say-no-to-this-rp

[say-no-to-this-rp]

Sunday, 23rd of July, 2023 - Late afternoon Shell Cottage in Tinworth, Cornwall, UK Snip. Sunlight streams through the window to light up a blurry photo of two blonde girls lounging on the deck of what seems to be a boat. It lies at the top of a stack of photos. Shell Cottage is quiet, all but for the quiet ticking of the grandfather clock and the distant crashing of waves. 

Snip. Once again, scissor blades slice through the quiet, sliding through pretty paper into a flower silhouette. “C’est problématique.”  Hushed muttering in a mixture of French and English can be heard from the kitchen table. Dominique, setting down the scissors and then rummaging through the stack of photos was visibly irritated.“I need to find more photos of the three of us.” A frustrated sigh escaped her lips but was left unnoticed. If Dom couldn’t find more photos of all three of them, the scrapbook would simply be a visual humble brag of Dom and Teddy’s stupid shenanigans. “So much for a wedding present for the both of them.”  “Mooorning.” Came a drawl from the counter. Louis eyed her in amusement empty mug in one hand and a lit cigarette in the other, his back against their marbled counter. “Gone insane, have we Dominique? Talking to yourself like a raving lunatic?” “ Shut your mouth, you brat, or I’ll tell Maman and Papa that you’re smoking inside the cottage.” Dom snapped back, only superficially irritated. She was used to her little brother and his big mouth. He was charming and snarky with people outside the family, enough to have his own little gaggle of girls and boys in his year that latched onto every word of his. But to Dominique, he was always (and really, only because he acts like it) her obnoxious and bratty little brother. Said brat had likely just woken up. He was every bit of a night owl, up and about doing who knows what until the sun would rise and the nearby roosters would screech. 

At a leisurely pace, Louis filled his empty mug with cold coffee leftover from the morning pot that Fleur had left on. Idly made his way to the kitchen table. While running a casual hand through his platinum blonde hair that was now spiking up in all direction, Louis dropped himself into the chair opposite Dom. Without asking, he tugged the book to his side of the table and busied himself with the pages before Dominique could stop him, cigarette in his mouth.

There was nothing to hide about the scrapbook.The whole family excluding Victoire knew that Dominique had been working on this DIY project for the past month as a wedding present. The blonde wouldn’t consider herself as somebody who was easily flustered. Nevertheless, she was overcome with the desire to snatch the scrapbook back from Louis, as if this little book held something very private and intimate. For Teddy’s eyes only, as the realization finally dawned on her. Somewhere deep inside her, she knew that the hardest part of making the scrapbook had been including Victoire into the narrative of images. The ideal scrapbook vision that Dominique had in her head did not include her older sister in it. 

“Is this really a gift for Ted and Vic? Because if so,” Louis settled on a page with Dom and Teddy sitting at a restaurant, the cringiest, cheesiest cowboy hat on the latter’s head, and a birthday brownie with a sparkler in front of the two. Louis slid it back over with raised eyebrows. “I regret to tell you that you’re doing a shoddy job of it.” “No one asked you.” Dom pointed out.  “Really? Because your face screwed up like this,” Louis wrinkled his face in an obvious attempt to mock her, “Made me think you were begging for my advice.” “Feel free to piss off now.” Dominique raised her brows in warning, having switched to heated french now. “Don’t make me do something about that big head of yours, Louis Antoine Weasley. Also -- stop getting ash on my scrapbook.”

With a nonchalant shrug, Louis smirked, now holding the cig loosely between his index and middle finger, and replying in perfect Parisian french back. “If you ask me, maybe try a different present for our happy couple, Dominique.”

Dominique hated that Louis might be right, not that she’d ever admit it. She’d rather hang off a hippogriff butt naked and fly around the front yard of the Burrow than admit to his face that Louis was right. Okay, maybe not the Burrow. She didn’t quite want to face Grandma’s wrath. Hogwarts might work. Regardless, something inside her demanded that she finish the scrapbook. Perhaps she could just give this to Teddy as a birthday present or whatnot. It was clear that she had made the scrapbook with all intentions for Teddy, no matter how much she denied it to herself. As for a wedding present though, Dominique was now fresh out of ideas. 

