By the end of the meal, if one could call it that, Teddy had moved his eggs around his plate and eaten half his toast. Making to stand up and take his plate to the sink, he felt a cool hand on his and looked down to see the thin wrinkles of his grandmother. She motioned for him to sit back down and when he did so, she pulled him close.
“Are you just going to stare at her all day, or are you going to fix it?”
“Grandmother””
“Well?” She looked up and signaled him towards her with the nod of a head. “Go on. And why is your hair so light? I like it when it’s bright colours like your mother’s used to be.”
Teddy’s hand jumped to his head and he absentmindedly tugged on a strand of his bland hair, turning from his grandmother’s curious stare. He walked to where Victoire was sitting on the far side of the table and looked around to see if anyone was watching. As expected, everyone was.
Quietly, he bent over and whispered in her ear, “Would you come with me? I’ve got something to show you.”
She hesitated, looking around at the others seated at the table. Her arm twitched to her side, and still, she hesitated. Losing his patience, Teddy took hold of her hand and pulled her up, dragging her behind him and out the backdoor.
Fresh snow condensed beneath his shoes as he led her to their destination. The trees were coated in pristine sprinkles of crystallized snow, glinting in the morning sun as they moved along. Each breath billowed in front of Teddy, being left in his wake for Victoire to walk through, her own warm breath intermingling with his. This breath methodically warmed his face for a brief moment, only to once again allow exposure to the biting cold when he inhaled.
“I need a cloak,” a voice laced with shivers spoke from behind him, breaking through the calm silence of the white morning.
“When we get there, you won’t need a cloak. It won’t be much longer.” He trudged on, kicking snow aside and effectively leaving a deep deficit in the level puff on the ground. The grove loomed before him, oddly void of snow. The rich green of the drooping branches sheltered it from the rest of the world, creating a dark, hot barrier that contrasted starkly with the gleaming bright of the day. Harry had told him about this place. It was were he and Ginny would run off to on the frequent occasion that Mrs. Weasley didn’t want to leave them alone, so Teddy took his advice and ran off to it, however different the cause.
“We’re here,” Teddy announced, halting in front of the foreboding branches. Victoire stayed behind him, not advancing to his side, and remained silent. He could feel the uncertainty radiating from her body; the doubt was interwoven in the wavering breath that streamed from her hot mouth, causing him to falter in his own certainty.
He pushed aside some branches, forming an opening to the canopied escape, and stepped aside to allow her entrance first. As hesitant as her previous demeanour had been, she leapt forward at the inviting heat that was radiating from within the branches. He followed, dropping the branches. Their swishing allowed some of the much-savoured heat to escape, but it was replenished by the charm he had cast in preparation for this meeting.
Watching as she walked to the opposite side, he couldn’t help but notice the way her body moved beneath thin fabric of her clothing, the way her long hair fell smoothly over her shoulders, the way she stepped so carefully. He wanted to follow her, reach out and hold her close to feel that body against his, but he knew that would throw away what he had worked for this morning; he had to be careful or else he knew he could lose it all. So he remained on his side, and when she turned to face him, he felt the earth shift beneath his feet: her seemingly pale eyes were heavy with emotion, creasing her forehead with consideration and thought.
She opened her mouth, as if to say something, but stumbled. Shaking her head, she looked down and put her hand on her forehead, closing her mouth. Again, she looked up at him, this time a small stutter erupted from her, but she stopped before it formed a discernable word. He awaited her statement patiently, thinking about his actions carefully: one hasty suggestion or prod could push her even farther away from him. He contemplated her every move: the way she shook her head as thoughts ran rampantly through her cluttered mind; how she avoided his eyes purposefully; what it meant to know this girl standing across from him meant more than the world, she really knew him, but she still couldn’t seem to form these simple thoughts into words.
Finally they came.
She looked into his eyes and began, “Teddy, I don’t have much to say, really, other than I’m sorry. I’m sorry for putting my feelings above yours. It was selfish and narrow minded, however much you hurt me with your words, I deserved it.”
