Flaws (Part I)

Fandom: Harry Potter
Disclaimer: All characters belong to JKR. I just make the situations.
Characters: Teddy Lupin
Rating: PG
Summary: Teddy Lupin seeks answers about his parents from his godfather.

Author's Note: Oh no she didn't! Despite my initial feelings about Teddy Lupin fic I caved in and decided to write some - but it's more using teddy as a tool with which to explore other relationships in the potter-verse. Flaws may well continue after this, as I now have a hankering to write Teddy/Victoire, and other bits and pieces. I hope you enjoy!

Teddy Lupin cannot remember a time when his grandmother had seemed anything other than old and weary. Her tired, careworn manner fits so well with the grey streaks in her hair that he finds it difficult to imagine that Granny Andromeda has ever been different. She is never depressed; no, his grandmother is always positive, and sometimes even cheerful. But he can tell that the years lie heavy on her memory.

One day, when he was eight, just after they moved to London, he realised that asking about his parents and his grandfather caused Granny Andromeda pain, caused her to frown and screw her eyes up hard. He stopped asking, then.

---

"What were my parents like?" It feels like he's never asked that question before. And yet he knows he's said those five words maybe a hundred times whilst sat at the dining table in the Potters' house. His godfather looks at him, smiles understandingly. Ginny gets up from the table, and says, "I'll just go and check on the children." She takes the empty glass dish which had held apple crumble with her, skirting round the Christmas tree

There is a pause as Harry pours himself another glass of wine. He looks over at Teddy, questioningly, who shakes his head. He's already had two glasses, and he's not sure his grandmother would approve of more than that. "Your father," Harry says, "was the best teacher I ever had at school. But he was also a friend, someone I could talk to. He taught me how to cast a Patronus charm years before I should have been capable of it."

Teddy drinks it all in, even though he's heard it dozens of times before. And then his godfather says something new. Harry hesitates for a moment before saying it. "You're sixteen now," he says, "which I think is old enough."

"Old enough for what?" Teddy asks, curious.

"Old enough to know… certain facts, and being able to appreciate them properly." Teddy is still confused, but his godfather continues. "You are old enough to understand that there is no such thing as a perfect human being. We all make mistakes, we all have weaknesses, but those weaknesses do not necessarily make us bad people."

Teddy nods. "Your father, for a while, felt weak," Harry says. "He married your mother, but believed that he wasn't… enough for her. He thought that because he was a werewolf, with all the problems that brings, he should not have married her. He came here" - Harry gestures to the old house they are sitting in – "and told me that was how he felt."

To Teddy, it feels… odd, for want of a better word, to hear this. He has never considered that his parents might have been flawed beings. He doesn't like the idea much. His godfather is still speaking. "I argued with him. I said terrible things, called him a coward. When he left, I wondered if we'd ever be friends again."

"My dad didn't love her?" Teddy says, amazed, and Harry immediately shakes his head.

"No," he says firmly. "Your father loved your mother very, very much. He went back to her, and the day you were born was the happiest I've ever seen your father. He loved you dearly, too." Harry pauses again. "His weakness came from love, you see. He loved Tonks – your mother – so much, and that was what led him to doubt himself."

Silence falls across the dining room at Grimmauld Place. "It's a funny thing, love," Harry says. "You don't always see it immediately. When you do, it's the most terrifying thing in the world." Teddy says nothing; far too many thoughts are chasing round in his head. "In the same way as your father, I pushed people I loved away from me because I felt that they were in too much danger near me."

"He did, you know," Ginny laughs from the door. "Took me ages to pin him down." She comes and sits down at the table, next to Harry. "Don't let me forget, I made a cake for you and your grandmother," she says.

"Yeah, I should probably get going," Teddy says. "Gran doesn't like me going on the Tube late at night. She says I'll get mugged."

"She's quite right," Ginny teases. "I don't know why you don't just Floo." Teddy laughs, because he knows that both Ginny and Harry know why he takes the Tube everywhere in London.

---

It's only when he's standing on the platform, waiting for the train which will take him back to his grandmother's house in West London that all the knowledge he has recently acquired starts to make sense. The initial shock is slowly wearing off, and as it does, Teddy suddenly understands what his godfather had said at the very beginning of the conversation about being old enough to appreciate things. If he had been told about his father wanting to leave his mother when he was younger, he would have refused to believe it, or lost his temper. Perhaps this is part of growing up, he thinks. Realising that people you love have flaws, sometimes deep flaws.

---

When he gets home, his grandmother is still up, watching the end of the evening news. Teddy never appreciated until he went to Hogwarts just how much of a blend of Muggle and wizarding life his childhood had been. All the things his grandfather Ted had brought into Andromeda's life become sacred, like going on the Underground. Teddy had grown up with the BBC as much as he had with any of the wizard broadcasting services.

Television was something he missed at Hogwarts; television, and Radio 4. His childhood had been regulated by it: the start of the five o'clock news meant it was time for tea, and the Archers theme music at five past seven meant that it was time for bed. Watching the ten o'clock news with his grandmother had become a ritual whenever he was at home during the holidays, and now he sank down in one of the armchairs.

"Did you have a nice dinner?" His grandmother is in a good mood; he can tell, because she isn't embroidering.

"Very. There's a cake in the kitchen from Ginny; it's a ginger loaf, I think."

"She makes excellent cakes," Andromeda says fondly. "Never dry, and always plenty of fruit." Teddy half-listens to the weatherman talking about the chance of snow on Christmas Day, two days away. Tomorrow night, Christmas Eve, will be spent with his grandfather's family in the East End. Christmas Day itself would see just himself and his grandmother alone together. Every year, the Potters had issued an invitation for Christmas lunch, but Andromeda always declined. "I couldn't bear to go back to that house," she said every year, and this year has been no different.

It is then that Teddy realises that flaws are all well and good, until they prevent you living a full life. His grandmother's refusal to go to Grimmauld Place meant that Christmas was always celebrated alone, just the two of them there in the house, sharing a small turkey. As he lies in bed, Teddy silently resolves to never let his self-doubts come between himself and living.