A/N: I do not own the image I'm using as cover for this short drabble. I have properly asked the brilliant UpTheHill if I could use it, and she was okay with it. Honest.
It was one of those horrid humid days, the third day of pouring rain that soaked you to the core after standing outside for less than a second. And teenaged Teddy Lupin was feeling really bummed out, since his date with Victoire had to be postponed for yet another day.
He stared glumly, a bit sullen, at the puddles of water forming on the grass across the street. Teddy sighed for the fourth time in the fifteen minutes he'd been sitting there.
Unbeknownst to him, his father and uncle were leaning against the doorframe with pensive look on their aged faces.
"He's miserable, Pads," said Remus.
Sirius stared at the young Metamorphmagus with electric blue hair and clicked his tongue, "There must be something left in the attic for the lad to play with? Maybe one of my old guitars, and we–"
"We–?"
"I can teach him how to play."
The both scurried off to the attic of Grimmauld Place. Leaving the teenager to his sulking.
A loud dying whale sound startled Teddy out of his reverie, enough to check the time and wonder where his dad and uncle might have disappeared to. He called them twice, but received no reply.
As he climbed the steps to the second floor, he heard the loud cackles coming from the attic. The teenager frowned and quickened his pace.
The door opened tentatively, and Teddy was met with the sight of two overgrown men, closer to mid-fifties, than the age the clothes they held in their hands were often associated with. The floor littered with old moving pictures, clothes and trophy replicas.
"Err–dad?" tried Teddy, gawking at the too tight sleeveless crop-top the Werewolf wore, "Um–nice shirt?"
The Marauders stared at the younger wizard with owl-like eyes, both deer caught by headlights, they looked at each other, then back at Teddy, back at each other. A pause, before bursting out into loud guffaws.
"What are you doing?" asked Teddy, a bit harsher, since he clearly didn't understand what was so funny and his cranky mood wasn't being lessened.
Sirius wiped a tear from his silver-grey eyes, cleared his throat, chuckled a bit more, and finally said, "Hey, mate. We were just going through some old stuff we forgot was here. Want to take a look?"
Teddy did not move, but crossed his arms instead.
"Oh c'mon Ted, lighten up."
Teddy glared. His soft green eyes shifting to the same grey as his uncle's.
Sirius shrugged and turned to a box that hadn't been opened yet. His left hand gripping the leather trousers that clearly did not fit him anymore.
"Merlin's left tit! Moony, Moony, mate. Look!" exclaimed the Black heir, lifting an old washed out denim-like, button up, for his best mate to inspect. The unbuttoned trousers slid down his thighs a few inches.
"No," gasped Remus. "I thought I'd lost that thing." He immediately pulled off the cheap top and snatched the recently found long-sleeved shirt. The thing barely slid up to the Werewolf's shoulders, tight enough that if he moved the wrong way the shirt would tear.
"Mate, it doesn't fit! Quit trying to force it on, you'll end up ripping the back!" whined Sirius, taking a step towards his friend. Completely forgetting the tight slacks he had on.
"No! You just want it for yourself!" said Remus, scurrying backwards till he met the wall. "It's my lucky shirt!"
"Mate, you are already married! What more luck do you need if you've already got a bird with you every night! I need it so that I can properly sh–"
"Oh, gods. Please stop?" groaned Teddy, covering his ears and scrunching his face. Upon opening his eyes, back to soft green, he couldn't help the reluctant chortle that came out at the sight of the adults quarrelling over a worn out shirt.
"Moony! Hand it over!"
"No, Sirius! It's mine!"
"Remus, you tosser. Be a good mate and hand the bloody thing over!"
"Padfoot. No."
After several minutes of childish bickering, and a stomach that was starting to eat itself out of hunger, Teddy snapped.
"Oi! Children! Stop it!" he said, his hair turning to flaming red. "Give me the shirt. No–Dad–dad, give it to me. Now." demanded Teddy outstretching his arm.
Gobsmacked faces stared at the Metamorphmagus, and Remus indeed gave his teenage son the infamous thing, a bit hesitantly and somewhat conflicted.
"What is all the fuss on this old shite?" said Teddy as he lifted the not-quite-shirt-but-more-like-jacket and inspected it.
"Oi, be careful with your words lad," said Sirius, "The old coot over here, that you call father, got his first shag with that old shite."
Teddy lifted his eyebrows in surprise, "Well, I did not need that piece of information. But, still, what is the issue with it?"
"No, mate. Let me finish," said the Animagus, "He got his first shag, with a sixth year, Ravenclaw, Veela, during our Fourth Year. And she pinned over him."
"It's got some sort of power, that shirt," interrupted Remus, barely controlling his gloating, "Don't laugh, Teddy. I'm being seri–honest here. There's something to it. Must've been washed with some Felix Felicis at some point," he shrugged, "I don't know, but things favour you when you wear it."
The change in attitude in the teenager was plain visible, his chest inflated, his eyes opened wide. Mirth stared back at the Marauders. And just like that, Teddy sprinted away from his father and his uncle.
Two middle aged men chased after the Metamorphmagus, hollering like mad. Pouncing over a laughing Tonks by the main door. The both made hasty apologies to the witch as they tried to compose themselves.
"Hey, Remus, love?" came a voice from the kitchen suddenly. Another Nymphadora appeared, "Are we out of crisps?"
"Wh–what the–?"
But when they looked back at the Tonks they had rammed into, they were met with a loud laugh and the front door closing. They almost missed the flash of electric blue hair.