Stopping, she left her hopeful eyes on his and took one faltering step forward. He felt her words sink into his mind, and knew that all that mattered to him was she, and he would do whatever he needed to keep that. She was his tether in the storm, his solidity that kept him constant. He waited for her to close the gap between them, to take the final steps back to him that she had originally taken away.
“You didn’t deserve””
“Please don’t. I’m already putting myself out there for saying it, so don’t negate it. It’s how I feel,” She took another step, “and you need to know it. It’s simple, really.”
“So that’s it then? You’re not going to call me a great git or anything?”
“No, I’m not. I realised that there are far greater things in this world to be worried about than my own satisfaction with it.” She shivered even though the hot air whirled around the enclosure.
Teddy looked at her, taking in her set features, and understood that this was not an easy thing for her to say. But he had not come out here to have her apologise to him, he had come out here with different intentions.
“I didn’t bring you out here to have you say you’re sorry, which I don’t really think you should have. I am a great git”you might as well have just said it,” he paused, grabbing hold of her hands, and prepared himself. “The memory of my parents means a lot to me. It’s one of the only things that keeps me going to look at the crumpled pictures I have. But that’s just it. The pictures are all I have left. I don’t even remember looking up into their faces as a baby, and it is frustrating to know that I had no control over their outcome. But, you and you’re bloody stubbornness has helped me to realise, as you’ve just said, that there are far greater things to be worried about than my satisfaction.
“So, what I’m really trying to say is we’re all right now. No more of this nonsense with satisfaction and whatnot,” he finished, hoping that his words had given her the answers she seemed to so desperately need.
She remained quiet for some time, her hands slipping from his as the thoughts mulled about in her mind. Her face was slack with thought, but her eyes were still fierce with emotion. They stood like this, facing each other, for what seemed like an eternity. He didn’t dare open his mouth, nor move a muscle”she seemed so deep in thought. This situation was one of utmost delicacy to Teddy. His feelings for Victoire would never outstrip the inkling feeling of love he had for his parents, but she was all he had now to grow with. His intentions had never been to push her away or build up a barrier that sheltered their relationship, but he had. And however much he had tried to convince himself, he did so unconscientiously, he had known all along how to fix it. He just didn’t have the drive to do it.
He did love her; just not with the type of love he had for his parents’ memory.
He watched in slow motion as she lifted her arms and snaked them around his motionless body. The soft weight of her body pressed against his was a comfort, and it always had been. It was almost refreshing to know that this petty argument was absolved, that she was going to look beyond the feeling that she couldn’t grasp. Placing a light kiss on top of her head, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, leaving little space for the barrier to rise between them again.
“How did you enhance this place, anyway?” her muffled voice erupted from somewhere around his chest. Her hot breath permeated his thin clothing, which lead him to think of the way her body had moved beneath her clothes as he had watched walk away from him not ten minutes before. It was all he could do to push that image from his mind and focus on her question.
“Oh, the charm I put on this? It was nothing. Just a few well-placed warming spells and the snow was gone,” he replied. “Do you know how I found this place?”
He watched as her eyes journeyed over the hanging branches of the tree and settled on the place they had entered. No recognition crossed her face, so she turned back to Teddy.
“No, how did you even know this was here?”
He rested his head on top of hers; they had always been the perfect height to fit together like puzzle pieces. “Well, Harry actually told me about it.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“And he said that it’s where he used to bring Ginny when your grandmum wouldn’t give them a few moments of priv””
“Teddy Lupin! You brought me to Harry and Ginny’s secret place! I feel like we’re trespassing on their memories,” she finished easily as she swatted him playfully on the chest, her hand leaving a hot imprint.
The nonchalant way in which she had said her last phrase was comforting, yet daunting to Teddy. Other things, such as his own fleeting memories, seemed so trivial and intangible to her, and here she stood worrying that they were intruding on someone else’s past, when all she had been trying to do was intrude on his. But he had to ignore it to move on; this conflicting emotion they felt was one of importance, but Teddy knew that having her was even more important. So, he overlooked this haunting feeling and pushed it aside to be forgotten and ignored.
