Warning: The following story contains scenes of a sensitive nature and macabre themes, reader discretion is advised.
(*)(*)(*)
Innocence
"You're mine, aren't you, Teddy?" he asks, gripping the older boy around the knees and nearly knocking him to the ground.
"Yep, Jamie," grins Teddy, steadying himself as the three-year-old tightens his grip on his legs. He pats the toddler on the head, the dishevelled black hair bouncing beneath his fingers as James begins hopping up and down in excitement.
"You mean it?" he presses, "Forever?"
"Forever," Teddy promises, missing the blood-gold glint of victory in his pseudo brother's eyes.
.o0o.
He feels hollow, somewhat empty as he carries his bags up the stairs of Grimmauld Place, his godfather's home . . . his home now. It's been less than a week since his grandmother was killed, just a few days since he's seen her mutilated corpse.
He wants to scream, to shout, to just let go and let his magic go supernova, destroying everything around him and himself in just one glorious cry of grief. It's true what they say now; he truly is an orphan in every sense of the world. No parents, no grandmother, no family of his own.
The trickle of her blood still thrums in his ears, the sight of their kitchen awash with blood and splattered bits of flesh haunting his eyes. He should have been there . . . maybe he could have saved her from whomever had hacked her to bits with her own cleaver. Wishing that his grandmother had never sent him off to the shop around the corner, he pushes open the door to his room – the one he's always stayed in whenever he's visited the Potters – and slumps against the door.
Teddy thanks the world for small miracles, though. It could have been so much worse. James had been there. The little boy had been found, soaked through in blood and tears, hiding in the cabinet beneath the sink. He thanks Merlin and Morgana both for James' safety . . . and then curses their names for taking his grandmother, his last true family, from him.
His tears splash across his knees, drawn from his bloodshot eyes and he feels the door creak open against his back, not a little but just enough for someone tiny to push their way through. He feels James wrap his skinny arms around him, and he cries into the boys shoulder, feeling grossly perverse that the roles have been reversed. He's the elder, it should be him giving comfort and not the other way around.
Tears soak into the James' red T-shirt, and Teddy cries till the sun sets and the full moon rises, mourning the passage of another of its brightest stars.
.o0o.
He wakes, drawn from his slumber by the ever-present nightmares which haunt him at every turn. It's not an unusual occurrence – much to his own chagrin – as he's been plagued with bad dreams since finding his grandmother's body. Her hollow eye-sockets are the worst, though. They've never stopped staring at him since that fateful day.
His breathing quickens, gooseflesh forming across the back of his neck as the strangest sensation washes over him. Feeling as though he's being watched, he pulls his sheets up to his chin and open his eyes to a slit, nearly choking at the sight before him.
The boy is standing beside his bed, wearing bright blue pyjamas with a Pikachu on his chest and a maniacal smile on his face. James' eyes are wide and hazel, swirling with flecks of gold that Teddy can't help but want to imitate.
"James," he gasps, relaxing because that's all it is. It's just Jamie Potter, his godbrother, and friend, a six-year-old who can always make him smile. Of all the people in the world, James is probably the only one who can relate to him.
He had been there. He had seen Andromeda die.
"I'm scared, Teddy," whimpers the boy, "Can I sleep here tonight?"
Teddy pulls up his sheets and lets him slip in, favouring him with a wan smile before closing his eyes. He sleeps peacefully that night, never noticing that James never shuts his eyes or makes a sound, or that the hazel eyes never cease in their staring.
.o0o.
He's sitting cross-legged under a tree, trying to understand the information in his textbook and failing. He doesn't understand potions and to be honest, he doubts he ever will, especially considering the enormous amounts of homework that have been set by the school for him to do over the holidays.
A strange hissing draws his attention and he cranes his neck to catch a glimpse of what's causing the sound. It's serpentine and strange, a raspy hiss that he hasn't seen or heard in all his life.
What he sees chills him to the bone.
James is standing there, beside the pond, thin and reedy as only a boy of nine can be. He's speaking, but the sounds that are coming from his mouth aren't human, they're a strangled assortment of hisses that make Teddy's ears bleed.
Two snakes rear up before the little boy, heads dipping forward in a motion that seems eerily as if they're bowing to James, venom glistening from their fangs as they hiss in return.
