Two long years of silence had finally come to this. This wasn't how Teddy had thought their first conversation would go, or rather, that they would ever speak again. At the end of their break up, the blond girl had made it abundantly clear that she needed space, a chance to breathe and not be suffocated—time to find herself without him hanging around. It had hurt, but not just because the formerly blue-haired young man was losing the girl he loved, but that she seemed to be so disgusted and fed up by their relationship. It had always felt so natural to him, growing from children into a couple in love, and to find out that happiness had been one-sided was devastating.

Talking about his feelings, the depression that had taken over his life in Victoire's wake, wasn't something that Teddy had been ready for. Instead of seeking out his friends and family like a normal person, he had chosen to run. Traveling around the world had seemed like a fantastic idea, as the United Kingdom had suddenly become too small, too soul-crushing and oppressive for the young metamorphagus to survive.

After hopping from country to country, taking pictures and socializing for a year, Teddy had finally returned and settled down. In the time that he had been away, the young half-werewolf had failed to deal with anything from the year before. He had simply returned to his flat, got rid of anything that reminded him of the girl who had broken his heart, and went on with life. There was no grieving, no closure, nothing special. In fact, the way he had dealt with his first break up was highly abnormal, which caused the Potter's—mainly Ginny—to worry about him quite a bit.

Teddy insisted that he was fine, though. Always fine, always happy. Never a problem.

Now that he was there with her, face to face and speaking, Teddy quickly realized what a problem his methods of healing (or lack there of) had been. He was angry with her, sorry and hopeful all at the same time, and the questions; he had so many. In his mind, he thought that Victoire owed him answers because he had always been good to her, so patient and understanding of whatever it was that she wanted to do. In the screaming and carrying on that was the prelude to their break up, Teddy had made a point to tell her that he wanted to stick around and wait for her to finish her training; she was worth it to him.

There she was, speaking, talking, answering him with a [i]yes[/i] that seemingly surprised the both of them. Perhaps she didn't hate him, perhaps she was just being polite in front of the family, who were all pretending as if they weren't watching them, as if this were a normal occurrence.

Standing there, the tightness in his chest was almost unbearable, and suddenly the enclosure of the tent felt much too warm, his ears colored slightly, blushing like a lovesick fifteen year old at the sound of her voice. This wasn't supposed to be so difficult for him, Teddy had been posturing for the majority of the night and doing his best to convince everyone that he was aloof, indifferent to her presence. Asking her to dance was already proving to be a mistake, but Teddy couldn't back down now.

Extending his hand, Teddy reached to gently take hers. It was a familiar feeling, the sensation practically burned into his memory from years before. It bothered him that it still felt right, that Victoire still managed to have this type of hold on him after being so harsh. Regardless, he saw her out to the dance floor as a soft song by the always tragic [i]Spellbound[/i] began to play. His free hand settled easily on her waist, fingers fanning the bottom of her ribcage over the fabric of her floral dress.

“I heard you were with St. Mungo's now?” he asked, attempting a bit of conversation. Teddy couldn't help but be slightly distracted, though, and he inwardly blamed her small amount of Veela blood for his inability to look away from her clear, blue eyes. “How do you like it?”

He swayed with her, dancing slowly and comfortably for now. He didn't want his emotions to get the better of him, but they were bubbling so close to the surface and still so very raw.