Teddy Lupin x Victoire Weasley.
Teddy Lupin was an orphan. He'd been an orphan for as long as he could remember, and before even that.
His parents had died together, on the same day as about fifty other people, and Voldemort himself. Just inside Hogwarts was a memorial with all their names inscribed.
To honour them, Harry always said.
Teddy was sat looking at that very castle at this very moment, his back against a thick tree, the sun setting and the grounds falling into shadows.
His godfather, Harry, had once told Teddy that Hogwarts was his very first home; the first place he could remember being happy, remember belonging. Harry, Teddy knew, had been brought up by his aunt and uncle who neither loved him nor wanted him.
It must, Teddy assumed, have been very lonely.
Teddy wasn't brought up unloved or unwanted. On the contrary, he lived with his grandmother - his mum's mother - who loved him a lot. He often stayed with his godfather, or friends of his godfather or parents.
He was, he knew, loved and wanted.
And yet, all the moving around, going from house to house and person to person, made him feel unsettled. Like he didn't really belong anywhere.
So he'd come to Hogwarts seven years ago, expecting to find a real home, expecting to feel that this is where he should be.
And he hadn't.
He loved the place, and he was happy here. But he was happy at his grandmother's, too, or Harry and Ginny's, or Ron and Hermione's or...well, anywhere, really.
It just wasn't home.
If he had parents - parents that were alive, that is - he'd have a home with them, wouldn't he? A real, permanent home, instead of being brought up playing pass-the-Teddy.
No. He had plenty or places to live, eat, sleep, plenty of family would he loved and who loved him back. But he didn't have a home.
And then he saw her, walking across the grounds towards him, and felt himself smile.
"Hi." She said when she was just a few feet away. "Why are you out here all alone?"
"Thinking." He replied. "Just thinking."
"You should come inside. It's getting cold." She said, but sat down in front of him. He didn't speak, and for a little while, neither did she.
"Are you going to miss this place? When you leave?" She asked finally, glancing back at the huge castle.
"I guess. Maybe." He waited until she looked back at him, met his eyes. "I'll miss the people here more."
"You'll still see us." She shrugged, and then smiled, a little sadly. "But it's going to be weird next year, when you're not here anymore."
"I know, Victoire. It'll be weird for me, too." And instead of looking at the castle, he looked at her.
Home, he decided, wasn't a house, a place. Not really.
Home was a person, a person you belonged with, not a place you belonged in. It was a person that made you feel that you could be anywhere, feel at home anywhere, as long as you were with them.
Home for him, he decided, was her, Victoire.