A/N: (Characters belong to Her Majesty Jo Rowling) Fluffy and short. Written because I, along with the rest of the fandom, are all having Tedoire feels. Enjoy
Teddy Lupin couldn't remember the first time he ever laid eyes on Victoire Weasley. He was sure it was when he was young, constantly being over at his uncle's house. Victoire and her parents had probably always been there too, visiting. But he remembered the first time he noticed her. Yeah, they had played together as children countless times but the first time he noticed her… Well that was something he preferred not to discuss.
Teddy was seventeen and Victoire was fourteen years old and they had grown close over those years in each other's company, being the oldest of all their cousins. (Teddy wasn't actually a cousin but Uncle Harry always told him he may as well be – he was part of the family.) Teddy and Victoire had gone outside to play two-player Quidditch, which, admittedly was quite un-extraordinary under normal circumstances. But the events that took place before the conventionally un-extraordinary game would be seared into Teddy's mind for as long as he lived – unbeknownst to him at the time.
"Ready?" Teddy asked Victoire.
"Yeah, hold on a minute I've got to get the brooms," she replied, rooting through the collection of wellingtons, buckets, spades and other un-assorted household items piled in the broom cupboard.
Her long, silvery hair flowed over her shoulder and her face was set in a determined frown, lifting various objects up and tossing them over to the other side of the closet. "Jesus, you'd think they'd keep the broomsticks standing or something," she muttered. "They must be buried under all this crap. The twigs are gonna be all bent and the balance will be off."
"I doubt they care much – I bet they've got loads from Uncle Harry's Quidditch days."
"Fair point," she agreed, lifting herself off her hunkers and frowning into the closet. "But on a more relevant note, they're not here."
"Strange." Teddy walked forward and cast a glance around the unusually large broom closet. "Well, come on: we'll ask Auntie Ginny," he told her and grabbed her forearm to lead her away.
He could hear her laughing behind him.
"Ted – uh, you're hair!"
"What?" he demanded and immediately took both hands up to his hair. "What's wrong with it? Oh, god it's not dreadlocks is it?"
"No – Ted – it's orange."
Blood rushed to his face and his hair changed abruptly from orange to bright red. "No it isn't."
"But it was just-"
"AUNT GINNY!" he all but shouted, as she pranced into view, having been dancing along to Celestina Warbeck. She was wearing an apron with a man's muscular chest printed on the front, a Hippogriff tattoo drawn on by Harry.
"Oh, Merlin, I really am my mother. Don't tell Harry." She begged them in response to their seeing her dancing to, of all people, Celestina Warbeck.
Teddy and Victoire both laughed appreciatively. "Our lips are sealed," promised Teddy, with a grin.
"Edward Lupin, I wouldn't trust you with the house-elf's socks," she told him, laughing. "Anyway, what did you want, dear?" It was common knowledge in the Potter household that whenever Ginny used motherly slurs she was being entirely sarcastic.
Teddy snorted and proceeded to ask: "Where do you keep the brooms?"
"Planning on doing a bit of a clean up, are we?" joked Harry as he entered the room. He danced sloppily over to Ginny and grabbed her waste to pull her in for a kiss. It lasted just long enough so that Teddy and Victoire were suitably embarrassed to be in the same room as their snogging relations.
"Red's a lovely colour for you Ted," joked Harry gazing at his hair as he broke away from his wife.
"Shit," he murmured and smoothed his hands through his hair, trying to replace the bright red with the cool blue he preferred.
Victoire snickered away to herself on the other side of the room. "To answer your question, Uncle Harry, no, we were not intending on doing a clean-up. We were actually just wondering where the brooms were so we could play two-player Quidditch outside." She glanced over to Teddy, smirking, whose hair was a vibrant shade of purple. She laughed openly at him.
"Did you happen to look in the broom closet?"
"Of course we did but they're not there."
Ginny turned to her husband, a confused look on her face.
He, in turn, turned to her. With a resigned look they both sighed "James." The pair turned back to Teddy and Victoire and told them to "Seek our eldest son, for the treasures you desire."
The pair left the room together and, as they were leaving, spotted Harry and Ginny swaying to the beat of the music in each other's arms, grinning widely.
"So I had this idea – for your hair." Victoire informed Teddy coyly.
"Oh, yeah?" he invited her, grinning
"Well, I think I can speak on behalf of everybody when I say, we would all love a colour chart depicting your emotions depending on the colour of your hair."
He snorted. "Dream on."
"Oh, c'mon. At least consider it."
He laughed disbelievingly. "Look Viccy, there is no way in hell I would ever in a million years do something as stupid as that! It's alright for you – you can hide your emotions: your bloody hair doesn't change colour when you're happy or sad or whatever. Now why – when no one knows what the different colours mean, and I can hide my emotions – would I hand someone the secrets of my soul?" He smiled as if he had won the argument, which he probably had, but Victoire wasn't about to let something like this go so easily.
"Okay, first of all: don't call me Viccy, I hate that-"
"No you don't," he interrupted. "Go on," he invited her to proceed and smirked.
She bore a confused look on her face for a few seconds before continuing: "Second of all: we can all guess anyway. You've got a couple of regular colours, like red, which means you're embarrassed, and orange-" His hair turned bright red and she smirked, "Means that you think someone is pretty."
He allowed a few seconds for those words to sink in. "Oh does it now? You're fairly up yourself, Viccy."
"But you can't help that one," she mused. "Your hair turns orange regardless of whether you consciously accept that you think the person Is pretty."
He stared at her.
"Oh." Was all he could say. He was dumbfounded that she had gotten it so spot-on. They kept walking. His hair was a furious shade of red as they made their way to James's room.
"So I was right and you think I'm pretty," teased Victoire before they reached the door of James's room.
He grinned charmingly, but scoffed. "As if, Weasley."
"Alright, Lupin, can I try something?"
"I have this sneaking suspicion you're going to try it regardless of what I say." He told her, amused and staring at the carpet as he walked it.
Before he could react he felt her warm hands on his neck and she was pulling him down into a kiss. He could almost feel his hair turn orange, and he froze for a second before pulling his hands up to her face and kissing her back.
She broke off for a second to say: "Guess you do kinda find me pretty, hm?"
Teddy smiled against her mouth. "Eh maybe little bit, I'll give you that."
"You're unbelievable."
"An un-believably good kisser."
"Shut up, Ted."
He obliged by bringing his lips to hers again.
James opened the door. "Oh, bloody hell." The door was slammed shut in their faces.
A/N: Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed.