in the various cauldrons and pans to inspect what was cooking. He would lift a stove top lid, sniff—or sometimes stir—the contents within, and then taste whatever it was inside. He did this three or four times, all while remaining completely oblivious to Victoire's watchful eye.
She cleared her throat, and he looked up and smiled quickly. They both knew that if her mother had caught him instead of her, there would be words. Loud words.
"Do me a favor and don't tell your mum," he said, still holding a spoon that he'd just sampled from.
She smiled. "Your secret's safe with me."
"That's my girl. You know how your mother—"
There was an abrupt knock at the front door.
Her father checked his watch. "I'm guessing that's for you," he added before sticking the spoon he'd been using back inside of its intended pot.
Without a moment's hesitation, Victoire made her way to answer the door and beamed with eager anticipation as she pulled on the doorknob. It probably would have been an oddly enthusiastic reception had anyone but Ted been standing on the other side, but luckily for her, Ted was exactly was she got.
"Hi," Ted said, matching her smile almost instantly. "Happy Christmas."
"Happy Christmas," she said, looking him up and down and noticing that he'd cleaned himself up for the occasion. She couldn't remember telling him that her family tended to dress up for Christmas dinner, but he'd somehow got the memo as he stood there looking very handsome and put together. He'd even followed Dominique's lead and brushed his hair with an actual comb instead of the hand he usually used.
A jolt of excitement quickly pulsed through her the longer she stared at him. Here was Ted, dressed nicely to have dinner with her family as her boyfriend; not to mention, Christmas dinner at that! This was an actual, authentic holiday…not one of those silly holidays that people played up as more than they really were. No, this was big. This was the first real time she and he would be around her family without the added distraction of having tens of other people about celebrating a party. This was just him, her, and them…
"You look good," said Victoire, smiling as several choice thoughts of where she'd rather be with him right now began running through her head. She couldn't help it when he looked like this. Something about him looking this sharp always did it for her.
"Thanks," he said, looking a little self-conscious, though he quickly looked her up and down. "You look—" He stopped to consider that, a very particular stare on his face. It was a look that Victoire was far more used to seeing when it was just the two of them and things were a lot more private. "You look very—" He stopped yet again, only this time his eyes had darted to something behind her. In that instant, his expression had changed from sexy to awkward. "Um, lovely. You look lovely."
Victoire's brow furrow curiously, but it all soon made sense when she felt a hand on her shoulder.
"Hi, Teddy," said her father. "Happy Christmas."
"Happy Christmas, Bill," Ted said, straightening up his posture.
Victoire looked away, all while trying not to laugh at him. She probably should have been more annoyed with her father for making a blatant point of popping in at every opportunity he could find that involved Ted, but she almost found it a little funny to see Ted flip as quickly as he did. However, if it became more frequent, she might have another opinion entirely.
"What you got there?" asked her father as he stood aside to let Ted enter. He had gestured to something Ted was holding, and it hadn't been until he had said it that Victoire noticed Ted's hands were full.
"Oh," Ted said, first holding up a bottle of wine. "Well, this if for you and Fleur, of course. For having me."
"You didn't have to do that," said her father, taking it from him to examine the bottle's label. "But thank you."
Victoire threw Ted an impressed nod and a goofy smile, almost wondering what exactly he was trying to achieve here by playing the kiss arse. In return, he caught her eye, smiled modestly, barely shrugged, and then immediately looked back to her father as he continued to examine the bottle. She almost had the urge to tell him to relax already.
"And, this is for you," Ted continued, holding the other item that he'd brought with him out to Victoire.
"Oh, wow," she said unexpectedly, looking down at a wrapped gift in his hands. She hadn't expected any presents after he'd come home early for her, but took it and immediately noticed that it felt like a hardcover book. "I thought you getting back yesterday was my present. I didn't think you were going to get me anything else."
"It's just something small," he said.
She reached down to tear away at the paper, but only managed one corner before he nudged her in the arm and shook his head. His eyes had darted to her father, then he had looked down at the present in her hand, as if signaling not to open it yet.
She stared at him, silently asking what on earth he had gotten her that she couldn't open in front of her father. He simply mouthed, "Later."
"Well, we should be eating any time now," her father said, causing both she and Ted to glance back at him. "As soon as your mum's done getting ready," he glanced up the stairs, "which I assume won't be too long, but you know how your mother can get sometimes."
Victoire nodded, but said nothing as her father stood there for a moment, staring between her and Ted. It was the sort awkward moment where any normal person would have excused themselves away to be polite, allowing the two people who obviously wanted to be alone a moment of privacy. In this case, however, her father simply stood there grinning from Victoire to Ted.
"Well," Victoire finally said, "we're going to go in the living room. Just let us know when you need any help when dinner's ready."
Her father nodded and looked at Ted. "Yeah. Sure. Make yourself at home, Ted." He turned back towards the kitchen, where something was now making a loud whistling sound. "Oh, Vic?"
"Yes?"
"Stay downstairs, okay?"
She rolled her eyes. "I know, Dad…" she mumbled, glancing at Ted. He was trying not to smile, but the moment her father had disappeared back into the kitchen, he lost that battle.
