The waves crashed loudly onto the shore outside of Victoire's bedroom window. It was dark, but it looked as if a storm was coming. The idea of a storm excited her. She loved sleeping when it rained and found the sound of it beating against her window soothing and peaceful. The fact that this time tomorrow she would be in France helped matters, especially knowing that the forecast according to her aunt was nothing but sunny. This time tomorrow she'd already be well worn out after her first day of sun and fun.

She sighed as she looked at her now empty trunk, then around the space of her currently messy bedroom. She really did save entirely too much rubbish that she didn't need. For someone who was generally so organized, her trunk had become far too cluttered. It was something she'd realized only after scattering its contents all over the floor in an attempt to clear space to pack it again for her holiday.

Her robes lay in heap underneath her desk; her books, supplies, and miscellaneous accessories stacked themselves on the floor, the bed, and every other free corner of the room. On any normal occasion, she would have been completely horrified to see her room in this state, but this evening she was far too excited. At seven o'clock in the morning, she had a Portkey waiting for her.

The end of term and her exams had gone well, oddly enough thanks in part to her numerous detentions. Sure, her first detention had been with Professor Ivanson where he made her copy lines for four and a half hours, but for every subsequent detention she had been assigned to help Professor Holt, who she knew was fond of her. He let her study in the dungeons for her various exams and only kept her for two hours at a time before saying she was free to leave.

He kept her for so little time that Victoire actually chose to stay an hour or so longer so that she could take advantage of the quiet and uninterrupted study time. Making her detentions appear actually longer than they were also allowed her to spare herself from having to listen to Colleen's whining about unfair treatment.

"She thinks that what you and your sister got was unfair," Tom Haines had told her in one of her last Potions' lessons, "since she got detention for the rest of term."

"Oh, how horrible," Victoire muttered as she stirred her cauldron. "She's got one more detention than I do. Such a victim."

"Apparently, she's going around telling anyone who will listen that Longbottom is a bastard who favors you and Dominique because he's friends with your family."

"You're joking?" she said. "Yes, he obviously favors us. That's why I had a month's worth of detention and Nicki was forced to miss a match she'd been looking forward to for ages."

"Well, did you hear her and Penelope going on about how great it was to have your sister suspended from that match?" he continued as he concentrated on stirring his own cauldron. "I thought Durrin was going to hex them both. They kept carrying on how it was justice served and that they were happy she couldn't play. Neither of them seemed to realize that everyone else was pissed we'd lose."

She laughed as she watched Tom's potion start to turn into a purplish color. "I bet that went over well."

"They're idiots," he said. "What can you expect? I can't blame you and your sister for going off on 'em. I only wish I had been there to see it."

"People are over-exaggerating what really happened," she said. "I had to correct my own cousin the other day because he was telling everyone that Colleen shot knives out of the tip of her wand at us."

"Still," he said with a laugh, "it would have been nice to see them finally get a taste of their own medicine. If you would have made her cry, you would have been my hero."

Unfortunately, making Colleen cry wasn't something she had had the opportunity to do. As it were, she didn't speak another word to Colleen after that day in the common room. They avoided each other like the plague and only had to endure dirty looks from one another if they happened to be in the same vicinity. It was a small price to pay to be rid of her for good.

Victoire had even run into Aspeth on one of the last days of school, and was surprised to see her smile and wish her luck on her exams before carrying on. It made Victoire wonder if she and Aspeth could have ever been friends had Colleen not been in the picture.

Thinking about that thought just made her wonder what else would have been different had she never met Colleen and, after a while, that thought had made her head hurt.

Upon arriving home from school, her parents had both immediately sat Dominique and her down to discuss the 'incident at school'—as she and Dominique were now referring to it. They both explained their side of the story and came to find out that Professor Longbottom had actually written a very fair letter to their mother and father mentioning the harassment and various other things he had heard surrounding what had happened.

"I cannot believe you were being harassed by this girl and you didn't tell us," said her mother.

"Mum, it really isn't as bad as it sounds," Victoire said. "And she's finished school now, so she'll be gone and out of the picture."

"I still don't like that you two used magic on another student like that," her father mumbled. "According to Neville though, you both were punished appropriately."

