The Woes of Primary School
By Darke Wispers
D: I do not own Harry Potter. I merely use the characters from the stories because my imagination is limited to already written stories.
A/N: So, long story short, I just had my heart broken yesterday, so I read every sad Teddy story in the archives last night. Now, my eyes are puffy and I'm sleep deprived, the guy I love is dating a slut, and I'm not ready to turn fourteen tomorrow. Happy Birthday to me? So, I figured Harry would make Teddy go to Primary school, and this is what happens. There will be 6 chapters. Sorry for any American Terms. I'm working on it.
Lauren Burns had seen several odd children in her many years of teaching, but Teddy Lupin was the strangest. He didn't pick his nose and eat the bogeys, or cause wild disruption in the class like the other oddballs. In fact, the only odd thing about him was his hair, which seemed to change colours every day. What made him odd though, were his parents. She had never met Teddy's parents before, and was beginning to think he was being neglected. His Uncle came to pick him up every day, and no one had come to Meet the Teacher night. Whenever Lauren mentioned Teddy's parents, or anyone's parents really, Teddy would frown and stop talking to whoever was next to him for a moment. This odd behavior was a mystery to Lauren Burns for nearly the whole year, until May came.
Mother's day was always an exciting time in Mrs. Burns's class, because she celebrated it just as enthusiastically as Christmas. The children always made gifts, and they read stories about mothers for weeks. The first day of celebration though, they always wrote poems about their mothers. This didn't seem harmful at all, until Teddy Lupin came into her class.
Mrs. Burns worked her way around the large room, talking to every child about their poem. They sat huddled in groups of four around a table and coloured to their hearts content. She listened to children tell them how their mother "made really good foods" or "made my boo-boo feel better" or even "bought them lots of toys". She nodded happily, running from table to table, until she reached the very middle table of the room. Jane and Sarah were chatting animatedly, and James was scribbling furiously on his papers, but Teddy was crying. Not small tears, not "my crayon broke" tears, not even "my mommy doesn't like me tears". These were heartbroken tears that were too wise for a young boy.
"Teddy." Lauren Burns whispered to the child. "Teddy, what's wrong?" Teddy shook his head, and pointed to his blank paper.
"Do you need help writing?" she probed. Teddy nodded. "What does your mother do for you?" she asked. Teddy shook his head.
'"Dunno," he sobbed.
"What does she like to do?" Mrs. Burns pressed harder.
"Dunno," he whispered and began sobbing harder. Divorced parents, Lauren thought sadly.
"What does your daddy say about her?" she pursued the subject desperately.
"Nothing." Teddy sniffled. Lauren stared in disbelief. The man said nothing about his wife? How horrid!
"How about your Uncle?" she asked, hoping for something.
"Brave. Harry says she was brave, just like daddy. He says mummy didn't want to leave me," Teddy whispered finally. Mrs. Burns stared for a moment, before a tear slipped from her eye.
"Teddy," she began cautiously. "Is your mum… dead?" she asked. Teddy nodded silently, tears drying slightly. "And your dad?" she asked, not really wanting to know.
"With mummy." Teddy murmured. Lauren nodded.
"Do you have a grandmum or an aunty you can write a poem about?" she pressed. Teddy nodded.
"But I don't wanna. I wanna write about my mummy, just like James and Sarah and Jane do!" he cried.
"Then," Lauren searched helplessly to find something to tell the child. "Then write what you want to tell her." She conceded. Teddy nodded, picked up his crayon, and began to write.
Later that day, when all the children were gone, Lauren Burns picked up the poems and searched frantically for one boy's. She found the single sheet of paper and began to read, tears falling from her eyes.
Mummy, I miss you
Grandromeda does too
She cries a lot when I say
I thought I heard your voice today
Harry says you were really nice
And brave and made a sacrifice
He said you didn't want to leave
And I shouldn't try to grieve
He also says your hair was pink
You were a lot like me, I think
Your son, Teddy