"Well, then…" he said, taking a deep breath.
"He thinks he's being funny, though obviously he's not," Victoire muttered before she headed into the living room. "Welcome to the fun..."
"That tone doesn't sound entirely convincing."
"Don't ask," she said as she crossed the room towards the sofa. "Nicki and Lou are complete brats."
Ted followed her. "They're still at it about yesterday?"
"I'm sure you'll get to witness it soon enough," she said, her expression growing more and more annoyed. She turned and sat on the sofa nearest to the Christmas tree and quickly shook her head. The drama of that morning was the last thing she felt like reliving at the moment. With Ted here, she wanted her day to turn around; to become less about the stress and more about the fun. Just as she had promised herself earlier, she wasn't going to let Louis and Dominique ruin her day. "Anyway, how was your morning? How were things over at Ginny and Harry's?"
Ted took the seat next to her, though he left more room between them than he usually would. "Good. Grams and I went over there and we watched the kids get loads of new things, which was fun. No real arguments between the kids this year, so that was nice." He shrugged. "Very normal."
"What about you?" she asked. "Did you get anything nice?"
He shrugged. "A little money."
"They gave you money?"
"I didn't want anything," he said as he absently stared into the Christmas tree. "Ginny actually told me to stop being so difficult." He smirked. "My Grams did too, but she always does, so that's nothing new."
Victoire cracked a smile. "Well, you are very difficult, that's for sure."
"I don't mean to be," he said, his eyes shifting from the tree to her. "How about you? What'd you get?"
She took a deep breath. "Let's see. A new camera, clothes, a potions organizer, some picture frames," she paused deliberately to make a face, "and a portable Wireless and some Quidditch gloves."
"Quidditch gloves?" he asked, his face now screwed up rather curiously.
"Let's just say," she began, "that Dominique and Louis decided to take their gifts to each other and re-gift them to me."
Ted gaped a little, though he suddenly laughed. "They're that angry with each other?"
"Seems that way," she said, glancing towards the entrance to the living room. "I told you. Dinner will be a load of fun."
"Wow…" Ted said. "What did I start?"
"You didn't start it," Victoire corrected. "If anything, you finally set forth the motions to finish it."
"Yeah, but are we really ones to talk about outing other people's secrets?" he asked. "It's pretty hypocritical for either of us to—"
"Maybe so," she said, feeling as though this was the last thing she wanted to keep discussing all day. "Still…." She shook her head and decided to change the subject; instead she looked down at the present Ted had handed her earlier that she still hadn't opened. "So why can't I open this?"
He smiled and turned his body towards hers on the sofa. "You can open it. I just didn't want you to open it right in front of your dad."
She reached to tear at the paper, though hesitated briefly. "Should I be worried?"
"No, it's nothing like that. It's just— well, you'll see what I mean when you open it. Honestly, it's just something small, considering most of the money I had planned on buying you something with went to paying Simon back for that Portkey, which…" he grimaced, "let's just say Portkey fees are ridiculously high. Particularly if they're last minute…"
"So I've heard," she said, smiling a little. "I'm surprised he couldn't get you a discount."
"He did," Ted said. "I got the Portkey for free, but I still had the fees and…" He suddenly bit his tongue. "But that doesn't matter. It was all worth it." He gestured back to the present, "Anyway, I just thought I should get you something else, you know? Unfortunately for me, my timing was crap because I went out this morning to get it, and, believe it or not, everything is closed on Christmas."
Victoire laughed as she tore at the paper.
"Who would of thought?" he joked. "I did, however, find this one place that was open. Keep in mind, there wasn't much to choose from."
"I just want to know why I couldn't open it in front of my dad," she said, pulling the last of the paper off and looking down at what she had correctly guessed as being a book—a cookbook, to be specific.
"It's for the both of us," he added, obviously noticing her curious expression. "Since after that turkey incident at my flat, I thought, maybe we could use one in the future." He hesitated. "I thought it was funny."
Her curiosity gave way to a smile once she fully understood the context of his intentions. "It is funny. It's very thoughtful, actually." She turned towards him. "But, my dad wouldn't have cared about cookbook."
"I just didn't think he would have gotten the joke, so he may have thought I was being a prat and telling you to get in the kitchen and learn to cook."
Victoire stared at him for a moment, wondering whether or not he was being serious. When she realized he was, her blank stare immediately gave way to a fit of laughter. "You actually thought about that?"
"Yes."
She smiled at him and leaned out to pat his hand affectionately. "Oh, Ted…"
"What?"
"I just love you, is all," she said, smiling as she randomly flipped through a few pages in the cookbook before shutting it. She turned and learned in to kiss him on the cheek.
"Ug, get a room," mumbled Dominique's sudden voice from the entrance way to the room.
Victoire leaned forward in her seat to glare at her. "We did. You're the one who walked in here." She looked back at Ted. "Honestly, is there a Sensor Spell following me around? I swear if I so much as get within a foot of you, someone will come barging in as if they were called."
