Getting a Clue by abok1972

I offer my hand to Camille.

"I'm Victoire Weasley," I say, as she looks at me, shaking my hand with sort of a deer-in-the-headlights expression on her face.

She continues to stare, saying nothing, and I look at Teddy, thinking I may need to take a different approach. He shrugs. Oh you're no help.

"Bonjour, mon nom est Victoire Weasley. Il fait si beau de vous rencontrer, Camille." She smiles then, albeit weakly, and I groan inwardly at the prospect of daily French. I mean, that was just a simple, Hello, my name is Victoire Weasley. It is so nice to meet you, Camille, and already my head hurts. Great. Maman will be thrilled, though. I can hear her now. "Eet ees a preveelege to speak two langueeges, Victoire! You must keep practeesing!"

"Je suis désolé. Je suis si nerveux simplement. Veuillez me pardonner, Victoire." She just said I'm sorry. I'm just so nervous. Please forgive me, Victoire. I nod my head at her. Okay, my Français is returning. I can do this. It's just like riding a bike, this bilingual stuff.

I realize that Teddy is looking at me like I've grown another head. He probably thinks his whole plan of making me less selfish has backfired. Which, of course, it has. I'm not selfish, as he'll see when I transform this poor girl into the epitome of elegance and sophistication.

"What?" I turn to give him a glare. "Haven't you ever seen two people talk before, Teddy? I'm trying to do what McGonagall and you asked me to do, you know."

"N-no," he stammers, looking a little flustered. "That's not it. I-I just forgot that you can speak French, that's all." I quirk my eyebrow at him. He continues, his cheeks a little pink. "Speaking more than one language, that's just-."

"Sexy as hell- that's what," says Zane Smith, coming up beside us. He slings his arm over my shoulder. "Lupin." Zane nods in Teddy's direction.

"Actually, I was going to say it was really cool," says Teddy, giving Zane a menacing look. Cool? Really?I give Teddy a small smile, which he returns, albeit a little sheepishly before resuming to glare at Zane.

Zane Smith is a sixth year Ravenclaw. His father is incredibly well-connected at the Ministry, and his uncle owns a professional Quidditch team. He has light blond hair, amazing green eyes, and is extremely good looking. He's one of the few boys I'd consider to be acceptable dating material at Hogwarts. Not for me, of course. I don't feel that way about him. However, I'd approve if one of my friends dated him.

I shrug out of his embrace, and give him a smile. "Zane, I'd like for you to meet Camille Sovier. Camille, je vous présente-"

Camille stops me, and then leaning in, she whispers, "I can speak English. Sorry, I was just so nervous, and my French kicked in." She's still red, but at least she's speaking English.

Oh. Well, then… "Camille, this is Zane Smith." Zane gives her a nod, and then surprises me by kissing her hand. "Charmed," he says, flashing her a toothy smile. Camille blushes even more, if that’s even possible, and smiles back. Hmm, do I sense a connection?

Teddy snorts, and gives me a look that clearly says ‘I can't believe this arsehole,’ and excuses himself to class. He can be so impolite sometimes.

"Shall I escort you beautiful ladies to your first class?" Zane offers us an arm apiece, and Camille and I loop ours through his, putting him in the middle.

"That would be lovely," I say, as we make our way to Transfiguration, a plan already forming in my brain.

After classes, I'm lying on my bed, watching Camille unpack her trunk. It's strange for me to see her putting her things where Lena's normally go, but in all reality, I'm glad she's here. It's going to be so fun, helping Camille.

Camille's been issued some Hogwarts robes and other uniform essentials, but with a tie of solid, pale blue, which is the official color of Beauxbatons. I guess they want her to fit in, yet stand out too. Whatever.

I check out her other clothes, and realize that I have lots of work to do. She has plenty of denims, but they all look extremely baggy, and she has absolutely nothing in the way of accessories. Her dress robes are passable, I suppose, but Merlin! The poor thing only brought three pairs of shoes. Three. Trainers, small black heels, and a sad little brown pair to wear with her uniform. Thank goodness I'm here.