She looked down at the photo of her and Teddy. All she saw was their arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders with their wicked grins. Little did she know, these wicked grins were both taunting her and telling her something that she didn’t quite understand yet of what was to come. 

Friday, 18th of July, 2023  

Lysander Scamander thought that when Dominique Weasley, Lucy Weasley, and himself were talking about having the best summer ever, he thought that meant being interns at the Quibbler. Now, in theory, an internship with all three of them sounded like a bloody brilliant idea. In reality, it meant that the three Hogwarts students were spending their summer doing the most tedious, menial jobs that could be found at the magazine. This was even despite Lysander being all but the heir of the whole damn company. And this was why the trio found themselves copy editing late into the night, two days away from their next release and not a single other soul in the office. 

Crossing one final word, Dominique leapt up after throwing down her quill in satisfaction. "I am officially the winner. Bow before me peasants. I am done and shall be leaving now. Please enjoy watching my back as I sashay out the office." 

“I always do.” Lys piped up, sliding his office chair over to peer intently at Dominique’s stack of work, a bright blue quill tucked behind his ear. “It’s a great view.”

Dominique couldn’t help but snort at her best friend.“Sure you do, Lys. Then make sure to look real close then Lys. You don’t want to miss the show.” 

Lucy, her other best friend in the entire world, groaned, "You've got to be kidding me. There's no way you're done that fast." The red-head looked up from her work to blow her hair out of her face and to promptly send a suspicious glare her cousin’s way.

“Ahh. But tis the truth, my dear Lucky.” The blonde was practically dancing as she packed her purse up. Blowing a kiss, her farewell was met with a scowl from Lucky and an easy smile from Lys. “Try not to kill each other while I’m gone.” She called back. 

Dom jumped the stairs two at a time, and burst out of the building. Having just worked more than a twelve hour work day, she was ecstatic to taste freedom. In her excitement, she almost missed the figure who was casually leaned against the side of the building. “Fancy meeting you here.” With a start, Dom caught sight of Teddy. If she were to guess, probably waiting for her outside considering he immediately tossed the cigarette from his fingers as soon as he saw her. She approached him as he ground it under her shoe. 

Taking in the number of cigarette butts on the floor, she wondered just how many cigarettes he had burned through while waiting for her.

Questioning look now. "Please tell me you haven't been waiting here for hours. I'm a big girl. I can walk home." “Not multiple hours, but more than an hour,” Teddy said cheerfully, not an ounce of annoyance in his voice, as if waiting an hour was nothing. 

Even as they spoke, the two were already walking, falling into step with each other at a leisurely pace. Now that she was in fresh summer night, she was in no rush to get home. Especially with the heat chilled from the crisp night air, Dominique was more than happy to lengthen their walk. She occupied herself with explaining to Teddy about the “joy” of copy editing a weird article on a magical healing theory from pygmy puff piss (and truthfully, teddy should really recognize what an honour and gem that he was getting such a cool sneak preview of the Quibbler’s next edition). 

When the two reach a forked road where they should turn right, the two wordlessly merely glanced at each other before shrugging and turning left instead. As they passed a park, Dom pointed at it with her thumb excitedly, already walking backwards towards it. Smirking, Teddy couldn’t help but follow along, “Yeah, alright, why not?”. 

With a squeal of delight, Dom jumped onto the swing set. Soon enough, the two had killed more than half an hour. That was simply how they always were. Chatting was as easy as breathing for the two, conversation never dulling. Both of them had settled on adjacent swings, and Dominique laughed mid-conversation as she begun to swing higher, just like she used to as a kid. Beginning to pump her legs with more strength, she met Teddy’s eyes in a daring challenge. Teddy, with a matching devilish look on his face, was already kicking his long legs in response. “Oh, yeah?” Their hoots of laughter filled the small playground. Bracing himself, Teddy jumped off the swing into the sand. 