"He made me miss the bloody Quidditch Cup!" Dominique said, as if it somehow equated to being tortured. "And we lost! That went over really well, let me tell you. A complete disaster. Our Chasers apparently couldn't sink half their shots, Durrin essentially gave up, I don't even know what happened with our Beaters, but I was told they could barely land any of the Bludgers, which I expect from Tommy, but not Jack."

"Whit told me Jack said it was the worst game he'd ever played," Victoire said.

"Because it was. And whatever the hell Durrin was thinking by putting in Cay at Seeker..." Dominique whined, letting her head thump down on the table in defeat.

Their father and her mother stared at both of their daughters for a moment before exchanging looks between themselves. Their expressions seemed to wonder how this conversation had so quickly flipped from being about trouble at school to Quidditch matches.

In the end, they both agreed that the girls had been punished accordingly by the school and, as Dominique pointed out, the howler that their mother had sent shouting at them in angry French didn't save them any embarrassment. They were both told that they could still go to France which, upon hearing that, Victoire was now back on track to be excited about sunning and swimming in a few days time. It had instantly raised her spirits.

"Woah…" Dominique said as she entered through Victoire's open bedroom door and looked around at the terrible mess. "What happened here?"

"Unpacking and repacking," she said as she plopped down on the floor next to her trunk and started pointing her wand at her wardrobe. Items of clothing came flying out and started neatly folding themselves inside of her trunk.

"And I thought I was bad," she said. "How much are you taking?"

"As much as I can fit," she said as the figure of Louis suddenly appeared behind Dominique.

"Hey, Vic," he said, knocking on the frame of the door. "Ted's here."

Victoire stared at him blankly, wondering if she had somehow misunderstood him. Ted... Ted ? Her oldest friend? The current object of many of her runaway daydreams and fantasies? That Ted? Why was Ted here?

"Right now?"

"Yes…?" Louis said, though he disappeared as quickly as he'd appeared back out into the corridor. Dominique grinned a little.

Victoire looked around her mess of a room and suddenly panicked a little. She had written to Ted to tell him that she would be home for three days before she left for France, but hadn't heard any sort of response and had given up hoping that she could see him before she left. She had secretly hoped he may just pop by if he had a free moment, but she hadn't really expected it. She had no reason to think he would, and she certainly hadn't expected him to do so with her room looking like a tornado had spun through it.

She stood up and immediately went to look in the mirror. To make things worse, she was wearing an old Weird Sisters t-shirt that had once belonged to her father and a pair of joggers. She had even taken a page out of Dominique's stylebook and had thrown her hair up in a sloppy ponytail because she hadn't felt like doing anything with it earlier that day.

"Shit, shit, shit," she mumbled anxiously as she started looking herself up and down and wondered why she had chosen to wear this outfit of all outfits. She did not look cute at all, at least she certainly didn't think so. "I look like a mess."

"No you don't," Dominique said. "I actually really like what you're wearing for once. I'd even wear that."

Victoire groaned.

"It's Ted, Vic. He knows what you look like, good times and bad. I doubt he cares."

"I care," she said as started absently pushing the fallen strands of hair behind her ears. It would have to do.

She moved around her sister and walked out of her room and glanced down the stairs. Even though he hadn't noticed her yet, she smiled the second she saw him. He was laughing at something her father was saying as they stood below talking.

She never noticed how adorable he looked when he laughed.

"Hiiiii, Ted," Dominique said in a very sing-song tone.

Victoire's smile dropped off her face. Her sister was standing just beside her, glancing downstairs as well. She threw her a dirty look, but Dominique just continued to smile in a way that showed she was genuinely amused by all of this.

"Hey, Nicki," he said as he looked up at the pair of them. "Hey, Vic."

"Hi," Victoire said with a quick, albeit awkward, smile as she pushed her hair behind her ear once more. "Hi, what are you doing here?"

He shrugged. "Since you're all leaving tomorrow I thought I'd pop in and say hello."

"Oh, how very sweet," Dominique said, still smiling. Victoire elbowed her in the ribs and stepped in front of her.

"You can come up you know," Victoire said as she attempted to sound casual.

"Yes, Ted, come on up!" Dominique quipped. "Loads of fun to be had up here!"

"Had your fun?" Victoire whispered to her under her breath. "Go to your room and finish packing or something."

"I'm all done," she said with a smile that Victoire didn't like the look of. This was especially the case once she took a few steps downstairs and paused once she met Ted halfway. "My, my, Ted, have you got taller?"