"Camille," I say, as she arranges her toiletries on her dressing table. "How come you don't have a French accent?" I noticed this earlier. Even Maman, who has lived in England since she was eighteen, still speaks with a slight accent.

"My mother is English," she replies, coming over to sit next to me on the bed. "Papa is French, and we have homes in both places. I spend almost all of my time in England when I'm not at Beauxbatons. My maternal grandparents just bought a home in Highbury, which is where I spent last summer."

Well. This is completely unexpected. She's basically British! And, her upbringing sounds surprisingly familiar.

"My mother is French, and my father is English!" I exclaim to her, excitedly. "We have so much in common!" Well, except for the fact that her hair and clothes are a mess. But I'm going to fix that.

I quickly size her up. Her red hair, now down, is shoulder length, and has a bit of curl to it. Promising. Her freckles are not too dark, and her eyes are a lovely shade of brown. She has a nice build- curvy, but not chubby, although she is a bit on the short side, just under 5'4". Of course, since I'm 5'9", I consider anything under 5'7" short. Her voice is quiet, but after spending the day in class with her I've decided that she's not shy. Just a little unsure of herself. And that's where I come in.

"Victoire," says Camille, interrupting my mental assessment. "I just wanted to say thanks for being so nice to me." She picks at the bedspread and shyly meets my eyes. "I mean, I know it must be hard to be stuck with me and everything, and I appreciate you being decent about it." She gives me a small smile.

"Don't be silly, Camille," I assure her. "I'm certainly not ‘stuck’ with you. I like you, and I'm glad you're here." I give her my brightest smile.

I do feel a slight pang of guilt over my early objections to her being my roommate and to Teddy picking me to be her student guide. She really is sweet, and helping her is going to be the crown jewel of all of my good deeds. And the best part is this: I'm going to help her find true love in the process.

After seeing Zane's behavior with Camille earlier today, I've decided to play matchmaker again. I am brilliant at it, you know. I mean, they are so right for each other, and being with the right boy is essential for your social status. If you choose to date a Hogwarts boy, that is. Which of course I wouldn't do.

Yes, Camille, I'm going to transform you, and Zane Smith won't know what hit him. The two of you will be a perfect match. They’ll be just like Neville and Hannah. And Ethan and Lena. Well, before Ethan and Lena broke up anyway.

Camille stands. "So, is it dinnertime yet? I'm getting hungry." She heads for the door.

I quickly stand and grab a hairbrush and my makeup bag. "Not quite time yet, Camille." I walk toward her. "Would you care if I played with your hair just a little before we go downstairs? It's such a nice color, and I have a couple of beauty charms I'd like to practice." I give her my most sincere look, with just a hint of puppy dog eyes. No sense in over playing my hand just yet.

Camille raises her eyebrows- I've got to tweeze those!

"Well, okay," she replies tentatively. “I can't imagine you needing to know any beauty charms, though, Victoire. I mean, I've only been here a day, and even I can see the way people look at you." She sits down in front of the mirror.

"Well, I do have a reputation for style and fashion," I say modestly as I brush her hair. "However, I think it's more about confidence and poise than anything else."

"How so?" Camille looks at me, puzzled.

Why is it so hard for these girls to understand that looks aren't everything?

"It's like this," I say, picking up my wand and uttering an incantation. Camille's hair instantly falls into soft waves down below her shoulders. I rummage through my makeup bag, and apply a bit of powder and blush to her cheeks. I pull out my tweezers and work on her eyebrows, and then I finish with a bit of mascara and a slight pink gloss to her lips. She looks at herself in awe.

"I look so good!" she exclaims, staring back and forth between me and her reflection with wonder.

"Yes, you do," I reply with a smile as I put away my makeup. "But, looking good is just a part. If you want to be noticed, then the way you carry yourself is equally important, and the people you surround yourself with must be the essence of class and style as well." I pat her on the hand. "We'll talk more about that later." I don't want to overwhelm her.

