"Are you okay, Vicki?" she heard Simon ask from somewhere far away. Or at least that's how it sounded. He was actually sitting just beside her..
"Are you ill?" Whit asked as she placed a hand on Victoire's shoulder. "Perhaps you've had too much to drink."
Tears were already welled up in Victoire's eyes as she clenched her jaw and fists tightly. She felt as if she was going to be ill, alright. But it had absolutely nothing to do with the alcohol.
"Do you need some air?" Whit asked as she followed her gaze and finally seemed to connect the dots and realize what was going on. She rounded back on Victoire with her mouth agape. "Oh, no…Oh, no, no, no…"
"What's wrong?" Simon asked, sounding concerned now.
Victoire wasn't looking at Whit or Simon, but she had a feeling that the former was attempting to silently alert the latter of what was happening. She must have succeeded because after a moment, Simon let out a long and low, "Ohhhhhhh…"
"He's a prat," Whit said quickly. "A wretched prat who is piss drunk and probably doesn't even realize what he's putting his lips on."
"He's a little shit," Simon said, giving Victoire a sympathetic look.
"I need some air," Victoire said, not looking at anyone as she jumped out of her chair and headed straight for the door. A few tears fell down her face as she pushed it open and was greeted by the cool night air.
She couldn't believe it. She couldn't believe what she had just seen. She was so stupid. So stupid to have let herself fall so far. She had been right all along and now she couldn't believe that she had ever let herself even fancy him. She hated him.
"Victoire," Whit said, catching up to her. "I'm so sorry."
"I'm such an idiot," she said a little louder than usual as she wiped tears off of her cheek. She didn't really feel sad, just angry. Angry at Stuart, angry at Colleen, but mostly angry at herself.
"You aren't," Whit said, shaking her head. "You couldn't have known. He's an idiot who led you on."
"I'm such an idiot," she repeated.
"He's drunk," Whit said. "Not that that's an excuse, but people don't always do things they mean to when they're drunk-"
"I don't care," she said. "I'm disgusted by him. I can't believe I ever…" She clenched her fists and just let out a small scream. A couple walking nearby stopped briefly and gawked at her.
"Get it out," Whit encouraged. "It's healthier this way."
She started shaking her head. "I just can't believe I let myself—"
"You couldn't have known," Whit said, stepping forward to hug her. "You told me once that it was better this way. Remember on your birthday? At least you found this out now because you know Colleen would never have stopped trying."
"Bitch," she mumbled into Whit's shoulder.
"We know that," she said as she pulled back and looked Victoire in the eyes. "Do you want to go? We can go back to my house if you'd like and you can calm down."
"No," she said adamantly. "No, I'm not going to be run out of there because of them. My friends are there and I made them come here. No, I'm going to go and visit with them."
"Are you sure?" she asked.
Victoire had already started marching back toward the pub. "Yes. I'm not going to let her and him…Uggg!" She pushed the door to the pub open rather ferociously. Several people turned to stare at her; one group of older men suddenly cheered her enthusiasm. She ignored them and walked right back over to where Simon and Susan were sitting.
"Hey," said Susan softly. Simon had obviously filled her in on all the details while they had been outside because her face was now completely filled with sympathy.
"Are you feeling better?" Simon asked.
"I'm fine," she said with a fake smile. "I just want to have a good time with you all."
"That's the spirit," he said as he stood up. "I'm getting some drinks. Can I buy you something?"
"Oh," Whit began. "We weren't going to have anything else—"
"Yes, please," Victoire said, cutting her off. "Anything. Surprise me."
Whit stared at her. "Victoire…"
"I just want to forget about THAT." She pointed in the direction of what she had seen earlier, but didn't dare to look. "I'll be fine. It's one more."
Whit looked concerned, but said nothing else. Victoire was thankful for this as she started absently listening to a story that Susan was telling them about a boy she had known while she was in school that reminded her of Victoire's situation. It quickly turned into a bit of a male bashing session until Simon returned and put an end to all of that.