"No. No spell," said Dominique. "I just get the unfortunate pleasure of always having to witness it."
"Well then," Ted said awkwardly, the sweetness of the moment clearly lost with Dominique's arrival. "Happy Christmas, Nicki."
"If you say so," she said lamely, cloak still on and her hair now looking utterly windswept. She stepped forward into the room and made her way to sofa opposite of where they sat, looking obviously as though she'd been outside. Her clothes were now partially wrinkled and she looked like she'd probably been on her broom. No surprise there; even when she did manage to clean herself up for once, she had to make sure she was never too tidy.
"What'd you get there, Vic?" Dominique asked, pointing at the cookbook.
Victoire looked down at it. "Ted got it for me." She reached out to hand it to her.
Dominique took it and stared at its cover for several seconds before her eyebrow steadily began to rise. "You don't cook."
"It's an inside joke."
"Well…it sounds hilarious," Dominique said before reaching out to hand her the book back. "I've always thought inside jokes were the best way to be cheap and get away with it."
Victoire threw her sister a dirty look.
"Actually," said Ted, "me coming home early was the actual present. This was just something—"
"This is what I was telling you about," interrupted Victoire, though she had gestured to her sister. "Between her and Louis, this is the sort of thing we've been dealing with all day."
Dominique ignored her; instead she changed the subject entirely, as if nothing out of the ordinary had been said. "Did you give him his present yet?"
"Not yet. He just got here."
"What are you waiting—?"
"Hey," said her father, appearing in the doorway with what looked like gravy on his face. "I could use some help with setting the rest of the table."
Victoire threw Dominique one last derisive look before turning to her father. "Okay."
"We'll be ready to eat once that's done," he added. "Nic, do me a favor and go grab your brother."
Dominique immediately looked at Victoire, but after that little display, she couldn't seriously expect her to do her any favors.
Victoire shook her head. "You heard him."
"Oh, come on, Vic."
"No."
"Well, I'm not doing it."
"Neither am I."
"Yes, you are."
"No, I'm not. Dad asked you."
They both stared defiantly at each other, each daring each other to just try to push this further than it was already going. As it was, Victoire's patience with her sister was already starting to wear dangerously thin. There was no need for all of this pettiness from her on Christmas of all days, no matter how mad she claimed to be at the world.
"I'll do it," Ted offered, staring between both girls a little cautiously.
"What's the hold up?" Bill asked, his head poking back into the living room once again. He was levitating a small cauldron, which had floated in and out of sight the moment he had made himself apparent. "Dominique, go get Louis. Victoire, please get your wand out and help me with the table. Ted, you're more than welcome to help. We could use the hands."
"Why do I—?" Dominique began.
"Dominique," snapped her father. "I am not going ask you to go and get your brother again. When you're done, I want you both in the dining room so I can speak to you."
Dominique looked down at the ground, avoiding her father's eyes. "Fine."
"Go get your brother," he repeated, disappearing from the room as he said it.
Dominique had waited until she was sure he was gone before mumbling, "Ug, this is so stupid," under her breath. She threw herself up off the sofa to march towards the stairs. "We could just call up the stairs and he would hear us. I don't see why I have to…"
She disappeared from the room as she said that, though the sounds of her stomping up the stairs let everyone know that she certainly wasn't done speaking her piece.
Victoire stood from sofa all well, glancing a little diffidently back at Ted. "I had really hoped you being here would have calmed things down, but that was probably asking for a lot." She shook her head. "I swear things are never this bad. She's being especially bratty today."
Ted smirked and followed her lead by standing from the sofa. "You're acting like I'm new around here."
"Oh, she's rarely this bad and you know it," Victoire said, pulling her wand from her pocket as she walked from the living room to the kitchen. Inside, her mother was already there, looking especially lovely now that she'd dressed for dinner. She was floating about the kitchen putting things into bowls and onto serving platters; preparing everything to be served. Christmas had always been her mother's favorite holiday, so she always especially went all out with the food. There was roasted turkey with roasted sage potatoes, carrots, peas, brussels sprouts, sausages wrapped in bacon, chestnut stuffing…and that was just what Victoire could see. That also wasn't even taking into account Christmas pudding and petits fours for afterwards.
"Looks fantastic, Mum," said Victoire, searching the counter for what she should take. "Everything smells amazing."
Her mother looked up and smiled, her eyes immediately settling on Ted. "Oh, 'ello, Teddy. Joyeux Noël."
"Um, you too," he said, though he quickly made a point of catching Victoire's eye. He seemed to be silently asking if he'd answered the question he thought she'd asked.
Victoire nodded and gave him an affectionate pat on the arm before she pointed her wand around at the various food items. "What would you like me to take?"
"Everyzing needs to go out," Fleur said, scooping the last of the carrots into a serving dish. "Take your pick."
"Is that bacon wrapped sausage?" asked Ted, his eyes growing a little excited.
"They are," Victoire said with a nod, knowing that Ted had a serious love affair for all things wrapped in, served with, cooked in, or mentioning bacon. "You'll love those."
"And what's this?" he asked, pointing to something on the far side of counter.