"No," he said with a curious laugh. "Why? Do I look taller?"

She hummed. "You just seem different. Perhaps you're just getting better looking is all."

"Thanks?" he said, sounding confused. Victoire shot Dominique another dirty look while Ted couldn't see; the second he turned back around, she straightened up and smiled.

"What's up with her?" he asked.

"It's more like what's wrong with her?" she said just loud enough for Dominique to hear. She could hear her sister practically cackle before she disappeared into the kitchen.

Victoire turned toward Ted. He was grinning at her and gave her an affectionate touch on her arm. "So, what's up?" he asked. "Packing?"

"Yeah," she said quickly as she gave a nervous start as he touched her. She silently scolded herself for suddenly being so weird around him and turned to walk into her room mostly for somewhere to be. As she entered, she eyed the piles of notebooks, robes, and other rubbish lying around.

"Sorry, it's messy."

"I can see that," he said as he carefully stepped towards the bed, trying not to step on anything. He moved a stack of books over and created a spot for him to sit.

She smiled as she watched him, but quickly forced herself not to stare and turned herself away. She plopped back down on the ground where she had been folding clothes before.

"How's work?" she asked.

He shrugged. "It's work. How's school?"

"It's school," she said in the same lazy way he had. She grinned at him and he returned it, but he looked away after a few seconds.

"Are you taking your entire wardrobe?" he asked once he absently picked up a book and started flipping through it.

"Not the whole thing, but it's a month in France. I need to be prepared."

"Looks more like a year," he said, leaning back against the wall to observe her.

"Well, that would be nice, wouldn't it?"

"No," he mumbled quickly, which gave her a quick pause. "Anyway, who wants to stay in France for that long?"

"I think it'd be lovely," she said. "But I'd probably get homesick."

He glanced at her. "You definitely would. You're a ridiculous homebody."

"I'm not that bad," she said as she folded a shirt and placed it in her trunk.

"I cannot count the number of times you came to me at school saying how much you missed your parents, your house, your bed…" He glanced down at the bed. "I can't blame you on that one though because it is comfy. I could easily sleep on this."

She forced herself not to look at him as the thoughts of him, and her bed, and him being in her bed started to run away in her mind. She smiled but she just hoped she wasn't blushing. She needed to change the subject. "So, I haven't told you about what happened at school with Colleen."

"Do I want to know?" he said a bit apprehensively.

She smiled. "I probably shouldn't think this is funny, but—" She paused for dramatic effect, "I stunned her in the middle of the common room."

His jaw dropped, though he looked skeptical. "You're lying."

She shook her head. "We got into a huge fight. Nic was in on it too. Colleen pulled out her wand and the next thing I know she's firing off spells at us. Nic gets hit, so I disarm Colleen and she keeps running her mouth and then—" She shrugged and mimicked pointed her imaginary wand at him, " Stupefy ."

He stared at her. "You're serious?"

She nodded.

He continued to stare at her for a long moment before he finally started to smile. That smile slowly turned into a laugh and him saying, "You are incredible. Seriously, that is amazing. Good for you. No one in the world deserved it more than she does—"

She felt herself blush as she tuned out whatever else he was saying about Colleen being a bitch and deserving it. She was too busy focusing on the fact that he'd called her incredible. That wasn't a word Ted threw around casually.

She knew she was probably exposing every possible emotion she felt for him at the moment—her blushing cheeks, the inability to stop grinning at him like a complete idiot, and her timid body language—but as far as she was concerned, she might as well just have, " I'm in love with you" written across her forehead. She couldn't help but think her mannerisms were screaming it.

"You alright?" he asked suddenly, looking her up and down. "Your face is all red."

She looked away from him. Shit, he really had noticed. She forced herself to stand then as a means of distraction. "Yeah, it's just very warm in here. Very, very warm…"

"A bit, yeah," he said, deciding then to toss the book he had been looking through aside and pick up a nearby rubber ball instead.

She turned to busy herself in her wardrobe. She wasn't really sure what she was doing, but she just needed a second to gather her thoughts. She could not understand why she couldn't pull herself together. She never had problems flirting and being herself around boys she fancied. She'd never been the nervous type because she'd never seen the point. Yet here she was.

What was wrong with her? If it had been any other guy...