"We're not all bad," he said as he slid a shot of something green towards Victoire. "For you. It'll take the edge off."
She stared at it. She had no idea what it was, but for some reason the small glass looked warm and inviting; a feeling she was desperately craving at the moment.
"Oh, are you really going to take that—?" Whit said before Victoire took the glass and downed the shot in one gulp. It burned on the way down, but after a quick moment, she felt especially warm. She coughed and shook herself out once the aftertaste hit her.
"Thank you," she said to Simon as she glanced around and noticed that Ted had been missing for some time now. "Where did Ted go?"
"He took your advice, I suppose," Simon said. "He was talking to that girl up at the bar."
"I haven't seen him in months and he's off talking to some girl?" she asked, making a face.
"Well," Whit said. "Not to bring up the subject again, but you did ask them to come here because you wanted to see—" She hesitated and glanced in the direction towards Stuart, "He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named."
"That's different," she muttered. "And I'm not over there talking to him am I? I'm over here."
"That's because you saw him snog—" Simon began before there was a thump under the table. He stopped speaking. Susan was staring at him wearily.
"Whatever, forget about Ted," she said grumpily, turning to Simon and Susan and attempting to change the subject. "Tell me all about the Ministry! I want to know all about these ridiculous robes I've heard about that you're forced to wear."
"They're not that bad," he said with an amused smile before he started to tell her all about life in the Department of Magical Transportation. Every word he said, Victoire found herself paying extreme attention to, as if it was the most important thing in the world...except she wasn't digesting any of it. Everything was in one ear and out the other, though she was nodding animatedly as he spoke.
He stopped and stared at her. "Are you alright? You seem a bit glassy eyed."
"I'm fine," she said, almost falling off of her stool as she said it. Whit managed to catch her and balance her just in time.
"Nothing more to drink for her," Whit said.
"I'm fine," she repeated as she waved her hand. "Honestly, fine."
"Perhaps that shot wasn't such a good idea," Susan said.
"She's not hurting anyone," Simon said. "It's not as if we're going to let her run off on her own. Plus, I'm sure you feel better, right?"
"I do," she said with a goofy smile. "Very much so."
Simon smiled before turning to Whit. "So...how did you two become friends?"
"Oh," she said, looking at Victoire. "Well, we've always been in the same year together, and this year we just started hanging out more and more. We found out we had loads in common and it sort of grew from there."
"We do," Victoire said, nodding very quickly. "She's fantastic!"
Simon smiled before he turned back to Whit. "I'm glad to see her hanging out with people other than her old set of friends. They were a nightmare."
" Are a nightmare!" Victoire corrected. "Oh! You'd never believe what that stupid tramp Colleen Lynch did to her."
Victoire proceeded to tell him and Susan all about the note and the Hogsmeade fiasco—all the petty and vindictive things Colleen had been pulling lately—though she seemed fuzzy on the details and kept slipping up the story. Whit volunteered to tell the ending.
"And this is the same girl over there?" Susan asked, pointing towards her. "She sounds horrible."
"She is horrible!" Victoire said as she folded her arms so quickly across her chest that she actually fell off her stool this time. Both Whit and Simon jumped up to help her.
"I'm alright," she said, laughing as she spoke because it all was rather funny. "I'm fine."
"Perhaps we should go," Whit said as she pulled her up.
"No." She checked the time. "It's only a little after nine o'clock or something. I never get to see Simon!"
"You're home for a few more days, right?" Simon asked. "We can hang out another time. Perhaps when you're having a better time and we can have some real fun."
"I'm fine, " she repeated.
"Sure you are," Whit said before she took Victoire's arm and began to lead her away. She looked at Simon. "I'm going to take her outside, but will you do me a favor and let Ted know we're leaving. I don't want to be rude."
He nodded and Whit led Victoire through the pub and outside into the night. She let go of her once they were in the open space of the street; Victoire closed her eyes as she suddenly felt a little dizzy. She quickly found the curb and sat down.
