Copyright: What elements of this story that I own, and are not the property of anyone else, are licensed CC-BY-NC-SA. That means that you can take anything in this story, up to and including the whole thing, and use it however you like, as long as you promise me three things:
1. You will link back to me (preferably to my author page)
2. You will not make money off whatever you do
3. You will share your work under these same conditions

This story is dedicated to 'Fat ppl are harder to kidnap' - whose username is a reminder to us all to always look on the bright side of life - who requested something along these lines after greatly enjoying The Truth About Rose Weasley. I don't normally take requests, but I liked this idea so much I just couldn't help it. No promises about regular updates, but I'm not going to forget about it.

This is a prequel of sorts to my other story 'The Truth About Rose Weasley,' which is a Harmony (Harry/Hermione) story I wrote in response to a challenge several years ago. Although I live and die by my Harmony, this story is not about either Harry nor Hermione - it's about Rose and Ted. I hope you enjoy!

Also I hope you liked my little poem in the summary; I'm not much of a poet, but I couldn't resist just this once.

Chapter 1

"As you leave these walls for the next stage of your adventure, to exert your own influences on the world, I ask that you remember two things only:

"Look around yourselves, at your fellow graduates, and at your teachers. You have spent seven years in this castle. You have made friends, lost them, made enemies, and turned them into friends. You have won victories, and suffered defeats. You have loved, lost, and learned to love again. You have inspired, and been inspired; led, and followed; suffered, and overcame your suffering. This place, and these people, are a part of you, and you are all a part of it, and the first thing I hope you remember is that whoever you are, wherever you go, and whatever you do, that Hogwarts will be here to welcome you home.

"The second thing I hope you remember, likely the most valuable lesson you will learn at this school, is this: Never, under any circumstances, tickle a sleeping dragon.

"Ladies and gentlemen; alumni, families, and tomorrow's generation of students: I am honoured to be the first to present to you the Hogwarts graduating class of 2024."

Rosemary Weasley's hear swelled at these words, as the ancient Headmistress made official the culmination of seven long years of effort; of sweat, ink, toil, and more the occasional broken bone. She did indeed look over her classmates, desperately trying to reconcile the memory of ruddy-faced eleven-year-olds to the reality of the thirty-nine men and women surrounding her. She also looked into the greater crowd, at the parents and younger siblings. She saw her mother, beaming with unconditional pride; she saw her Uncle Harry, tired and worn-down as ever but, in a rare display, happy. She saw her extended brood of cousins, younger and older, all putting aside their differences and petty jealousies to be delighted at the accomplishments of Family.

Rose was feeling a lot of feelings at that moment, but all could be summed up in three words; the words she used to close the speech that she, as the most academically-esteemed student in their year, was obligated to give; the words that she delivered with such emphasis, emotion, and deep-set existential awe that every student, even those who had never liked her (and there were more than a few of those), was moved to applause:

"We did it."

Rose took a deep breath of fresh air, revelling in the stillness and silence of the Burrow's back yard. The extended Weasley Clan had been gathered together to celebrate, on the day of both Rose's and her cousin Albus' graduation, but Rose soon discovered, to her dismay, that the show was mostly about her. She felt so bad for Al, who tried so hard to distinguish himself, and she was so exhausted by her mother's praise, her grandmother's overbearing excitement, and her Aunt Ginny's constant and futile attempts to direct attention to her middle child that Rose had finally begged leave and sought refuge in the Outside.

Nor was she the only one who had been driven out by the indoor Circus, as she discovered when a plume of noxious smoke sent her coughing and sputtering. "Sorry," Its owner grunted, not sounding anything like it, and Rose turned to chastise Ted Lupin.

Ted wasn't officially a Weasley – he and Rose were something like fourth cousins, or first cousins four times removed, or somesuch – but he was Uncle Harry's godson, and the old Auror had all but adopted the boy when his grandmum had died of cancer, so he ended up getting strong-armed into attending most family functions.

Ted was, as he always was, exceedingly cool. Every element of his Self, from his black slacks to his just-rumpled-enough button-down to his leather jacket to his arrogant grin to his strategically ruffled hair to the glowing cigarette dangling from his upper lip; everything down to the way he lunged on that bench, was a contributing factor to his overarching theme of coolness.

