Disclaimer: It all still belongs to JK Rowling, unfortunately.

A/N: Well, I meant to have this up last night, but various things got in the way - mainly the fact that I decided I didn't like the way I had originally planned for it to go, and rethought it all, and the fact that I've not been too well the last few days.

Thanks to tecumseh dean, ms wolf, EllenLaura, Lily Ann Rose, and arwenjanelilylyra for the latest lot of reviews. I'm really sorry, I've been very neglectful about replying to them, I'll be better next time, I promise!

This is the penultimate chapter. That's right. The next one will be the last. No epilogues. Hopefully up tomorrow, or maybe, if I really get my writing gloves on, later tonight.

Anyhow, enjoy!

Spring turned into summer, and August was as hot as April had been wet.

Somehow, life, for Victoire, went on. Her job was still as demanding as ever, but she was doing well, and as time went by, the pain caused by Teddy grew less.

She could not help hearing news of him occasionally; he no longer appeared at family gatherings, but Uncle Harry kept in touch with him, and she knew that some of her other relatives did too. Occasionally, his name would be thoughtlessly mentioned in her presence, and there was always an awkward pause that followed, while Victoire tried to pretend that she hadn't noticed.

Lily had gone round looking as though the world had come to an end when she had come home for the summer holidays, and after she got over that, she kept absentmindedly mentioning Teddy while Victoire was there, before someone kicked her, or trod on her foot. It was irritating, but Victoire tried to tell herself that it was nothing more than irritating.

She knew, therefore, that, as Persis had said, Teddy and Zoë were not making a go of it. As far as the world was concerned, the baby Zoë had lost was Teddy's, and Victoire suspected that they were still in touch, but they were certainly not a couple. Zoë got a job doing something dragon-related up in the Hebrides, and disappeared from Victoire's horizon.

She knew, too, when Teddy decided that he too had had enough of London, and took off to the Russian Far East as part of a Demiguise tracking expedition. And she was aware that Uncle Harry was relieved about this; he thought it would be good for Teddy. She would have agreed, if she had ever thought about Teddy any more. She even knew when he was departing, because the Potters went to see him off, and Lily cried for a day afterwards.

But with Teddy safely out of the country, Victoire could slowly but surely move on with her life. She wasn't sure if it would ever entirely stop hurting, but after all, the world had not ended because one young man turned out not to be worth the feelings she had spent on him.

So she made the most of the summer, and went to France with her family to visit her Delacour grandparents, and then to Greece with Tamsyn and some of her other friends from school. The Weasley skin was not made for hot sun, so she did not come back with much of a tan, but it felt as though the sun had somehow eased some of the aching wounds. They still hurt, but the poison had gone.

And summer turned into autumn, and October came, with cold winds and grey skies, and she realised that it was almost a year since Teddy had started the Dragon Rehabilitaion Programme on which he had met Zoë Lester.

For the first time, she found that she could think of Teddy. Think of him properly, without her mind exploding with anger and pain, and shutting the thought down of its own accord, like one of the Muggle electric devices Grandad Weasley loved so much, overheating and switching off with a sudden spark and a smell of burning.

She still had feelings for him. She had always known that she could never completely leave those feelings behind, she thought, remembering a certain conversation with Tamsyn, the night after Victoire had been promoted, and there had been that awful argument with Teddy.

Then she remembered how that night had ended, and tears burned in her eyes. It was almost impossible to reconcile the Teddy she remembered from that night, with the Teddy she had created in her head since the terrible conversation with Melanie Lesterback in April. Even the Teddy of earlier in the evening, spitting foul insults at her, was not the one she had held in her mind for the last six months. He had been angry, but he had cared. That was what had made him angry. And they had needed each other; needed each other desperately. The Teddy she had been thinking of recently had not needed her. For a moment, the tiniest needle of doubt entered her mind; who was the Teddy who had been there since April? Was he simply a creation of her mind? Had he needed her after all?

But then she realised that she was being stupid and naïve. On that night in January, when Teddy had bought her white roses, and had seemed to make everything right again, Zoë Lester had already been pregnant.

She was sent on an important diplomatic visit to Paris in November; she was young, and low down in the department to be included on an important trip, but they took her as an interpreter, because she spoke the language. She managed to make herself so useful on the trip that she was given more and more responsibility, and became one of the more influential people in the office.

