"...How is it that the last time I was at one of these things I was attacked by Death Eaters, and yet this World Cup has far surpassed it in drama?"

Harry smoothed the Prophet on the table, Rita Skeeter's World Cup coverage open on the last page. Ginny was shaking her head in anger, a scowl on her face. "That bloody woman!"

Ted held his head in his hands. He always wondered if one day his name would be mentioned in the paper, but he had hoped it had been for something much, much cooler than just snogging his girlfriend at what he had thought was a private event. He guessed an event with thousands of other people present couldn't possibly be considered private, but it wasn't thousands who had seen him - just one nosey bitch who wouldn't leave his romantic life alone.

"What the actual hell?" Ted snapped at no-one in particular. "There were actual real celebrities at that thing, what fascination does she have with our family?"

Harry smiled at Ted's disbelief that they were considered celebrities. His godson had always seen Harry as normal -boring even, in a parental sort of way- and Harry liked it that way. The first time he had sat down to explain his role in the war to five-year-old Teddy the boy had looked at him sideways, skeptically, and proclaimed "they probably shouldn't have given you a chocolate frog card for that."

Harry liked it that way. Ted had never seen him as the chosen one, or special, just as Harry.

Ted's head was throbbing. At least this time, he thought, they hadn't been caught drinking or behaving inappropriately. Perhaps that would be in the next days Prophet, and Rita Skeeter was just slowly torturing him?

"She's evil!" Ginny hissed. Ted had never seen her this angry before, at least not off the Quidditch pitch. "It's one thing to gossip about adults, but to torment the kids…"

She was physically shaking with rage. She had always been protective of her children, and Ted felt lucky to be counted among them. He tried to imagine how his parents would react in the same situation, but his mind drew a blank. He suspected the only reason he was getting coverage in the press was because of his relationship to Harry. Would he even be in this situation if his parents were still alive?

"She never did care if there were children involved," Harry reminded her.

A thought occurred to Ted with a stab of fear. "Will Bill be mad? I keep getting Vic dragged into this. He's never going to let me see her again."

The adults glanced at each other, which wasn't helping his concern. Had they outright denied it, Ted wouldn't be so worried. Their silence spoke volumes.

"I'll talk to him," Ginny reassured him. "Bill will come around."

Ted felt suddenly worried that the night before was going to come back and haunt him. As it had been the last night in the camp the young children had been allowed to attend a bonfire and fireworks with minimal supervision. That is, the supervision had been Ted. Whilst the children had joined the crowd Ted had dragged Victoire to one side, laid out his coat and enjoyed their solitude, still within view of the kids.

But not so close that he had neglected the romance. He pulled a bottle of Champagne (charmed so the label read sparkling lemonade) and produced two mugs borrowed from the tent.

"Classy," she had observed, and they toasted the night.

The champagne had mostly gone to waste, both so worried about being seen and making the headlines again to enjoy it too much and the drink had been poured away after only two mugs each, the bottle buried under a pile of sticks in the sand.

But they had talked, honestly and without an audience, for the first time in days. Ted almost enjoyed being in view of the children because it had meant they were forced to connect for the first time in weeks through talking and not just satisfying their hormones. They had agreed, both enthusiastically, that they were not just fooling around. This was feelings and connection and…

Well, of course. But it was still too early for them both. He loved Victoire, but he needed time to figure out the nature of that love. And they had time: years of it, decades, he hoped. They would figure it out, he knew, and it would take some time to convince her family and his of the same.

As they laid back on his coat, her fingers in his hair, a little tipsy off the expensive champagne Ted hadn't hesitated to say "I'm going to marry you one day."

She laughed, but more from the shock of it. Victoire hadn't had an answer for that and Ted hadn't needed one. They watched the fireworks.

As far as he knew the sickles he had bribed the children with to keep quiet had been worth the expense. No one had mentioned their leaving the children unattended, and no one, as far as he knew, had seen them drinking.

"As if they actually printed our columns together," Ginny spat. "That's not sports journalism, that's-"

"Trash." Ted finished. "Gossip and speculation and how has this woman not been punched in the face already?"

Ginny smiled wickedly and cracked her knuckles. "Don't worry, Ted. I got her back."

"You did?"

"Not officially."

He didn't ask. Ginny could be very, very scary at times. It seemed to be a skill all Weasley women possessed, which didn't much reassure him.

Ted didn't get a chance to resolve the situation with Victoire what with the chaos that accompanies travelling with children and the whirlwind of portkey's that delivered them back to England. Even with Harry's influence and Ginny's role for the Prophet they still arrived exhausted and somewhat nauseated after three portkey's out of the stadium, across the continent and into the United Kingdom. Only after minutes of arriving into the Potter's living room Ted slung his bag into the fireplace with a handful of floo powder.