As Camille admires herself, she glances over and sees my easel and paints in the corner.

"Do you paint?" she asks, with a note of admiration in her voice.

"Well, yes," I say modestly. "Would you like to see my portfolio?"

She nods, so I grab it from the bottom of my trunk, and flip it to some of my landscapes and still lifes. She admires them, especially one that I painted last summer of the sand and sea, with Shell Cottage in the distance. It's one of my favorites, too, always reminding me of home.

She turns the page to see some of the portraits I've done, stopping on a set of miniatures I did of my family.

"This is Maman and Dad," I say, pointing at the small painting of my parents.

"You look exactly like your mother," says Camille.

"And these are my aunts and uncles," I say, pointing to two separate paintings. I actually painted these from some photos I took, since no one had time to sit for a portrait. In the one of my aunts, Hermione and Ginny have their arms linked and occasionally look at one another and laugh. You can tell how close they are, and I captured it perfectly, if I do say so myself.

Camille peers closely at the portrait of my uncles. "Merlin, Victoire! That's Harry Potter!" She looks at me incredulously. "He'syour uncle?"

I smile and nod. In the painting, Harry, Ron, George, Percy, and Charlie all have their arms crossed and scowls on their faces, and then they suddenly turn to one another and laugh. I'm supposed to show this to any potential boyfriends to let them know what they're up against, or so I was told when I snapped the photograph. I was bored one day, so I took the photograph out and decided to paint it.

"I don't suppose he ever comes and visits this painting?" asks Camille hopefully.

I laugh. "Silly, he's not dead. Only the dead can communicate in their portraits. These paintings just move around a bit after I've finished them, just like a wizarding photograph," I explain to Camille.

"Oh yes, of course," she says, with a hint of embarrassment. "I knew that, I suppose. It just threw me for a second. I mean, you're related to Harry Potter!" She looks at me with wonder.

It always throws people when they figure out I'm related to the family that defeated the most evil wizard in history. I should be used to it by now, I suppose. Wait till she finds out that Teddy actually lives with Uncle Harry. I decide to save that for another time, as it's really time for dinner now.

"Ready to go?" I motion to the door.

"Hmm?" Camille answers, still studying my portraits. I notice that she's looking at an unfinished sketch of Teddy. I started working on it when I was in Paris, and since I didn't have a photo of him, it was all from memory. And, I must say, it's a pretty good likeness so far. Teddy's image must be burned on my brain or something.

"Is Teddy your boyfriend?"

"What?" What?

"You know, Teddy. Really cute. Head Boy."

Is she messing with me?

I roll my eyes. "Uh, no, Teddy's not my boyfriend. He's my...my-"

I stop, not really knowing how to classify our relationship. A moment passes, and then I try to explain.

"He's like family to me. You know, the annoying older cousin/brother type who knows you better than anyone and likes to get under your skin. I've known Teddy since I was born. He's Harry's godson, actually."

"Really?" says Camille. I can see she's impressed. "I just thought, you know, from the way he described you when he told me that he wanted you to be my student guide, that he was your boyfriend or something. And then, when I saw that you had a sketch of him..." Her voice trails off.

The way he described me? What could he have said?

"That's okay, It was an honest mistake," I tell her with a smile, holding back a giggle at the very thought of me and Teddy together like that. I mean, he would never think of me that way. I annoy him too much.

However, something Camille said has piqued my interest. I try to be casual.

"So, how did Teddy describe me?" I mean, I can't help but be curious.

Camille closes my portfolio and hands it to me. "Oh, well basically he said that not only were you the most beautiful and popular girl here at Hogwarts, but a good person, and I was lucky to be getting you as my guide." Really?

"Oh." I clear my throat. "We'd better get down to dinner." I stow my portfolio in my trunk and we leave for the Great Hall, my thoughts still swimming with Teddy's compliments.

