Victoire was fairly sure she was still drunk. She hadn't slept, only laid in bed after Teddy had walked her home riding a wave of elation and enjoying the buzz of alcohol, recounting the night before over and over.

Her parents had not been concerned when Ted had arrived at the family tent the night before. Victoire had even overheard her mother state that she was happy Ted would be looking out for her in the busy crowd. She'd had a small stab of guilt at that one, her parents would not have been as relieved if they knew how she and Ted had advanced their relationship over the last five weeks. Af fifteen she was responsible enough that she could roam the VIP campsite with her oldest friend - she gave her parents good grades, rarely found herself wrapped in trouble. Victoire had earnt her freedom.

They'd found themselves in the VIP lounge, surrounded by celebrities and sporting heroes. Through Ginny Ted had been a regular at Quidditch events and recognised by many who stopped to talk to them. She perched next to Teddy, flattered by the attention and casualness of it all. It was when the seeker from the Holyhead Harpies offered her a glass of Champagne that she had looked to Ted for his opinion. She was still two years underage, but didn't want to show her youth in the midst of the wizarding elite. Ted had shrugged, giving her a 'if you're up for it' look and taking a glass himself.

That had been the start of a wild and crazy night.

This was the start of an awful morning.

Her mother was still screaming in french at her - she'd lost track a while back, her mother was using words not even she knew but didn't dare ask what the meaning was. Her father looked pale, he kept staring at the copy of the Daily Prophet and shaking his head. Bill would occasionally glance in her direction and immediately avert his eyes.

Victoire knew she was in deep trouble when her own father couldn't even look at her.

"You're fifteen, Victoire." he finally managed. "How did you even get alcohol? Did Ted buy it for you?"

She shook her head quickly. "No, daddy." (She was appealing to his soft side. She wasn't sure how this would play out.) "We were in the VIP lounge and everyone just kept giving champagne to us."

Her mother paused at that. Victoire liked to think she was secretly proud of her daughters drink of choice. After all, if you were going to get sloshed, do it the french way.

Her father took over the lecture at that point, not realising he was repeating what his wife had just screamed in french. Words like 'irresponsible' and 'underage' were repeated time again. It was only when he'd stood from the table, pocketed his wand and said "I'm going to talk to Ted." that Victoire began to panic.

"You're what?"

"Ted. I'm going to talk to him." Bill was already leaving the tent, a murderous calm in his eyes.

Victoire stumbled after him. Her legs were not impressed at having to move so suddenly and far, and she barely managed to catch him up. Navigating the tent strings of the neighbouring tents she said "you're not going to hurt him are you?" She could see the Potters tent only four plots down.

"I just want to talk to him."

Three plots. She desperately tried to think of a way to get Ted out of this, tell her father it had all been her fault (which, she reflected, it mostly had been.) but drew a blank.

Two plots. She was exhausted, she wanted to sleep now that the excitement of the previous night had disappeared. She noticed her father was still clutching the copy of the Daily Prophet, now crumpled and dirty in his palm.

Bill Weasley tore open the Potter's tent flap and stepped inside. "Ted home?" he demanded.

He needn't have have asked. Ted was sat at the kitchen table getting what appeared to be a similar talk from his Godfather and Ginny. She tried to shoot him an apologetic look, but his eyes were locked with her fathers. His normal, electric blue hair had turned an ugly ill-looking gray. Ted had the sense to look worried.

Harry was rubbing his glasses on his shirt looking out of his depth. "Got the paper then Bill?" he asked.

Victoires father didn't respond, only advanced towards the kitchen table, smoothing out the paper as he did so. "'Mr and Mrs Bill Weasley," he read, "might like to know that their beautiful, blonde daughter Victoire seems to be attracted to any dark corner where Master Lupin happens to be lurking.' Making a habit of pulling young girls into dark corners Ted?"

Teddy didn't want to point out that Victoire was indeed only one year younger than him, and therefore not exactly susceptible to his advances simply because he was an older man. He further refrained from mentioning that Victoire had been the one to pull him into dark corners, and he had objected to the act like a gentleman...until his lips had become otherwise occupied.

The only thing Ted could think to reply was "hrng…" Well done, he congratulated himself.

