Their bodies still fit together like a puzzle, and it made Teddy sick with nostalgia to think that after all this time, there was something there for him. Asking Victoire to dance was proving to be a bigger and bigger mistake for as long as the two of them held one another, swaying to the soft music. Several times after their parting, Teddy had tried to convince himself that the relationship would not have worked out anyway, that they were too young, too inexperienced for things like love and devotion. In that same thought, though, Teddy would recall [i]knowing[/i] that the blond girl was the one at only the tender age of sixteen. Those same feelings had never left, they just meant something different now.

Teddy didn't think that Victoire sounded overly excited or thrilled with her work at the hospital, which left a bitter taste in his mouth since that was a large part of why they had broken up. He wanted to say something about it, but there was no sense in causing a scene, especially not when the family was inconspicuously waiting with baited breath for a row to break out. 

“Congratulations,” said Teddy, his voice neutral. At the very least, he could be proud of her for accomplishing her goals. “Healing is...noble. Good for you.” Victoire was giving, and considerate, so her career choice had always made sense to him. The choice had never been the problem.

As they danced, Teddy found himself hyperaware of her hand on his shoulder, and her delicate fingers clasped in his own. It was agony and bliss all at once, and still, Teddy was unable to deduce just one of his feelings. They were all mixed together, washing over him like violent waves before a storm. In sharp contrast, Victoire seemed fine, completely unaffected and only dancing with him in order to be polite. It had been foolish of him to hope that she hadn't moved on, and to think that he wasn't alone in his silly pipe dream of [s]getting back together[/s] having closure.

His internal, downward spiral was interrupted when Victoire turned the question around on him, her bell-like voice burning his ears as they danced. “I work for the paper now, the Prophet,” he explained. “It's mostly pictures, but I travel a lot. Sometimes I write the sports column.” He felt [i]too[/i] chatty with that explanation, sure that Victoire didn't really care what he had been up to. Teddy assumed that she didn't read the paper, or else she would have come across his name on an article every now and then. 

Although Teddy had never expected to write for the Daily Prophet, he had done his fair share of hard-hitting pieces; a handful of which he was truly proud of. Taking his career seriously had been the first step to adulthood and it was staggering to think how much he had changed—how much they had both changed.