Work Text:
The annual Weasley summer picnic was the perfect setting for Teddy to propose to his girlfriend of three years, eleven months, and twenty-odd days.
(Not that Teddy was counting. He and Victoire disagreed on whether their first date or snog had been the start of their relationship. While he wanted to be a gentleman about it and call their dating anniversary the day he took her out to a nice dinner in Cardiff, where his Lupin grandparents met, Victoire took a looser approach. She called their dating anniversary the date of their first snog, a good five days before that memorable first date.)
Teddy was 22, and as of last Monday, he was a newly promoted Assistant Potions Researcher at St. Mungo’s. Four years of grueling training and countless failed experiments later, he was now fully qualified to propose his own projects, rather than following orders from more senior researchers. They would be small projects—such as improving an already existing remedy—but as he gained skill and experience, he would one day embark on a cure for lycanthropy.
He would soon be making enough gold to move out of his Nan’s house and buy a small place of his own. He hoped that by next spring, he would be moving into a new home with his new wife.
Wife.
The word felt odd in Teddy’s mind, almost too grown-up for his tongue, but he was ready. He was ready three years ago, when he kissed Victoire on Platform 9 ¾, and was already missing her ahead of her seventh year. He knew, when he held her waist, flush against his body, that she was the one for him.
He hoped she felt the same, and when he saw the sweet smile on her beautiful face as she emerged from the Burrow with a petite picnic basket under her arm, Teddy rubbed his palm against the box in his pocket containing the ring he’d worked so hard to afford.
“Quick, Teddy, before Lily or Roxy come for us,” Victoire said breathlessly, shoving the picnic basket into his chest. “I took a little of everything. I don’t think they’ll notice we’ve gone yet.”
Teddy beamed at her. He had planned this from the beginning: there were no new prefects, Head Boys, or Head Girls in the family this year. Nor were there newly named Quidditch captains. The annual Weasley picnic had nothing unusual to celebrate, not even a new grandbaby, but if all went well (and if Granny Molly was as observant as usual), the family would celebrate the first new engagement in years.
“Do you remember when we were kids?” asked Teddy, as he took her hand in his. “We’d sneak off all the time.”
“We were the big kids,” Victoire replied, grinning. “But you’re the one who always got us into trouble."
"Because it was always my idea to run off with all the biscuits?”
“No, but it was always your idea to hide our treasure.”
Teddy snorted softly at the memories of all those summer days at the Burrow. He and Victoire played pirates. They took their treasure, drew a map, and often ended up on a branch that was too high that they never finished their treasure hunts. Instead, they would be out so late that they’d eat all the biscuits by themselves and get scolded for their adventures.
“So what you’re saying is,” Teddy said, “you haven’t stolen all the biscuits for us today?”
“Oh no, I took them all,” Victoire replied, with a smirk. “I can’t let our tradition go, can I?” Teddy could’ve proposed to her right then and there, on their way to their favorite tree, but he wanted to be up in the branches with her, obscured from everyone’s sight. “Now that we’re really the big kids, I took a bottle of Ogden’s Finest too.”
“This is why I love you,” said Teddy. “You’re the best— ack !”
Victoire giggled when Teddy ran face-first into a tree trunk.
“You knew that was coming! Why didn’t you warn me?” Teddy wiped away the dirt and leaves from his forehead, scrunching up his nose with the taste of bark on his tongue.
“And miss the adorably flustered look on your face?” Victoire said innocently, batting her eyes at him. “Never!”
Teddy grumbled but he found he couldn’t be really irritated with his girlfriend, not when she stopped to hold his face in her hands and kiss the spot where he’d whacked his forehead against the trunk. He couldn’t be upset with her, not when she kissed his lips, her own tinged with the sweet taste of strawberries and fresh cream.
“You were saying?” she murmured, as she rubbed her thumb against his cheek.
“I love you,” he replied roughly. “I love you too much for my own good.”
Victoire kissed him one more time and then took his hand to continue their sojourn into the orchards.
“It’s hard to believe that Kiki’s out of school now,” said Victoire. “Did she tell you that she’s going to Paris to train under Nicolas Flamel’s great-great-great-grandson?”
“That’s brilliant, and no, she didn’t tell me. How’re your parents taking it?”