“Harry freely shared it with me, so I figured it would be all right to trespass a bit,” he replied to her concerns. “I wonder what those two would get up to out here…”
“I cannot believe you really just breached that topic. You, my dear, have gone above and beyond anything I have ever believed you capable of with that last state””
She was silenced by his thin lips as he pressed them against hers. She readily accepted him, apparently prepared to overlook all that had passed between them and move on, which is exactly how he had planned the conclusion to this rendezvous. He pulled her closer, yearning to feel her body in every way possible. A small moan came from the depths of Victoire’s throat, and she slowly pulled her head back to look up at him.
“I think I know what they got up to out here,” she whispered throatily.
“Now you’re the one breaching the topic. You are just as bad as I.” He bent down to give her one final kiss that trembled with passion and promise before grabbing her hand.
“Let’s get back inside, shall we? They’ll send a search party out if we are gone for too long.”
With those final departing words, he led her out of the warm haven and back into the cold. They followed the deep path they had trudged on their way there, but this time Victoire walked beside him, his arm draped over her shoulders sheltering her from the cold. When they reached the back door after the short excursion, Victoire pulled him close.
“You mean the world to me, Teddy Lupin. Never forget that,” she whispered before grabbing his collar in her fist and pulling his mouth to hers. She exhaled heavily when the kiss broke and gave him a suggestive grin before pushing the back door opened. Teddy stood in the same spot for a moment, a bit winded by what had just passed.
“Are you going to stand out in the cold all night, or are you going to come inside? Come on! You’re letting the cold air in the house.” That soft voice chided him from where the seductive grin had just been, and he instantly obeyed, all previous encroachments lay forgotten.
He entered into the warmly lit kitchen of the Burrow to see that everyone was compacted into the small room: some sitting in chairs, others standing, several being forced to sit on the counter for lack of standing room, and playing beneath the table were the small children. All the Weasleys glanced in their direction as they shut the door, and the din of the room instantly silenced.
“Where have you two lovebirds been off to?” George questioned through narrowed eyes from his spot on the counter.
Teddy was silent, and he glanced at Harry for support only to see a sly grin and knowing eyes staring back at him.
“Er””
“Gnomes, Uncle George,” Victoire replied quickly. Teddy noticed that she, too, was glancing nervously around the room, her eyes resting on her parents. One of the children beneath the table let out an ear-splitting shriek and began to cry, immediately taking the focus off Teddy and Victoire and onto the crying child, which appeared to be Lily. All eyes were off of them except George’s, who’s still remained squinted suspiciously in their direction. Continuing to stand in the entryway of the door, she turned carefully to Teddy, eyes scanning to make sure nobody was watching them still.
“Have to love my wonderfully prodding family, yes?” She muttered to him as she looked up at him in apology, only to be interrupted by the presence of another body beside them.
“Yes, he’d better watch out or he’ll be in it sooner than he wishes,” Harry announced, the sly grin still present in the crinkles of his cheeks. Teddy looked at Victoire alarmed that Harry had just said such a presumptive statement, but he heard his godfather’s laugh as Harry said, “The looks on your faces. I’m just joking around with the two of you! By the way you two just looked at each other, you would have though I just announced Ron was pregnant.”
Teddy relaxed a bit, but he was still under the mischievously scrutinising stare of Harry, so he laughed it off. The air of the room buzzed with excitement and conversation, which was normal to the Burrow. Everyone had begun to move around them, weaving in and out of the kitchen and ignoring the trio of people conversing by the door.
“Victoire, I’m going to take Teddy from you for a little while”I have a present I have been meaning to give him,” Harry announced.
“Oh, by all means, take him. I don’t want him,” she bantered back, winking at Teddy before walking towards her parents.