But that was it, of course. She realized this as she grabbed a shirt she already knew she wasn't going to pack and started to examine it absently. Ted wasn't any other guy. He was Ted—the person who knew her better than almost anyone. She couldn't act how she normally did with other boys around him. He'd think she was being mental.

So how was she to act? She knew she should say something, but should she bring this up? There was no going back if she said something. The idea of never going back was terrifying. She'd already lost him once...

"So, what are you going to get me while you're in France?" he suddenly asked, cutting into her thoughts.

She turned around and faced him. "You want me to bring you back something?"

He shrugged. "Sure. You still owe me a birthday present."

She did, that was true. She smiled, even if the idea of Ted asking for a present was a bit odd for him. "What do you want me to bring you?"

"I'm not supposed to tell you," he said as he threw the ball up into the air and caught it. "You're supposed to surprise me."

How about, surprise, I'm in love with you? she thought to herself, though she didn't dare say it. How would that be for a gift?

"You could give me an idea," she suggested. "If I could give you anything in the world—the entire world—what would that thing be?"

He continued to stare at the ball he had been throwing up and down, but a smile was now playing at the corner of his lips. She knew that look—he was hiding something. There was something he actually wanted. He even opened his mouth to speak, though quickly shut it.

"Nevermind."

"No. What?"

"It's nothing," he said as he caught the ball again and shrugged.

"Tell me."

"I can't tell you," he said, laughing as he spoke.

"Since when can't we tell each other things?" she asked, realizing how much of a hypocrite she was as she said it. If he only knew the things she wanted to tell him.

"Because," he said with a strange expression. "I'm not sure why I can't tell you, but I just can't."

She stared at him. That was...what was that? That was cryptic gibberish.

"What does that mean?"

"I don't even know." He looked away. "Just forget about it. I shouldn't have said anything."

"You didn't say anything!" she said, laughing as she said it.

"And that's my problem," he mumbled as he sat up straight and suddenly glanced toward the half open door. Victoire could hear footsteps, which meant someone was passing toward the stairs.

"Hey, Louis!" Ted called.

Victoire turned and saw her brother poke his head into her room. He mumbled a curious, "What's up?" though Victoire wanted nothing more for him to say his hellos and go. Ted had been playing at something a minute earlier and she wanted to get back to that.

"Nothing." Ted shrugged. "Just seeing what you were up to." He suddenly threw the little rubber ball he was holding at him, which Louis caught.

"Oh," said Louis, looking a little confused, but throwing the ball back at Ted nonetheless. Victoire also was confused as she watched them both for a few moments. She finally had Ted here—after two months of wishing for it—and she was now doing nothing more than watching him play catch with her brother. This hadn't been what she'd had in mind during all those daydreams of them finally getting to be alone.

"If either of you break something…" Victoire said once Louis narrowly missed hitting a little clown figurine that sat atop her dresser chest.

"We're not going to break anything," Louis said, shaking his head.

Ted smiled. "Not accidentally at least. Of course, if that ugly, horrifying little clown thing happens to get hit—"

"Does that scare you, too?!" Louis asked before he laughed and looked at his sister.

"It's terrifying," Ted said, looking over at it. "I swear I've had nightmares about that thing since I was a kid."

"You have not," said Victoire with a roll of her eyes.

"It's his creepy clown smile," Louis mumbled, tossing the ball back to Ted. "It looks demonic."

"You're both making this up," she said. "Papa Delacour bought me that in Paris when I was a baby. I love it."

"Yes, but you're a freak," Louis said as he tossed the ball to Ted and missed him by several feet. The ball bounced off Victoire's desk, nearly missing her lamp, and came falling down into a pile of her things on the floor.

"Stop," she commanded, glaring at both of them.

Her brother and Ted both suddenly looked like mischievous children who had just been caught doing something they shouldn't have. Ted snatched at the ball and placed it down beside him while Louis tried not to laugh.

"You're both acting as if you're ten," she muttered.

"Sorry, Vic," Ted muttered, pulling himself forward to now randomly pick things up off the floor. "Why do you keep all of this stuff?"

"Because she's a hoarder," Louis said, reaching down toward his feet to randomly pick up old letter bundles and used notebooks. Her brother touching her things made her reach forward and swat his hand.

"Nosy, much?"

"Do you save every letter ever written to you?" he asked as he held up one of her many letter bundles.