One thing I notice when we enter the Great Hall is that there is a small crowd gathered around Aimee Devereaux, the other Exchange student. She was in a few classes with me and Camille today, but I haven't gotten a good feel for her yet. I guess you could call her pretty, if you like that whole porcelain doll look. Which, judging from the stares she's receiving from some of the boys, they do. She doesn't seem to be basking in the attention, but she's not sending them away either. I wonder if she's the type of girl who plays with boys' emotions. I hate girls like that. I make a mental note to ask Camille about her later.

I notice my brother Louis and cousin James keep whispering and glancing over at her a lot. I excuse myself from Camille for a moment, and walk over to where the two of them are huddled together. I tap Louis on the shoulder.

"What's the big secret, baby brother?" I look between him and James.

"Nothing," says Louis. At the same time James says, "Just checking out the hot new girl."

"Boys!" I admonish them. "You are eleven and twelve years old. She's way too old for you!" I give them a very disapproving look, channeling every bit of Grandma Weasley that I can.

"Well, yeah Victoire, we know that. She's just nice to look at, you know?" Louis gives me his best baby-of-the-family grin. Oh, he is so my brother, trying to win me over with his smile.

"And," continues James excitedly, "she's not related to us like you are. So when boys talk about her, we don't gross out like when they talk about you." At this, they give one another a high-five. Well, I guess I can't argue with logic like that. But I still don't like all this attention she's getting. Especially if she's just a tease. I walk away and sit by Camille.

We're just finishing our dessert when it happens. Camille grabs my arm and gasps. I look over at her, and she's as white as a sheet. I notice she's staring in the direction of the Hufflepuff table, and has locked eyes with Will Martin.

"What?" I ask her. "Camille, what's wrong?" I'm getting no answer, just like this morning. I'm about to start speaking in French again when she replies.

"Is that," she hisses, "Will Martin?" She is holding my arm so tightly that there are marks.

"Yes," I hiss back at her. "Why? Do you know him or something?"

"Merlin's pants! He's coming over here!" Camille looks like she's going to pass out. Merlin's pants?

Sure enough, Will is making his way over to us.

I don't know too much about Will Martin, except that he's in Hufflepuff and is one of Neville's best students. He's supposedly the best Herbology student since Neville himself, which, I suppose, is saying something. He's always at the Greenhouses and constantly has dirt under his fingernails and on his clothes. Will's okay-looking I guess, with brown hair and eyes and kind of a stocky build. He's my height too, so he’s definitely too short- at least for me.

Apparently, Camille doesn't share my sentiments, because she's gazing at him like he hung the moon.

She stands, and so do I, anxious to watch this drama unfold.

"Will," she starts, "I-I can't believe you're here. I mean, I didn't think-"

"I know," Will says, looking at her with a dazed expression. "When they called your name this morning, I couldn't believe it. And then, it was like you disappeared. I've been hoping to run into you all day."

Merlin's pants, indeed. As I watch the two of them, I have but one thought. How am I supposed to match up Camille and Zane with Mr. Dirty Fingernails in my way? I don't like this at all.

I decide I need more information.

"So, how do you two know one another?" I motion back and forth between them.

Camille finally registers that I'm still standing there. "Oh! Victoire, sorry! You two know each other, right?" She points to Will, and then me.

I hold back an eye roll and nod. She continues, sounding breathless. "Will lives right next door to my grandparents in Highbury. Remember, I told you I spent my summer there?"

Ah. "Yes, that you did." I raise my eyebrows.

"Anyway, we spent a lot of time together. He was working on all kinds of plants, trying to come up with new varieties and things like that." Her eyes are shining with admiration. "He's like some kind of genius when it comes to Herbology."

Will looks pleased and a little embarassed by her praise. "Well, it's not that big of a deal, really. I mean, all you have to do is cross-pollinate..."

I immediately tune him out. No. This is not in the plan. Camille deserves to be with a proper boy, one without dirt on his robes. Someone who can take her to parties and events, one who's family is well connected. She needs to be with someone like Zane. This will not do.

"...and then it's just a matter of proper watering and fertilizing. Quite simple, really," Will finishes, smiling with delight at Camille's attentiveness.

