My name is Teddy Remus Lupin. I'm twenty years old, and all I know about myself are ten facts. Ten facts that make up pretty much my entire life.
Fact one: My parents are dead.
When I was a kid I used to get really upset every time that was mentioned. It still upsets me now, but I've learnt to control it. I've got to grips with the fact that I'll never meet them, but that doesn't mean I'll never know them. I know them through books, photographs and talking to their friends. But not personally, like a son should. Their death has shaped me, made me into the person I am now. But the tragedy of it still haunts me every night.
Fact two: My parents loved me.
That one tiny statement was what got me through childhood and my teenage years. They loved me. I'd never hear them say it outloud, but I knew it, deep inside myself. Through talking, photographs and visits to the pensive, I had collaborated so much about the parents I never knew. My father was a werewolf. My mother was clumsy. My father was a teacher. My mother was a metamorphagus. My father liked chocolate, books and rude jokes. My mother liked pink, taking photos and sleeping. They loved each other, and they loved me. That was why they died.
Fact three: My parents sacrificed themselves for me.
When I was younger, I didn't understand that one at all. All I knew was that they had left me to fight and got themselves killed. They left me. No parent should ever leave their kid unless they have to. But now I know. My mother and father left me to fight for me. They left to fight for a better world for me to live and grow up in. I once asked my godfather Harry why they hadn't just stayed at home - there were plenty of other people who would fight! But Harry had taken me aside and told me very plainly that my parents were the sort of people who felt guilty if other people were dieing for them, risking their lives when they were just sitting at home. And thinking about it, I would be a little upset if they were those sorts of people who didn't care about anyone else. So instead of being angry with them, I'm proud.
Fact four: My family love me.
And they do. They really do. My grandmother Andromeda, despite loosing her husband, daughter and son-in-law, still managed to quell her grief and help raise me. How strong is that? She's probably one of the most determined, strong women I know. Along with Molly Weasley. Mother to seven, she lost one son in the war and got another back. She must be made of pretty stern stuff to raise six boys. And she treats me like one of them - Harry said she was the same to him. She treats me like I really am family, like I'm another Weasley grandkid. She really made me feel at home, whenever I was with her. And that brings me onto my next fact.
Fact five: My godfather is Harry Potter.
Wow. Where do I start with this one? Harry Potter, the famous slayer of Lord Voldemort. You would think I'm very lucky to have him as my godfather, wouldn't you? Well, actually, I am. He's an amazing godfather - he's always gone out of his way to make sure I feel included and loved. He and Ginny are like an uncle and aunt to me - much more than godparents, but never quite parents. In a strange way, I wanted them to be my parents…and yet I didn't. If Harry were my father and Ginny mother, my parents would be alive. But I knew that no one could ever take the place of Remus and Nymphadora Lupin, and I didn't want anyone to take their place. I wanted to keep their memory alive, and keep their spirit inside me.
Fact six: I was in Gryffindor
This one statement says so much about me. When the sorting hat was put on my head, it's mind changed about which house as quickly as my hair did. At first, it thought I was clever enough to be put in Ravenclaw. Then it saw my clumsy side and wanted to put me in Hufflepuff. It decided against it at the last minute and put me in Gryffindor. I was thrilled - Gryffindor, like dad! What was the description of a Gryffindor? Their daring, nerve and chivalry set Gryffindors apart. I was certainly daring - I'd pulled off many a prank during my time at Hogwarts and got away with most of them. My grandmother thought I had a nerve, too. And chivalry? Well, I was working on that one. Maybe, if I acted like a true Gryffindor, like dad, I would make him proud some day.
Fact seven: I am an Auror.
I work at the ministry, in a league of witches and wizards who have been specially trained to fight the Dark Arts. Not that there is much action going on at the moment. Thanks to Harry, Voldemort is dead, and his followers are either pushing up the daisies or locked up in Azkaban. Bellatrix Lestrange, the woman that killed my mother, is dead. Antonion Dolohov, the murderer of my father, won't be leaving the company of dementors for…well, ever. I made sure of that. Nowadays, we mostly just do paperwork, with the occasional excursion if someone gets into their head to do something stupid. But its good - I get flexible hours and I'm happy. I'm following in the footsteps of my parents.
Fact eight: I hate being judged.
Why would I be judged? Well, my great aunt, member of the notorious Black family and most devoted supporter of Voldemort, killed my mother in cold blood. My father was a werewolf. My godfather is Harry Potter. Is that enough? I have to cope with having Black heritage - I still get visits from good old auntie Bella's mates trying to kill me. But most of them are in Azkaban now, seeing as I'm an Auror. And being half-werewolf doesn't help either. When I was a baby, the Ministry was very anti-werewolf, and nothing much has changed. It took me a long time to get a job, after having to assure many people that I was not actually a werewolf, and I didn't turn into one during the full moon. Sure, I felt a little strange once a month and developed a liking for meat, but nothing that could possibly harm anyone else. But still I am judged, because my father took that risk in passing on his genes to me. And I say, why not? Even if I had got the werewolf genes, he had created new life, hadn't he? He and my mum had brought someone new into the world. And that was all that mattered. Then they would sneer at me and tell me that I'm so much like my hero godfather, Harry Potter, who stuck up for anything with two legs and a brain. So I tell them I'm proud to be like him, and who gives a damn what you think anyway? And I walk away.
Fact nine: I love Victoire.
Ah, I thought we'd get to this point soon. Victoire Weasley. She was my playmate when I was younger, and my best friend. I always thought that we'd be that close forever. When I went to Hogwarts she was distraught, as she would not be joining me for another two years. When she came, we spent a lot of time together. Not only did I desperately want to preserve our friendship, but also I had promised her father, Bill, that I would look after her. From the way he looked at me, I gathered exactly what he implied. And that meant I spent most of her first year following behind her in corridors, swatting away the stray hands and wands that went out for her bum! I was asked many times whether I was her older brother. She would laugh and say no, and I would growl and remind them who my father was, and remark casually on the fullness of the moon. That normally sent them running. Then she would laugh and I would smile and she would look up at me with those baby-blue eyes of hers…but it wasn't until my sixth year and her forth that I worked out what was happening. I realised I wasn't just spending time with her to stop people trying to grope her (by her third year she had become quite competent at it - it seemed she'd inherited her auntie's talent for bat-bogey hexes); I was spending time with her because I wanted to. And, to my delight, she wanted to spend time with me as well. After a few events down by the lake and in the Gryffindor common room, we started dating.
Fact ten: She loves me.
Of course, it was complete scandal when little Vikki Weasley was found to be going out with a boy two years older than her, and a half werewolf at that. But as long as I didn't care, she didn't. Even when I left Hogwarts we stayed close - we met up every Hogsmead weekend and I got time off work every holiday. And I know, deep in my heart, that I love her so much. I never want to loose her. I can't bear the thought of her being with someone else!
So tonight, when I get back from work, I'm going over to Shell Cottage to talk to her dad. I don't know what he'll say, but I hope she says yes. Wish me luck, mum and dad! I know if you met Victoire, you'd love her.
I've got to go now, its four o-clock and I'm going home to have a quick shower before I visit Bill.