Most Beautiful Woman in London
I beamed at the happy couples swaying around on the dance floor. The happiness was nearly palpable inside the outdoor tent. I stood in the back, watching the marvelously colored robes blur by through an opening in the crowd. The drapes that made up the tent let in the perfect amount of moonlight, just enough to bask everyone in a silvery glow.
I couldn't help but swoon at the romanticism of it all. To be married on New Year's Eve has been my dream since I found French bridal catalogs in my grandmere's house when I was five. I was more than slightly jealous of the couple for attaining such a perfect wedding. It had been simply splendid in the way the sun dipped below the horizon just as they vowed their love for eternity. And now, the stars twinkled through the thin material and long stemmed candles alighted the tables. It was far-past gorgeous.
My wrist moved in circles, swirling the champagne around until some of it sloshed out of the flute and onto my hand. I giggled. A magicked bottle floated toward me and refilled my glass. I giggled again, curtseying thankfully to the bottle which surely did not receive the required thanks for its apparent hard work, judging by the red faces of most of the guests.
Yet another cousin swept past me, all red hair and freckles. I wondered briefly if my extended family knew me only as The Non-Redheaded Weasley. After all, I only knew the majority of them by their physical appearances: it's much too hard to keep track of them all. Perhaps Uncle George was right when he told me that it's best to not even try.
I remember trying to prove him wrong by naming all the relatives around me that night. I only managed about twelve. I got stuck on rather frightening, Second-Cousin Berthow. Really though, that was a bit unlucky as I had never even met Berthow prior to that single occasion. I quickly scanned the crowd for him, but I could hardly focus long enough to find, in the sea of redheads, Berthow's distinguishing feature: unnaturally large teeth.
Instead of Berthow, I saw a few distant aunts in a corner. I accidentally made eye contact with one, and she quickly waved me over. I learned a young age that nearly all of my Weasley women relatives are completely batty: I'm forever thankful that all of them are relatives by marriage only. I diverted eye contact with her, acting as if I had never seen the beckon, and made a beeline for the punch bowl before realizing that I already had a drink in my hand. As I abruptly turned and headed for the snack table, I became aware that my surviving-Weasley-party skills required some tuning up. My new status as an of-age witch threw my old tactics out the window. The non-alcoholic punch bowl was my go-to at all times necessary; some examples include when asked to dance by anyone of Weasley descent (except for Grandpa because I can't say no to him or Uncle George because he's always a good laugh), when found in a boring conversation about the direction of the Ministry (especially one with Uncle Percy), and most important, whenever James and Fred were being quiet.
My eyes caught a glimpse of the weather outside through an opening in the fabric of the tent. I drew nearer to it, unsure of what I was truly seeing, but sure enough, I realized that a delicate snow had begun to fall silently around us. I tried catch a snowflake, but as I reached my hand out of the tent, I was hit with an icy wind that the Warming Charm kept at bay. I quickly retracted my frozen fingers. The snow reminded me of the countless snowmen I had built with my papa and little Louis and Dominique. Once, during a particularly heavy snowstorm, we constructed an entire Weasley family of snowpeople; when Grandpa Weasley came to visit, he charmed them all to dance around the yard. Papa laughed, stating that it was rather embarrassing that the snowWeasley's danced better than the real ones.
Aunt Ginny zipped by me with a perturbed look on her thin face. I reckoned that she was probably off stopping James from doing something prankworthy of his namesake. I shook my head. The Potter kids were always in and out of trouble.
"Victoire Weasley? Is that you, love?"
I turned to see a friend (or so he thinks) from school. His name is Connor McGladden, and no female in Hogwarts will touch him after the night he got Cecily Grayer drunk and then abandoned her on the Astronomy Tower when he heard a professor coming. He's a dreadful waste of a decent physique and beautiful blue eyes.
"Aren't I lucky to be standing next to the most beautiful woman in London!"
The worst thing about Connor is that he has a completely obnoxious way of assuming that a girl would want to be flattered by someone so repulsively vile.
"The pleasure is all mine, Connor." I said, cringing away from him as I down another flute of champagne. Now I understand how Cecily let herself get completely tossed: It's practically the only way of tolerating him.
He slid closer to me, chuckling. "Of course it is." He picked up my hand, rolling around in his.
"You know, I can't help but notice that you don't seem to have anyone to share a midnight kiss with. I am glad to volunteer my services," he wiggled his eyebrows at me. I hate it when men wiggle their eyebrows.
"She has someone; thanks."
We both turned. Teddy Lupin was leaning against a table, all smiles in his respectable black dress robes. His hair was toned down to its gorgeous natural brown which made his sophisticated ensemble seem completely effortless. He winked at me. I blushed and diverted my eyes.
Connor frowned, and made a low, discontented noise in his throat. "Alright, then. I will see you back at school, beautiful. We'll study for NEWTS together; I know a really private table lodged way in the back of the stacks." He winked, too, leaving a kiss on the back of my hand. My hand itched to reach out and make hard contact with his cheek.