"You are not fine," Whit asked as she sat down beside her.
"I just don't feel so well all of the sudden." She put her head between her knees. "I didn't even drink that much."
"You never drink," she said. "Even a little bit is a lot."
"You're leaving?" came a voice that she immediately knew belonged to Ted. She could feel him approach and even that he knelt down to get level with her, but she still didn't look up.
"How much did she drink?"
"Just the two pints and a shot of something," Whit said. "The shot is what did it, though."
She could hear Ted laugh a little. "Well, that'll get you every time."
"It made me feel better," she said without looking up. "Until now that is."
"Feel better about what?" he asked. Victoire heard Whit take a deep breath.
"She saw Stuart Reynolds and Colleen Lynch sort of snogging…Heavily. She got upset."
"Oh, bloody hell," he muttered. "Vic, I'm sorry."
"They're arseholes," she said, holding back the feeling of tears. "Complete arseholes. Colleen I knew, but…"
She could feel Ted stand up. "You can't let her go home like this," he said presumably to Whit. "Her parents will go ballistic if she turns up in this state." He paused. "Here, stay with her for a second. I'll be right back."
Victoire finally looked up and saw that Ted was headed back to the pub. The dizzy feeling had passed for the moment and now all she felt was depressed as she thought about Stuart and how stupid she was.
"Feeling any better?" Whit asked.
"A little," she said, just before the door to the pub opened once more and Colleen and Penelope poured out giggling about something. It took them a moment to notice Victoire and Whit sitting on the curb.
"Oh, hi!" Penelope said, clearly drunk. "How are you?"
"I'd thought you'd left," Colleen said as she almost tripped on a cobblestone in the street. Victoire could feel Whit's reach out and grab at her arm and grip it tightly. She wasn't sure if it was a gesture of solidarity or rather an attempt to keep her from jumping up and cursing Colleen where she stood.
"Come on," Penelope said, trying to pull Colleen away. "We can't talk about it here and I want to hear all the details."
Colleen smiled at Victoire. She felt her blood boil and made a motion to stand up, but Whit pulled her back before she actually could. At the same time, the door to the pub quickly opened once more as Ted reappeared and nearly knocked Colleen over where she stood. He peeked around the door and began to apologize, though quickly stopped.
"Ted Lupin?" Colleen asked, seemingly surprised to see him. "Is that you?"
He gave her a disinterested look and said nothing, instead walking over to where Victoire and Whit were still sitting.
"Shit," she said. "You look different without your hair being blue or green or whatever ridiculous color you'd make it." She laughed. "You actually almost look normal."
"Wish I could say the same for you." He knelt back down towards Victoire. "You still look as pitiful as ever."
She stopped and stared daggers at him. Victoire couldn't help but let out a short laugh.
"Still a freak, I see."
"And you're still a cow," he called back. "Some things never change."
Colleen looked challenged and immediately shouted back, "What did you say?" but Penelope was already pulling her down the street. She eventually gave in and followed after her, but Victoire could hear them laughing as they left.
"Good riddance," Ted mumbled as he turned back to them, looking Victoire directly in the eyes. 'You know, they're in for a rude awakening one of these days."
"You really think so?" she asked.
"I know so." He pulled himself up and reached out a hand to pull her to her feet. "Come on. Let's get out of here."
"Where are we going?" she asked as she felt her eyelids get heavy.
"You can come and sober up a bit at my place," he said. "We can't send you home like this."
"You don't have to leave on account of me," she said, thinking about how she was now essentially forcing Ted to have to leave. "I thought you met some girl or something."
"Don't worry about me."
"I don't want to ruin your night. I'd hate to be to blame for—"
"You worry too much." He shook his head and turned toward Whit. "Do you want to come? I live just down there."
"Yeah, I'll help get her there," she said as the three of them began walking down the street towards Ted's place. Upon realizing she was finally going to see his big, grown up flat, Victoire's mood perked up a bit.
