Author’s Notes: Sorry, this chapter is a bit lacking in action. And I know that nothing kills a show like too much exposition. I promise more exciting things will happen soon, but for right now Teddy learning more and exploring his power is necessary before we can get into the grander plot (which I’ve finally started to figure out!).
Thank you to all readers and reviewers!
Phases
Teddy Lupin had always been fascinated by his ability to morph. Now, he was rapidly becoming obsessed.
On the second night, he went to bed early - prompting Gran to ask him who he was and what he had done with her grandson - and spent hours morphing his hand into a wolf and back over and over, completely mesmerized
On the third night, he tried morph his leg. Teddy’s heart pounded with even more persistence than on the first night as he watched his foot and leg shrink and distort into the long thin back paw and hind leg of a wolf.
The fourth and fifth nights were more of the same. Teddy was particularly entranced by the way his own knee bent backwards. He spent a lot of time bending and unbending it, marveling at how natural such a completely unnatural motion felt.
On the sixth night, things got harder. Although he was eventually able to pull up the morph again, it had taken at lot more effort and concentration than it had before. Teddy wondered what had changed.
On the seventh night, it was even harder. Teddy felt frustrated, remembering how easily, how naturally, how almost unconsciously the morph had come that first night and the few nights that followed. Looking back on it, it had been getting harder for a while now. He just hadn’t taken notice until it last night when it had been really hard. Now it was almost impossible.
On the eighth night, he couldn’t do it at all. He felt despondent, empty. Even though he was tired from having stayed up late every night for the past week, he couldn’t sleep. He remembered something that Gran had told him once about his mum losing her ability to morph when she was depressed. Was that it perhaps? But none of his other morphs were suffering, he thought, lengthening his hair so he could hold it in front of his eyes and watching it morph from midnight blue to bright white. What had changed?
The ninth night’s attempt fell just as flat. He felt a horrible sense of loss that he could only partially understand. Teddy gazed miserably around his dark room, looking for something, anything, to distract him from the knot of grief growing in his stomach. His eyes fell on the tree just outside of the window. Buds were starting to form on it as spring approached. He hadn’t noticed them at all this past week, so distracted by his morph. The tree swayed lightly in the breeze, its branches moving back and forth over the half-circle moon behind them.
Teddy knew the phases of the moon probably a little better than other boys his age, but he had never had any reason to give them much thought. He knew that when he was younger, Gran and Harry had always watched him more closely at the full moon. Even when it was clear he wasn’t going to transform, they had kept an eye out for other symptoms. Teddy knew that Uncle Bill usually got headaches and was more susceptible to bad mood swings on the days around the full moon. But Teddy had never felt any different, whatever size the moon was, either physically or emotionally. He, Gran, and Harry had long since come to the conclusion that the moon was an utterly unimportant factor in Teddy’s life.
Teddy sighed as he continued to watch the branches sway across the moon, wondering vaguely if it was waxing or waning. He never bothered to keep track. It was a perfect half-circle tonight, meaning a week ago it had either been full or new, and it would be the opposite in another week’s time. What had it been a week ago? He didn’t know. He wasn’t sure if he had even so much as glanced out the window at night this last week. He had been so distracted by…
And it finally clicked. In his mind’s eye he could see the claw on the end of his arm as he had seen it the first night…bathed in moonlight. The moon had been full, or near enough. It had been waning for the last week…and so had his morph.
Well, if he hadn’t been certain that he was morphing a werewolf and not a normal wolf before, he was definitely certain now. How had it not occurred to him until tonight? He had been thinking about werewolves so much the past nine days as he examined his hand and leg. How was it that he had not given a single thought to the moon?
He felt a powerful wave of relief wash over him. He hadn’t let himself acknowledge the little voice in the back of his mind that told the morph might have disappeared forever, but he suddenly realized just how worried he had been. He understood now, and the knot of grief in his stomach seemed to have vanished. He might not be able to morph now, but surely, surely, in a couple of week’s time, he would be able to again.
He fully expected it to be a long couple of weeks because, as Harry had told him several times, he had definitely not inherited his father’s patience. He was so eager to learn more about the morph, to test it further. But for now, he would just have to wait.