That Christmas was one of the more difficult Christmases she had experienced. Last year, he had been there. Christmas was a big time for the extended Weasley family. Of course, not everybody could be there every years; some Christmases Victoire's family spent in France with the Delacours, and the others mostly had other branches of the family too, who could not be ignored. But it was always a big gathering, and very often had people who were not strictly part of the family there as well. Teddy and his grandmother always joined them.

This year, Andromeda was there, because they could hardly not invite her, but Teddy was not. He was still in Siberia, apparently, although how they could still track Demiguises in all the snow that must be there right now, Victoire could not imagine. Andromeda knew, of course, that Teddy and Victoire had split up, but she did not know the details, and was inclined to be cold to Victoire. Victoire accepted this as gracefully as she could, and pretended not to care, but in truth it made her want to cry; she was fond of the old woman who had lost her whole family except for Teddy, and had thrown her heart and soul into caring for her orphaned grandson. And Andromeda had liked her, before; had approved of her, because she knew her own mind, and went out and did the things she wanted to do.

But really, if she was honest, what hurt most was simply that Teddy was not there, and the fact that that still hurt made her angry with herself.

Everything about Christmas at the Burrow reminded her of him. Right from the days when he would not allow her to play with his new toys, and got furious with her if she so much as touched a single one of his presents, because he was convinced that she would break it (and she had broken a remarkable number of his toys, she thought wryly), he had always been there. She used to take such trouble over his presents; it took her twice as long to choose his as it did anyone else's, and three times as long to wrap it. He had always received it with the same casual grin, and offhand thanks.

She remembered the days when she and Dominique used to decorate the tree together. They would take such care over getting every decoration in precisely the right place, and they were always so proud when they were finished. And when Teddy came into the room, she would always ask him what he thought of it, even though she knew what the answer would be. And there was always some criticism: "It's a bit bright, isn't it?" "There's too much tinsel." "I like them better without so many decorations on." And every year, without fail, Victoire was reduced to tears over it, and Teddy was told off for not being 'nice.'

Then she remembered the year, the Christmas she was thirteen years old, when it changed. It had been three years since she had had Christmas at the Burrow; the previous two years they had gone to France. And she and Dom had been decorating the tree, and they had not heard Teddy come into the room, and he had stood and watched them for a while before they were aware that he was there.

Probably, her taste had improved in the years between ten and thirteen. She remembered that, for the first time, she had been a bit dismayed by some of the glitzy things Dominique wanted to hang on the tree. She had had to be very firm with her sister, and had insisted on a more minimal, colour co-ordinated effect.

And suddenly, just as they were putting the finishing touches Dom had turned around and said "Teddy!" in tones of surprise. Victoire had almost knocked a bauble off the tree as she spun round. It was Teddy, but she had been going through her tongue-tied phase with him at the time, getting embarrassed as soon as he came anywhere near her, so she had simply stared at him, wishing that she had been found doing something more sophisticated than decorating a Christmas tree with her little sister.

He had grinned at them, a bit sheepishly.

"It looks good," he had told them, and then, looking at their surprised faces, "Honestly, it does. D'you want a hand putting that up?"

Victoire had been stretching to put the star on the top branch, but her arms were not long enough. Wordlessly, she had handed it over and moved out of the way, and he had twisted the little wire around the branch and stood back to admire it.

"Nice," he had said appreciatively.

"Thanks," she had said, shyly, but he had just grinned at her, and wandered out of the room.

She thought that might have been the moment she actually fell in love with Teddy Lupin.

In January, one of the new wizards in the department asked her if she'd like to go for dinner with him one evening. Victoire hadn't known him before he came to work at the Ministry, because he had been educated abroad somewhere, but she knew that he was a keen young man, who was highly efficient at his job, and dressed in crisp robes, and did everything very quickly. He was also quite good-looking, although his slim build, neat fair hair and blue eyes could not have been more different from the look Teddy usually wore. He had a shrewd, sharp expression in his eyes, but a nice smile, and he was rumoured to be next in line for a quick promotion.

All the same, her first instinct was to refuse. She had expected, after Teddy, that there would never be anyone else; that romance was dead for her. Nobody could replace the man she thought she had known. So she told Christopher Mallory that unfortunately, she was busy with work.