"Yes, fascinating," I reply dryly, turning my attention to Camille. "We really should be heading back, we've lots of homework." I take her elbow and start moving past Will.

"Oh, right," says Camille, disappointment evident on her face. She looks at him apologetically. "Sorry. I guess I'll see you later, then Will."

Will takes her other arm, the one I'm not holding. "How about I meet you two in the library? We can all study there." He flashes Camille a hopeful smile.

"That would be gr-," starts Camille, before I interrupt.

"I think we should stay close to Gryffindor Tower tonight, Camille." I give her a firm look. "I mean, you just got here, and you're not even completely settled. Between that and our homework, we have so much to do." I give Will an apologetic look, but I don't think he's buying it.

"Well," he says slowly, "at least let me walk you back to Gryffindor Tower, then." He smiles brightly at Camille, and before I can protest, they're walking away from me.

What the hell?How can I be in charge one minute, and then watch my plan disintegrate before my eyes the next?

I begin to follow, and then hear footsteps behind me. I turn to see Teddy jogging to catch up with me.

"Hey," he says, smiling. "How'd it go today?" He's changed from his school uniform into his Quidditch practice gear. Teddy's one of the Gryffindor Chasers. They must've had practice before dinner. He smells like grass from the pitch, and something spicy that I always identify with him.

"Fine. Just great." I answer, snippily.

"What's wrong?" Teddy is looking at me with a very sincere expression, his blue eyes concerned, almost like he cares or something.

"Nothing," I sigh. "It's just Camille. I have all these wonderful plans for her, and she..." I motion ahead of us, pointing to Camille and Will. I can't even form the words. Teddy chuckles.

"Oh never mind!" I snap at him, frustrated. "You wouldn't understand!" I stalk away from him.

"Victoire!" He catches up to me quickly. Damn him and his long legs. At 6'3'', Teddy is definitely taller than me.

I turn to look at him, ready to fight- and then I see the expression on his face. He's confused, obviously, but there's something else there that I just can't place. Is that hurt?

I'm immediately ashamed of myself. Especially when I remember the nice things Teddy said to Camille about me. He said I was a good person.

I sigh, and apologize. "Sorry, Teddy. I'm just frustrated, and I took it out on you." I meet his eyes. He really has the longest lashes.

There's a smile twitching the corner of his mouth. "It's okay."

We turn the corner in companionable silence. I see Will walking back to Hufflepuff, having just dropped off Camille. I sigh.

"You know, Victoire," Teddy says, as we approach the portrait hole, "Will Martin is a good bloke. Camille is lucky to count him as her friend."

"But-"

"But nothing. Let them be." He gives me a stern look as if he's reading my mind. I'm about to retort, when he says, "Camille's lucky to have you too, though."

"How so?" I give him a quizzical look. I think Camille's lucky to have me too, but probably not for the same reason Teddy does.

"Well, you've only known the girl a day, and you obviously care about her. That makes you a good friend."

"Oh, so now I'm a good friend and a good person?" I give him a teasing grin.

Teddy winces. "She told you I said that, huh?"

"Yes, and that I'm beautiful and popular too." I love how uncomfortable he looks right now.

"Well, there'll be no living with you now," Teddy mutters, and I laugh.

He continues, now laughing too. "Shut up. You know you're gorgeous, right?" He grins back at me, with a faint blush on his cheeks, his blue eyes twinkling.

My stomach does an uncharacteristic flip. What the hell was that?

Teddy clears his throat. "Well, this is you." He motions toward the common room. "I'm going back to the Head rooms." Oh. I sometimes forget that Teddy doesn't reside exclusively in Gryffindor Tower anymore.

"Oh. Okay, then. See you later." I tell him.

"See you, Victoire." I watch him walk away, feeling strangely unsettled. I quickly attribute it to all of my new stress with Camille.

That has to be it.

I enter the portrait hole, where I find Camille waiting for me in the common room.

A/N: Many thanks to Winged Talon for the beta. Leave a review and tell me what you think. Concrit is welcome.