Victoire took a step towards him to see what he was referring to. "Looks like duck foie gras with some truffles." She looked back at her mother. "Right, Mum?"
"But of course," she said.
"It's her favorite," Victoire added.
Ted seemed a little hesitant the more he inspected it. "What's in it?"
"Well, duck for starters," Victoire joked.
"But what part of the duck?"
"'ave you never 'ad it?" Fleur asked, looking shocked at the prospect. "Oh, it iz wonderful! Nozing is better zan a well prepared foie gras. I insist you 'ave some! Where iz ze bread I 'ave toasted? You can try it now."
"It's liver," Victoire said, smiling at him. "Duck liver that's been fattened to give it flavoring. It's really quite good."
Ted looked as if good was not the word he would have used to ever describe it, but he forced a very fake smile onto his face. "Sounds delicious."
Victoire made every attempt to hide her laughter. Ted was as simple as it got when it came to food. He liked the things he was used to and rarely stepped out of his comfort zone of bacon, beef, fish, and chicken.
"Mum," she said, turning to her mother, "Ted's pretty much a novice when it comes to French food. You'll have to show him how good it really is."
"Oh, you don't have to go out of your way for me," Ted said, sounding more than insistent.
"Do not be silly," Fleur said, waving her hand dismissively as she found the toast that she'd been looking for. "Zese are zings you should 'ave. English food iz so one note and," she made a face, "well, zey simply 'ave a zing or two to still learn about cooking." She handed him a piece of toast. "J'ust put some on zere. Go on."
Ted glance back Victoire, who smiled at him. Truth be told, he'd probably like if he just tried it, but the look he was giving her now made it seem like he was about two seconds away from making up some duck live allergy. He begrudgingly did slowly help himself to some, though the amount of foie gras that he taken was next to nothing. When he bit into it, Victoire was convinced he actually managed to swallow it without chewing or tasting it.
"Really good," he said much too quickly, though it took him an extra second to remember to smile as if he did actually meant what he was saying.
"Well, of course it iz."
Victoire laughed at the entire display before she took her wand and pointed it at the bowl of roasted potatoes, then the stuffing, and then the carrots; levitating all three into air. She directed each dish out into the other room, where, when she entered, she saw both Louis and Dominique standing there being lectured by her father. All three turned to look at her.
"Go finish helping with the food," her father said, a finality in his tone that made Victoire think he was done discussing whatever it was they had been talking about.
Neither Louis nor Dominique's faces looked pleased as they passed on the way into the kitchen, but they didn't say a word. They merely left as they were told.
"I'll take those," her father said to her, his tone already more pleasant than seconds before. He had grabbed at two of the bowls Victoire had levitated in and was now setting them on the table. "How much is left in the kitchen?"
"I think once everyone else gets back, that'll be everything," Victoire said, taking to her usual seat at the table just as Ted walked into the room carrying some food of his own. Behind him with their arms full, Louis and Dominique followed; their mother entered last with the remainder of what had been left in the kitchen. Once it was all set down on the table, there was barely an inch of free space to be seen.
"I really do make too much," said her mother, inspecting the table and its lack of space.
"That's not true," said her father, taking his arm and wrapping it around her mother's shoulder affectionately. "And even so, it makes for plenty of leftovers."
Victoire smiled. "Yeah, isn't the unspoken rule that we're not supposed to have to cook anything new until my birthday since we've got at least that many days worth of leftovers?"
"I've always thought we could make it past your birthday," said her father as he took the seat across the table from her. "Though your mother never lets me try."
"Five days worz of leftovers iz not right," said her mother, gesturing for everyone to sit. "And Victoire should never 'ave to 'ave leftovers for her birzday. Which, speaking of, what are you doing for your birzday?"
Victoire shrugged and looked at Ted, as if to ask if he had any ideas. He was being surprisingly quiet, though he merely smiled and shrugged at her. "We can figure something out. Whatever you want to do."
She smiled at him as everyone else finished settling in. At the heads of the table, Louis had taken the seat between his mother and Ted, while Dominique sat opposite of him and took the seat between Victoire and her father. While Ted was being surprisingly quiet, both Dominique and Louis were being unsurprisingly quiet. Neither had even spoken a word since Victoire had walked into the dining room, and it seemed as if this was going to be the theme for the rest of the meal.
"'elp yourself," said her mother, grabbing immediately for the foie gras. "Everyone please eat, eat, eat."
"Everything looks really great," said Ted, wasting no time before he helped himself to bacon wrapped sausage.
"It does," agreed her father, nodding at Ted. "Incredible job as always, Fleur."
There was a murmur of agreement around the table, as both Victoire and Dominique reached out for the bowl of roasted potatoes at the same time. It was Victoire who had gotten to it first, edging Dominique out by half a second.
"Um, what are you doing?" asked Dominique.
Victoire held the bowl in mid-air. She had assumed what she was doing was fairly obvious. "Getting some potatoes?"
"But I get the first serving of potatoes," Dominique said obviously, extending her arm out to take the bowl from her. "I've always gotten the first helping. It's pretty much tradition."
