See, while I don't own Harry Potter, I do own my brain.
And this happens because of that.
I'm not apologising, just so you know.
The worst moment since the end of war hit Harry hard. He hadn't been expecting it, no one had been expecting it.
Harry had left his office before he even finished reading the memo. All he needed to read was Auror Lupin in St Mungo's, critical.
And Harry didn't react calmly, he ran through the corridors. He didn't care about the people turning to stare as the Head Auror ran through St Mungo's, he had one thought on his mind: Teddy.
Teddy was now twenty five, and had been an Auror for only five years. And when Harry got alerted that the raid had gone wrong, his heart had stopped completely. Teddy was his mother's age when she had died, it couldn't be like this. Teddy had been helping a group of five Aurors in a search of an old Death Eater hideout that had been reported because someone had seen suspicious activity, there wasn't supposed to be any danger.
Suddenly it was 1998 again, suddenly he was walking into that Great Hall and seeing two peaceful bodies- suddenly it was happening all over again.
He stopped in front of a desk, the Welcome Witch startled as he slammed a fist down to get her attention. "Teddy Lupin- Edward Lupin- Auror- where is he?" Harry demanded, panting.
"I can go find a Healer to-"
"No, don't go find a Healer!" Harry snapped. "Tell me where he is!"
"Any Aurors brought in today were taken to Spell Damage-"
Harry was gone before she finished her sentence. He raced up to the Fourth Floor, grabbing the first Healer he saw. "Edward Lupin!" He demanded and the Healer, clearly shaken from being grabbed so roughly, pointed down the corridor to the room at the end.
Harry didn't even thank the Healer, rushing to the room. He could see the sign above the door, which made him feel even worse: Resuscitation
The door was open, and there were nearly a dozen Healers in the room, yelling codes and terms Harry didn't understand. There was one sentence he fully understood, as the room seemed to freeze.
"Time of death, 5:13 pm." A Healer's firm voice said and Harry snapped.
"No!" He yelled, entering the room. "He's not dead, you bring him back!"
"Mister Potter-" A Healer said, stepping forward and placing a hand on his chest, trying to push him back. "Mister Potter, please-"
"He's not dead!" Harry yelled, pointing at the Healer who had announced the death. "Keep trying! Bring him back!"
Harry shoved forward, towards the bed. It couldn't be Teddy, it wasn't Teddy. The man laying here was pale, bruised and beaten, his hair an uncharacteristic brown. There was no denying this was Remus' son- the resemblance was too strong- and Harry found himself clutching the man's shoulders.
"Teddy, don't die- don't do this-" Harry begged, but Teddy didn't move, Teddy didn't even breathe. "Teddy!" Harry yelled, and before he knew it, he was shaking the young man, yelling for him to wake up, yelling for the Healers to do something.
Two Healers grabbed him, dragging him from the room, pushing him against a wall in the corridor, forcing a Calming Draught into his mouth as he continued to struggle and yell at them for not saving his Teddy.
He gave in to the Calming Draught unwillingly, and went limp in the Healer's grasp, sinking to the floor. The Healers pulled him back up, depositing him into a chair nearby, saying something about contacting his family.
Whose family, Harry wondered, because he was Teddy's family. He had promised to protect Teddy, he had promised to be there if Remus and Tonks weren't- and he had failed. Teddy was supposed to grow old- he was supposed to live long enough to actually have grey hair naturally instead of having it when he morphed it in as a joke. He was supposed to have children, and get married, he was supposed to live.
The worst moment since the war was the moment Harry realised he was going to outlive his own godson, and he wasn't sure he could do it.