Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any characters you recognise.
Thanks to my beta Choices HP.
Chapter 1: Torn Apart
Usually, his eyes were a pale aquamarine flecked lightly with golden brown around the edges. But usual wasn't really all that usual for him. When he concentrated particularly hard on something, they would turn a deep, fathomless grey just light enough not to be black. When he was uncertain or nervous, they were vibrant green and, as was often the case, when he was frightened or sad, they would turn forget-me-not blue. On certain, rare occasions, they would echo his father's eyes, with a base of golden brown hinted at in his natural eye colour and copper specks splattered around the pupils. His eyes only looked like this when he was at peace with the world, so its appearance was very uncommon and almost always short-lived.
When he first started at Hogwarts, he tried to be optimistic. It was a chance to get away from his stupid life and his stupid problems so he could just be himself and not have to worry about his sister all the time. He quickly realised how wrong he was to have such hopes. Lupins did not have happy lives. He should have figured that out by then.
The end of his life came only a few weeks into his first year. He got a letter from his father saying that Anastasia was in St. Mungo's and that he should send a return owl telling them whether or not he wanted to be picked up to see her. He could tell by the blots on the page and the shakiness of his father's normally neat handwriting that it was more serious than he was letting on. He thought that maybe his dad wanted to give him the chance to have a normal life, even if that meant sacrificing the bond he had with his sister. But he was scared for the girl, so he wrote back telling them to pick him up.
When Ted and Victoire Lupin showed up to meet their son, his fears were confirmed. His mother didn't look like she'd slept in days and was actually shaking on the spot. His father had clearly been running his hand through his hair, something he only did when he was very nervous, because it was sticking out all over the place in a way that reminded the boy of Uncles James and Al. Both of them had rather bloodshot eyes, though he suspected that his father's at least were only that way because of the lack of sleep. He was sure that Ted Remus Lupin never cried. Ted made to approach his son, but when he let go of Victoire she swayed on the spot and it was obvious that, without her husband there for support, she would simply collapse. The man paused, an arm around his wife to hold her steady, and beckoned the boy forward. He walked up to his dad and, although he knew it looked childish, grabbed the man's hand. Ted looked down at him and asked in a voice that betrayed his emotions, "Are you okay?"
He nodded and grasped his father's hand tighter. "I want to see Anastasia." His fear definitely showed in his voice.
"Okay," Ted's voice broke a little, "You can see her."
With that, they took a portkey away from Hogwarts, landing not far from St. Mungo's. In minutes, they were standing outside her room, waiting for Healer Patil to let them in. It was torture waiting even though the boy did not really want to see what he knew he would when he was allowed into his sister's room. He went in expecting the worst.
What he saw was even worse than he expected. For all the world, she could have been dead. He wondered why his parents had given him the choice not to come; it was very unlike them. Maybe they just weren't sure they had it in them to concentrate on anything but her when she was doing so horribly. Maybe they were in denial and weren't planning on bringing him until they were as sure that she was going to die as he was right then. He wondered what he had done to deserve this…what she had done to deserve it. He didn't know how long he'd been sitting there, by her bed, but he did know that the longer he sat, the less he thought, the less he felt. He wasn't sure if he liked that or not. What he did know was that when he heard his father's voice say, "Grant?" he felt the entire world crash down around him. His dad's voice sounded so weak, so small that the only reason Grant was sure that Ted had said anything was the feeling of complete and utter hopelessness he felt when he heard the man's voice.
He didn't answer. He just collapsed into tears and allowed himself to be pulled into his father's arms.
Five days later, Anastasia was a memory. Grant had spent hours of each day in her room, and the night before, when Healer Patil told them that she had a day left at the most, he had fallen asleep crying over her already lifeless body. He prayed to a God he didn't even believe in that the healer was wrong, that his twin sister would live. When he woke up, his parents were sitting across the room, talking to the healer. He heard her tell them that they would have to be the ones to do it. This made Grant feel even worse. He pushed his dark hair out of his eyes and looked imploringly at his parents. Of course, even if she was kept alive by the healers, Anastasia would never be Anastasia again, but he didn't know what he would do without her. They were twins. They'd been born together, grew up together. She was a part of him. He could already feel that piece being ripped out.
He mother sat down in a chair next to him and pulled out her wand. She was going to do it. She was going to break the magical connection that kept Anastasia's heart beating. Grant had an insane urge to rip the wand out of her hands, but he knew it was no use. To his surprise, though, the muscles in her hand seemed to give out and the wand cluttered to the floor. He watched her turn shakily to her husband and whisper, "Teddy…we can't do this…"
If Grant felt hopeless before, it was nothing to what he felt now. Victoire never called her husband Teddy, never. Once, when Grant had asked why no one called him Teddy when everything up to around Christmas of 2019 said that was his name, his dad had told him that Teddy was dead. He wasn't entirely positive what that meant, but he did not miss the significance of his mother's words.