Teddy watched after her, his eyes remaining on certain parts of her body as she walked away, but he was pulled from his reverie when Harry cleared his throat. Teddy looked up at him, and followed the faint nod of the head that Harry gave him. They walked through the squeezed kitchen and into the living room where the great clock sat. Always having been in great awe of the clock, he looked upon its stationary hands as he walked by it and up the stairs with Harry. Silently continuing up to Harry’s room on the third floor, Teddy noticed the creak of the floor, the gust of the wind through the open window and a chill ran through him. He didn’t enjoy silence. It was eerie and lonely to him, two things that he pushed far away. He rejoiced in pandemonium and chaos, enjoying every bit of confusion and loudness that bounced through his head.
Reaching the room, Harry ushered Teddy in and shut the door behind them. The room matched all the others in the Burrow: warm, plain, and homely, with a few touches that Ginny had added in her spare time such as the giant mural of a lily on the far wall.
“Here, you can sit…” Harry muttered as he absentmindedly pulled out a chair. He had begun to ruffle through a pair of robes he had hanging on the bureau. Apparently finding what he had been searching for, he let out an exclamation of accomplishment and set a small, poorly wrapped box on the bed. Pulling up a chair, he sat opposite Teddy, and lent down on his elbows.
He let out a faint sigh before beginning. “Many years ago, when Voldemort was at large, it was very common for witches and wizards of any age to write a will. You know, passing on possessions to their loved ones and whatnot.”
Pausing, Harry’s eyes bounced between Teddy’s searching for the realisation that had slowly begun to creep over Teddy’s body, warming ever bit of his tingling skin. His parents had known. A fantasised scene of his young parents flashed across his mind as they wrote the last words the world would ever know of them onto a mere piece of parchment.
“They were ready for what the war brought because giving themselves was the most they could do. The war had taken too many of their loved ones to lay in wait for it to end,” Harry announced, sensing the troubled air that had erupted from Teddy’s very pores and engulfed his being.
Harry picked the small, flat box up and held it in his hands: an offering to Teddy. “Anyway, I’ve had this for quite some time now, as you would have surmised. I just couldn’t figure out the right time to give it to you, and now time seems to have jumped up and slapped me in the face. So, here you go. From your parents to you.”
Teddy took the package with hesitant hands, unsure of what was awaiting him beneath the thin, brown wrapping. Looking down at it caused the world around him to dissipate, and the pounding in his ears became ever prominent as he began to pull the wrapping apart.
A worn, leather cover began to appear, edges frayed from overuse. As he pulled back the paper more, he saw faded gold letters scrawled across the cover. He finished peeling off the paper, throwing it unconcernedly to the ground, and tipped to cover so he could discern what was written on the front.
R. J. Lupin
Then written below the inscription was a self-written note from his father.
Teddy gripped the journal in his slightly shaking hands, still unsure of himself. This was his father’s deepest wishes and desires, his beliefs and feelings. This was his father compressed into a small, gold-leafed book. It seemed so petty yet so frightening to hold this in his hands. It was only a book, but it was the one thing that his dad had cherished enough to divulge himself to.
Looking up at his godfather, he unsteadily cleared his throat. “Thanks very much for this,” he said almost to himself, as if he was actually speaking the words to his father.
Harry was silent for a few moments, but at last he stood up. “I’ll leave you to it. Happy Christmas, Teddy.”
Teddy continued to stare down at the book, and when he heard the soft thud of the door closing, his eyes still remained glued on the cover. The world around him had completely faded, the shine of the sun and the sound of talking below him were inferior to the object in his hands.
He stood up suddenly, feeling the strain in his tense legs, and walked automatically to the door of the bedroom, not once removing his eyes from the gift. Making his way absently up the stairs, he staggered a bit in his march, hitting the banister every so often. When he finally reached the uppermost portion of the leaning house, he entered and threw the book down on the bed; the empty feeling in his hands unwelcome.
Staring down at his hands as if they were not his own, Teddy stopped in the middle of the room; the world began to spin around him. The sound of the book falling against the stiff mattress echoed in his ears causing him to shift his eyes up to it. He steadied himself from the vertigo that had suddenly overtaken him and moved to the bed, leaning against it. The journal was a mere foot away from him and yet he could not pick it up. It was as if his arm had temporarily lost functionality as it hung limply by his side. The shine of the sun caught the gold trimmings of the pages and at dauntingly glared into his eyes, enticing him to pick it back up.