Teddy had debated with himself a lot about whether to tell Gran about his new morph. He and Gran had always been very open with each other, and he had never felt the need to keep secrets from her. She had always been very helpful answering questions about his morphing.
But…
She was also very uncomfortable talking about werewolves. Teddy knew that his grandmother had loved his father, or had at least grown to love him with time. She didn’t have as many stories about him as she had about his mum, but she was always happy to tell what she did know about him. Except when it came to his condition. She got very uncomfortable any time Teddy tried to bring that up. Teddy wasn’t sure if it was because she, like most other people in the Wizarding world, had been bought up to hate and fear werewolves, and those beliefs had stuck with her even after knowing his father. Maybe it was because they had all been so worried that Teddy would be a werewolf too that she just couldn’t bear to hear Teddy asking questions about it. Teddy didn’t know.
What he did know was that she was unlikely to be excited about his new morph.
So, for now, he decided not to tell her.
As the moon continued to shrink in the sky outside his window and Teddy still couldn’t morph, he found himself wishing he knew a bit more about werewolves. He had learned some things, of course, naturally curious to discover more about the father he had never known. But while Harry had never lied to him (at least he hoped Harry had never lied to him), Harry had explained that there were some things about werewolves that he, –wouldn’t understand until he was olderâ€. Although Teddy usually protested loudly to the –wait-‘til-you’re-older†pass-off, the uncomfortable look on Harry’s face at the time had led Teddy to believe that he didn’t really want to know about these things.
But he was older now. He would be ten in less than a month, and that’s practically a grown-up! And he wanted to know. He needed to know. He needed all the information he could get about werewolves, about his morph. He needed to understand.
He was going back to Harry’s in just a few days. And he was determined to get all the information this time…whether Harry wanted to give it or not.
Teddy had always had a bedroom at 12 Grimmauld Place, though he rarely used it when he was younger. Although he had seen a lot of Harry as a child, Harry had been so busy training to be an Auror and his girlfriend/fiancée/wife had been so busy with her Quidditch career, frequent sleepovers had never been a real option. He was also the only close real family his grandmother had left, and with the pain of losing her husband and daughter still so fresh, Teddy knew Gran must have been very lonely on those few nights that he had stayed away.
But now, Ginny was retired from Quidditch, working part time for The Daily Prophet, and spending much more time at home making and corralling little Potters. Harry had more flexible hours now that he wasn’t a rookie (although, had Harry ever really been a rookie). And Gran had Mr. Johansson to keep her company. All of this meant that Teddy had been able to split his time more evenly between households in the last few years. Gran’s house would always be the one he considered his home, but 12 Grimmauld Place was the one with his brothers, so he could never stay away for too long.
His brothers were the first thing he heard as he and his bag fell out of the fireplace in the large basement kitchen. A small black-haired blur came running past him his he clambered to his feet, followed by a slightly larger red-haired blur. Both blurs were squealing, though which with joy and which with fright wasn’t clear.
–Oh, Teddy, thank Merlin you’re here! I can’t chase them any more!â€
Eight months into her third pregnancy, Ginny was nothing short of gigantic. Ginny stopped in front of the fire and placed a hand on her back, pulling a slightly pained expression.
–Is that why you wanted me?†Teddy asked with a grin. –Is that all I’m good for around here, playing kiddie-catcher?â€
Ginny grinned back as she pulled him into the best hug she could manage in her condition. –You’re good for lots of things, Teddy,†she told him, –but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a perk.†She kissed him on the forehead. –It’ll be good to have you around. I’ve missed you.â€
She always told him she missed him when he wasn’t staying at her house, even if she saw him every day. ‘It’s just not the same as having you here,’ she would often say, and it always made him feel loved.
–I missed you too,†Teddy told her. He broke away from Ginny and whistled with his fingers in his mouth like Mr. Johansson had taught him. –Oi! Aren’t you going to say hi to your big brother?†he called.
The blurs stopped running, turning back into James and Albie, seemingly noticing him for the first time. –Teddy!†they cried together, and they were blurs once more as they raced towards him. Teddy squatted and threw an arm around each of his brothers, hugging them tightly.