"See you tomorrow night for dinner?" Harry asked.

Ted grinned. "Couldn't stop me."

Harry shifted from one foot to the other. "Sure you can get home okay?"

They looked towards the fireplace, a journey Ted had taken alone multiple times a week since he was eleven. "Yeah, should be."

Harry nodded, but continued to look worried as his godson stepped into the fire and yelled "Tonks residence!"

The world swirled and pinched and seconds later Ted was tripping over the grate he should have learnt was there years ago but still continued to hit every time. His knees hit the floor and soot sprayed across the mat his Gran had placed there for that exact reason.

Coughing, he clambered to his feet, and noticed Andromeda waiting in her arm chair, arms folded, a stern look on her face.

"Hi Gran-!"

Andromeda cut him off with a flick of a finger. "Have a nice time did you?" She rose from the chair. "Let your hair down and try new things?"

Ted swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. So Bill Weasley had not been his biggest problem after all. It was good to have perspective, he decided. Bill wasn't looking half as terrifying now.

From the coffee table Andromeda pulled two copies of the Daily Prophet and Ted didn't need to look to know what page they were turned to. "Am I going to be reading about you in the paper again tomorrow, Edward?"

Ted flinched at that. He seriously hoped his short lived fame was over and, provided no one had seen him and Victoire the night before, he could probably get away with keeping his head down at least until he turned seventeen, and therefore potentially less interesting to Rita Skeeter.

Then he would just been the adult wizard corrupting his under-age girlfriend. That thought wasn't comforting either.

Andromeda evidently hadn't been expecting a response and continued on a similar line of anger that Bill had just a few days before. "Irresponsible", "underage" and "embarrassing the family" were not new concepts to him. It was only when he she began to talk about "corrupting that poor young girl!" that Ted felt the need to intervene.

"We both know this was all Vic's idea, Gran." He rolled his eyes. "She's always been the terrible influence in this friendship."

Immediately, he realised what mistake he'd made. Andromeda's eyes narrowed and she got that 'Toujours Pur' look about her that only cropped up when he'd done something really, really bad. Lucky for Ted, the terrible influence herself chose that moment to emerge from the fireplace.

Victoire unfolded from the fire splendidly and dusted off her clothes as she did so. Andromeda softened immediately and smiled at the young girl, who grinned back at them both.

Ted tried to warn her with his eyes to run, that it was all a trap and for god's sake take him with her, but Victoire was loved dearly by his grandmother who immediately embraced her and asked "how was Argentina?"

He pulled a face. Why wasn't his welcome home like that?

"Delightful," she answered.

"I apologize that my wild child of a grandson got you into trouble." Ted was shot a look again. He was beginning to feel guilty for something he hadn't initiated. "He becomes more and more like his mother every day."

Victoire shook her head modestly. She always was better at wriggling out of sticky situations than he was, and somehow he was the one always left to hold the metaphorical dung bomb. Or, in a few actual cases, the literal one. That had been her fault too.

"He was no trouble at all, Andromeda." She winked at Ted, which did nothing to help his frustration with the situation or his hormones. "Honestly, Rita Skeeter was over-exaggerating. Surely Teddy told you that?"

Teddy was going to say that he hadn't actually got much of a chance to tell her anything, but was cut off again by his grandmother, reinforcing his point. "So you and he aren't….involved?"

Lie, he begged silently. Lie and run away. Take me with you.

Victoire laughed and shrugged her shoulders. "I'm not sure what we are," she lied. Success. "We're still trying to figure it out ourselves." She smiled sweetly and Andromeda glanced between them.

Ted tried to emulate her casual shrug and appear as relaxed as she was, but guilt was written across his face and his Grandmother took no prisoners. "Hmm," she said. "You two stay downstairs and in this house-" She pointed a finger sternly- "The doors stay open, Edward."

He nodded. Andromeda eyed him as she left the room so they could talk. He could hear the radio playing in the kitchen and the sounds of pots being assembled, meaning Andromeda was only one room down from them.

Ted looked to his girlfriend, wanting to assess her mood since the last column had been released but he was pushed onto the sofa and Victoire was pressing herself against him, lips on his, hands anywhere but the appropriate distance his grandmother had implied, wasting no time at all.

Yes, Ted decided. Victoire was going to be trouble. But she was also going to be a lot of fun.

So that's the end of this story. But I'm absolutely not done with Ted and Victoire, who were far too much fun.

Hopefully something different will be coming very, very soon.