I, Teddy Lupin, am a dead man.
Why, you ask?
Well, It's a little like this.
I have a bit of a system in the mornings. First, I get up when I please, and then spend hours laying around in bed watching muggle soaps (Shh! Don't tell James!), with only my boxers on, until three, when I have to go cover my shift at George's shop. Afterwards, I go over to the Potter's for dinner, and then I go and visit the Burrow until Arthur and Molly go to bed. Then, if I'm feeling up to it, I might go down to the Leaky Cauldron for a drink or two, before stumbling into the house in the wee hours of the morning, where I start all over again. It's a good system, which really shouldn't be interrupted. Who knows what kind of damage the dramatic change could bring me. Unfortunately, others, do not understand the dire need that is my sleep. Others, such as my grandmum, Andromeda. Really, I don't know what gets into that senile old bat's head in the early morns. Just the other day the old bat woke me up at nine o' clock to run down to the apothecary to get her a fresh batch of newt eyes. Nine o' clock! There is something unnatural about waking up before noon. Really! I mean, the traffic's not even mildly mental, the sun's just coming up, and the people are actually kind of pleasant! It's a whole new London, I'm telling you. This morning was quite like that one, much to my obvious dismay.
You see, I was in this lovely dream where I was flying on a gray hippogriff with this lovely muggle actress, Emma Watson, and we were just about to reach Hogsmeade, when my pain-in-the-arse Grandmum decides to holler at me from downstairs. Don't get me wrong, I love my grandmother to the death, but seriously, what in the name of Merlin possess her to holler at me before I've had my thirteen hours of sleep? I hadn't even had my waffles yet! I swear, she has another thing coming if she thinks she can wake me up to run down and get her another cartoon of unicorn milk…
"Teddy! Teddy, love? TEDDY REMUS LUPIN, YOU GET YOUR ARSE DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW, YOUNG MAN!" Isn't she lovely?
"What, grandmum?" I wailed back. I really need my own place.
"DO YOU KNOW WHAT DAY IT IS?" I groaned and turned over to face my calendar. Yeah, it was September first… September first? What was so significant about- HOLY SHIT! (Please excuse my profanity. In my defense, I thought it in my head, so if you have a problem with it, go jack someone else's thoughts).
"I'll be right down!" I glanced down at the silver watch Harry, my godfather, had given me for my birthday last year (I really wanted a new broom, but hey, tradition. What can you do?).
"10: 45!" The watch squealed gleefully. "Teddy's late! Teddy's late! Teddy's-!" I could just curse that damn James for jinxing it to talk- Only twelve and already making my life a little more miserable. He's such a Weasley.
"SHUT UP!" I roared. Yeah, waking me up early gets me grumpy. Grumpy enough to yell at inanimate objects? Apparently so.
I flipped my covers off my body (was my room always this cold?), and stumbled out of bed, nearly tripping over my feet, the light coming through the shutter temporarily blinding my sleep-disabled brain. I grabbed the corner of my dresser to stabilize myself, and pulled on a rumpled grey t-shirt I found laying by my feet.
Hey, It was clean, I assure you! Well, it smelled okay, anyway…
Grabbing my messenger bag from the hook by the door, I rushed down the hard wooden stairs, tripping over my feet a few times in the process. You see why you don't wake me up in the morning? It's a health hazard- to me, and who ever happens to be in the vicinity. I paused halfway down, suddenly realizing why my legs felt so cold. Why do I insist on sleeping on boxers? I swiveled back around, and hurtled myself back into my bedroom. The floor was littered with rubbish and random t-shirts, yet there were no pants in sight. Why, oh why, cruel world!
I grabbed my ash wood wand out of my bag. "Accio pants!" I said, and a pair of black jeans shot out from underneath my broom polishing kit. They were slightly wrinkled, and I think there was a stain from who knows what, on the left pocket, but they would do. I wrestled them on as I hopped towards the stairs- Whoops! I slipped on a stray sock, catapulting me through the doorway and down the stairs. In the most violent, and painful way possible. For me, and the kitchen wall I slammed into after I finished my descent. The poor thing will always have my face imprinted into it.
I wobbled around towards the front door, before coming face to face with Grandmum. "What have I told you, child, about keeping your dates? Victoire's going to be awfully devastated if you don't make it in time to see her off! You see where sleeping in has got you?" I inched away from her.
"Yes, Grandmum, but you're kind of-"
"You can be so unorganized, Teddy, you obviously take after your mother!"
"Blocking the-"
"She would always be knocking things over, always late, and she never,"
"Doorway-"
"ever cleaned up after herself. Now-"
"Grandmum! Please, I have got to go so I don't miss it!" I cried desperately. Trust me, I'm usually laid-back, I really am. I blame this whole waking up early thing. I tell you, it's not good for my health. Her stern gaze softens and she moves out of the way. "Bye,Grandmum,I'llowlyoulater!" I called back, right before the door slammed closed behind me, half jogging over to the end of the block. I'm not allowed to apparate in the house, because the loud pop! Gives Grandmum a migraine. I hate my life.
For those of you who don't know, the Victoire I keep referring to is Victoire Weasley, the oldest of the Weasley grandchildren (I don't count seeing as neither of my parents were technically related to them), and eldest daughter of Bill and Fleur Weasley. Who will soon become my parents. In law. But more on that depressing thought later (Don't get me wrong, Bill's cool, but Fleur's a bit too… much, for my liking). Back to me getting killed.
You see, I'm two years older than said girlfriend, as she was starting her sixth year at Hogwarts. That day. So I was supposed to go to King's Cross to see her off, but unfortunately for me, I forgot. So, there I was, standing in the midst of about a thousand swarming muggle tourists, trying to find out where the hell I was. One little girl dropped her ice cream cone on my Converse and nearly starts bawling, but her mum tugged her along regardless, looking haggard. I don't even like sodding strawberry ice cream.