The blonde similarly threw herself off the swing, landing just inches farther. Throwing her arms up like a gymnast executing a perfect landing, she twirled around gracefully, her face triumphant. "You're buying grub now, ye loser." Teddy is practically bowled over in laughter at this point. “How is that even possible, I have longer legs!” But he’s grinning and clearly not opposed to paying. The part-veela was doing everything but preening herself in light of her victory. "I'm nimble and athletic." Wickedly, she paused, as her grin got bigger. "Or maybe you're just getting old. Losing your touch." Dropping that truth bomb, she began to walk away quickly as if she was jokingly fleeing the scene.  Soon enough,Teddy had caught up to her, his long legs finally serving their purpose. “Old? I’m only eight years older than you!” He mock-scolded, jogging to her side, “If I’m old, you’re at least middle-aged.” Dominique couldn’t keep in her laugh as Teddy morphed his face to show an obscene amount of wrinkles, giving her the perfect elderly glare. He looked exactly like Grandmaman Delacour when one of them had done something terrible. Their laughter melded together as Teddy simply couldn’t hold back his own laughter nor his glare any longer. 

Dominique shook her head as they began to walk in some aimless direction, "I'm middle aged?” She countered. “You're the one getting married. You'll blink and there will be little Teddys and Vics. Blimey, I feel for the world already." The blonde scrunched her face at even the thought of another Victoire or another Teddy. The world was not ready.     

Teddy seemed to laugh heartily at the thought. “I do too. I was a menace, I can only imagine what my kids will be like,” He said, while shaking his head, “I don’t even want to think about it” Squinting his eyes thoughtfully up at the sky as if Teddy could magically read the time from its shade, he casually looked over his shoulder at the girl. “Shall we head back?” 

Dominique followed his gaze to the dark sky lit up by the streetlights, and relished how happy she felt. It was mundane moments like these that reminded her just how much she treasured Teddy as one of her best friends. It made his marriage to Victoire just the teensiest of bitter-sweet. Since the day she could remember, Dominique had accepted that she would be second to Victoire in Teddy’s life. No matter how close Teddy and her were, if Vic and Dom fell into the sea and only one could be saved, Dom knew in her heart who Teddy had to save. But it was nice that in moments by themselves, she could have her best friend to herself. It was just Dominique Weasley and Teddy Lupin. Them against the world. 

But of course, soon enough Victoire and Teddy will be til death do they part, and officially, everyone will be second to Victoire in every which way.

But until then, Dominique could be just a bit more greedy concerning her best friend. She merely fluttered her lashes in response to Teddy’s question. “Could we stop for shawarma? I’m ravenous.” 

Her big sister could wait for her fiance just a little longer.

Monday, 7th of August, 2023 - Late Afternoon Brew Crew Coffee Bar in Mayfair, London, UK 

“No, it’s fine, don’t bother her if she’s in a meeting. If she asks later, tell her I said I’d figure it out,” Teddy was saying, “Hey, and thanks for letting me know.”

Dominique quietly sipped her vanilla latte, noting that Teddy was growing more and more dejected as the conversation continued with Vic’s assistant. I’m not surprised that she is standing us up. It wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last. The Potter-Weasley cousins often teased Dominique when she was late (it really wasn’t her fault that make-up and the perfect wardrobe choices takes time and effort), and that they tended to plan their days around Dominique’s schedule. As much as Dom admitted sometimes it was a bit of a “Dominique’s World”, she didn’t think she could even hold a candle to when Vic wanted things her way. Dom couldn’t help but make exasperated faces at various points during the phone call, knowing that her face revealed just how umimpressed she was with Victoire. By the time that Teddy gets off the phone, Dom had finished off her latte and she set down the cup with a sigh. "I see the Queen is unable to bless us with her presence today. So are we going to figure out the cake today without Vic?" 

“If we don’t, the Queen will have our heads,” Teddy teased. At his words, Dominique tried not to make another face on impulse. It was never fair how Vic prioritized her work over their wedding. That Dominique probably knew more about the details of Vic and Teddy’s wedding than the actual bride was almost pathetic. Although trying to shake it off, Teddy was clearly still bothered by Victoire’s last minute decision to stand up her own wedding cake appointment. That was always what Teddy did when Vic prioritized everything else over Teddy. He was just determined to make the best of it. “Should we just... pick one without her?” He frowned. “Vic probably cares more about how it looks than how it tastes, anyway.” 