Then James lets out a choked scream and the serpents leap upon each other, sinking their fangs into each other as they writhe across the ground. Finally, when the larger has devoured the smaller, does James smile and pat the snake on the head before turning to return to the house.
Teddy hears a person vomiting.
He doesn't realise that it's himself until he sees the sickly substance splattered across his textbook.
.o0o.
"Why were you playing with him?" Teddy hears as he passes Albus' bedroom. Frowning at the coldness that's evident in the voice, he pushes the door open just a little and peers in through the crack.
"You get to play with Teddy all the time," scowls Albus, folding his little arms and sitting cross-legged on his bed, "I played with him once this entire week and you've got no right to tell me not to."
A piece of him wonders if he should be happy that the brothers are arguing over him, but another part remembers the sense of danger in the first voice, and the snakes from a year ago. He ponders for a moment before deciding to leave them alone to their bickering – they're brothers after all and James will never hurt Albus, nor vice versa.
He's halfway down the corridor when he hears the first squeal of pain and he whirls on his feet, almost tripping over nothing as he sprints back to the boy's bedroom and bursts through the door.
"Mine! He's mine! MINE!"
James is there, pinning Albus to the floor with his hands clenched in the younger Potter's hair, lifting his head up and then slamming it into the headboard, over and over again. With a cry, he grabs James and hauls him off the now crying Albus, before pushing him aside and kneeling beside his youngest godbrother to inspect the damage.
It isn't anything that a quick Episkey can't fix, but one look at the murderous glare on James' face is enough to convince Teddy to never play with Albus again.
It's easier that way, the best way to stop their sibling rivalry.
At least that's what he convinces himself it is.
.o0o.
"Teddy," she grins, "I didn't think you'd come."
He returns her grin as he wraps his arms around her waist, leaning in to press his lips against her brow. Her breath ghosts across his throat as she giggles, her blonde hair shining in the bright autumn sun.
"I did say I would come see you off, didn't I?"
"I hardly saw you this entire holiday," she replies, with a wave of her hand and a hint of teasing in her eyes, "You're always busy with Auror training and when you're not, you're off with James on some adventure or other."
"Hey," he protests, holding his hands up in surrender, "He's only allowed out of the house if he's with me and I can't just let him stay cooped up in Grimmauld all summer."
"I know, I know, your heart is as big as your stomach," she grins, tapping his lithely muscled abdomen with the tips of her fingers, obviously referencing the fact that he had an appetite as voracious as any Weasley.
Still grinning, he dipped his head so that their lips were level and closed his eyes as they met, her mouth opening ever so slightly to grant his tongue access. He feels her hands along his cheeks, tastes the spearmint on her tongue and smirks as she moans against him, tangling her fingers through his hair as he kisses her goodbye.
"OI!"
They fly apart like fire and ice, staring for the source of the interruption, both hoping that it isn't Bill Weasley – who has made it clear that he will mount and stuff the heads of any man who dares touch his daughter upon the wall of his office.
"James," breathes Victoire, her cheeks pink as she regains her composure.
"What are you two doing?" the boy cocks an eyebrow at them, and Teddy wonders if there's always been that much gold in his godbrother's eyes, because he could have sworn that they were pure hazel that very morning.
"Nothing, go away, James," he snaps crossly, slinging an arm around Victoire's waist as a dark look flits across James' face before the boy turns and hurries off into the milling crowd.
"That was rude, Teddy," she murmurs, "He idolises you."
"He needs to give me some space, though," he replies, turning to kiss her once again.
Little does he know, this kiss is the last on they will ever share.
.o0o.
"They say she jumped," murmurs Ginny, tears spilling across her cheeks as she sits at the table, a mug of ice cold coffee sitting before her, looking older than she ever has in all her life.
Teddy sits there, letting her words brush over his shoulder, he's just too numb to process them. The first time he heard the news, it was like a storm of knives burying themselves into his spine and severing the nerves.
She's dead.
Suicide.
He doesn't understand. They'd been happy together. She had been happy, always smiling and laughing with no problems to speak off.
Teardrops fall from his eyes to shatter upon the table as he cries – why did everyone he love have to die? He's starting to think he's cursed, that he'll always be alone because the people who get too close always end up dead.
It feels as though it's just been a week since James caught the pair of them snogging at King's Cross and he wonders, oh how he wonders, if his kiss upon her lips is what condemned her to die.
.o0o.
He kneels beside the headstone, tears splattering across the snowy marble as his fingers tremble.