“Maman’s thrilled. She’ll have even more reason to visit France. Papa’s . . . working on it.” Victoire chuckled to herself. “He knows it’s a good opportunity.”
“And you?”
“What about me?”
“How do you feel, with your sister going to Paris?” Teddy asked, arching a brow at Victoire. Dominique Weasley had succeeded where Victoire hadn’t; it had been Victoire’s dream to study alchemy with the Flamels, but her marks weren’t strong enough.
“I’ll miss her,” Victoire replied, with a little frown on her face. “I wish it had been me, but I don’t think I’d have been happy. Kiki’s already got a mountain of reading to do and she won’t have much free time.” She sighed and shrugged. “If I’d gone to Paris, I wouldn’t have been able to be with you or help Gladrags improve its designs. Gladys has even talked about me taking over the shop when all her fingers fall off . . . so I suppose it’s for the best.”
Teddy detected a hint of bitterness in Victoire’s tone. He silently agreed that going to Paris would’ve been a bad fit for her. It would’ve broken his heart to let her go, but as she hadn’t been invited to study with the Flamels, the opportunity hadn’t come up for her.
“You’ve got a bright future here,” Teddy said, squeezing her hand. “Nan says so too. She made designs for Twilfitt and Tatting’s for years and still sends them a few a year. She says yours are some of the best she’s seen and you know how she can be about robes fitting properly. She says you’ve got the potential to turn Gladrags into a real competitor for Twilfitt and Tatting’s.”
Victoire grew pink under his praise. Teddy hated how little she thought of herself at times; Victoire, Dominique, and Louis were all Ravenclaws, and while Dominique and Louis had top marks, Victoire struggled to maintain good marks. She had felt like a failure of a Ravenclaw, but it was in her artistry and creativity that she shone brightest.
They stopped when they reached their favorite tree. It was easier to climb up with magic, and easier still to widen the branch to let them sit more comfortably. Teddy helped Victoire up, his heart fluttering at the realization that his moment was close.
“We should make a toast,” said Victoire, after pulling out two glasses and filling them with firewhisky. “To you, for being promoted!”
Teddy blushed and touched the box in his pocket. It was too early for a toast. He wanted to wait, but as he opened his mouth, the branch underneath them cracked ominously.
“Teddy, I think—”
“Grab the food—"
The branch snapped beneath them with a thunderous crunch . Teddy and Victoire came hurtling down to the ground. Teddy cast a hurried charm to slow them down, and Victoire cast a charm to soften the ground beneath them.
While they fell onto soft earth, the picnic basket, and all its contents, had flown around them and burst apart.
“Ow,” said Teddy. He rubbed the back of his neck and realized part of the branch had struck him hard.
“It’s not bad,” Victoire groaned. “Just a cut.”
“Stay still—” Teddy noticed a gash on Victoire’s forehead. He waved his wand at it, which stitched the skin back together, and then quickly patted her down for any further sign of injury.
“I should do the same for you—”
Teddy reached for the ring box in his pocket to prevent Victoire from feeling it, but when he felt for it, it was gone.
“No!”
“No what?” Victoire asked, tilting her head at him. “No, you don’t want my help?”
“No—I had something in my pocket—it’s gone—”
“What was it?”
“I, erm, I can’t . . . a box?”
“A box. Why don’t you just Accio it?”
Teddy ran his hands through his hair. The ring was charmed so it couldn’t be summoned or taken from Victoire’s hand. He would have to look for it on his hands and knees.
“It’s charmed,” he replied miserably. “It’s . . . not summonable.”
Victoire bit her lip. “Is it really important?”
Teddy nodded at her. “It’s one of the most important things I own.”
“You can’t tell me what it is or what it looks like?”
“It’s a box,” Teddy said, feeling stupid. “It’s a little, black box.”
“Does it have anything in it?” Victoire asked, her brow furrowing. “Something valuable?”
“Maybe?” Teddy offered Victoire a sheepish smile. “It’s a magic thing.”
“I’ll help you look for it,” Victoire offered. “Maybe it landed somewhere in the grass.”