Ted replied in barely more than a whisper, "Vee, this isn't our daughter. This isn't Anastasia. She's already gone and it's not doing her any good keeping her body alive." Grant knew he was right, but that didn't make it any easier watching his dad lift his own wand in his left hand and end the spell. It didn't make it any easier watching his sister stop breathing. It didn't make it any easier knowing she would never help him pull a prank again. And it certainly didn't make it any easier discovering that, despite what Grant had always believed, Ted Remus Lupin did cry.
It had been five years since Anastasia died. Grant still thought of her all the time, still felt like she was a part of him, just lost somewhere. He had come to realise that the joke shop, the laughter, the happiness that Great Uncle George always seemed to be displaying must surely be a façade. It was impossible for someone who'd lost his twin to be that content with his life.
In his years at Hogwarts, Grant had hardly made friends. Every friendship he had made had been short-lived and awkward because he didn't have the patience to deal with people and didn't have the heart to be close to someone without her. He was not the only one who suffered. His mum would often still cry when she thought he wasn't looking and if Anastasia was ever mentioned, his dad's eyes would turn that same cool grey colour they always did when someone brought up things he didn't like to think about.
At first, his teachers had tried to be understanding, but they had more or less given up on him. The pity he could see in their eyes drove him absolutely mad. Only two of them seemed to have noticed how irritated he got every time they looked at him with those eyes. Longbottom's solution, in all honesty, wasn't much better. He stopped looking Grant in the eyes, which made sense because Grant figured the guy was a bit too much of a bleeding heart to keep the pity out of his eyes. McKnight, on the other hand, now had a very odd look on her face whenever she addressed him. It was as if she was trying to mask her pity, but there was too much familiarity there for her to do it with great success.
These two teachers were probably his favourite. They were the only ones whose classes he even bothered with when he was assigned work and the only ones whose families he bothered with when that day arrived.
The new headmistress had decided that trying new things would help kids get excited about school again and this was one of the new things they were trying. All of the professors had their extended families come and help teach classes, whatever subject each excelled at the most. Longbottom had refused to invite his son-in-law's family to help because, in his words, "The entire castle will be blown up by the end of the first day if they come." He did, however, have both his kids and his son-in-law himself come. Despite everything, Grant had always been rather fond of them. Indeed, Longbottom's son-in-law, who Grant knew as Uncle James even though he was really a cousin, was one of the only people he'd ever allowed himself to get close to. His family had always spent time around the Longbottoms, so it was no surprise that he spoke with the family, but he caught everyone off guard with the McKnights.
Professor McKnight had no children, but her brother did. He brother had grandchildren as well and, although most of them were much older than Grant, one was not. He thought that, at the oldest, the girl couldn't be more than eighteen, a couple years older than him. He didn't approach her. He was never the one to approach anybody, it was always the other way around. She decided to sit at the Gryffindor table because her grandfather and great aunt had both been in Gryffindor. What Grant couldn't explain was why she'd decided to sit next to him, of all people. But she did.
He had dealt with the few family members of his professors who had tried to talk to him quickly and gotten it over with, but somehow it didn't feel right with her. She smiled at him and dimples deepened in her cheeks. "Hi there. I'm Hope McKnight."
Grant considered her for a moment before deciding that answering couldn't possibly do any harm. "Grant."
She gave him a calculating look, her copper eyes twinkling, "That's it? Just Grant?"
He inclined his head. "Yeah. Just Grant."
"Well…I'm hoping you'll grant me my wish then."
He groaned at the puns, "What's that?"
"Tell me your full name."
He paused yet again before answering quietly, "My name is Grant Remus Lupin."
"I knew it!!!" Much to his dismay, she looked genuinely excited. He hated when people were like this. He was a fairly well-kept secret…people knew of course, all about the Lupin family, and everyone knew that somewhere along the way Teddy Lupin (as the press still insisted on calling him) married Victoire Weasley and many even suspected that they had children. But no one knew his name, no one had ever known his name unless they met him in person, and he quite liked it that way. He was certain, however, that Hope had to be just some idiot girl who was excited to meet the child of someone as famous as his father. She must have seen this written on his face because she added, "My great aunt has pictures…from ages ago…and I thought you looked like…" she trailed off, frowning at him.
"Bad cover-up. I've seen pictures of my grandpa and I look nothing like him."
"It was actually…your…cousin I suppose, Sirius Black. You look like him and I knew his only other living relatives were the Malfoys who really look nothing like him so I figured you were probably a Lupin. Sorry if I offended you, I didn't mean…"
He shook his head. "That's fine."
She smiled a little more shyly than she had done before. "Can we start over?"
He sighed and met her eyes. "Why are you even bothering with me?"
"Because you look like you need a friend."
This caught him very off guard, but he didn't like people knowing when they had the power to surprise him, so he took to examining an orange.
"Will you be my friend?"
Him? Friends with someone called Hope? Grant didn't miss the irony there.