The overall look was very impressive, but the effect was ruined once you knew, as Rose did, that Ted's flawlessly flawed looks were as effortless to him as breathing, and about as permanent as the girl he typically had on his arm – though, oddly, not tonight. Metamorph genes had that advantage, among others.

But it was still a little impressive, and Rose would be lying if she said her heart didn't flutter just a little tiny bit. "Those things will kill you, you know." She noted drily, maybe compensating a little too much for her cursed involuntary reaction, giving a slight nod to the death stick in his mouth.

He took a long drag on it, the smug grin never leaving his face, but he turned his head before blowing a plume of smoke. Rose wondered internally if he was being considerate of her distaste, or merely taking the advantage to show off his jaw. "I know." He answered nonchalantly. "Still better than being inside, am I right?"

He was, unfortunately, though Rose didn't care to admit it. Still, conversation with Ted was better than no conversation. "Maybe slightly." She said, grudgingly. "I feel bad for Al, more than anything; he tries so hard, but all anybody wants to talk about is me."

"You're the favourite," Ted agreed, "Everybody knows that. I think even Harry likes you better than his own kids."

"That's bollocks."

"Maybe," He grinned, "Top of your class seven years running, Prefect, Head Girl, damn fine Chaser. What's that compared to the wee Potters?" He took another drag. "Hell, even Hermione doesn't have a record like that."

Rose had to flush as her virtues – and in her less humble moments she admitted that there were many of them – were extolled. "Didn't know you were such a fan."

Ted shrugged. "Harry won't shut up about it, tell you the truth. Drives Jimmy up the wall; poor bloke thought Quidditch Captain, then Head Boy was an accomplishment." A drag, and a pause, and then he tossed out an afterthought: "Plus I like to keep tabs on the good-looking birds, and I've got to admit that you got pretty hot."

Rose's flush deepened, ostensibly from annoyance – the last boy who had made such a crude attempt to hit on her had earned himself a painful reminder of her transfiguration skills, and a week's detention to boot – but she also enjoyed the comment more than she was willing to admit. He may be an ass, but Ted Lupin was an attractive man when he chose to be (which was often), and it wasn't every day that an attractive man told her she was 'hot.' In retrospect, the testicular transfiguration might have played a part in that. "That's just like you, isn't it?" She wondered aloud, very effectively schooling her voice into the Head Girl tone that had kept all the castle in thrall. "You seem like you're going to have a pleasant, respectful conversation, like a grown-up, and then you spoil it with your crudity."

But Ted was not cowed. "What can I say, Rose-petal? I've got to be me."

She bristled, no longer having to fake her indignation. "Call me that one more time, Theodore, and not even you will be able to regrow the things I shrink."

But his grin only widened. "I've called you Rose-petal since you were a little girl."

"I'm not a little girl anymore, as you were so keen to point out a moment ago."

"And yet you're getting so worked up over a harmless little nickname," He pondered aloud, making a great show of stroking the great white beard that erupted on his chin, and died away just as quickly. Rose had no good answer to that challenge. She knew she was being childish, that it didn't matter what he called her as long as he respected her, but she really hated that nickname. She could tell, from the way his grin widened still more that Ted had accurately interpreted her lack of retort. "But all right then. If you're not a little girl, what are you?"

"An adult." Rose replied immediately. That was a question she was well-used to answering; Gramma Weasley especially had a habit of treating her family as much younger than they really were, though the behaviour was by no means restricted to her alone. A thought occurred to her then, and she quickly retracted: "An adult female."

Though his grin indicated that something, no doubt some nefarious plot against her, was brewing in his mind, Ted's tone of voice was surprisingly deferential. "Adult female it is, then. And what, my adult female, is your plan now?"

"What do you mean?"

"Don't tell me you don't have a plan!" He exclaimed, and Rose wasn't sure where genuine shock ended and Ted's natural flamboyance began (Although his hair turning brilliant green was likely a good clue). "Even Al has a plan, if you can call 'Seeking for Appleby' a plan; surely the Great Rosemary Weasley has the next thirty years of her life planned out, if not more."

Rose flushed again, mentally cursing the weakness of her constitution and the copious quantities of Butterbeer she's imbibed while still suffering the Cirque d'Weasley. "Well, if you must know, I want to be a healer."