Teddy hung his head. If he lost the engagement ring he’d saved up for, he would rip his hair out. If he was lucky enough to find it, he’d need to re-plan his proposal, when he and Victoire wouldn’t be covered in grass, dirt, and bits of picnic food.
Victoire was already on the ground and looking for the mystery item.
“Can you tell me what the box is made of? Wood? Stone?”
Teddy hesitated. “It’s made of paper? Velvety paper?”
Victoire looked up from her earthy search. “Velvety paper?”
Not wanting to embarrass himself any further, Teddy got on his hands and knees and began crawling frantically. His legs and shorts were growing filthy; sugary pumpkin juice, the firewhisky, and biscuits had combined to leave soggy and sticky morsels everywhere on the ground. The dirt grew wet underneath his sweaty body and he brushed his hand against his brow, sure he was spreading mud across his face.
“Is that–” he gasped. A dark object was tucked underneath a fallen branch. He clambered as fast as he could to the branch and found the black box there.
But, to his dismay, there was nothing in it. The lid had snapped open and there was no ring in sight. No shiny metal looked up at him. Not even the faintest sparkle caught his eye.
He was doomed.
“Teddy! I think I found something!” Victoire shouted from a sunny spot of grass. “Come here!”
Teddy rushed over to Victoire. She was grinning from ear to ear and held something small and shiny in her hand. His heart inflated and immediately deflated when he realized she had found the shiny engagement ring and was holding it up in awe.
“It’s real treasure!” she said excitedly. “Like when we were kids! There was a ring here all this time!”
“Erm—”
“Do you think Granny and Grampy know about this? How long do you think it’s been here?”
“Vic—”
“It’s so pretty, too—what if it’s haunted, or what if it belonged to someone else—”
“Victoire,” Teddy said, taking her dirt-streaked face in his hands. “That’s my ring.”
“Y-yours?” Victoire looked down at it and back up at him. “Your . . . ring ?” She gasped when he removed his hands from her face and fell to one knee.
They were covered in dirt, leaves, and sweat. Neither of them were in any shape to return to the Burrow, but it was too late. Victoire had given up an afternoon to help him find the engagement ring, and it was rightly hers, the treasure that he had longed to give her.
“Victoire Weasley,” Teddy said solemnly, “will you marry me?”
“Of course I will!” Victoire threw herself at him and he fell back into the grass, with Victoire’s warm weight pressing down on him as she kissed him. When they surfaced for air, she looked at him, wide-eyed, with swollen, pink lips, and her freckles almost dancing on her cheeks. “Did you plan this? Was it always a treasure hunt?”
Teddy snorted loudly. “I had something much cleaner in mind. We weren’t supposed to get so filthy.”
“Who cares?” Victoire beamed and held out the ring. “Will you put it on my finger?”
Teddy nodded and slipped the ring on her hand. It sparkled in the sunshine and Victoire couldn’t take her eyes off of it.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered. “Teddy, I love you.”
Teddy glanced down at their bodies. They had green streaks of grass on their clothes, dirt crusted under their fingernails, and streaks of mud sweating down their flushed faces. Yet even now, Teddy couldn’t imagine having someone more beautiful to be his wife.
When Victoire peered up at him a moment later, her crystal blue eyes framed in long, blonde eyelashes, Teddy knew what to do. He put his hand on her cheek, rubbed his thumb along her cheekbone, and closed the space between their lips.
Victoire still tasted like strawberries, but with a hint of earth and salt. He tasted firewhisky, too, and when he felt the softness of her lips, heard the slight moan from her beautiful mouth, and felt her clutching his shirt, bringing him closer to her, Teddy had to summon all the self-control in the world to make himself part from her.
“We should go back to the Burrow,” Teddy said, groaning at the part of his brain that reminded him he was a gentleman.
“Maman and Papa!” Victoire said breathlessly. “The whole family is here! We’ve got to tell them!”
The excitement in Victoire’s eyes was just what Teddy hoped he’d see. It was the same, mischievous and electrifying look that had coaxed him into so many childhood adventures, and it was the same look that took his breath away whenever he saw it.
Teddy couldn’t help himself from kissing her again. The witch in his arms, the girl he’d dreamt of for years, had agreed to be his wife.
He couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life like this, kissing and holding Victoire in his arms, and always having her with him for their adventures big and small.