But he couldn’t.
He forced himself away from the bed, leaning his forehead against the opposite wall, but he still felt the book’s presence, drawing him towards it. But he resisted. Turning around, he looked down onto it. It seemed such a simple thing to open the pages and flip through the life of his father, but his hands were not allowing him to do so. It could give him so many answers to his questions, maybe a faint look into his father’s mind.
Curiosity getting the best of him, he lurched across the room and grabbed up the small book. The familiar weight felt comforting in his hands, and he looked upon it with anxious eyes. A small chuckle escaped him and as quickly as it had come, it was gone. Noise felt unwelcome in this room.
The words, “Keep out. Yes that means you, Tonks,” caused a small smile to replace the chuckle. Wondering if perhaps there had been an incident when his mother had been nosing around in Remus’ things, only to be caught by her husband who instantly scrawled the message as a warning for future events.
His mind began to wander in the direction of his superficial memories: the picture he had of them sitting together, his mother’s wand, an old gramophone of his father. What if this journal could give him real memories?
He opened it.
The smell of old parchment exploded into his surroundings as he looked at the first page of his father’s tidy writing.
I’ve never really found myself feeling sane after addressing a journal with a ‘Hello!’ so I’ll leave it at this. I’ve just proposed to Tonks. It feels right, I think. The moment just hit me when I did it. I’ve had a ring for a while, just never the time. It was easy really, but I still have this nagging feeling pulling at the back of mind that I’m not the right one for her. I know she may tell me time and time again that she wouldn’t be here if she didn’t love me, but I know that she deserves more than I can give….
Teddy stared at the page, wondering if his mother knew the depth of his father’s misgivings, and if there had been arguments and fights over these doubts. Looking through the next pages, he caught glimpses of sentences that alluded to the answers that he was looking for.
She thinks I’m full of it apparently, and let me know so by telling my to shove it up my…
…I am going to visit Harry soon to let him know that I’m leaving Tonks and Teddy. I can’t let myself be exposed to them anymore; I am too much of a threat, especially to a child that is so vulnerable.
Teddy stared at the page, before snapping the book closed. His father had left his mother? That couldn’t be. Everyone had always told him that they had been the picture of perfect together. Apparently it had been rather the opposite, and they had just led on differently, but not to Harry. Yet Harry had never alluded to the fact that his parent’s relationship had been troubled. Maybe there had been extenuating circumstances.
Instantly wanting to know more, Teddy flipped the journal back opened to where his finger had been marking it.
This is for the better. I know that Teddy will grow up in a secure environment now. No once a month transformations or hiding away from my family…
…Apparently Harry thinks I’m full of it too.
Nymphadora came by today with my son. My son. She says he cries when she sings to him. He never cried when I sang to him. She got rather emotional herself when she got to talking about how I hadn’t been around for the past week. She wants me back. She actually wants me back. It’s hard for me to fathom that she could want somebody who could potentially cause so much harm to her own son. But she wouldn’t take no for an answer. That’s what I’ve always liked about her…
I’m back in the old house. Teddy didn’t cry when I sang him to sleep, but my wife did. She’s my wife, and I’m a gentleman. No more of this pathetic leaving bologna. I’ve got to take my life and live it, she says. My days could by numbered. I just hope they aren’t too numbered. I want to see what this little boy has in store. I am already so proud of him, and I always will be…
At this point, Teddy could no longer read the words his father had written. He had known that his days were numbered. Looking up at the date that had been scrawled in the uppermost corner of the page, he saw that it was merely a few months before he had died. But all the same, he had gone back to his mother for him, it had all been for him. His father had been proud of him, and he said he always would be.
Teddy tucked the journal protectively in the folds of his robes and made for the door. He needed to find Harry.