Dominique was more than frustrated at her sister, and at the unfairness of the situation. But it was no good if she lashed out now. In fact, Teddy was more than aware of how mad Dom felt sometimes on behalf of him at how Vic treated him. Sisters or not, Dom refused to condone her sister’s behaviour. But it’s not your place, really. She told herself. Instead, she did her best to give Teddy an easy smile. Bloody hell Vic. She’d be the cheery one here for Teddy. At least there would be one Delacour-Weasley sister here who actually cared enough. If Vic wouldn’t be excited about this wedding cake tasting, then Dom would be. "Well we have an appointment with the bakery to taste them, right? What did that queen say, Marie Antoinette was it? What did she say? Let's eat cake?" She stood up to pull Teddy to his feet. "So let's eat cake, Teddy! And if you find a cake that you can't say no to, then just pick it. Vic won't eat more than her pinky finger, anyway." 

As if her smile and enthusiasm was contagious, Dominique saw the tension leave Teddy’s shoulder, visibly watching him return to normal if only to smirk back. “Alright, lets eat cake,” he agreed. Looking down at his watch, he noted that. “We should probably run, though, before they eat all that cake themselves.“ 

The two made their way from Brew Crew to the small gourmet bakery, Kowalski Charmed, a small artisan bakery where they liked to take a very personal approach to their wedding cakes. Managing to book a tasting appointment would take forever to book. Because of that, perhaps it was better that they were still going ahead with the cake tasting. As they entered the little white building, the bells chimed above them and Dominique was immediately smothered in an overwhelming cloud of vanilla, sugar, and chocolate. The interior was colourful and pink, with displays of fresh baked goods and pictures of bright cakes lining the walls. 

The baker, a woman with long luscious brunette hair, greeted them with a smile clearly expecting them. With her American accent, she chirped, "Good afternoon, are you the happy couple here for the wedding cake taste-testing?" Hearing that, Dominique hesitated, unsure of how to introduce herself. Sorry, actually no. I’m the bride’s sister. Yes, I know it’s weird that she’s not interested in her own wedding cake, but c’est la vie, right?  She gave a quick glance at Teddy, but decided that it’d probably be best to get it over with. As she opened her mouth to correct the lady, beside her, Teddy spoke up. 

“Yeah, that’s us,” He was flashing his usual winning smile to the baker, subtly winking at Dom as she practically hit him in the face with her hair at how fast she had whipped her head back to look at him. “I hope we’re not too late?” He continued. “Bit of a mix up with the time, it was my mistake.” Oh, she knew exactly what was happening now. She had seen Teddy’s mischievous shit-eating grin more times than she could count to know it was game time.

Dom smiled politely without skipping a beat as soon as Teddy answered the baker. The only way anyone would have caught that she was startled by his answer was the slightest clenching of her jaw, and a barely noticeable tightness to her smile. Succeeding at not immediately rolling her eyes back so hard that she knocked herself out at the sight of Teddy's stupid grin, she immediately attached herself to Teddy's arm. "That's me. The fiancee." She said brightly. As soon as the baker turned her back momentarily to check which samples that they had ordered, she widened her eyes at Teddy and mouthed very obviously, "What are you doing?" .

Teddy made sure that the baker was far enough away from them not to overhear, and then whispered back, ”What makes you think I know? Play along.”  Dominique stifled a laugh, turning the sound into a slight clearing of her throat. That was right about the epitome of a Teddy answer. Many of their shenanigans really came about because neither of them ever knew what they were doing. They simply did it. Teddy was now giving her another look though. It was amazing how if you spent more than a decade with someone, you started to know exactly what their varying expressions were. This one was what Dom liked to call his “safety word” face. It was his reminder that no matter what mischief they were up to, he always wanted Dom to know that if she got uncomfortable, she could back out. Of course, in the same decade of recognizing this look, Dom had never taken him up on the offer. And she wasn’t about to start now. 