–See what I mean?†Ginny chuckled. –I chase them for half an hour and all you have to do is whistle. Perks!â€
Teddy straightened up, picking up Albie with one hand, his other hand ruffling James’s dark red hair as he changed his own hair to match. –Well I’m happy to help,†he told her.
–Keep an eye on them for a bit, will you?†Ginny asked. –I’m almost done fixing lunch.â€
–Sure thing,†Teddy said. –Can you get my bag for me, James? We’ll all go up to my room.â€
Teddy watched with amusement as the three-year-old tried and failed to lift his bag. Chuckling, Teddy scooped up the bag himself, threw it over his shoulder, took James’s hand, and went to his room with his brothers.
Harry didn’t make it home in time for dinner. He arrived just as Teddy and Ginny were putting James and Albie into their pajamas. Teddy heard him practically running up the stairs, clearly worried he might be too late to say goodnight, and saw his relieved smile as he watched Teddy struggling to pull Albie’s pajama top over his messing black head.
Harry read a story aloud to James and Albie (and Teddy), all crowded on James bed. Albie was asleep after about five pages, but James made his father finish the whole story before allowing himself to be tucked in. Albie didn’t wake as Harry settled him into his crib and he and Teddy snuck out the door. Harry waited until they were safely out of James’s earshot before suggesting they go get some ice cream.
Teddy followed his godfather back down to the kitchen. Caught up in the excitement of being back at Grimmauld Place and the chaos of helping Ginny chase his brothers, Teddy hadn’t thought much at all about his new morph that day. He was surprised; it had rather dominated his thoughts day and night for the past week, but it came back to him as Harry pulled out a bucket of ice cream with a grin. With James and Albie in bed, and Ginny presumably having called it an early night, now seemed like the perfect time to get some information.
–So, what’s going on with you, kiddo?†Harry asked, scooping rather massive amounts of ice cream into two bowls.
Teddy frowned, trying to decide how best to broach the subject.
–Teddy?†Harry asked. He set the bowls down on the table and took the chair next to Teddy. But instead of digging into the ice cream, Harry faced his godson and looked into his eyes. Teddy was surprised at how concerned he looked. –Teddy, are you all right?â€
–I’m fine,†said Teddy, looking away and picking up his spoon.
Harry frowned. –Your gran says that you’ve been very quiet lately,†Harry told him. –Is there something on your mind, Teddy?â€
Teddy took a large bite of ice cream before answering. –I…I have some questions about…about werewolves.â€
Harry nodded knowingly, as though he had been expecting this topic to come back around. He pulled his own bowl closer to him and said, –I understand, Teddy. It’s perfectly natural for you to want to know more. Ask what you like. I’ll answer what I can.â€
Teddy pondered over another large spoonful. He had just been hoping to ask Harry to lend him some books about werewolves. But if Harry was willing… What should he ask first?
–Err…can werewolves transform when it’s not the full moon?â€
–No,†Harry answered, as Teddy had expected. –It was a myth that werewolves could ever transform at any time besides the full moon. A bad myth, considering that it just made people more afraid of werewolves, thinking they might grow fangs at any moment. But extensive research has been done on the subject, and it has been proven that werewolves can only transform on nights when the moon is full and not any other time.â€
And yet Teddy had transformed for seven nights in a row.
–Does it…does it hurt a lot? Transforming into a werewolf?â€
–Err…â€
–Please tell me, Harry,†Teddy implored quietly. –I’m not a baby anymore. Don’t tell me it’s not so bad just to make me feel better.â€
Harry sighed. –Yes, Teddy. It hurts.â€
–How bad? A lot?â€
–Well, I wouldn’t really be able to tell you that. I’ve never done it myself. But…yes…it’s supposed to hurt quite a lot.â€
And yet it hadn’t hurt Teddy at all. It had felt the same as any of his other morphs. Easier, in fact, at least at the beginning. Teddy sat quietly, pondering how something could be so painful for other people and not painful, or even a tiny bit uncomfortable, for him.