It was true, she always had. When she was smaller she would only eat very particular looking potatoes; because of that, both of her parents had always let her have first crack before all of the potatoes that she considered edible or acceptable were gone. Of course, she'd well grown out of that phase, so it didn't even make sense to do it anymore.
Victoire stared at her, the bowl still raised in her hands. "You didn't seem to care too much about traditions this morning."
"What?"
"Nicki, we're not five-years-old anymore," she said plainly, bringing the bowl towards her. "Remember?"
Dominique scoffed. "Wait. Are you really upset that I went downstairs first? Is that what this is about?"
Victoire ignored her and instead spooned several helpings of potatoes onto her plate. She then turned to Ted with an overly enthusiastic smile. "Would you like some potatoes?"
"Victoire…" said her father.
"I'm just being polite," she said, handing the bowl off to Ted. "He's a guest."
"I'd like some," said Louis.
Dominique made clearly displeased throaty sounding noise before she took her fork and stabbed a brussel sprout with it. "Fine. I just won't eat potatoes, then."
"You're not going to eat potatoes because you weren't the first person to get some?" asked Louis. It was the first time Victoire had seen them either of them speak to each other since the night before.
"No, I just don't want any," Dominique snapped back.
He rolled his eyes. "Tu fais preuve d'une grande maturité," he muttered under his breath.
Victoire immediately glanced at her parents. Louis had sarcastically told Dominique that she was being very mature, though her father's limited French didn't seem to grasp that. He had looked directly at his wife to translate, who in turn was now staring wearily at Louis.
"Louis," said her mother in a silencing sort of way before she picked up her fork and continued to eat. She didn't seem to want to address things further, and instead she turned to Ted. "So, Teddy. I hear you went to Russia?"
Ted had been mid-chew when she had asked and forced himself to swallow. He seemed surprised to have been addressed. "Oh, um, yes. I did."
"What did you do zere?"
He glanced at Victoire before looking back across the table. "Well, work sends me because there's a fairly large dragon pox facility there. The Russians lead the world right now in developing newer treatments, so, um, they send a few of us over there to keep tabs on things and bring information back over here."
Her mother nodded thoughtfully. "Sounds very interesting."
Ted smiled a little. "Not really. It tends to bore people."
"Why are you working in dragon pox?" asked her father. "I thought you were all about curing werewolfism?"
"I am," Ted said, clearing his throat and refolding his napkin in his lap. "But, it's really hard to get the funds and the time to do your own personal research until you've gone and established yourself properly. Since I'm at the bottom of the ladder right now, I have to work my up before I can really delve into doing what I want to do."
"That's what all this dragon pox stuff is," Victoire added. "It's proving himself." She looked back at Ted and smiled. "And one day he'll go and cure it all."
He laughed modestly. "That is goal." He looked back at both her parents. "But, I do find some time here and there to work in werewolf studies. I won't get into the details since I'll put you all to sleep, but I have a theory that perhaps something in the Metamorphmagus gene structure may unlock a key in eliminating the lycanthropy completely."
"Lycan-what?" asked Dominique. "Do you really talk like that?"
"It's really just another term for the elements of werewolfism," said Ted, smirking at her. "And yes. I do."
Victoire smiled at him. It was probably very silly, but she secretly loved when he got particularly intellectual about things. It was certainly a turn on, and the fact that he was dressed as nice as he was right now certainly wasn't helping her to turn anything off. If only made her wish her family was elsewhere at the moment. Far, far away…
"Well, it all sounds very impressive," said her mother as she cut up a piece of turkey. "I barely understand a word of it, but I am sure it iz very complicated."
"You're saying," her father added, pointing his fork at Ted, "that you think something in your genes as a Metamorphmagus could cure werewolfism?"
"It's just a theory I have," Ted said. "It would take years to actually back it up."
"And I take it," he continued, "that you based this on the fact that you were born a Metamorphmagus and not a werewolf, correct?"
Ted seemed surprised to hear that. "Yeah. That's exactly where it stemmed from."
Her father hummed. "That's actually fairly brilliant."
Victoire glanced almost wide-eyed between her father and Ted. Not only did her father look rather fascinated by this entire conversation, but he also looked moderately impressed. Not to mention Ted, who seemed to be feeding off the fact that someone was actually fascinated by it. When he usually got to talking about lycanthropy, antidotes, and viral samples, people generally didn't press him for more information than necessary. A simple, 'Oh that's nice," and a nod of the head generally sufficed before they moved on to talking about the weather.
"I wish I could claim I was the first to ever have the theory," Ted said, his entire quiet demeanor gone now. "Variations of it have been kicked around for ages now, it's just," he shrugged, "to my knowledge, I'm the first one to have it that also has the means to test it…you know, since I am a Metamorphmagus."
"Wouldn't that be something?" asked her father, leaning back in his chair and looking as if he was pondering the thought.
Victoire glanced back at Ted with a slightly awestruck expression. He threw her another quick smile, which made her wonder if he was thinking the same thing she was. This was certainly one way to win her father over.
