letters to teddy


"We shouldn't," you whisper, but you don't mean it. His hands running through your hair and down your back and over your shoulders again down to your hands make you forget about everything you ever thought. You forget that boys shouldn't be in a relationship together, especially not boys who are practically brothers. You forget that your brain was trying to fight this.

"Shh." he says, and he keeps kissing you to keep you quiet.

Eventually, though, you both have to breathe. And then it hits you. "Merlin, Teddy, no. We can't." You stand up, you back away, and he is obviously hurt. That's the last thing you wanted. You don't want to hurt anyone. But you can't stay. "I have to go."

"James, don't, please." He stands up now, and he grabs your arm. You start at his touch, so warm, so inviting. It's pulling you back in. You want to give in, you do. His face—those eyes, the ones that drew you to him in the first place—is pleading with you.

"I never thought…I never thought it would come to this," you find yourself saying, which isn't really true, because you dreamed about it for a year before you came to him tonight. You wanted this to happen.

"But isn't it a good thing?"

You stay quiet, but you don't leave. He isn't wrong. You get back into bed, where you stay until sunrise. He doesn't try to kiss you again, but you wish he would.


He is graduating today. That's the first thing that runs through your mind when you wake up. It's been a month since you ran to his bed, and every night since you have wanted to go back. But you'll never have the chance again, not after tonight. There is a graduation ceremony and feast tonight, and the seventh years get a special send off in the morning before everyone else.

Even though it's irrational, you begin to hyperventilate. You get up quietly and go to the lavatory, scared to wake anyone with your panic. You lock the door and stare in the mirror.

You, James Potter, love a boy and not just any boy, a boy who is your cousin, or close to it. And it's wrong, and you hate yourself, but you love him. And if you don't do anything now, he's going to leave and you're never going to get to love him again.

Somehow, you're walking into his room and you're shaking him gently awake and he's blinking at you.

"Whaddyou wan?" he says, still half-asleep.

You lean down and whisper in his ear, "I realised that I love you." Tears sting your eyes as you say it, partly because you're ashamed that you do and partly because you're ashamed that it took you so long to realise it.

He rolls over and rubs his eyes. "Meet me on the Quidditch field in fifteen minutes."

You're there in ten, sitting down in the stands just in time to watch the sun rise. It's early, too early, but you're wide awake and you're terrified for the day to end. Right here, right now, you vow never to fall asleep because then the day will never end, and maybe Teddy will never leave you.

Childhood vows are so irrational, you think, but you don't care.

"James?"

You know it's him, but you don't turn around, "Teddy, I'm sorry that I love you."

He takes you by the shoulders and turns you around so that you're looking straight into his eyes—Merlin, those eyes—and he says the only words you needed to hear. "You are not allowed to be sorry, because I love you back, James. And don't run away from me because you think this is wrong. It's not. Loving someone is not wrong and if it is then I'm bloody wrong too."

You lose yourself in his embrace then, because nothing else matters except holding on to him while he is here, when he is in your arms and you know he's not anywhere else.

"What am I going to do when you're gone?" you ask him, scared of the answer.

"I'll write you every day, James and you'll write me every day, I'll visit on weekends, and when we're older we can have a real relationship. You'll be out in four years, and then everything will be better."

"Promise?"

"I promise."


As you watch his carriage carry him to the train, where you will ride in a compartment with him for the last time, you cling to the promise like a drowning man in the middle of an ocean. Because you are drowning in a sea of Teddy, Teddy everywhere, but you can't quite reach him and he is slipping from your reach every second.

But he promised you.

Right?


The summer is okay. You see him no more than normal, and every moment you have together is spent kissing or looking at the clouds or with Teddy showing off his magic.

But it is one week until you go back to Hogwarts, and Teddy has announced that he is leaving for France in the morning.

"Why are you going?"

"They offered me a job, James. It's a really good job, with their Ministry. Entry-level, but I can move up. It's all I wanted."

"Don't leave me."

"I can't go to Hogwarts with you, James. Don't be stupid," He stops and calms himself, "But we'll write every day, you know that."

"Okay, yeah, every day," And deep down, you wonder if you really believe that.