Thankfully, Harry decided to intervene. He stood between Bill and his godson, hands wide, using his finest 'Auror in a hostage situation' techniques. "We were just discussing with Teddy the events of last night and how..." he glanced back at his wife for confirmation, "inappropriate their behaviour was."

Ginny nodded. "Calm down Bill, it's just Rita Skeeter causing drama. It's all just slander and rumours."

"That," Bill replied, however somewhat more softly to his sister. "Is not the point. Your boy got my daughter drunk." When neither of the parents said anything, he added "she's fifteen!"

Ginny seemed unaffected by this. "We were getting pissed from dads homebrew scrumpy long before we graduated Hogwarts, Bill. Teddy was there to look after her."

The wave of relief Ted had felt at Ginny's defense of his behaviour was quickly harpooned when she reminded Bill Teddy had been 'looking after' his daughter. He was sure Bill was imagining the same thing he was.

"Teddy did look after me Daddy!" Victoire agreed. "When this dirty old man was trying to chat me up, Teddy was right there!"

It was true. When the aging drummer of the Rumpled Snorkacks had sidled up her, pressed a glass of firewhiskey into her hand and slung his arm around her shoulder and asked if she'd enjoyed the show that night, Ted had swiftly abandoned his discussion about Quidditch and pressed his lips into hers. Victoire had liked to think of it as Teddy claiming his territory. When she hadn't thrown him off in disgust the drummer had removed his hand and abandoned his quest.

It had been the first time Teddy had kissed her in public.

"You wouldn't have been in that situation if Teddy hadn't dragged you into a bar." Bill retorted.

He had a point, except that it hadn't been Ted that suggested the idea. He had wanted to attend the post-game review and discuss tactical strategies with the players, but Victoire had had enough quidditch talk for one day. She wanted to have fun and enjoy the company of her boyfriend. The Bent-Winged Snitches were playing a private gig in the VIP lounge so she had smiled and pressed her hips against him and Ted had been more than happy to comply.

"You're right," Ted spoke in what he hoped was a confident, grown up tone. "I'm sorry Bill, we should have discussed it with you first. It's entirely my fault."

Her father wasn't convinced. Ted had always had respect for Bill Weasley. He had always thought it had been mutual, but now he was reduced from 'loved member of the extended family' to 'boy dating my daughter'. He wasn't sure he enjoyed the shift in character.

"I shouldn't have to hear about my daughters romances on the front page of the paper," he moaned to no-one in particular.

"Amen to that." Harry agreed.

The pressure seemed to have been lifted somewhat. They were told, under no circumstances, that they were not to leave the tents alone and were absolutely not to drink without supervision. Both agreed, although Victoire begrudgingly. Ted felt there was no need for it, he was never drinking again.

Only after Bill had left, his daughter trailing behind him, did Harry sink into the chair opposite Ted. He looked uncomfortable, and gave Ginny a significant look. She left.

"Look," his godfather began, in that 'i'm trying to be your parent' tone used only for special occasions. "I don't mind you being sexually active-"

Ted spluttered.

"-but when it's plastered all over the damn Prophet-"

"No." Ted cut in. "No, no, no. There's no sex."

"Oh thank God" he heard Ginny mutter from the next room.

Harry appeared as relieved as she sounded, but persisted. "Please remember who it is you're fooling around with, Ted. Victoire's your oldest friend, you don't want to ruin a friendship that important-"

For the second time, Ted cut him off. "We're not just 'fooling around'." He raised his voice so Ginny could hear "and there's no sex. We're serious. Besides, you hypocrites, you started dating at the same age as us."

Harry didn't have a response for that. He simply shrugged lamely. "I'm just saying some girls are for the long-haul." He looked towards the room his wife had escaped to and smiled.

Ted knew that. It had never occurred to him that Victoire wasn't in it for life. Unease prickled in his stomach, and it wasn't just the remaining firewhiskey working its way through his system. He had a sudden need to talk to Victoire and reassure himself that it wasn't just fun they were having, that they were both serious and that he wasn't going to push away his best friend.

Everything else, the illness, the exhaustion was pushed aside. How in the hell was he going to get Victoire alone?