"I finally get to see it!" she said as they walked. "Finally see how you're living on your own."
"It's really nothing special," he said.
"Well, it's something," she said matter-of-factly. "I'm very proud, Ted."
"Right…" He smiled as they appeared before a building where he stopped and held the door open for the both of them. Whit helped Victoire up the stairs until they reached the landing where Ted claimed to live.
He stepped in front of them and opened the door with his wand, but not before saying, "Again, it's really nothing special."
He pointed his wand inside and light instantly filled the room as the girls stepped in. It wasn't large, but it wasn't small either. Surprisingly enough, it was quite neat. He had a small kitchen area immediately to the right of the door and his sitting room contained a sofa, a chair, and a small table. The furniture was pushed towards one side of the room and arranged in a cramped manner due to a large work bench that was taking up the majority of the back wall. It was covered with papers and storage racks filled with various glass vials that contained strange liquids and ingredients. It seemed like Ted often brought his work home with him.
"Make yourself at home," Ted said as both Victoire and Whit looked around. Whit went straight over to sit on the sofa, but Victoire wanted to explore.
"It's cozy," she said.
"I try."
She wandered in further and pushed open a door to reveal his bedroom. It was a much smaller room and essentially had a bed sitting in the corner against the window. The remaining space was filled with a wardrobe and a chair with clothes thrown all over it.
"I'm impressed," she said.
"By all of my nothingness?" he joked as he joined her and watched as she observed his bedroom.
She shrugged. She didn't think it was nothing. She turned to walk back into the other room, where she took the seat next to Whit on the sofa. She immediately leaned her head back and could feel her eyelids getting heavier and heavier. The only thing that kept her from slowly drifting off was a sudden strange tapping noise.
"What's that noise?" she asked with a quick look around.
"Oh," Ted said, crossing the room toward the back wall. "I wonder how long he's been out there."
"What a pretty owl," Whit said as Victoire heard Ted open a window. "Is he yours?"
"Yeah," Ted said as he fumbled with whatever post he'd been sent. In her peripherals, Victoire could just make out his owl, Auggie, fly back into the room.
"It's really beautiful," Whit added. "Is it a male or a female?"
"A male," he said, though he sounded distracted now. "His name's Auggie."
"I named him!" Victoire randomly announced as she pulled herself up so that she could see what Ted was doing behind them. He had a letter in his hand that he appeared to be reading; Auggie was standing on his desk and looking at him rather expectantly.
"How come you didn't send him with any of your letters when you wrote?" Victoire asked, watching Auggie bobble around to gain his footing."You always used standard post owls."
"He's getting older," he said once he finished reading whatever he'd been sent before he dropped the letter on his desk. "The trip to Hogwarts wears on him. It's easier to send the younger post owls." He reached down to pet him, but Auggie snapped in an annoyed manner that caused Ted to retract his fingers immediately. "As you can see he's grouchy because he's a crotchety, old geezer."
Auggie snapped again and Ted smiled. "Still, I wouldn't trade him for the world."
Victoire smiled as Whit laughed a little and stood. She walked across the room to where Ted had several picture frames propped up at the end of his work bench and started to examine them.
"Sorry, I'm nosy," she said to Ted.
"By all means," he said as he looked around the sitting room. "I don't have much to offer as far as entertainment's concerned, so whatever you find."
"Ever thought of decorating?" Victoire asked just as Ted circled the couch and sat down next to her. "You know, make the place a bit more cheerful. A little paint, perhaps?"
"I've thought about it plenty," he said. "Now ask me if I ever have the time."
"You have to have some time."
"I don't think you realize how much I work."
"Who are these kids?" Whit asked. She turned around and flashed a picture toward Ted and Victoire.
Ted shifted himself on the couch to look in her direction. "Oh, those are my godfather's kids. They're practically my little siblings."
"I thought I recognized one of them," Whit said, pointing to James who she clearly must have seen around the common room. He was practically a mini-celebrity in his own right, what with being Harry Potter's son.