Victoire Fleur Weasley
02 May 2000 – 17 November 2017
Forever in our Hearts
Teddy feels two skinny arms wrap around his shoulders, and he reclines into James' embrace. He doesn't know how he's going to cope, or how he's going to live now that she's gone, but at least he still has James.
He'll always have his Jamie.
(He doesn't see the golden glint in James' eyes, nor feel the possessive tightness of his hold)
.o0o.
"Did you love her?" James asks, not looking up from his porridge. It's a few months after the funeral and James has been spending more and more time at his apartment. Harry and Ginny have long since given up trying to keep him in Grimmauld . . . it's becoming all too clear that when he's not at Hogwarts, he's at Teddy's.
He starts, looking across the table with a bit of toast halfway to his lips and gazes at the boy across the table. James isn't a boy, though, he's more a man these days. Taller, lankier, the first hints of stubble crossing his cheeks . . . it's a miracle that he's never even noticed his best mate grow up.
James' eyes are lacking their usual gold but he thinks nothing of it, after all, the gold is probably just a constant trick of the light and they've opted to keep the blinds drawn this morning.
"I did," he nods finally, nibbling at his toast. It doesn't hurt so much anymore . . . just as when his grandmother was murdered, he's found solace his only constant.
James.
"I'm sorry," sighs James, and Teddy thinks he's just being kind.
(And it's only years later that he thinks that the apology may have been made of guilt)
.o0o.
It's a boy's kiss, soft and clumsy against his lips, but he finds himself relaxing into it all the same, leaning it to capture the younger boy's mouth with his own and wrapping his lithe arms around the youth before him.
"You're mine," sighs James, nipping at his lip as he tries to pull away, determined to tell his godbrother that he could never do this again.
"Only mine," he adds after a few moments, and his tongue slips into Teddy's mouth.
From that moment on, Teddy knows he's lost.
.o0o.
"Teddy, oh Merlin, Teddy," moans James as he writhes atop the older man, skinny legs wrapped around his waist as the boy throws back his head in ecstasy.
It's so wrong. So perfectly wrong.
And yet somehow, it feels just a little bit right.
.o0o.
"How're you doing?" James asks, dipping his spoon into the bowl of vanilla ice-cream drowned in caramel syrup and bringing a spoonful of it to his mouth.
"Alright, I guess," sighs Teddy, brushing his turquoise hair out of his eyes as he listlessly stirs his already half-melted ice-cream. His world may be breaking down at the foundations but sometimes, when he's just spending time with James, it all feels a little better.
Just a little bit . . . but it's enough.
James is the only one who's ever survived being loved by him. His parents, grandmother and girlfriend all didn't and he really doesn't understand why this is. Maybe it's just that James and he are meant to be, or some other cosmic mumbo-jumbo, but the end result is that his best mate is the one constant he has left.
"Thanks for asking, though, James," he adds, heart plummeting as he sees a scowl cross the boy's face.
"It's Jamie," James snaps, golden-eyed and angry, and Teddy doesn't understand the difference . . . (not yet at any rate)
.o0o.
"My brother isn't a good person, Teddy," sighs Albus, sinking back into the couch with a weary look on his face. Teddy grits his teeth and glares at the kid, fifteen and cocksure, not ready to hear another person denounce his relationship with James Sirius Potter.
"That's a nasty thing to say, Al," retorts Teddy.
"You were practically raised as one of us," the younger boy continues, "I'm sure you've realised that something's off about James."
"There is nothing wrong with James," snaps Teddy, "He loves me and I love him and I don't know why you all just can't accept that."
"Teddy," whispered Albus, his voice soft as though about to divulge some sinister secret that should never see the light of day, "You weren't at Hogwarts when he was. You didn't see the things he'd do to the animals in the Forbidden Forest."
"Liar."
.o0o.
"I've been given a job offer?
"To France, yes," said Hermione, steel-haired but with a smile on her face, "This will be good for your career, Teddy. The Romanians have expressed significant interest in offering you a contract with them after France."
"This is never what I signed up for when I started my Auror-training," he whispers, flicking through the file she's handed to him, finally realising why it is that Hermione Malfoy is so revered in the MLE.
"Nobody talks about this side of the department, Teddy. It's one of those things that the Ministry doesn't like people knowing . . . but remember, this is about more than your career to you."
"And why is that?"