"What if I do?" she asked, grabbing the one he'd been holding from him and chucking it onto her bed. With a look that sharply told him to mind his own business, she continued to pack away the rest of her trunk.

"You've always saved everything," Ted said absently from the bed, having spread out and settled himself back against the wall again now that his game of catch was over. She noticed he was staring up at the ceiling, presumably at the dark spot that she frequently found herself staring at.

"How do you fit it all in your trunk?" Louis asked as he continued to poke through her things. "Shrinking Charm?"

"I'm an excellent packer," she said with a smile. "Now where are my sandals?"

"Probably under all of this shit," Louis offered.

She ignored him and turned back to her wardrobe, where she half disappeared inside. She'd had no reason to wear them in ages, so they were probably buried somewhere in the back. She aimlessly felt for her wand until she found it near her leg and pulled it inside the wardrobe with her; she cast a light onto the back to see around all of the small boxes.

"I'll give you this though, Vic," she could hear Louis say. "For someone with so much shit, you really do hide it well."

She laughed as she pointed her wand at the corner of her wardrobe where she thought she saw something that resembled a sandal. She contorted herself uncomfortably around a box to grab at them.

"Hey, Ted, this has your name on it," Louis said.

Victoire attempted to grab for her sandals, but they were just out reach. They were tightly wedged between something. It really had been ages since she'd worn them.

"Let me see," she heard Ted say as she managed to get one sandal loose. She wiggled her hand just out of reach and barely managed the other as she tugged on them both and began to pull herself out. She reappeared and held both sandals up proudly.

"Found them," she said with a laugh.

But that was when the world stopped. Or perhaps not the whole world, but at least her world.

Ted was still sitting on the bed, looking over a piece of very crumpled parchment that he had taken the time to smooth out to read. It took several seconds for her to actually realize what was going on and what he was currently looking at; when it hit her, she suddenly felt an icy panic overcome her.

The letter she had written him for his birthday.

The letter she had promised herself she was going to burn so that no one would ever lay eyes on it was now being read by the one person she had especially hoped would never ever, ever, ever see it.

Everything suddenly felt as if it was going in slow motion...with the exception of her heart. That was now beating faster than she'd ever felt it.

"Where did you get...?" she said before she lunged at him to grab at it. His reaction was quicker though. He already turned his back to her to continue to read.

"What the hell...?" Louis said. "Vic, what are you—?"

"You can't read that!" she said as she practically found herself jumping on Ted to get to the paper in his hands. He somehow was exhibiting some masterful ability to ignore her and focus only on what was in front of him, because he barely seemed to register that she was there. He was definitely reading every last bit of it.

"What has gotten into you?" Louis asked as he went and pulled Victoire back to restrain her. "What's on that parchment? What does it say?"

"Ted!" Victoire yelled desperately as she fought against her brother holding her back. Louis actually seemed to be struggling to hold her, even though she was considerably smaller than he was. "Louis, stop! Let me go!"

She found herself breathing heavier and heavier. The beating of her heart on top of the now crushing feeling she felt in her stomach as she watched Ted continue to read made her want to be sick.

Louis finally let go of one of her arms. He was staring at her as if she were a maniac. "What is wrong with you?"

But she wasn't listening to him now. Ted had turned his body back around and even though he was still staring at the letter in his hands, his expression had completely changed from what it had been minutes before. He looked blank and confused. He almost looked as if he was now staring through the piece of parchment.

"Vic?" Louis said as he glanced between her and Ted, neither of whom were moving or making any noise aside from Victoire's heavy breathing. She suddenly felt as if she wasn't even in the room. She felt as if she was observing this as an outside party somewhere else. She wanted to move, but her body felt numb.

Ted suddenly looked at her, his face a mixture of a lot of things that Victoire couldn't recognize. Their eyes met for only a moment before she felt an enormous desire to run and not turn back. To do something besides stand there looking like a fool.

She yanked her arm out of her brother's grasp and stormed out of the room, down the stairs, and toward the front door.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" her mother called out once Victoire rushed by both her and Dominique.

She said nothing and lunged for the door, pulling it open. She rushed outside and found her eyes filled with tears. She quickly darted around to the side of the house to escape. She felt humiliated and couldn't handle seeing Ted again now. She had to get out of there.

She suddenly thought of the first place she could go; with a small pop, she Disapparated.