"A noble calling."

"I've wanted it ever since dad got sick." She added quietly. Not even Ted had a witty retort to that. Ron Weasley had grown very, very sick in Rose's third year, and had been in and out of the hospital ever since. His condition had grown so severe that he had difficulty speaking, and could not walk under his own power. "I've already accepted an offer to start my first Foundation Year at St. Mungo's."

"Afya." Ted replied, raising his cigarette in toast.

"What?"

"It's Swahili; means 'Cheers.'"

"I didn't know you spoke Swahili."

Ted grinned. "I don't. I just know enough to get by in the pubs." Rose rolled her eyes; typical. "But what about this Mungo's offer? Seems pretty sweet, but I get the feeling you're not so enthused."

Rose sighed. She was enthusiastic; she'd been over the moon when the owl had arrived, and she hadn't slept more than ten minutes at a time for the whole week prior to receiving that response. "I'm a little scared," She found herself admitting. "Not really about the job, though. I just need to get out of my parents' house."

Ted nodded, a rare moment of authenticity breaking through. Ron and Hermione Weasley's confrontational relationship was legendary. "So why don't you?"

"But the job doesn't pay very well. Not enough for anything livable, at any rate."

"Why don't you live with me?" Ted asked, slightly quicker than seemed reasonable. Rose shot him a look, but he recovered quickly. "I've got a little two-bedroom, just around the corner from the Alley; no more'n fifteen minutes to the Hospital by Tube, or I've got a Floo connection, when I remember to pay the bill."

"Don't you already have a flatmate?" She asked hesitantly, simply aware of some prior conversation to that effect.

"He moved out a month ago." Ted answered with a shrug. "No great loss; sonuvabitch was always stealing my beer."

Rose was greatly conflicted by this offer. On the one hand Ted was, by all accounts, a boor; crass, sexist, sarcastic, and an ego as big as all outdoors. On the other hand, could he really be less bearable than her parents?

Rose loved her parents dearly, and she know they loved her, but the blazing, screaming, plate-smashing rows that had been the norm when she was little had not abated; if anything they had grown worse in recent years. Intellectually she knew that her parents were under a lot of stress: Ron's condition meant that he couldn't work, and required assistance performing many basic tasks – and while Rose and Hugo tried to be helpful when they were around, there were some things they just could not do – and Hermione's job demanded long hours at the office, away from her family and her husband. Rose knew all of this, but it was hard not to think, on a deep and instinctual level, that her mum and dad really didn't like each other very much. She felt bad leaving Hugo to deal with them all on his own, but she needed to get away.

"If I do this," Rose began slowly, weighing her words, "Do I have your guarantee that you're not going to do anything…untoward?"

Ted laughed a hearty, barking laugh. "What on Earth do you think I would do?"

"I don't know!" She snapped, flushing furiously. "Whenever I see you, you've got a different girl on your arm, and you smoke, and you ride that motorbike of Uncle Harry's like a lunatic; if this is you playing nice for the family, I shudder to think of the depravity you get up to in private."

Ted only grinned as she recited his famous reputation, seemingly all the wider for the disapproving tone of voice she took, which only served to infuriate her more. "Fair does." He answered. "I promise, you will be free to live your life as separately from my depravity as you like."

"You swear?"

He laughed. "On my honour as a gentleman." He had to laugh again at the look she gave him; his honour, and indeed his 'gentlemanly' status, was not greatly esteemed by anyone in the extended Weasley family. "Okay." He said, flicking his cigarette away and growing serious for the first time. "On my mum and dad."

Rose knew better than to question that oath; respecting the sanctity of predeceased parents was a natural consequence of growing up with Harry Potter in your life. She knew where Uncle Harry went every Halloween, where he and her mother had spent every Halloween night for as long as she could remember. And she knew where Harry took Ted every June, when all of Wizardkind celebrated, on the one day Ted Lupin never smiled. "In that case," She answered simply, "Okay."

His face instantly split into his trademark grin. "Excellent. I'll owl you the details. Now you'd better get back in there, Miss Adult Female; heaven knows the Show can't go on without its guest of honour."

She moved to hit him, but he dodged out of the way with a laugh. Internally, Rose groaned. What had she gotten herself into?