Teddy was chuckling lightly as he strode up beside me. I did not find his amusement entertaining. "Aren't I lucky to be standing next to the most beautiful woman in London!" He mocked, looping his arm around my waist.
"You're hilarious," I muttered dryly, rolling my eyes. Despite my anger, I leaned into him: He smelled clean but with a faint trace of his grandmother's treacle tart.
He laughed again, pulling me closer and pressing a kiss in my hair. He lowered his voice. Teddy Lupin was the master of making my stomach knot and my throat dry with one whisper. "Sorry I'm late. I was on guard with Terry, and we made some arrests."
I know this already; Uncle Harry informed me about the entire situation in full before the wedding started, but it sounded fascinating coming from him.
"Really?" I whispered in wonderment.
He murmured yes while tracing circles with his thumb over my cheek. I asked him to tell me every detail. "Do you remember Roger Davies?" I nodded even though I didn't remember him. "Well, he called in to report that he had witnessed some men cursing each other in the street, so Terry and I decide to just go ourselves instead of disturbing the Hit Wizards." He pauses lazily, taking a long drink of champagne. "We get there, and Davies was raging at these guys about attacking each other in broad daylight, so then they turn on him. We intervened and realized that one of the men was none other than Fabis Marlo. Davies will be in St. Mungo's overnight–they hit him with a jinx to his spine–and Terry got a broken nose, but otherwise, it was a pretty lucky situation."
Luck.. I marveled at his casual words. Fabis Marlo was mentioned in the papers at least once a month for new attacks. He had killed nine men over the past two years and injured countless others. I couldn't believe Teddy and Terry, two Auror trainees, had made it out practically unscathed when seasoned Aurors had fallen to Marlo.
He laughed, slow and rumbling. "You don't have to look so worried, love. Terry and I live for this. We were having a bit of fun, that's all. It just worked in our favor."
I rolled my eyes at his nonchalance but said no more about it. Teddy truly loved being an Auror, despite the variable degrees of danger. It made him feel closer to his mother, feel like he was helping rid the world of the same slime that had killed his parents. Still, I wished that he would have picked a tamer profession, and I let another gulp of champagne calm my knotted stomach.
He took my hand, dragging me to the dance floor soundlessly. Honestly, I was exhausted after the exciting day, and every minute that ticked on made me feel dead on my feet. Teddy felt my reluctance and pulled me into his chest so my weight rested mostly on him. It was much appreciated.
"Since we're having this party, I am assuming that the wedding took place, yes? She didn't let her little thing with men get in the way?" He whispered into my ear, leaving a kiss there. I giggled which was rather rude of me. My second cousin, Isabella, had left three previous weddings, claiming some reason that would, in the future, make her fiancee leave her. (Heath had aspirations of moving out of England while she did not. Bryant didn't enjoy celebrating holidays while she did. Michael wanted to have seven kids while she absolutely did not.)
"The wedding went perfectly," I whispered back, dotting the end of the sentence with a firm air of finality. I barely knew Isabella, but for some reason, I was really rooting for her. I suppose I saw a bit of myself in her: I had a nagging fear that I will end up alone forever.
He smiled against my forehead, "A bit defensive about it, aren't you?"
I murmured a yes, but otherwise kept quiet. I wasn't big on sharing my fears out loud. The good thing about Teddy was that he already knew them all.
"Hey, Vee?" He lifted my chin up just as loud cheers erupted throughout the tent. He crushed his lips to mine. I pulled my arms tighter around his neck to deepen the kiss. He didn't seem to mind. "Happy New Year to you, too." He smirked, his voice husky and his lips a little red.
"Don't be so smug," I replied cheekily. "Or maybe I'll make leaving guys my thing, too."
He let out a tortured groan, slow and guttural, pulling me closer to him so that our lips nearly touched, daring me to not kiss him again. I giggled loudly, and he broke into an easy grin. "You're completely sloshed."
"Am not, Teddy," I whispered against his lips. "You're the one that can't keep his hands off me."
He leered, wanting to prove it, so he moved his lips near my ear, leaving a small trail of wide, open-mouthed kisses there. "When we get married, Vee, it's going to be like this, yes?"
I tried to ignore his question, knowing he was simply trying to get a rise out of me, but we both knew the truth. "Well, I suppose you could change your hair color if you wanted, but yes, pretty much."
And I smiled, beaming as he kissed my nose. "And more alcohol, too, please. I rather like this side of you, and, also, your distant cousins frighten me." He winked, and I rolled my eyes at him, albeit a tad sloppier than usual.
"Only if you tell me I'm the most beautiful woman in London for the rest of my life," I whispered, nibbling on his bottom lip. His brow furrowed as if angry at me before twirling us clearly in the direction opposite the dance floor.
He grabbed my hand as we reached the edge, pulling me towards my table where my things laid. As he helped me into my cloak, he whispered, "Only if I can tell you how lucky I am to be standing next to you, too."
That's the night I knew I was unconditionally in love with Teddy Lupin.