Victoire was long used to people misprouncing her very French name in her native England, and it didn't bother her at all. "Coming!" she called, excitement fluttering in the pit of her stomach. With effort, she hauled herself up off the couch and more or less waddled to the door, opening it with a grin and a racing heart. It was really him - it was really Godric Gryffindor. The Godric Gryffindor.
He wasn't what she'd been expecting at all, and she blinked. He was young. "Mr Gryffindor - it's an honour," she said, opening the door for him. "I'm Victoire Lupin. It seems you've quite taken to modern clothing."