"Your mother was one of the members of the original team before Cornelius had them disbanded in 1994."
.o0o.
"I'm moving to France, Jamie," he says that night over dinner, a roast chicken, and mashed potatoes.
"Why?" his boyfriend's voice is cold, gold swirling through his hazel eyes.
"I've been offered a job with Ghost Division . . . as an agent abroad."
"What does this mean for us?"
"You still have half a year left at Hogwarts, Jamie, it's only Easter. I think that maybe we should take a break, yeah, just for a bit so you can get your NEWTs and I can get settled there, and then we'll get back together."
James trembles, and for a second, Teddy thinks he's going to scream but instead he simply rises to his feet and walks from the room.
(It's an hour later when Teddy realises that the cleaver is gone from the kitchen counter . . . which brings back a memory of another kitchen, and another butcher's knife, and a scared boy hiding beneath the sink with gold in his eyes)
.o0o.
"Hermione," whispers Teddy, eyes wide, heart hammering in his chest as he stares at the ruined dining room. Bile rises to his throat but he swallows it down, biting his lip to keep from screaming at the sight of the headless corpse sprawled across the table.
Blood pools across the room, dripping from the ceiling, and he looks up.
The scream leaves his lips before he can stifle it . . . she's staring at him with the same empty sockets as his grandmother, her dismembered head strung up from the chandelier by her bushy, brown hair.
A glass shatters across the floor and Teddy whirls, blanching in horror at the sight of his cousin, Draco, his face paler than ever before.
"'Mione," the older man whispers before slumping forward, only being spared the brutal floor by Teddy, who catches him as he falls. He embraces his newly widowed cousin, feeling tears prick at his own eyes because yes, he finally sees what he's been missing all these years.
.o0o.
He finds him, soaked through with blood, rocking back and forth against the wall and holding a cleaver in his hands, the blade cutting into his palms.
Teddy approaches gingerly, heart beating erratically fast as James looks up at him with the expression of a deer caught in the headlights. He frowns at the sight . . . the swirls of gold are back within the hazel depths. He doesn't remember them being there for a while – not since he's told Jamie that Hermione offered him a promotion that would take him to France for a few years.
It couldn't be a coincidence that she'd been murdered just hours after James had found out, her eyes cut out in the same manner as had his grandmother's. Come to think of it, Victoire had jumped off that tower just a month after James had caught the pair of them together. Most nights of his childhood, his grandmother had insisted he return home with her rather than stay over with his godparents.
Overall, he didn't see how he couldn't have seen it before.
"Why?" he asks, not looking at the boy on the floor.
"It wasn't me, Teddy," pleads James, seeming to explode with emotion. The boy grabs at his trousers, jerking at his hems and trying to pull Teddy down to him, all the while begging and crying.
"It wasn't me! It was Jamie! I swear it wasn't me."
And Teddy feels his heart break as he kneels beside his boyfriend and takes him in his arms, flinching only at the sight of those hazel eyes, pure and devoid of a single spark of gold. It makes him realise what he should have known for years, something that he should have seen.
All that is gold does not glitter.
"Teddy, you're going to stay with me forever, right?" murmurs James, "you're not going to let me go, are you?"
"Jamie . . ."
"It's James, I don't like Jamie. I'm James."
.o0o.
He reaches a hand through the bars, linking his fingers with those of the inmate within. They're sitting side by side, his eyes gleaming wetly as he surveys the cold, dead look in James' eyes.
Something's missing. Something's always been missing.
He's just devastated to have never seen it before.
Teddy strokes a finger across his lover's grime-caked cheeks, turquoise hair tousled in the salty wind as he blinks back a tear. His lips part, and for a moment he imagines seeing a sliver of his James surface within those hazel depths . . . but his James is long gone, buried deep within the other one.
A last whisper of adieu leaves his lips as James blinks at him, uncomprehending.
"Forever is not enough."
.o0o.
-Written for the Greek Mythology Mega-Prompt Challenge: Cerberus (Write about someone with split personalities)-
-Written for the Into the Night Challenge-
-Written for the What If Competition: What if a piece of darkness lived on if Harry? What if it corrupted his firstborn son?-
-Also to be counted as my entry for Open Category 3 on HPFC as my Next-Gen Category Entry-
-Also Written for the 50 Prompts, 50 Characters Competition: James Sirius Potter; The Killers: When You Were Young-