The Male Population Called Her "Hot"

(A/N: This is told from Teddy's point of view. Also, I think characterization is the most fun part and can't seem to prevent myself from elaborating!)

Chapter 1

Moment of Discovery

I was aware that Victoire was considered "hot" by most of the male population of Hogwarts. She was only in fourth year yet she'd had offers from sixth and seventh years that she'd mostly turned down. Even the Slytherins seemed to be able to overlook the fact that she was a Weasley. She'd always been able to get any guy she wanted. I suppose it's because of her great grandmother. She could turn on the Veela gift to some extent, though not quite as powerfully as her mother. It was subtler. You barely noticed it was happening and she rarely used it on me.

I'd grown up with Victoire and she'd always been just one of the guys to me. She was a tomboy in the extreme. The tie of her uniform always hung loose around her neck-she never even attempted to tie it. Her shirt was always un-tucked from her pants-not skirt, never a skirt. She always said she wouldn't be caught dead in a dress and it had been her first year, my second, since anyone had tried to argue the point. Bill and Fleur had given up when she was about four and let her wear pants to everything except weddings and other super formal occasions.

I'd never given much thought to Victoire's long, shimmering curtain of strawberry blonde hair, nor to the perfect figure and delicate features that she apparently possessed. She took after her Weasley relatives, playing seeker for Gryffindor. She always said that the Quidditch pitch was her favorite place, one of the few places where she was allowed to be herself, rather than being forced into the role of a typical female.

This had been how it was since before I can remember. She acted like my best guy friend and I treated her as such. When she got to Hogwarts, I immediately integrated her into my group of friends. She spent most the time she should have been in her dormitory in my dormitory because she said that her own roommates would force her into girl talk, girl gossip, and girl drama. She only returned after she knew her roommates would be asleep and often missed breakfast, feigning sleep until the other Gryffindor girls had left.

Victoire loved to pick fights. It wasn't that she was a bully. It was that she always felt a need to prove herself. To prove to the world that she could take on any guy and win. If a guy made a comment about her that she felt was condescending, she wouldn't bother with wands, although she could have easily jixed him into oblivion. I was all too aware of this. We'd had best friend spats that frequently got magical, and I always came off worse. But I seemed to spend a great deal of my passing periods holding her back from that day's target.

On this particular day in the middle of spring, David Berg, a Slytherin fifth-year, who'd always been very vocal regarding his distain for blood traitors, had had the nerve to hit on her. She'd gotten in enough punches to make his nose bleed before I managed to get an arm around her waist and pull her off of him, as I'd done a thousand times before, when I suddenly became acutely aware of her. Everything about her. Her abs flexing under my forearms as she struggled to get one more punch on Berg. The way her strawberry blonde tresses, pulled back in their traditional ponytail, smelt faintly of blueberries. The way the sunlight streaming in through the windows made the skin on her cheeks and forehead, tanned from hours on her broomstick, glow slightly. How the blue of her irises deepened as it got closer to her pupils. I was suddenly dumbstruck and released her. Big mistake.

I stood there, dazedly watching Victoire punch Berg in the stomach, when my friend, Alex, poked me in the ribs. I turned to see Professor Zabini, head of Slytherin waddling down the corridor, his huge girth parting the crowd like the red sea. "Crap!" I quietly exclaimed, and resumed pulling Victoire off Berg. I was dusting off her robes, blushing slightly, as she called insults at Berg, who was now lying in a fetal position, groaning slightly.

She turned to me. "What'd you do that for Teddy?" she said angrily, "I thought you were gonna let me have him."

"Zabini." I said simply.

"Fuck!" Did I mention Victoire cusses like a sailor?

She turned to Zabini. "Well?" he said. He knew of Victoire's reputation.

She turned on the full extent of her charm, her gorgeous blue eyes exuding innocence as she pulled her hair out of its ponytail. A slightly dazed expression crossed Zabini's face.

"I don't know," she said in her best you know you want to let me off voice. "He was insulting me and I guess I just snapped. I swear it won't happen again." She batted her extensive eyelashes and showed him all of her pearly white, perfectly strait teeth.

"I...guess I could let you off...just this once..." he said, dreamily.

"Oh! Thank you so much sir!" she exclaimed, and, still oozing charisma from every pore, grabbed my arm and walked towards class. I blushed deeper. I hoped she wouldn't notice. I didn't want to call attention to it by metamorphosing to make my skin paler. She noticed.

"Teddy?"

"Victoire?"

"Why are you bright red?"

Damn! I tried not to change my expression too much as I changed my face back to normal. "I'm not."

"You were until you stopped it."

"I-I guess I just find it creepy that you can charm teachers like that. I mean, Zabini's...old!"

"He's like in his thirties. But you know he doesn't see me as anything but an exceptionally good-looking student as long as I'm not dazzling him like that," she reassured me.

"You are not exceptionally good-looking," I lied.

She snorted. "If only you could convince the rest of the world. Although it did just save both our asses."

And we ran to class together just like we did everyday. We arrived a minute late to Herbology just like we did everyday. Neville, or Professor Longbottom as I was supposed to call him, ignored Victoire but glared at me as I took my seat. This wasn't him being unfair or even Victoire dazzling him. Neville had a policy that you became late if you weren't there when he called your name. I cursed the surname Lupin. Lucky for Victoire, she was all the way in the W's. Today was just like everyday before it except for one detail: I had realized that I was in love with my best friend.