"Well, I know one zing," said her mother, smiling fondly as Ted "Boz of your parents would be very, very, proud of you, Teddy. Zat I 'ave no doubt about."
"I'd say so," said her father. "Your dad would probably get a kick out of all of this."
Ted smiled. "I like to think they would be."
"You don't even have to think," said her father. "I knew them both well enough to know for a fact that they would be."
"Is this the part where you tell the story about the night Ted's dad came over to announce to everyone he'd been born?" Louis asked, smiling a little.
"No," said their father, throwing him a funny smile. "Apparently, I've told that story enough."
"It was a dark and stormy night…" Victoire joked.
"I have never started it like that…"
Victoire laughed and looked over at Ted to see that he was laughing a little himself. She moved her foot under the table and nudged his leg, which made him look at her. She smiled as if to silently say, "See? Not so bad, huh?"
She left her foot resting against his for the rest of dinner, which turned out to not be nearly as bad as she had anticipated. Sure, Louis and Dominique for the most part sat sourly on their ends of table—adding to the discussion here and there, but mostly silently observing—but it almost didn't matter. Once Ted dropped the oddly nervous act, she'd barely paid attention to them one way or the other; instead she'd enjoyed the fact that her parents seemed to be in a good mood, Ted seemed to be in a good mood, and she certainly was in a good mood. It was especially nice to see Ted finally act at ease around her parents, and it was equally as nice that they finally seemed to have accepted that this relationship was real and not just some sort of act. Those two things alone made all the crap Victoire had been put through that day completely worth it.
After pudding was had and crackers cracked—the later of which had made Victoire's ear ring after Dominique had opened hers right next to her ear without warning her of the cannon like boom—Victoire stood with her wand raised ready to help clear the table.
"No, Nic and Louis will do it," said her father, gesturing for Victoire to put her wand away. "They knew this before dinner started."
Both Dominique and Louis looked as if they had hoped her father had forgotten this detail, but they slowly started picking dishes up off the table one by one.
"Everything was really fantastic," said Ted, looking from her father to her mother. "Thank you for having me."
"It was a pleasure," said her mother with a look that seemed marginally pleased that it was all said and done; not to be work on again for an entire year.
Victoire looked back at Ted. "I still have to get you your present." She turned to her parents. "May we be excused so I can do that?"
"Yeah," her father nodded. "You two can go."
Victoire stood from the table, but hesitated moving any further. "It's upstairs."
Both her mother and father stared at her, seemingly wondering what that had to do with anything.
She looked back at Ted, who had stood to follow her, but had also stopped when she had. "Well, I…" She looked back at her parents. "Can he go up there with me so he can get it?"
"Why not just bring it downstairs?" her father asked.
Victoire shrugged. She didn't exactly know how to say it was because she'd like a few minutes of privacy with him without validating every reason her parents didn't want him up in her room in the first place. "It would be maybe five minutes."
"Why not just bring downstairs?" her father repeated.
"I don't see why you won't let us have boys upstairs," Dominique said, still piling dishes on top of dishes. "It's not like either of us are stupid enough to fool around with someone while you're literally downstairs and could walk in at any point."
Victoire inhaled sharply and noticed that Ted immediately looked in any direction but the one her parents were in. Putting mental pictures like that into her father's head was not going to help matters. The last thing she wanted either of her parents to think was that she even knew what the concept of fooling around meant. That was something she hoped they both remained blissfully ignorant about.
"Five minutes," said her mother as she stood from the table and began to help with the clean up.
"Door stays open," said her father, checking his watch. "Starting now."
Victoire blinked at the sheer suddenness of what had just transpired. Had they both actually—? She blinked again. She didn't have time to think about this; instead she looked at Ted and immediately nudged him towards the stairs.
He seemed a little hesitant, but didn't argue with her as she led the way towards her room.
"This is definitely been a strange little day," Ted said as he followed her into the all too familiar confines of her room—the very room that he used to be able to walk freely into whenever he damn well pleased, only to now be put on a time limit.
"Tell me about it," Victoire said, walking over to her desk to pick up the two wrapped presents she had gotten for him. "But we expected a little weirdness, right?"
"We expected something," he said, taking a seat on her bed.
"Thank you for being so patient with my family," she said as she stepped directly in front of him with the presents in her hands.
He smiled. "It wasn't so bad."
"Yeah, but you didn't have to do it. The fact that you did…"
"I know." He reached up and pulled the front of her jumped towards him so that there was barely a space left between where she stood and he sat. Without worrying who could walk by at any moment, Victoire didn't even hesitate to let herself fall into the motions of kissing him, even though she knew she really shouldn't have. With the mindset she was currently in—what with him looking as handsome as he did and being as patient as he was—she knew then that the kissing wouldn't be something she'd want to give up after a few seconds. She'd want it to keep going and going. She wouldn't be able to pull away.
And she couldn't. Once her lips were pressed against his that was all she cared about. She wasn't pulling away and he wasn't pulling away. In fact, the more seconds that ticked by, the more and more intense and hurried things became. It was the sort of kissing that should be leading to her pushing him down and climbing on top of him, but that couldn't happen; not here, not now. However, one thing was abundantly clear. Four months of pent up sexual frustration was still begging for a release.