But afterwards, when she thought it through, she realised that she was being irrational. She couldn't spend her life mourning for Teddy. Why shouldn't there be someone else? Christopher was a perfectly nice man, and probably much better suited to her than Teddy ever had been. After all, what had she and Teddy ever had in common? She didn't expect to find love with Christopher Mallory, but there was no harm in the odd date, was there?

So she went up to him the next day, and told him that although she was busy in the evenings, she could manage lunch on Saturday, if that would be all right.

It would be more than all right. His face lit up, and they arranged to meet at half past twelve, in a restaurant Christopher knew, and said was excellent.

Somehow, they got into the habit of regular dates. Christopher was good company; he was clever, and kind, and listened attentively to whatever she said, and they could talk intelligently about things that meant something to both of them.

She did notice, though, after a few weeks, that they always seemed to have very serious conversations. They talked about work, or international affairs (which, after all, was work), or cultural things, like music and art. Of course, she had talked about those things with Teddy too (although, she reminded herself, he had never been very interested in her work), but with Christopher, there were none of those funny, impulsive moments, and they never simply talked nonsense. He was always saying things that made her smile with pleasure, but he never said anything that made her lose her careful poise and dissolve into helpless giggles. And she would feel silly saying to Christopher some of the things she would have said to Teddy.

Also, he insisted on paying for everything every time, which grated on her feminist principles. They did the same job; they were earning exactly the same wage. There was no reason at all for him to pay every time, and it made her feel helpless and childlike, which was irritating. She had always split things with Teddy; indeed, she had often paid for everything herself.

But that was because Teddy never had any money, because he could not be bothered to get a job, she reminded herself. Nobody was perfect, and the little irritations were nothing compared to what she had had to put up with when she was with Teddy. She and Christopher were still feeling their way, that was all. When she knew him a bit better, she would explain how she felt, and he was sure to understand.

They took things slowly. She was perfectly upfront with him, and said that she had recently broken up with a long term boyfriend, and didn't want to rush into anything, and he was very nice about it. But when they had been going out about a month, she finally spent the night with him at his house.

He was, she realised, the only person she had ever had sex with except for Teddy. That was a little sad, really. She tried not to make comparisons, but it was impossible not to. It was… nice, but there wasn't the passion there had always been with Teddy. Still, it was their first time; maybe the passion would come.

It didn't, and she never did get round to having the conversation about money, but other than that, everything was progressing nicely. It was not nearly such a stressful relationship as the one with Teddy had been, and although she was doubtful about it lasting forever, it was perfectly good for the time being.

Teddy came back to England in March; she knew, because Dominique told her, which made her suspicious that her sister had in fact been keeping in touch with him. She was pleased, though, that his return produced nothing more in her than a faint flicker of dismay. To Dom, she brushed it off.

Dominique looked thoughtfully at her.

"Don't try and pretend you don't care, Vic."

Victoire looked at her in surprise.

"I don't care. Why should I? I've got Chris, and Teddy's probably found some nice Russian girl to console himself with by now…"

"He hasn't," said Dominique brusquely, reinforcing Victoire's impression that Dominique hadn't been quite as loyal as a sister ought to have been.

"Well, he should have done," she answered shortly.

"You're going to have to see him some time," Dominique pointed out, ignoring Victoire's comment.

Vic shrugged.

"So what? It's been nearly a year now. I think we can deal with it"

In the end, though, she did not run into him immediately.

He sent her a letter, but she threw it away without opening it. And then felt stupid, because she'd persuaded herself that the whole thing meant nothing to her anymore, which meant behaving in a grown up, dignified way, not childishly destroying the letters he sent her.

He obviously got the hint, though, because he didn't try again.

In April, Chris got promoted, putting him a level above her, and Victoire spent her lunch hour in the toilets, trying to persuade herself that she was not jealous.

After work, when she had relieved her feelings slightly by throwing a glass at the opposite wall, she realised that all her persuasion had not worked. She was jealous as hell.

And she had every right to be, she thought furiously. She had been there longer than he had; before Chris had come along, she had been the bright young thing on track for a great career. What did he have that she did not? Angry tears welled up in her eyes, just as she realised that she was reacting no more graciously than Teddy had, more than a year ago, when it was her who was getting promotion.

That was different, she told herself. Teddy had not been passed up in favour of her, the way she had for Chris; that was what was getting to her. It was not the same thing.