"Harry Potter's your godfather, right?" Whit asked.
Ted shot Victoire a look, which she immediately shot back at him. She was well aware Ted didn't love people name dropping Harry or their relationship. She wasn't a big fan either, since people tended to want something or pry for more information than either she or Ted was ever willing to give. But to look at her like she was the one spreading some very poorly kept secret was a bit much. Everyone knew. Not to mention, James was in the picture. Can't claim they're your godfather's children when everyone knows who James' father is.
Ted turned back to Whit. "Yeah. He is."
"This one is in Gryffindor, right"
"Let me see," Victoire said before Whit handed it to her. "Yeah, that's James."
"He's in his second-year at Hogwarts now," Ted said as he leaned closer to it to get a better look. "This picture is a few years old so he's grown a lot. But that's Lily, she's nine. That's Albus, he's eleven and will be at school this next term."
"They're cute," Whit offered, taking the photo back to put it back where it belonged.
Victoire found herself dozing. She sat back and again her eyelids began waging a battle against staying open. She was forcing herself to stay awake, but wasn't succeeding. If she could just close her eyes for a few minutes…
She leaned her head to the side and found Ted's shoulder.
"You alright?" he asked.
"I'm just really tired."
"You can go lie down if you have to." He pointed toward his bedroom. "Go use my room. I'll wake you in a bit and make sure you get home."
She opened her eyes and squinted up at him. "Are you sure?"
"It doesn't bother me."
She thought this sounded like the best idea that she'd heard all night and stood before walking straight into his room. She couldn't actually remember climbing into his bed, or her head hitting the pillow, or falling asleep. She was almost convinced that she had fallen asleep on her walk there.
"Hey," she heard a voice say as someone shook her. "Wake up."
She opened her eyes slowly and recoiled from the light. Why was it so bright? She felt extremely groggy and she had somehow wedged herself snuggly between the wall and edge of the bed. She also wasn't exactly sure where she was until she turned over and saw Ted sitting next to her on the edge of the bed, staring at her.
He smiled. "Good morning, Sunshine."
"It's morning?"
"I'm kidding. You've only been in here for a little over an hour."
"Oh," she said as she pulled herself up. Her head was throbbing. "I'm never drinking again."
He smiled and held out a glass with a strange brown looking liquid in it. It looked like stale sewage water. "Drink this."
"What is that?" she asked, looking horrified at the prospect of putting whatever it was in her body.
"It'll make you feel better," he said. "Trust me. I learned it at the hospital."
"Can I just have some water?"
"This will do more than water will."
She took it from him and sniffed it. It smelled worse than stale sewage water. It smelled positively dreadful. "This is horrible. Are you trying to kill me?"
"Clearly," he joked as he leaned back against his headboard and watched her. "Trust me, you'll thank me later."
She highly doubted that. But after a bit of grumbling, she plugged her nose and attempted to drink it down. It tasted even worse than it looked; she had to stop and cough and gag several times, but after four attempts she managed to get the entire thing down. She wasn't sure it would stay down, however.
"What will that do?" she managed to croak once the horrible aftertaste hit her.
"Have you ever had Pepper-Up Potion?" he asked."It's sort of like that except it works against the alcohol in your body. It'll completely sober you up over the course of the next few minutes."
"It's horrible." She grumpily plopped her head back down on the bed.
"It's better than what your parents will do to you if you show up back home smashed."
She couldn't deny that he made a good point.
She looked up at him. "Is Whit…?" She stopped when she noticed he had brought a bag of crisps from somewhere. She propped herself up on her elbows and helped herself to some. "Is she still here?"
"She left not long ago," he said, waiting for her to get her hand out his bag so that he could continue eating. "We talked about you for a little bit. I like her. She's nice."
"Schow du I ," she said with her mouth full after having stuffed a handful of crisps in there at one. She was desperate to get the horrible taste out of her mouth and was a little overzealous with the amount.