"I think we've only got two and a half more minutes," she said a little breathlessly, pulling away from his mouth for just a second. "You should probably open something."
"This is pretty much all I want for Christmas," he said, pulling her face back towards his.
"Yes, but they're going to wonder," she said, finally tearing herself away from him. "When you go back down, they're going to wonder why you don't have anything."
Ted sighed heavily, his neat hair now unkempt and looking far more like he usually wore it. He nodded once. "You're right," he said, looking at the presents that were now down on the ground. Victoire wasn't quite sure when she had dropped them, but she watched as Ted reached down and picked them both up off the floor.
She went and took the seat beside him, running her hand through her own hair once she realized it too was messy frazzled. Her pulse had already been racing after what had just happened, but it accelerated even faster now that she knew he was finally going to see the gifts she'd put together for him.
"Happy Christmas," she added. "You're impossible to shop for."
He laughed a little. "So I'm told."
"I stayed up half the night finishing this," she said, pointing to it to the coupons, "because I didn't expect you back until tomorrow."
"You didn't have to do that."
"But I liked the way it turned out," she continued. "So," she smiled nervously, "I hope you like it."
Ted's smile turned curious the longer he watched her, but he said nothing as he focused on the larger of the two packages and examined it for the best place to tear at the wrapping paper. He hadn't even been holding it for three seconds before Victoire reached out and took it back from him.
"Open the smaller one first," she said, gesturing to the coupons.
He shrugged and reached for the smaller of the two, again inspecting it for the best place to tear at the paper. Victoire could hear her heart thumping in her ears as she watched him.
He'd tugged and pulled the last of the paper away, examining what lay before him. It was a small paper book, bound by twine and no bigger than his hand. He stared at the makeshift cover for a moment before reaching out to search its contents. Victoire's expression remained tentative as his eyes flickered over what was inside.
After a brief silence, he suddenly let out a short laugh as he stopped on one page in particular.
Victoire looked to see what he had read. It was the Quidditch one; the one allowing him to listen as many hours without complaint. "That one came to me after that one night back in September. Remember, you had the Wasps match on the Wireless, and it was probably the longest match in the history of the sport."
"Just seven hours," he said, still smiling.
"Exactly," she said. "I remember coming over and you telling me it had already been on for four, but when it kept going, I started getting antsy and asking you when you thought it would be done, and you started getting annoyed—"
"I wouldn't say I was annoyed…"
"Every time I talked you'd freak out that you'd just missed something," she countered, shaking her head. "If you weren't annoyed, I sure was. But yeah, the next time that happens," she pointed to the coupon, "now you've got that."
"That's fantastic," he said, flipping the page to the next one and reading what it said. Victoire couldn't tell which ones he was looking at, but he continued to smile as he flipped from one, to the next, to the next. As he neared the end, he suddenly stopped and scanned the current page a little more intently. Victoire knew just by where he was in book that it was the one Whit had made on the spot the night before concerning fooling around; the one Victoire had made five copies off with the suggested fine print and all.
Ted pulled the coupon up closer to his face to read the small, fine print lettering; a funny smile crawling over his face. "This one is definitely getting used. I'd use it right now if I could…"
"There are a few of those," she said, turning the last few pages for him. "I thought those would get some use."
He smirked as he continued to flip through the pages. "This will be very fun…"
"Yeah…I had a few others I was thinking about," she said, looking down at the ground. She thought about Whit's other idea for sex minded coupons; the ones Victoire hadn't had the courage to actually write down, even though she'd gone back and forth several times on whether she should last night. She wasn't sure why she even felt inclined to mention them to him, but she knew that in doing so it would create the opening she needed to let Ted know she was thinking about sex. She did want him to know she was thinking about it…
"Um, but anyway," she continued, looking back at the book in his hands, "I decided that those last ones were pretty all encompassing since they could always lead to,,," she looked back at him, "you know, other stuff."
He didn't look up or even flinch, but instead continued absently scanning the pages. "Yeah."
His lack of any sort of reaction clearly said he wasn't picking up on what she was trying to insinuate here. She knew she was being entirely too vague, but she had been hoping he'd at least sort of pick up on the hint that—
"Wait, what sort of other stuff are you talking about?" he asked suddenly, his head snapping towards her.
She laughed a little anxiously. Apparently, he had just needed a second. "Well, other stuff that I really should not be talking about when anyone in my family could walk in here," she gestured to the door, "at any minute." She looked back at him. "But it's something I think we should talk about…That I want to talk about."
Ted stared at her at little blankly, his expression now clearly saying he'd picked up exactly where this was going.
"So, yeah…" She suddenly felt strangely awkward about how stupid this entire conversation was probably sounding. "I figured we could talk about that later. When we don't have to worry about people listening and…" She looked away from his face, knowing that she probably sounded ridiculous. Why had she brought this up like this?
"Vic."
"Oh!" she said before he could continue. She had remembered she was still holding his other present and immediately held it out to him, as if forcing him to take it. "Look. You still have to open this!"