But a nasty little voice inside her told that it was exactly the same thing. So she pulled herself together, forced a smile onto her face, and went round to see him.

It didn't go quite as she'd planned.

He let her in, looking worried, and greeted her with "Victoire. We need to talk."

She stared at him in blank surprise. She was pretty sure that nothing good had ever followed those words.

"What about?" she asked calmly.

"Well… I'm not sure this is going to work out."

Where had this come from? She had thought things were going pretty well herself.

"It's this job," he explained, "I mean, you know my career's very important to me. I just feel like, with the promotion and everything, I need to be able to concentrate on work, and not have distractions..."

Right. So she was a distraction?

"Well, my career's very important to me too," she pointed out, "I'd have thought we could manage to balance both."

He shook his head.

"You don't understand. I don't want to hang around where I am for my whole life. This promotion's just the first step. I need to be able to throw myself into it, and not think about anything else. My whole future depends on this job. I have to put it first, and that's not fair on you. You have to have someone who's going to put you first. You deserve that, and I can't give it to you. Not just now."

It all sounded very nice and reasonable, she thought, and just a tad too well thought out and rehearsed. She was aware of a mist of anger clouding her mind. Who exactly did he think he was, to speak to her like that? To speak as if he was the only one of them who cared about his work and his future? As if her career was somehow less important than his? How dare he tell her that she did not understand?

She swallowed hard, and kept the anger under control. They had to stay friends. They had to work together.

"Right," she said in a bright, false voice, "Well, that's that then, isn't it? I understand. If you feel like that, there's not much point in it, is there?"

"I'm sorry, Victoire."

"It's all right."

And she was astonished to find that, after the first moments, it was. Shouldn't you feel more upset than this, she thought, as she made her way home, after being dumped? All she felt were residual bits of anger at his cool condescension. They had said goodbye in a perfectly dignified way. It was a clean break. Nothing like the one with Teddy.

Tamsyn echoed this later, when she had come over at Victoire's summons.

"You seem surprisingly okay about it," she commented.

Victoire shrugged.

"You were never really into him, were you?" Tamsyn went on.

"I never thought it would last forever, if that's what you mean."

"Maybe he picked that up," her friend suggested, "Maybe he realised that this didn't mean much to you, and that's why he ditched you."

Victoire thought about this.

"No, I don't think so," she said eventually, "I don't think he ever really knew how I felt. He just decided that he couldn't have anything that might take his concentration away from his work for a few minutes a day. So I had to go." Her voice held traces of bitterness.

Tamsyn looked thoughtfully at her.

"Well… you should be able to understand that, shouldn't you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Victoire asked sharply.

Tamsyn shrugged.

"Come on, Vic. I don't know anyone as obsessed by work as you…"

"I'm not obsessed by work!" Victoire protested, "Just because my career means a lot to me…"

"Chris would probably say the same thing. Be honest with yourself, Vic. If it's a choice between work, and some other commitment, work always comes first. It always has. You were always going on about how Teddy didn't understand how important it is to you…" she broke off, wondering if, even now, mentioning Teddy was a mistake.

"Don't try and compare this to me and Teddy. Teddy didn't understand my work. He didn't understand ambition. I do. That's the difference. I could have understood when Chris needed to work, and didn't have time for me. There would have been times when it was the other way round. But he couldn't be bothered to even try. And that wasn't why me and Teddy broke up; you know that."

"Yes, I know. It was different. All I'm saying is that you do have a tendency to let work take over everything, and to think that getting on in your career is the most important thing in the world…"

"Maybe it is, to me," Victoire said crossly.

"Is it? More important than your friends and family? More important than love? More important than being happy? Because if so, that's a bit sad, Vic…"

"I didn't mean that. You know I didn't."

But after Tamsyn had gone, she sat for a long time before going to bed, thinking about her friend's words. Was it true? She had to admit that she had given a lot of her energy to her work in the last couple of years. This feeling that she was feeling now; of being somehow sidelined; unimportant; inferior; a distraction from the important things in life; was that how she had made Teddy feel? Had she put her job ahead of her relationship?

She knew that she had. It had seemed to make sense at the time, but now she was looking at it from the other side, it looked shallow and uncaring. A very honest part of herself acknowledged that what had happened between her and Teddy had been, in fact, partly her own fault. She had driven him away; driven him to Zoë Lester.

She sighed. What a mess it had all turned out.