It is the end of your fourth year, and you are headed home. Your mother wrote you last week to tell you that Teddy was going to be there, as he had gotten some leave from the Ministry. He's doing well, she said, moving up quickly.

This year has hardened you, made you bitterer. You wrote Teddy every day—every single bloody day. You were stupid enough to fall for the idea that he would have time for you, a child, when he was busy being grown up. You doubt every word he said to you.

He wrote you twice, once at the beginning of the year and once at Christmas. He sent his love both times, and a box of nice chocolate at Christmas. Both notes were typed. You miss his handwriting.

You try to plan what you're going to say when you see him, but you give up and fall asleep with dried tears on your face and a terrible feeling in your stomach.


"James," He envelops you in a hug, but you're unflinching, "James, I've missed you so much."

"Teddy," you acknowledge him. You feel petty, like a teenager, but that's what you are, isn't it? You're nothing more than a child to him.

"I'm sorry I haven't written, James, really, I am," He kneels—he's gotten taller in the past year—and puts his arms around you again, "I got so busy, but I read your letters every day."

You push away, "Teddy."

"Yes?"

You're going to say how you can't do this anymore, how you can't love him, but he does something to you that even your teenage brain knows is more than temporary infatuation. You've been in love with him for a long time, and you can't stop that, "I love you. I missed you."

"I love you, too."


It is your graduation. Teddy will be here. He's arriving by Portkey, your father said, and you stand mere inches away from where he is expected to land.

You haven't seen him since the summer before fifth year.

He wrote you a couple times, kept sending chocolates at Christmas. You kept writing him every day for a while, then once a week, and then just whenever something important happened. He occasionally replied, but it was nothing much. Then, once, he mentioned something about his girlfriend. You remember burning the letter, sobbing at two am, and then waking up to write him and ask for a photo of the two.

He sent you one. You burned that, too.

When he finally arrives, clutching a tea mug, you don't know what to do. He's moved on, but you haven't. He puts you through an endless cycle of pain and hurt and love, and it's maddening and it's beautiful.

"Hi, Teddy."

"James. How are you?"

"I'm okay. Yourself?"

"I've been better. You graduated."

"Yeah, I did."

"Good for you, mate, well done. You think you're ready to live in the real world?" He smiles, and saunters over to the refreshment table, grabbing a bottle of water.

"I guess."

Teddy laughs, "I hope so."

"Teddy?"

"Yes?"

"Do you remember when you graduated? What you said to me? What you promised?"

He hesitates, frowns, "That was a long time ago, James. I was wrong, and I'm sorry I led you on. I had to distance us, so that you didn't get the wrong message."

"Oh."

"I'm engaged now, James. But you'll find a nice girl, too," He pats you on the back, "Better go say hi to everyone, announce the engagement. Kitty's coming on the next Portkey."

"That's her?"

"Yeah! She's great, James, you'll really love her."

He says something else, but you're already running across the back lawn, into the house, up the stairs, and into your room. Working methodically, you start a fire in the fireplace. Then, you take the boxes of letters you have saved for years under your bed and you begin to throw each letter in the fireplace.

He finds you on box number three.

"Oh, Merlin. James. Stop it, James. Stop. Please," There are tears in his eyes, and it feels good, knowing you have hurt him.

"No."

"Don't you see? we can't be together! It's…it's wrong!" He turns away from you, whispers "Aguamenti," and the fire goes out.

And suddenly, he is you, and you are him, because now he is the one who says this is wrong and you just can't bring yourself to believe him anymore.

"But it's not," you whisper. "Love is a good thing."

"Not for us, it isn't!" He whirls around, and his voice is raised to a roar. You cower, scared of the Teddy you don't know. His voice breaks. "I'm sorry." He reaches out to hug you, and for some odd reason, you let him. "I want us to be together, I do, James."

And for now, you let that be enough.

Later, you will burn the letters.


A/N: This is a gift fic for Morghen, in the Gift Giving Extravaganza 2013. Pairing: Teddy/James Sirius. I hope you love it, darling. Also written for the If You Dare Challenge with the prompt Innocent Love.

Thank you to Nayla, The Original Horcrux, for betaing this at 4 am.

I would really appreciate it if you'd leave a review, even a short one!

Allie