Harry misinterpreted Teddy’s pensive silence. –Your dad was very strong, Teddy,†Harry said, placing a hand on Teddy’s shoulder. –It was bad, yes, but he always got through it. And it was only once a month.â€
Teddy’s emotional state took a violent downturn. He hadn’t even been thinking about his father’s pain, but, thank you Harry, he certainly was going to now. Unwilling to turn and step down the dark alley of his father’s suffering just yet, or to acknowledge his guilt that he hadn’t been thinking about his dad in the first place, Teddy desperately steered the conversation in a different direction.
–Err, werewolf wounds are cursed, right?†Teddy asked quickly. –The bites and scratches don’t heal properly with magic? Even when the werewolf isn’t transformed, like with what happened to Uncle Bill, yeah?â€
–Well,†Harry said, looking a little thrown but thankfully not mentioning the change of subject, –err, yes, the bites are definitely cursed whether the werewolf is transformed or not. If transformed, a bite will turn a person into a werewolf…but I guess you probably already knew that,†Harry half-smiled. –And yes, if the werewolf isn’t transformed, bites are still cursed, like what happened to Uncle Bill. As for scratches, I really don’t know. I know that they are hard to heal, scratches from a transformed werewolf, but as to whether they actually carry the curse themselves…I don’t think so…but I’m not sure…I know you have to be bitten to become a real werewolf…but if enough scratches could make someone like Bill…I don’t know…as for untransformed scratches…well I’ve definitely never heard…â€
Harry was rambling, talking more, it seemed, to himself than to Teddy, at this point. Teddy waited patiently for Harry’s train of thought to make it back to the station, only half-listening as he continued on his ice cream. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate Harry’s earnest desire to answer all of his questions. The fact that he had told Teddy to ask what he liked was, Teddy thought, a big step, considering that he had half-expected to be met with more –wait-‘til’-you’re-olderâ€s and other such evasions. However, if Harry didn’t know the answers, it wasn’t particularly helpful.
–Anyway, I’ll have to find that out for you, kiddo,†Harry concluded.
–Okay, thanks Harry.â€
–Sure. Was there anything else?â€
Only the most important thing, yes.
–What do werewolves look like?†Teddy asked. –I mean, I’ve seen some pictures. I guess what I mean is…how do werewolves look different from normal wolves? How can you tell for sure which is which?â€
Harry smiled. –Well that one’s a bit easier,†he said. –I’m sure I could probably rattle off a dozen or so differences, but it’d probably be more helpful if you just saw for yourself, right? I’m sure I’ve got some books upstairs with pictures. How’s that sound?â€
Sounds like exactly what I wanted to begin with.
–Great!†Teddy said, maybe a bit too enthusiastically. –And then…Harry? Do you think maybe I could keep the books…for a little while?â€
Because questions weren’t enough. He couldn’t ask Harry the things he wanted to know without telling Harry everything. And he wasn’t ready to do that just yet. He needed to do his own research.
Harry frowned. –Teddy…if you have questions, I’d rather you just asked me or…â€
–But I’ve asked all my questions!†Teddy protested. –I don’t even…how am I supposed to know what else to ask if I’ve never even…if I could just read a bit…I promise to come ask you if there’s something I have questions.â€
He was going to get what he wanted, whether Harry wanted to give it to him or not.
–Teddy…â€
–It’s just, just so hard!†Teddy said, not trusting himself to look at his godfather as he went on, –all I want is information; information I think I have a right to know. But you all are so determined to protect me that you won’t let me have it. Don’t you understand what that feels like?†Teddy looked up at Harry, trying to keep his face straight and innocent.
All of the information, whatever it took.
And it landed.
–I understand, Teddy,†Harry sighed, –more than you know. All right, you can hang onto the books.â€
Punching the air in victory was probably not going to help him at this point, he thought. He did allow himself a small smile when Harry had his back turned picking up the empty bowls and setting them in the sink.
Harry led the way up to the library. He selected three books, handing two of them to Teddy and hesitating slightly with the third.
–I…don’t tell your gran I gave you this one, all right kiddo?†he said finally handing over the third book. –Or Ginny,†he added.
