In the Garden (Victoire Weasley/Teddy Lupin, PG)

[katie_flint]

Title: In the GardenAuthor: katie_flintPrompt(s): hp_nextgen100: Faux pas, enchanted_jae January prompt: chance, resolveCharacter(s) / Pairing(s): Teddy Lupin/Victoire WeasleyRating: PGWord count: 100 x 3Warnings: N/ASummary: It had all seemed so simple, apparating to Beauxbatons to surprise his girlfriend… Now though, he isn’t so sure he’ll find her. Or if he’ll make it out alive. Notes: First time writing something to completion in over two years. It’s not polished or pretty, but I’m proud to say at least it's here. To many more in the new year, and too much improvement to come. Little by little. Thank you to those who looked this over ! ❤️

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Teddy sat perched on a marble chaise, peering sheepishly out at the vast and maze-like greenery of Beauxbaton's Academy of Magic.

He didn't dare venture any further, already more than sufficiently lost, and much too embarrassed to admit it. Since he had taken this post, not unlike a child separated from their parent, Teddy had been ogled at in a most unsettling manner by these prim and proper ladies and gents.

At first, he had assumed it was his hair, flushed as powder blue as the student’s uniforms, but no. Nor was it his broken French that sent them into unintelligible giggling fits. No, they looked at him with, a hunger.

Uneasy, Teddy had politely declined their generous offers, his hair draining to a plain and mousy brown as he attempted to lose their interest... It was, less than effective.

"Quelle chance!"

Teddy perked at the sound.

"Victoire!"

"Oh, Teddy!" The freckled blonde rushed him, laying feverish kisses on his cheeks, "Teddy, what are you doing here?"

"Well," He flushed, "I'd intended to surprise you, but I got a bit-- lost. This place is a lot bigger than you described in you letters."

"Nonsense," She laughed, "I described it perfectly. It's you who failed to imagine its grandeur. Why didn't you ask one of mes amies for me?"

"They laughed and-" He glanced over to the leering cluster of young peers, leaning in closer, "They looked, hungry. I wasn’t sure they wouldn’t, you know…"

This transformed her laughter into a howling cackle. Unladylike and imperfect, but undeniably comfortable.

"They're veela amor, not harpies!" the cluster in the distance erupted as well, rapidly exchanging laborious words between gasps. Teddy wanted to melt with relief and disappear in shame all at once.

“Come,” Victoire snorted, “Let me save you from these man-eaters.”