"Come again?" he asked, watching her with great amusement. "I'm sorry, I don't speak that language."
She laughed and covered her mouth to keep herself from spitting crumbs out. She began trying to chew faster so that she could swallow and actually speak, but Ted sat there smirking at her, expectantly waiting for her to finish. The more he looked at her like that, the more she continued to laugh.
"Don't choke," he said as she started to turn red from holding her laughter in.
She finally swallowed and swatted him. "I said 'so do I'." She caught her breath. "I like her too."
"Ohhh, was that all?" he asked. "Here I thought you were attempting Mermish."
"You're a prat," she said as she laughed and lay back down.
"You know," he said, "she told me she's dating Jack Ians. I forgot he wasn't twelve still."
"Yeah, funny how kids have a habit of growing up isn't it?" she said sarcastically.
"Isn't it?" He adjusted the way he was sitting and stretched his legs out on the bed. "I swear James being at Hogwarts blows my mind. Every time I go over to the house to visit, I have to stop myself from asking Harry and Ginny where he is."
Victoire smiled until her stomach gave a terrible start that made her wonder if she was going to be sick. "How long until this stuff starts working?"
"Soon." He looked down at her. "I've taken it a few times myself and I've always seen it work fairly quickly. It depends on how much you've had to drink."
"I hope so," she said softly as she looked up at the ceiling. Perhaps it was because she was under Ted's thick blanket, or perhaps it was because she had on one of her heavier jumpers, but she suddenly felt very warm lying here.
"It's really hot in here."
"Because you've been drinking."
She was starting to feel sweaty; if she didn't act fast, she'd probably start to perspire. She suddenly sat up and pulled her jumper off and threw it towards the foot of the bed. She straightened her t-shirt out before lying back down and craning her next up to look at Ted. He was watching her, but he abruptly focused on the bag in his hand once their eyes met.
"Thanks by the way," she said. "For everything."
"Oh," he said as he found himself particularly interested in studying the bottom of the crisp bag. "Yeah, whatever."
She smiled and continued to watch him. He had gone out of his way tonight to make sure she was alright and that she wouldn't get in trouble. He'd left his own plans, his own potential chance at hitting it off with a girl, and his own fun to make sure she was taken care of. There weren't too many people she could trust to do that.
"So, some shit night for you, huh?" he asked suddenly.
"It's been horrible," she said, staring straight up at the ceiling once more. "Simon's girlfriend probably thinks I'm completely mental."
"Probably," he said with his mouth full, "but she had to find that out sometime."
"Go easy on me, I've had a rough night."
She punched him playfully in the leg; he squirmed out of the way to avoid her fist and nearly fell off the bed in the process. They both laughed, but Victoire particularly found herself finding the entire display rather hysterical. She'd laughed so hard, she felt a cramp.
"Ow, my stomach hurts," she groaned through her laughter as she turned over onto her side and faced the wall away from Ted. "Don't make me laugh."
"Then don't punch me!" he exclaimed as he tried to work the laughter out of his own system. He took a deep breath and exhaled; after a quiet moment he asked, "Hey, are you going to the Quidditch World Cup?"
"Yes, I think so," she said. "Are you?"
"Of course I am," he said. "You really think I wouldn't?"
"I don't know." She turned back towards him. "You're always so busy."
"Yeah, but things are getting better," he said, crumbling up the empty bag and throwing it towards the bin halfway across the room. He missed.
"Nice shot," she teased.
"Nobody likes a smartarse," he said. He pointed his wand towards the bag and lifted it neatly into the bin.
"I can't help it," she said. "You make it so easy."
"Well, it takes one to know one."
He laughed at his own dumb joke; Victoire laughed more at his poor attempt rather than anything being funny, but she stopped shortly after once she found herself staring up at him. From this angle, Ted almost looked like a different person. Then again, she'd been thinking that about him for the last few months. She didn't know if it was the shorter hair or the way he carried himself or what it was, but it was different. It was good. It was actually attractive…
It was in that instant that it happened. In a flash of a moment, she had found herself actually attracted to Ted. It happened so quickly that she wondered if she just imagined it because she'd been drinking. She couldn't deny that she was having fun just lying here and talking to him; joking with him, being with him…But this wasn't the usual feeling she got from being around Ted. This was different.
