Disclaimer: Characters are the property of JK Rowling.
Prologue
The first thing seventeen-year-old Teddy Lupin registered was the stinging scent of medicine combined with something that was distinctly clean – sterile, even. After that, everything else seemed to assault his newly-awoken senses; the copper taste of blood in his mouth, the scratchy feel of the blankets under his hands, which were laying limply by his sides, as well as the quiet hum of a busy hospital and the murmur of voices from somewhere close by.
Blinking blearily, the young metamorphagus attempted to lean forward, only to be attacked with a throbbing headache and a stabbing pain that originated from between his rib. Teddy groaned and gave up, leaning back against the pillow. He decided to take in his surroundings since he was apparently unable to do much else.
Teddy had already discerned he was in a hospital from the first whiff he'd gotten of the many medicinal potions that came with such a place. He was lying in a large white bed in a large white room, sectioned off by long white curtains. His were drawn almost all the way around his bed, leaving only a small window available from him to see the rest of his room.
There were shadows in front of his curtains, and the voices he'd heard earlier stopped. The curtains were flung back by a tall, black-haired man with green eyes, revealing a large group of people. In seconds, Teddy was wrapped up in a pile of arms and bodies and vivid, vivid red hair.
"Um, excuse me…" he grunted as an elbow barely grazed by the pain on his ribs. "I can't breathe…."
"Give the kid some room!" one of the older redheaded men bellowed. Immediately all of them pulled back, aside from one. A delicate-looking blonde girl flung her arms around Teddy's neck, pressing her face into his collarbones. Teddy could feel tears seeping down his front and onto his shirt.
"Teddy! You're okay! I vas so scared!" the girl sobbed. Teddy, still shocked by the welcome, had a little bit of trouble discerning what she'd said in her heavy French accent.
"Victoire!" A hazel-eyed redhead, who looked like a carbon-copy of the older woman standing next to her, stomped and placed her hands on her hips. "Crushing his esophagus isn't going to let him breathe."
"Shush, Lily." The woman – who had to be the girl's mother – murmured affectionately. "Don't act like you didn't do the same."
"So, my name is Teddy and that's Victoire and Lily." Teddy stated slowly, blinking several times as is that would help him think. "But… who are you guys?"
As if by magic, the whole lot of them froze. They all stared at Teddy with the same wide-eyed expression.
Victoire's head snapped up, looking horrified. "Please tell me you are joking!" she demanded shrilly.
"That isn't funny, Ted Lupin." The raven-haired man who'd opened his curtain before said sharply.
Teddy's brow furrowed. "But I'm not joking. Who are you guys?"
"Somebody get a healer in here," Lily whispered, her face paling. "Now!"
The smallest redhead boy scampered from the room, returning minutes later with a kind old woman with graying hair in a white uniform.
In moments the Potters and the Weasleys were informed that young Teddy Lupin's amnesia was a result from the concussion he'd received from falling off his broom. The same accident that had had him dropping like a stone thousands of feet through the air and cracking three ribs on his left side.
Unfortunately, the biggest surprise was yet to come.