The baker returned, still oblivious to the ruse that she was unbeknownst to her had taken part in. They were led to one of the tables by the front window of the store, as she began to outline to them the process. They had requested for a full frosted cake (”Of course, the more sugary the better. I don’t need to watch my weight at all.” Dom said to the baker, entirely straight-faced.), as well as ten possible samples to choose from. 

As if a switch had flipped, Dominique was now the ever-doting, and perhaps too clingy fiancee. Her hand had moved down from his arm to his hands, intertwining their fingers. She pulled him to the table that had been set up for them, and in a sickeningly sweet voice, declared, "This way, you delicious piece of kidney pie." 

She took delight in how Teddy’s eyes went wide. Obviously surprised, he was about to burst into laughter until he managed to de-escalate it into a respectable chuckle. “Anything you say, Snuggie Woogems.” 

Dominique tried not to retch at the ridiculous pet name. It had sent a ridiculous shiver up her spine at how gross they were being, but she just couldn’t stop, especially now that his intention was loud and clear:Two can play at this game. As they sat, Teddy sat down on the same side as her and made a point of scooting his chair a little closer to hers, so he could casually drape his arm over the back of her chair.

Well-played, sir. Dominique wondered what she could do next. This was all to get back at Teddy. He had been the one who wanted to play, so they were going to have fun. The baker introducing their first cake, chocolate cappuccino torte, solved Dom’s dilemma over what her next steps would be. Dom dug her fork into the beautiful cupcake, making sure to cut an unnecessarily large chunk. Bringing the monster of a bite close to Teddy's mouth, she exhibited her voice like she was speaking in a bad Shakespearean play, "Say ahhhhhhhh, my little stud monkey." Was she using the most cringe-worthy pet names that she had ever heard? Absolutely. 

Teddy eyed the piece warily, looking as if he wanted to make a comment before he thought better of it. Dominique could almost taste it now. The delicious sweetness of victory. Shaking his head ever so slightly, he leaned in and wrapped his hand over hers on the fork. Surprised, Dominique tried not to move her hand at all. If they were soon-to-be-married, she wasn’t going to be uncomfortable with her ‘fiance’ grabbing her hand. It wasn’t even like they had never held hands. Neither of them would blink twice at it. It was the way Teddy had leaned in and bit into the cake, in a manner that one might even describe as seductively. Well, as seductively as he could with a bite of cake the size of a small fist. But Teddy somehow made it sensual. Dominique felt the strangest sensation.Teddy can make anything look sensual if he wanted to. He’s that handsome. She admitted to herself. Lucky Vic. Finally, he leaned back, removing his hand from hers and while laughing and chewing, he joked, “Maybe a smaller piece next time, Sweet Pea?” 

Eyes bright and clearly amused by Dom’s antics, they suddenly rolled down to take a closer look at the cake. “Shit, this is actually really good, you have to try this.” 

His comment broke the girl’s daze. Remembering their real task before them, Dom tried a small bite of the cupcake with her fork. The creamy goodness dragged a hum of delight from her lips. "Delicieux. Oh, this mousse is out of this world." The blonde then nudged Teddy with her elbow, "I'm not surprised. You're a sucker for anything that has caffeine in it." 

[say-no-to-this-rp]

Friday, 12th of May, 2023 - Late Afternoon

Residence of Andromeda Tonks in Lawrence Hill, Bristol, UK Teddy may live in a London flat, but home will always be a brick-faced cottage in suburban Bristol. He's has always held fast to the belief that not a single thing in his life can't be made better by ambling down Memory Lane (no, really– that's the name of the street), surrounded on either side by sweet-smelling wisteria trees, their branches full with heavy amethyst blooms, and coming up to the front drive of his childhood home.

Gran's house is a brown, brick-faced cottage with creamy shutters; picturesque in an whimsical, English Cottage Garden sort of way. The yard is framed by an old picket fence, which is being held up by a precarious combination of dumb luck and sheer willpower (and possibly a touch of a fastening charm, but if Teddy were to say as much his Gran would only deny it). The front gate drags into the ground, and you have to lift it just so if you want to open it enough to actually fit through. Teddy's offered to fix it about half a million times, but each time his Gran rejects the offer with a wave and an offhand comment about how a broken gate somehow gives the place character. One of these days, he's going to fix it behind her back, and play dumb when she points a finger. Who, me? His Gran won't buy it for a second, but hey, at least he would have to hop the fence each time he comes through.