He didn't take it. He was now watching her with an odd mix of curiosity and amusement.
"We've only got like thirty seconds before—"
Louis suddenly appeared in the door way and made a point of knocking while covering his eyes with his other free hand. "Everybody decent?"
"Ha, ha," Victoire mumbled.
He pulled his hand away from his eyes. "Dad said time is up."
Victoire rolled her eyes. She knew all too well that her father was being literal when he'd said five minutes, but she still hadn't wanted to believe he would actually time them.
"We've still got one more present," she said, pointing to Ted's second gift. "Tell him I need a few more minutes. Mention that you walked up here and we were behaving ourselves."
Louis stuck out his tongue in disgust. "Whether or not you were behaving yourself is not something I will ever discuss with Dad under any circumstance." He turned away. "Though, I will be nice and tell him you need a minute."
"Thank you!" Victoire called after him, glancing back at Ted. He had looked away when Louis walked in, but was now back to staring at her.
"Open it," she said, gesturing to the second gift. "If we've only got a minute, then we've really only got one minute."
Ted cracked a small smile before looking down at the gift in his hand. "I'm kind of preoccupied by what you…" He laughed. "We need to talk."
"And we will, but later." She pointed to the present for what felt like the tenth time. She really should have had him open it before she bridged any sex related issues. "In the meantime, this other gift will take your mind off things."
"I doubt that."
"No, it will," she said, her tone more serious than she had intended it to be.
He smiled. "You want to bet?"
She stared at him, knowing that this was a bet she could easily win. He'd be eating his words in just a minute's time. "Just open it."
Ted continued to smile, though he shook his head as if he thought she really didn't know what she was saying. However, with one solid rip, he tore at the paper and pulled it all off. What was left in his hands was a picture frame that was facing down.
"It's picture frame," he said blankly. He examined it for a half a second before looking back at Victoire. "Yeah, that didn't work. I'm still thinking about—."
"With a picture," she interrupted, watching his face tentatively. She could feel her heart thumping loudly in her chest. She just wanted him to see it already.
He flipped it over to look at front of the frame properly, and, just as she had anticipated, the smile he had on his face quickly slipped away. His gaze hardened before he pulled the fame up to get a closer look. "That's…"
"I know," Victoire said, smiling slowly as she watched him.
Staring back at him from within the depth of the frame below were Ted's parents; both of them standing together, fully in frame, waving back at him. His mother was beaming, her bright bubble gum pink hair standing out clearly from everything else in the photo. His father was smiling more subtlety. It was a smile and a look that had reminded her of Ted when he was tired, or when he was attempting to put on a brave face. She'd seen him muster the same smile a hundred times in the past.
"Where did you get this?" he finally asked.
"It's from my parents' wedding," she said as she stared at the photo with him. "My grandparents had this big box of wedding photos that they'd been keeping for ages, but just recently gave to my mum for her twentieth wedding anniversary in August. I only just found it, and when I was going through it, I found this photo." She pointed at the photo in his hand. "And there's a few more…"
She reached behind him and over to her desk, where she picked up the other five photographs she had found in that box that had somehow featured Ted's parents. They weren't as prominent as the one she had framed, but they were in them—sitting at a table, talking with other people, laughing at a joke, standing in the background. Victoire had scanned the entire box and taken every photo that they had appeared in and plucked them out.
Ted gaped, his eyes immediately settling on the ones she had just handed him. In the span of five minutes, he'd gone from having barely one photo of his parents together to having a handful.
"I cannot believe…" he said, his tone sounding far away.
"I know," Victoire said.
His eyes focused on one photo in particular—of them standing just barely in the foreground near the dance floor—before he let a small laugh escape him. "My dad looks annoyed in this one."
"I saw that too. I wonder what was on his mind."
"My mum's glowing," he said fondly, swallowing hard. "Look at her."
"She's beautiful," Victoire said as she fed of Ted's obvious excitement. "But you know why though, right?"
"Why, what?"
"Why she's glowing," she said obviously. "All you have to do is do the math."
He glanced back at her.
Victoire rolled her eyes, but continued smiling. "My parents got married on August 1st 1997. You were born in April of 1998." She motioned to the photo. "She's glowing because of you, Ted, because she's pregnant with you. Fairly early on, I might add."
He didn't say anything, but a small smile cracked the longer he stared at the photos.
"Technically," Victoire continued, "all three of you are in that photo." She pointed at Ted's mother's stomach. "You're somewhere in there."
"This is…" He gaped. He looked lost for words.
"I know." Victoire smiled again. "Happy Christm—"
"Vic!" called the voice of her father.
"Fine!" Victoire yelled back, her eyes rolling involuntary as she quickly stood from the bed. "We're coming!" She glanced back at Ted. "I cannot wait until I can—"
She didn't get to finished that thought. Ted had grabbed her arm, pulled her back, and kissed her so avidly, taken her so suddenly off her guard, that for the first time in her life she actually felt as if her knees could buckle from underneath her.
"Yeah," Ted said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm going to need a few more minutes…"
