Scars, he'd noticed, were far less common in the muggle world than the wizarding one. Professor Longbottom's face was etched with scars that told of a year of torture. He'd never heard the full story, they still said he was too young. Too young to know the stories behind the late night screams and imprinted slurs and slashes that decorated his family's frames.
No-one stared at old scars these days. They were used to the deep curling scars encircling Uncle Ron's torso; Teddy had traced them all once. They seldom gawped at the tear in Harry's forehead, the jagged lightning that had provided hope for years. These stories he knew, mostly.
He hadn't heard the tale behind the wretched slur littering his aunt's arm. He was almost fully convinced that he didn't want to.
Everyone that he knew had scars. Even if he couldn't see them on their bodies, he saw the scars behind their eyes.
Ginny had always reminded him to never trust something where he couldn't see where it kept its brain. Percy had ruffled his hair and told him that family was far more important than any ambition. Ron always yelled, "CONSTANT VIGILANCE" to make him jump. Hermione made sure that he knew that he always had a choice between what was right and what was easy. He'd forgotten that one far too many times for his aunt's liking, being reckless and clumsy enough to exasperate her.
How had he forgotten all that he knew? Teddy Lupin cursed as he woke in the Hogwarts hospital wing, his worried godparents watching over him.
He'd found the mirror one night whilst exploring under his godfather's invisibility cloak. He'd been startled at first by the faces peering out at him the battered woman and man, both smiling. The man had old scars, much older scars than Uncle Ron. Scars like Bill's scars, claw marks. The woman had scars in her eyes, she had seen death. She had dealt death. She was a soldier.
Teddy knew these people, he had their medals in a box in his trunk alongside their photographs and their wands. They were his parents and they recognised him, unlike the chocolate frog card portraits which just stared out blankly, not seeing his similar features.
He had sat in front of the mirror for merlin knows how long before they finally found him. He didn't understand why they wouldn't let him return to his parents at first. He could see Ginny crying as he fought her to return to the mirror. He heard Harry's muttered words of sympathy as he tried to calm his godson down.
What he didn't hear was the anger behind Harry's sympathy, anger at the mirror that had left his godson thin and pale, a shell of the child he had once been. Harry had caught a glimpse once more into the depths of the mirror that had captivated him in his first year, seeing for himself once more the faces of his dead friends hand in hand with his family. He saw the Lupins with their son, Cedric and Cho, Fred and George, Dobby and Winky, countless others, smiling. All smiling and waving.
Such alluring smiles.
Then his eyes had turned to the boy he had raised, sitting pale and thin in front of the glass.
He didn't waste his time telling Teddy not to forget to live.
He didn't hesitate before blasting the ancient frame with a strong reducto.
He hadn't hesitated.
And how he wished that he had.
The image of his family and friends had frozen, splintering into a thousand fragments before crashing to the ground. Eyes staring up at him, full of love, unmoving.
The splinters of glass had showered over Teddy, his mother's hand glancing off his heart. Teddy had sat, silent amidst the splinters as tears ran down his cheeks.
The tiniest shards of glass had turned Teddy's tears to blood.
He wouldn't move.
He'd merely cried when Harry had lifted his fragile frame into his arms and carried him from the room.
It had seemed that with the mirror, so had shattered Teddy's resolve.
It had taken an hour before his skin warmed to feel as though Teddy was alive. It had taken two further hours before Teddy began to respond, panicking at the changed world around him, desperate to return to the mirror. Ginny clung to him, using her full strength to try and hold back his desperation.
Harry gave him a shard of his mother's smile, he kept it wrapped under her medal for years to come.
He'd also keep the scars from the shattered magical glass, finally feeling part of his family, with a horror story to teach his god-siblings about life.