Disclaimer: 'Harry Potter' belongs to J.K. Rowling - NOT me.

This fanfiction will have several chapters each assigned to one mood of Teddy Lupin, today's chapter is on anger...

Please review.

Chapter One: Teddy Lupin's Temper

There have only ever been two times in my life that I can remember being truly angry. Gran says I have the famous "Tonks Temper", just like my Mum and my Granddad Ted before me. I don't make a habit of getting angry, but when something hurts me enough it's like I explode into rage.

The first time I got angry, was when I was a blue-haired, hyperactive six-year-old. Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione had decided to take me and four-year-old little Victoire to a local Muggle park. Harry and Ginny had just got married, because I remember me and Vicky at the same age sat underneath a wedding table munching on stolen bits of cake and getting covered in icing. Me and Vicky were best friends; I'd go to the end of the earth for her, and I know she'd do the same for me.

"C'mon Vicky." I said, my voice sticky and sweet. "Let's go play."

I took Victoire's hand and we both went lolloping off, having the best time in the whole world. Ginny and Hermione sat on a nearby bench, keeping an eye on us and discussing "women's things". Ron and Harry were happier to linger near the swings, and no doubt discuss manly things like Quidditch or how things were going at the Auror Department. Victoire clambered onto a brightly coloured roundabout and bounced up and down merrily.

"Push me round Teddy!" She squeaked excitedly. I swung the roundabout round with all my might, Victoire laughing and squealing when suddenly everything came to an abrupt halt. A taller, Muggle boy had stormed over suddenly intent on getting on the roundabout himself. He pulled it to a sharp stop sending Victoire tumbling to the ground. There was a horrible ear-splitting cry and all I could see was little Vicky, with dirt on her coat and a bloodied knee and a pompous, sneering Muggle boy who continued playing happily. As Hermione and Ginny dashed over to little Vicky, I clambered onto the roundabout and gave the Muggle boy the hardest shove I could muster sending him toppling to the floor, quite alike Victoire had only moments before.

"Don't push down my friend!" I said crossly, glaring down at him.

The Muggle boy's mother was over in an instant, plucking her whimpering son off of the ground and loudly claming her indignation. Harry sprinted over and seized my hand tightly.

"You must keep your son under control." The Muggle woman said angrily, while her son howled pathetically.

"Yes I will, I'm very sorry…" Harry said hastily. He tried to grab me under the armpits so he could pick me up, but I wriggled and flinched from his touch. I stared at my godfather ferociously, apparently looking almost identical to my mother in that moment.

"You're not my Daddy!" I screeched. Harry lifted me into his arms but I kicked wildly, punching and pounding upon his shoulders with my tiny six-year-old fists. I was furious. Why should a nasty Muggle boy have a mother when I didn't? Why had Harry pretended to be my Daddy?

When he got me home I refused to speak to him for a full week. I squirmed away from his cuddles, ignored him when he offered me Honeydukes chocolate and scowled and scowled whenever he tried to speak to me. I only forgave him because it was upsetting Gran; she said I was being as stubborn as my Dad had been when he'd left Mum. I didn't know what that meant, so I didn't ask and I hugged Harry when I next saw him and said "sorry" even though it was all his fault in the first place.

The second time I felt the "Tonks Temper" was when I was older, and in my fourth year at Hogwarts. I was stood in the courtyard with Victoire and my best mate, fellow-Gryffindor Tony Gibbons. I was entertaining them with repeatedly changing my hair colour into every colour I could imagine; garish shades of bright green to the Gryffindor colours, and then to bright yellow so I almost resembled a banana. Victoire and Tony were both in fits of giggles, and began requesting their favourite colours:

"Do Weasley red!" Victoire demanded grinning. I happily obliged, adding a few spattered freckles across my nose.

"Do silver!" Tony said excitedly. I let my hair turn as silver as a Sickle, as shining as the moon when the trouble began.

"Oh, it's the freak boy." A snarling voice called jeeringly. I turned around, my hair flushing scarlet, to see Jasper Sharpe, a Slytherin boy with a cruel smirk and a downright bully. "What are you doing, shape shifter?"

I felt Victoire's hand on my arm and it calmed me. I ignored Jasper and turned my back on him, choosing to fiercely engage myself in a complicated conversation with Tony about our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.

"Professor Tinsley seems alright." I said trying to appear thoughtful "He didn't give us that much homework."

"Your Dad used to be a Professor here didn't he, Lupin?" Jasper yelled.

I span around in an instant.

"Yeah. So what if he was." I replied. I couldn't just stand there and ignore someone badmouthing my Dad. I wouldn't stand for it.

"We all know what he was, and what you are." Jasper smirked and glared at me as if I was someone not fit to even to breathing the same air as him.

"What do you mean?" I asked. My insides were bubbling with suppressed anger; he better not be talking about what I thought he was-

"Werewolf." Jasper said loudly. "Mind you, why they'd ever let half-breeds into this school-"

And all the rage inside of me burst into a massive explosion. I wasn't thinking anymore. All I knew was that I hated Jasper Sharpe and I wanted him to feel as much pain as possible, so he could try to imagine what transformations under the full moon were like for my Dad. I pounced on him, kicking and clawing and punching every inch of him. The Slytherins were all crowded around cheering Jasper on, but it soon became clear he wasn't winning. Jasper's movements were slowing and his face was covered in blood.

I pushed him to the floor and glared down at him, trembling with anger.

"Don't you ever say anything about my Dad again." I shouted.

"TEDDY LUPIN!"

I turned and looked up, and saw Professor McGonagall marching towards me. I did the only thing I could think of to do, and that was to run and keep running until I found somewhere safe. I sprinted throughout the hallways, all the while with Professor McGonagall shouting and calling after me. I raced to Gryffindor tower, because I knew that was where I'd feel better. If I could only see them, then I'd be better.

The boys dormitories were empty when I entered and I dashed over to my bed, fishing amongst my trunk and tugging out a torn Muggle notebook. I could hear loud footsteps descending the stair case behind me, but I didn't care I had to find it-

And there it was. Pressed between the pages was the photograph of my Mum, my Dad and a chubby, startled looking baby with a shock of bright blue hair that could only be my younger self. My Dad was holding me and was kissing the side of my head to soothe me; Mum had hold of my tiny little hand and was getting me to 'wave' at the camera. I stared into the photograph until the faces began to blur.

"How did you stand it?" I asked the Dad in the photograph. He just continued to smile, overjoyed with the baby that was trying to grab for the camera. "I'm sorry I got angry, but I didn't want anyone saying that about you."

"Teddy?" For a minute I thought the photograph was talking back to me; then I realised Professor McGonagall, our esteemed and elderly headmistress, was stood behind me.

"I'm sorry." I said. My cheeks were tear-stained and my hair had turned a swirl of light brown and pink like it always did what I got sad about my parents.

She didn't punish me. She made me apologise to Jasper Sharpe, and got him to apologise back. She said I was allowed to go to the memorial garden in the grounds whenever I needed to, and that if I ever heard anyone being nasty like that again I had to tell her before the "Tonks Temper" got the better of me.

Hope you enjoyed that. Please review if you can!