As he passed by an opened window, he noted that the sun had risen and passed it’s highest point in the sky, falling down behind the trees and casting harsh shadows across the rolling hills of the Burrow. Teddy paused for a moment at on of these windows and leaned his head out, breathing in deep the smell of fresh snow and new life, and bright smile erupting over his usually solemn features.
He continued on his journey, and once he had checked his godfather’s bedroom, he walked the remaining steps down to the bottom floor to find Harry sitting beside the fire with Ginny, animatedly telling her a story.
Clearing his throat, he waited for Harry to realise that he had entered the room. Harry stopped mid-violent-hand-gesture to look up at Teddy. Teddy then shot and expectant glance in Ginny’s direction.
“Er, Ginny? Sorry to interrupt my own story, but do you think you could give me and Teddy a moment?” Harry asked his wife, all the while looking directly at Teddy.
“Sure thing, boys. Just make sure I have my husband back by the end of the night, all right, Teddy?” Ginny joked as she stood up and began the trek up the stairs.
Teddy smiled at her and took the sunken spot on the couch where she had just risen from, pulling out the journal. He rubbed his thumbs over the surface that was becoming familiar to his calloused hands, and looked up at Harry. His eyes were bright with unshed emotions that had been harboured in his chest waiting for a moment when it had been all right to explode. The time had come to him in the shape of a small, worn, relatively floppy journal that wore all of his father’s thoughts and emotions.
“My dad left my mum?” Teddy asked. It was the first question that had burned in his mind as he had been reading the pages, and it was the one of most importance.
Harry shifted a bit before answering, “He did yes, but only for a little while.”
“And you knew this the whole time?” Teddy’s questions were raw and dry, not caring that he could possibly offend Harry with his blunt assessment of the apparent truth.
“Since the day he left her, I knew it happened. Why do you ask?” Harry retorted.
“Because you’ve known for over seventeen years that my dad left her, and you never once thought that you should tell me?” Teddy’s voice wasn’t harsh, nor was it loud. It was the type of anger that was low and cynical, coming from the very depths of one’s soul, burning from one’s unused heart.
“I thought it more appropriate to wait and have your father tell you.”
At these words, Teddy went silent. It was obvious that Harry must’ve had this journal for some time, at least ever since his father’s death. So, he had waited. It had been his father’s place to tell him, one of those special things that a father must tell the son, if he had the chance. And this time, Remus actually had the chance because he had put it in words.
“So he went back to Mum because of me?” Teddy asked, breaking the silence that had fallen between them.
Harry thought on this question for a moment before he replied, “Not entirely. You were a major contribution to his return, because your father was one of the greatest gentlemen that I knew, that anyone knew, but he did love your mother. However much he thought she was too good for him, he loved her deeply.”
All of Teddy’s doubts and frustrations vanished with these last words that Harry had said. They had offered the most comfort of anything that had ever been said to him. His father had loved him, and had been proud of him as he said in his writing. And his mother had been deeply in love with both of them.
“One thing I know that your mother and your father would never want is for you to be sitting here brooding over losing them. They went down fighting, which is only how they would have had it. What they would want is for you to be the happiest kid out there, living on their heroic legacies like it was a badge of honour.”
Teddy’s heart swelled with pride as Harry continued to speak of his parents’ wishes to him. And somehow, deep down, he knew that Harry was right.
“I would know so because they told me the last bit themselves one night many years ago,” Harry whispered his last words, patting Teddy on the shoulder.
A small laugh escaped his lips as he thought of all that had just passed between him and his godfather. It may not be everything, but it was definitely the beginning to finding his happiness again.
“Thanks, Harry,” he mumbled, as he looked down at the journal, once again rubbing hid finger across the worn lettering.
“Oi! And look at that! Your hair’s blue again, Teddy,” Harry said, ruffling his hair, “Brilliant!”
Laughter once again escaped Teddy’s lips as he looked in the mirror at the end of the hall. Indeed, his hair was a shock of blue atop his dark face.
This time he whispered, “Thanks Mum and Dad.”