–I won’t. Thanks Harry. Err…â€
–Yes?â€
–Do you…do you maybe have a lunar chart too?â€
Harry’s expression clouded slightly.
–I’m just curious,†Teddy added hastily.
Teddy wasn’t sure that he had Harry entirely convinced, but then Harry told him that he might have one in his study to use for potion brewing, and that he would make Teddy a copy. Books and lunar chart in hand, Teddy thanked Harry, said goodnight, and returned to his bedroom.
He dropped the books on his bedside table, jumped up on his bed with the lunar chart. He sat cross-legged on top of the quilt and spread the lunar chart out in front of him.
If that’s today…he found today’s date on the chart. It was one day after new moon. He searched the sky outside and, sure enough, there was the tiniest sliver of the waxing moon just visible over the trees. And the first day I morphed…it was a Tuesday I think…yes, that’s right…he found said Tuesday on the chart. It had been the day before the full moon. Seven days…so that was one before the moon, one at the moon, and five days after. So I should be able to start five days before…in about…eight days. But it hard been hard those last few days as the moon waned, and probably would be again with it not fully waxed. Still, I can try.
Teddy was excited to have an official date to start morphing again. The last week and a half had gone so slowly.
He rolled up the lunar chart and pulled one of the books towards him, the one Harry had hesitated a bit to give him. It was smaller than a textbook but larger than a novel, and though Harry’s copy was well cared for, it seemed to have been printed many years ago. The Many Dangers of Werewolves was, Teddy thought, a rather ominous title, though not nearly as ominous as what was inside. Teddy opened randomly at the center and found himself looking a pages of very small text with lots of large and complicated words far beyond his reading level.
He squinted, turning pages, looking for something that might make sense.
–…lycanthropy affects the circulatory system in a way that…â€
–…the dubious nature of half-breed psychology requires subjects be carefully monitored and restricted…â€
–…unable to exact any measure of control to prevent self-induced mutilations…â€
–…internal sense of lunar positioning is apparent…â€
–…concluded that while bestial nature can be brought out during times of duress from various factors, even our most potent stimulation was unable to affect a physical transformation…â€
…and those were the bits he could read.
Harry must have known this was too dense for him. Why had he been worried about Gran or Ginny finding out he had it?
Throwing this book aside, he picked up another. This one was larger and clearly a DADA textbook for students just a few years older than him. He found a picture of a transformed werewolf. As he had expected, pieces of it looked very familiar.
He examined the werewolf’s front legs and saw his new morph. His new morph exactly. It was as if Teddy was looking at his own…was it a claw or a paw? Teddy wasn’t sure. The textbook seemed to use them interchangeably. Wolves had paws, he supposed. But there was something so much more sinister about his morph that the word –paw†didn’t quite cover. There was the way he had still been able to bend his fingers, to grab hold of something if he wanted, even though he didn’t have a thumb. There were the long sharp tips on the end, designed for maximum damage. No, paws might be what normal wolves have, but what he had, what was drawn in this book, was definitely a claw.
The back legs too were familiar, backwards knees and all. Teddy drank in the image hungrily, wanting more than anything to morph again. He had been too frightened to try more than limbs before, but now he found himself yearning to see how far he could go. Could he take it all the way? Could he look like the creature in this picture? What would it feel like? Would it…
Teddy jumped at a knock on his bedroom door. –Lights out, kiddo,†Harry called.
Teddy scowled but knew better than to argue. –’Kay,†he called back.
–Goodnight.â€
–Goodnight, Harry.â€
Teddy closed the textbook, turned out his light, and got under the covers. That night, just as every other night for the past two weeks, he dreamed he was a wolf.
The moon and its phases had never been an important factor in Teddy Lupin’s life before. But suddenly, it couldn’t wax fast enough.
And wax it did. Eight days later found Teddy in his bedroom at Grimmauld Place once more.
Concentrate…concentrate…
His heart pounded. He was out of practice and with the full moon still five days away, he knew it would be difficult.
Please…please!
Concentrate…
Outside, in space, heavenly bodies moved. The earth rotated and circled the sun. The moon circled the earth.
Inside, in Teddy’s bedroom, a werewolf’s claw appeared once more.
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