She looked away briefly before turning back to look at him once more to see if the feeling would disappear. It didn't. It had actually become stronger. Ted was actually quite cute when—
"What's wrong?" he asked. With all her sudden realizations, she hadn't noticed that he was staring at her.
"I…I'm apparently still very drunk," she said before she turned away to face the wall once more. Looking at the wall was safe. You couldn't be attracted to a wall. Walls didn't give you tingly sorts of feelings.
He laughed a little. "Just wait for the potion to take its full effect. You'll be fine."
She nodded, but didn't look at him. She sure hoped she would be fine. Her mind was now swimming. She was torn between a strong—and hopefully alcohol driven—desire to just turn over and kiss him versus a small part of her mind that was starting to sober up and think rationally. She'd had her heart broken just hours before, clearly she was just looking for something to grab a hold of. Her mind was simply playing tricks on her by trying to present Ted as that option.
This was Ted. She had to keep telling herself that.
"You're not feeling worse are you?" he asked.
"No, my stomach's feeling better," she said. "But I still feel drowsy. It's hard to think straight."
He made a noncommittal noise, but didn't say anything. They were both quiet for a long while.
In the silence, she couldn't help but think that this was bad. If this was real, this was bad. She could not be attracted to Ted. That would potentially ruin everything. She couldn't even work out how that would even work if they did…
What was she doing?! ' If they did? ' She'd gone from denying this was even real to now contemplating hypotheticals? This was madness. She wasn't in her right mind. This was Whit's fault. She'd gone and made her dumb suggestion and it had somehow burrowed itself into her brain. That was the only reason she was thinking like this right now. If Whit hadn't said anything...
This was Ted, for fuck's sake. Her oldest friend. The boy she had a million memories with; so many of which were now flying through her head as though on display. That was what she needed to focus on. A lovely, happy, innocent memory. That would help her get it together.
"You're being too quiet," Ted said, cutting into her thoughts.
She dared to look up at him. She'd never noticed how nice his profile was before. "I was just thinking."
"About?"
"Do you remember when we were kids and you swore in front of your grandmother and she started screaming at you?"
"When she bewitched the bar of soap to follow me around and scrub my mouth out?" He looked over at her. "That's what you were thinking about?"
She nodded.
"Why?"
Because the alternative was to think about him in ways she wasn't entirely ready to confront. But she neglected to mention that. She instead shrugged and said, "Because I was."
"I do remember. I can't even smell that stuff without wanting to be sick." He pulled his knees up toward him and started picking at his thumb nail. "What made you think of that?"
"I don't know. It just popped into my head. I've been thinking about a lot of random memories of us lately. Remember the time we set fireworks off in my room?"
"And you still have that mark on your ceiling," he said, pulling a face. "That was the dumbest thing we ever did."
She turned back over and faced him. "But it's still a really good memory."
"We've got a lot of those," he said, now examining his hands.
"We really do," she said as she tried to not pay too much attention to what he was doing with his hands. That just made her wonder what he could do…
She cleared her throat, forcing herself to get back to the sweet and innocent memories. "Remember when you got mad at me when I kissed you?"
As soon as she said it, she regretted it. Of all the memories she could have brought up, she'd gone right to the one where they'd kissed? That was what she'd chosen? Of all the memories?
He glanced at her. "You mean assaulted me? And yes. I still have the scars."
"Assaulted you?" she said, finding that to be a bit much. "And what scars?"
"The emotional ones," he said, though he was grinning and clearly not too scarred. "I mean, don't get me wrong, your aggressiveness is something I appreciate in girls nowadays." He smiled as he went back to focusing on his thumb nail. "I actually enjoy it, but back then, it was quite scary—"
"You're so dramatic." She rolled her eyes and laughed at him, feeling much more normal with him in this moment; much less out of control. "I was just curious what it was like and you of all people know I was a very curious child."