The path from the gate is made of flagstones, spaced in an eclectic, winding trail that circles the yard before leading to the front porch. Each stone is worn smooth from years of hopping from one to the other as a child, pretending the mulch was molten lava. Following the pathway means getting a full tour of the garden, which is positively bursting in with hollyhock, foxglove, roses, and peonies. There's a long-limbed tree in the middle of the yard, its branches just within reach of his childhood bedroom (he knows from experience), with a knotted face in the trunk that Teddy has always thought looked like a laughing woman. The nostalgia of retracing this familiar path is unbeatable, no matter how many times he follows the familiar circle to the front door. After all, Teddy grew up in this garden. According to his Gran, so did his Mom. Teddy lets himself into the front door with the spare key under the statue of a friendly garden gnome pushing a wheelbarrow, and sets it on a table in the entrance room. He can already pick up on the smell of curry permeating the air, laid over the ever-present aroma of lavender and sage that saturates every memory Teddy has of his grandmother. "Gran?" he calls out, as he hangs his coat on one of the brass knobs by the door. A moment later, the crisp, crystalline voice of his Gran answers back: "Kitchen!" He passes through the sitting room, which he's always thought had a suspiciously misleading named given that no one is actually allowed to sit there except on Christmas, and shoulders through the swinging door to the kitchen. Sure enough, his Gran is at the stove, sleeves rolled past her elbow, apron covered in flour. She's folding butter into raw dough, but pauses to smile at him over her shoulder. "You're late," she chides, but there's no heat to the words, only affection. "Hello to you too," Teddy says with a grin, giving her a kiss on the cheek on his way to the sink. "What's the Flaky Pastry for?" "Not for you," his Gran tells him, giving him a pointed look, "I'm going to a dinner party tomorrow, and thought I'd make palmiers. You're helping." "Oh, am I?" Teddy says with a good-natured roll of his eyes, before soaping up his hands. "Sass isn't cute, young man," his Gran tells him, repeating one of her many age-old wisdoms. Or at least, what pass as wisdoms, in the Tonks household. Sometimes the line between a wisdom and a pet peeve is somewhat blurry, when it comes to Andromeda Tonks. "Who's sassing? I was just making a simple observation." His Gran makes a small noise that might have passed as a snort if she weren't too much of a lady for it. "Who raised you to be such a menace?" "Hmm..." Teddy pretends to wonder, rinsing his hands and shutting off the water with his elbow, "I think it might have been my menacing grandmother?" The pair of them spend the next hour alternating between grating, chopping, simmering, and stirring the coconut curry they'll be having for dinner, and twisting garlic, rosemary, and red pepper flakes into swirl-shaped flaky pastries for his Gran's party the next day. They pass the time chatting about the last two weeks, catching each other up on everything that's happened since their last Bi-Monthly Get Together. Teddy tells his Gran about Dom's latest scrapbooking prank with the hot pink faux fur, and his Gran tells him about a new recipe she's found and will be wanting to try the next time they get together; he talks about his job hunt finally turning up a teaching position at Hogwarts, and she talks about the certain someone from her Book Club she's started seeing. It isn't until they're sitting down to eat, and Teddy finally brings up the wedding planning, that his Gran's mouth pulls into a frown, and she falls uncharacteristically silence. Teddy sighs. He thought she'd be over this by now; goodness knows they'd already put each other through the ringer for it. "I thought you liked Victoire." "Don't be daft. It's not about her and you know it," his Gran tells him with another sigh. Almost to herself, she adds, "It's like you hear me but don't listen." "I listen," Teddy says, with the indigence of a frustrated child, chasing a chunk of an onion around his plate. "Then stop pretending you don't," his Gran snaps. She sighs with frustration, setting her fork down against her plate. "I don't want to argue during dinner." "I don't see why we have to fight about this at all," Teddy says heatedly, "I can't just pretend I'm not getting married, Gran. I am marrying Victoire." "And less than a year ago, you were leaving Victoire," his Gran says, punctuating it with a look that all but dares him to disagree. "Victoire is a brilliant young woman with a bright future ahead of her. And you are a brilliant young man with a bright future ahead of you. But I don't see the same bright future for the pair of you." "I know all this, Gran, because we talked about this. And we agreed to disagree about this. I shouldn't have to walk on eggshells around the woman who raised me, because she doesn't like that I'm getting married to my high school sweetheart." His grandmother sighs, turning away from him suddenly and staring at a vase of peonies set out by the window. The seconds tick by, and Teddy watches them go one by one on the clock above the door, knowing better than to draw her from her thoughts prematurely. After a while she dips her head, like a nod to herself, and meets his eyes, pinning him in place with sharp eyes the exact same color as his own. Teddy braces himself for another argument, but gets none. Instead, his grandmother does the unexpected: "You're right. I am happy for you... I want you to be able to tell me about the wedding." An olive branch if he ever saw one. Teddy grins. "Well, we finally picked the venue out the other day...?" Dinner runs without any further hiccups, but when Teddy leaves for home that night, there's a buzzing in the back of his head he can't seem to suppress no matter how hard he tries. He can't quite put a finger on what it could be no matter how hard he tries... and by the time morning comes, the buzzing has all but slipped away, forgotten.

