Chapter Text
Victoire Weasley was fifteen, her hair tied back in a loose tail and her left arm rigid, out to the side, as she caught her balance. The cobblestones under her feet crumbled slightly as she landed, still hot from Teddy’s spell. Victoire smiled, the dodged spell backlighting her body and flashing a shadow out into the sunny courtyard they were dueling in.
“Stupefy!” Victoire shouted, circling her wand toward Teddy and then stabbing the point at him. A thin, red blast shot wide over his right shoulder. Victoire crouched and took a few steps to her left, her smile fading but ready to dodge his rebuttal.
Teddy ran toward her, his own wand echoing her motion. “Stupefy,” he said, “Stupefy! Expelliarmus!” Two thick stunners shot over Victoire, making her duck. The third spell caught her and her wand fumbled out of her palm - she only just managed to hang on, muttering “Accio,” and tightening her fingers around the wand to stay in the fight.
She had reached the stone pillar she was running toward, and ducked behind it as Teddy slowed to a stop. “Nice one, Lupin!” she called, mocking him.
“Who taught you that, Weasley?” Teddy said, in the same tone. He started walking off to the right, trying to find a way through the courtyard fencing to put her back into his line of sight. As he moved, he heard a small pop of apparition behind him, immediately followed by a louder crack! He glanced over at Ron and George, who were suddenly there, shaking rain out of their cloaks.
“Oy! Where’s your girl?” Ron called.
Teddy grinned, still holding his wand toward Victoire’s pillar. She didn’t show her face, but he spoke loud enough she could hear him.
“Hiding, I think. Pulveris.” A small cloud of dust and sediment rose up, directed by Teddy’s wand. He drew a line toward Victoire’s hiding place, and barked “Ventus!” The spell blew the cloud forward swiftly, wrapping around the sides of the pillar and blowing soot and dust into Victoire from both sides. A quick Expelliarmus disarmed her as she sputtered from behind the pillar and dove behind a low wall.
Victoire stood up after a moment, coughing, and Teddy threw her wand back to her. Eyes watering from the dust, she caught it and walked out to greet Ron and George with hugs. She ignored her boyfriend.
“I think you’ve got Stunners down now,” Teddy told her as the four of them sat cross-legged on the stones and ate sandwiches George had produced. Ron helped Victoire clean the dust out of her hair and clothes, and Teddy leant in after a moment to kiss her cheek, casting a drying charm on her wet face. She pouted playfully, but didn’t pull away. “Your aim is pretty awful, though,” he finished with a grin.
“You’re one to talk,” she fired back, running a hand through the tail of her hair and smiling at him. “I think Teddy needs some of those training targets you and Uncle Harry use for the kids, Uncle Ron.”
Ron shrugged, trying not to take sides. “I’ll see what we can come up with,” he said, chewing. Everyone in the family knew Victoire was Ron’s favorite, and he did a lousy job of hiding it. “You guys almost ready?” Ron asked, swallowing a huge mouthful of cucumber and roast beef.
The four of them had eaten quickly and apparated over to London proper, Ron taking Victoire side-along. It was a quick jump from the courtyard in Cambridge, but Victoire still felt winded apparating. She was determined to get the hang of it, but so far hadn’t had much luck. She took a few deep breaths as they walked toward an entrance into Diagon Alley she'd not seen before, having never visited on a 3rd Tuesday.
“Are we going to have to wait long, George?” Teddy asked as they entered the Alley. “I’d love to stop by Quality Quidditch if we have time.”
“Ollivander’s runs a tight schedule, Ted,” George said. “They’re sponsoring this, so I doubt we’ll have to wait long. You can, er…” he hesitated for dramatic effect, “polish your broom on your own time.” Victoire and Teddy shared a glance. She smiled, and he blushed, George chuckling to himself.
A tall, middle-aged, athletic man was speaking to a crowd of families as the four of them entered a large, magically shielded paddock. Some of the shops in Diagon Alley had taken to housing livestock and a few magical beasts in recent years, but today the enclosure was filled with teenagers and their escorts, mostly younger-looking adults around Ron’s age.
The man speaking paused as they entered, his eyes lighting up and he skipped forward to shake Ron and George’s hands. “Awesome, you showed!” he said, glancing over at Victoire twice before settling back on Ron. “Is Luna coming?”
Ron shook the man’s hand and George clapped him on the shoulder. “Not today, Dean,” George said. “You’ll have to make do with us.”
The man, Victoire now knew as Dean Thomas from Uncle Harry’s stories, looked a little crestfallen, but recovered quickly. He turned and addressed the crowd, and shouted “let’s get dueling!”