Her smile slowly disappeared as she let the night's events suddenly cloud her thoughts. "I should have known then that every boy I ended up kissing after that would be just as much drama."
"Well, you do deserve much better than a wanker like Reynolds."
She stared at him, though he wasn't looking at her. Something in his tone had made her feel...she couldn't exactly pinpoint it, but hopeful? It was strange.
"Do you think so?" she asked.
He laughed a little and gave her a strange look. "Of course I think so. What kind of stupid question is that? You know you do."
She frowned and looked away. "Obviously I didn't know if I kept trying so hard to go after him."
"Well, you do," he said as he dropped his hand down onto the bed and leaned his head back. "I mean, Vic, you're a beautiful girl who's smart and has a lot going for her. Once you learn to get past fancying these idiots—"
He'd kept talking, but she'd really only heard him up until the point where he'd called her beautiful. Something about the way he'd said it made time feel as if it had stopped; it made her feel as if she'd been hit by a Bludger. It made her feel...
"Do you really think I'm beautiful?" she asked.
"You know you are," he said, though he didn't look at her. "You know all these things I'm telling you."
She smiled; the internal struggle in her head was still waging on as she continued to watch him. Hearing him talk about her being beautiful gave the drunk and hormonal part of her mind a quick edge over the rational, normal side that was telling her to get up and walk away before she did something she might regret come morning. She was close to not caring.
He finally looked over at her and let himself laugh a bit awkwardly. "You're being weird."
"Am I?" she asked in all seriousness.
"A little," he said as they both stared at each other. The moment seemed longer than what was usually considered comfortable, but for some reason Victoire didn't want to look away. There was something in his face that made her curious about what he was thinking and whether or not he was thinking thoughts similar to the ones she was having. But that couldn't be possible, could it?
Ted broke and turned away first, glancing down at his hand once more. She awkwardly looked away as well. What was happening?
She knew if that had been any other boy she would have kissed him if they'd found themselves staring at each other like that; a part of her felt that he may have kissed her back. But only a part. She wasn't convinced. The alcohol was screwing with her ability to read the situation properly and that was the problem.
"I should go," she said suddenly.
"Yeah," he said as he stood so that Victoire could climb out. "Are you alright to…uh—you know?"
"Apparate?"
"Yeah," he said, avoiding her eyes. "You're alright to do that?"
"I think so." She nodded quickly, even though she wasn't quite sure she was. Apparating after drinking was generally frowned upon due to the fact that most people didn't end up at their intended destinations. After the last fifteen minutes, she wasn't sure he head was in the right place at all.
"Alright," he said. "I guess I'll see you later, then. Before you leave for school. Harry said something about a dinner at the Burrow?"
She had no idea what he was talking about, but it sounded like something her family would plan. She nodded and said, "Sure," before stepping forward to give him a hug. It was an awkward hug and reminded her of the days when Celia used to be nearby and watching them. When she pulled away, she realized that she was the one who had to leave and clumsily reached for her wand. As she pulled it out, something inside of her felt quite bold. Whatever it was, it was telling her to say something. He was standing right there.
"Can I ask you a question?" she asked.
He stared at her. He didn't say yes or no, only stared at her. She took that to mean that she could.
"Have you ever wondered why you and…?" She trailed off. She couldn't do it. She wanted to ask if he'd ever thought about the possibility of them being together, but she wasn't sure how to finish that sentence. She wasn't sure if she should finish that sentence.
"Why I...what?"
"You know," she said, shaking her head and deciding against it, "nevermind. Goodnight."
"Night," he said before she disappeared with a small pop and moments later found herself standing outside of her home with the sea breeze whipping against her. She wasn't sure if it was because of what she came close to doing, or because the potion had in fact worked, but she suddenly felt very sober.