Why, oh, why, did it have to be Victoire? Stupid schoolboy crush-
Albus Potter - Al to everybody but his father - forced himself to tear his eyes away from Victoire. She was six years older than him, for one, and although that wasn't a whole lot to adults, it seemed like a lot for a sixteen-year-old boy. That wasn't even the extent of the problem - the fact that they were cousins was the main problem. He dropped his head into his hands, sighing as he felt somebody sit down next to him. He didn't really want company.
"Are you okay?" a soft voice asked him, and he looked up to see Victoire's face only inches from his own. She was so tempting, her blue-eyed innocence right in front of him, as beautiful as a model in a magazine.
He shrugged, not saying anything, and resigned himself to simply pining after her like one of her numerous other fanboys.
Stupid Veela beauty.