Monday, 7th of August, 2023 Early Morning Residence of Teddy Lupin and Victoire Weasley in Westminster, London, UK Teddy sits with his cup of coffee at the kitchen table, pretending to skim this morning's edition of the Daily Prophet while Victoire hogs the bathroom for forty-five minutes. What she does in there is a total mystery to him. What he does know is every morning she steals away into it like a thief in the night, and he spends an hour waiting impatiently to be allowed to pee in his own house. Another ten minutes go by before Victoire comes into the kitchen, looking like one of Witch Weekly's centerfolds and smelling like the same perfume she's worn since she was sixteen (if prompted, Teddy could also tell you it's called Passion Potion, costs five-hundred sickles for a bottle the size of his thumb, and is actually mixed with a few drops of Amortentia to appeal to anyone who happens to pass within whiffing distance). She sinks into the seat next to him without a word, holding out an expectant hand, which he dutifully places the business section of the paper into. As Victoire reads, she twirls her wand over her shoulder, where the kitchen is; Teddy watches her favorite mug slide itself out of the cabinet and place itself onto the Keurig, which resets itself with a new cup before starting all on its own. Teddy was raised to put a little elbow grease into everything he does, and feels it has kept him humble and given him a basic understand of how and why things work; Victoire, on the other hand, is the sort of woman who will streamline anything and everything, and when something comes up, not only does she know a spell for it but she has mastered said spell beautifully. A difference they love and hate about each other. Their relationship is almost characterized by love-hate, come to think of it. With a small smirk to himself, Teddy thinks, 'Love keeps us going, hate makes the sex good.' He does not say this aloud. Mostly because Victoire wouldn't think it was funny. "Today's the cake appointment, yeah?" he says instead, and Victoire turns the page of the paper before glancing up at him with those gorgeous blue eyes of hers. "Is that today?" Teddy raises an eyebrow at her. "At four. Don't tell me you forgot." "That's what Assistants are for, yes?" she answers with a shrug, leaning back to accio her coffee. She drinks it black. Teddy admittedly has to fight the frown very hard, but he does win out in the end. Assistants have, historically speaking, been satisfying a lot more than Victoire's schedule. Or, more accurately, one Assistant had been. But he was supposed to have forgiven her for that... And besides, this is a different Assistant, a new hire named– he thinks it might be Opal? "Not excited about cake?" Victoire shrugs again, before turning back to her paper. "I'm supposed to be watching my figure, Teddy." "Your figure is gorgeous," he points out, but Victoire's answering look lets him know that he's missing the point again. Cheerfully, he thinks, 'Well I'm excited enough for both of us.' "I have a meeting at two, but it should be done well before then. I'll be there." The rest of the morning passes quietly, lasting only for as long as it takes Victoire to finish her coffee. It's not an uncomfortable silence, though Teddy has always been the sort of man to prefer conversation to quiet, but something about it unnerves him. So much so that he's completely unable to read a single sentence of the paper, and is almost relieved when she folds her section of the paper onto the table. Victoire leans in to kiss Teddy's cheek, as she does ever morning before she heads out, and says, "I will see you after work." "I'll see you at the cake shop," he says with a grin. Victoire only half-smiles (the smile she gives him when she doesn't think he's as cute as he thinks he is, but is trying placate him) and shakes her head: "That's the same thing, Teddy." Almost as soon as the door has closed behind her, Teddy is on his feet. He stretches, moves across the room to the kick on the radio, and blasts Top 40 Hits while he gets ready for the day.

Late Afternoon Brew Crew Coffee Bar in Mayfair, London, UK Teddy and Dom are sitting across form each other at Brew Crew Coffee Bar, which would normally be a totally average, fun thing for them, if Teddy wasn't glancing at his watch every few minutes and wondering aloud why Victoire wasn't here yet. The three of them had agreed to meet at the coffee shop at 16:15, because the appointment was at 16:30 and the shop is close enough that they'd have enough time to order some drinks and walk over. Only 16:15 came and went, and Dominique showed and Victoire didn't. Teddy's called Victoire's office, and gotten the plummy voice of her new Assistant, telling him I'm sorry but she's unavailable, Mr Lupin and she's in a meeting, Mr Lupin and would you like to leave a message, Mr Lupin? Which good on her for not taking his shit, but also, Victoire isn't supposed to be in a meeting she's supposed to be here. He glances at his watch and reads 16:46. And sighs. 'Victoire's job is her priority,' Teddy thinks, 'You know this about her. You like this about her. It's not personal, this is just how she is.' "Should we go in without–?" he starts to say, but isn't even able to finish the thought before the phone in his back pocket starts ringing. He gives Dom a knowing look, which says guess who that could be, before he reaches to answer it: "Speak of the devil." "Hello, Mr Lupin?" Teddy pulls the phone back to stare at it in disbelief, as if that will somehow convey his feelings across the line. It's not even Victoire, it's her Assistant. Is this what it feels like to be punked? Is that what's going on here? "Mr Lupin?" "Hey, yeah, sorry. Vic leave her phone at the office on her way out?" Teddy asks, hitting the speaker button and holding it between him and Dominique, so she could hear the conversation. Teddy knows, logically, that Victoire hasn't actually left yet. He knows she isn't going to leave. If Victoire had intended to be here, she'd have been here thirty minutes ago. On time. "Ms Weasley wanted me to inform you she won't be able to make it. She's in an important meeting which has unfortunately run over, and simply can't get away," the Assistant says, voice crisp and carefully neutral. Teddy nods along, even though she clearly can't actually see him through the phone line. "Yeah, alright," he says, already resigning himself to his fate, "Did she say if she wanted us to go on without her, or did she need us to reschedule?" Another small hesitation. "She didn't actually say one way or the other... Would you like me to ask for you, Mr Lupin?" "No, it's fine, don't bother her if she's in a meeting. If she asks later, tell her I said I'd figure it out," Teddy says, "Hey, and thanks for letting me know." "Of course. Have a lovely rest of your day, Mr Lupin." The line disconnects, and Teddy stares at the phone as if it were a crystal ball that had failed to answer any of his questions. This isn't the first time Victoire has skipped out on wedding planning. This isn't even the firs time this week she's skipped out on it. 'This isn't personal. She's not skipping out, you asshole, she just can't make it,' Teddy reminds himself. Victoire's busy. She works hard, she has a hard job, it makes sense she'd get caught up in it sometimes. This doesn't mean their wedding isn't important, or that she doesn't care. It is, and she does. Today just wasn't meant to be. "Welp," he says finally, fully prepared to make the best of this, and looking over at his fiancé's little sister (and to be quite honest, one of his best friends) with a playful smirk, "Guess it's just you and me again, Dom."

[say-no-to-this-rp]

[say-no-to-this-rp]

for future reference

[say-no-to-this-rp]

filler filler filler 

[say-no-to-this-rp]

lalalala

[say-no-to-this-rp]