Twisting my head, I caught a glimpse of the barrier in between Platforms 9, and 10, and hurried along, pushing my way through the lot of them. "10:52! The girlfriend's going to kill yoooouu!" My watch giggled ecstatically. Inanimate objects shouldn't be allowed to find so much pleasure in other's possible doom. It's not right, I'm telling you.
The Potters stand off to the side, minus James, who I assume already left to board the train. I spot Albus looking apprehensive, and almost stop to reassure him of the joys of Hogwarts. 'Save life now, comfort later.' I thought determinedly, stalking off through the fog, praying to Merlin, to catch a glimpse of Victoire's silvery blonde head.
I swear, Voldemort has nothing on Victoire. There she stood, arms folded across her chest, her beautiful face was contorted into raging fury. Not an attractive look for a part-Veela, I'm telling you.
"Hey, love." I said softly, putting my hand on her shoulder, bracing myself. Wrong move, Tedster.
You know that scary, slow turn that villains do in those muggle thrillers? Victoire perfected hers around the time the rest of the normal happy children were learning how to make macaroni necklaces. Well, she's a Weasley, what would you expect?
"You come here, TWENTY SODDING MINUTES LATE, and all you can say is Hey, love! NOW, IF YOU TRULY LOVED ME, YOU WOULD BE HERE ON TIME, IF NOT EARLY, TO SEE YOUR GIRLFRIEND OFF! What kind of boyfriend does this CRAP?" She roared, oblivious to the gawking, absolutely horrified, hordes of families clutching to their children (Who could blame them? It's not like she was being all too discreet. Not to mention, it must be quite entertaining to watch the legendary Harry Potter's niece tell off his totally whipped (not that I am, or anything. I completely have a mind of my own… ) godson. It's press material, really. I'm half expecting the someone to call over the Daily Prophet to snap some pictures for the Sunday Special. I wonder if this purple color makes me look a bit peaky...? I could nearly hear their whispers: No, little Mary, stay away from the scary demon lady…
"I'D HAVE HALF A MIND TO BREAK IT OFF, IF I DIDN'T BLOODY LOVE YOU SO MUCH!" So that's what she calls it? "YOU ARE SUCH AN ARSE, TEDDY LUPIN." Don't normal people get tired by now? She must inherit that from her Nana Molly. Merlin, I still remember when I ate the cake that I 'forgot' was supposed to be saved for dinner. After that, no one really wanted to get on her bad side. And I never ate cake again. "Ugh! YOU DON'T RESPECT ME!" Unless it's blue raspberry flavored. "I SWEAR," I love blue raspberry. "IF I WERE YOU-" I wonder if they make blue raspberry cake. I'll have to ask Nana Molly; aside from that incident, the lady loves me. I think it's the whole no-parents thing; like since I don't have a mum, she needs to make up for it by stuffing me senseless with her home cooked food (which is quite a feat considering my monstrous appetite), and knitting me sweaters in bright vivid colors. I think I have enough now to match Uncle Harry's collection. "I WOULDN'T EVEN-" I think the latest one was orange. I like orange. "YOUR FACE." Victoire ends her spiel. My face? I've got to stop zoning out in the middle of sentences.
Vic just stand there for a moment, looking as livid as ever, taking these huge gasping breaths. But who can blame her after such a yell? After a moment, it seems like her furious rage subsides a bit, and all that's left is a rather worn out, pouty looking Victoire. She crosses her arms again, and looks away into the mist determinedly, apparently intent on giving me the cold shoulder until I apologized in the most believable fashion or bought her a ridiculously expensive gift. Preferably non-fat (what the hell is the point of eating non-fat sweets?) candies, and/or a giant teddy bear. Women.
I decide on the first option, considering I can hardly afford first month's rent in a vaguely non-ghetto neighborhood with a median crime rate in a relatively small flat.
"Look, Victoire," I sigh. "I'm so sorry, you know I wouldn't miss seeing you off for the world, right?" What I wouldn't do to be sleeping right now… "It's just I've been putting this off so much because I can hardly bear to be without you, that I totally forgot it was today." Not a total lie. I did forget that it was today. "I can understand that you're completely furious at me, but please-" I lift her chin up so she's facing me. "forgive me soon?" Hah. How good am I?
She searches my face for a moment before taking my hands in hers, wrapping them around her waist, as she buries her head into my chest. Some of her blonde hair gets into my mouth, and I try to spit it out in the most dignified manner possible, seeing as my hands are occupied. Euuw. "I forgive you." She murmurs against my t-shirt. "But-" Damn. So close. "You have to make it up to me." She looks up long enough to glare at me. Oh, Victoire. How you scare the living crap out of me.
I force a grin. "Of course, Vic." She smiles back up at me, before pressing her lips against mine. I kiss back, of course, but after all these years, it still doesn't feel 100% right. I mean, I feel something for her, and I tell her I love her on a daily basis (You think I would be alive I didn't?), but when I kiss her, or even think of her in anyway other than strictly platonic, something we haven't been since we were like eight, and she decided that we were to be together 'forever, and ever', I just feel sick to my stomach. My watch squeaks, vying for my attention. Victoire groans against my lips.
"Ignore it!" She sighs, capturing my face in her hands, smoothed with lotion from the Wonder Witch line. But another distraction comes before the watch can even beep again. "Bloody hell!" Oh looky. It's the boy who charmed my watch to talk in the first place. Annoying git. I face my kind-of cousin. I have to admit, it's actually kind of nice to be out of Victoire's embrace. Not that she was a bad kisser or anything like that, in fact she was quite good. Although, seeing as Victoire has stolen any chance I had of kissing any living creature that wasn't her or my Grandmums (I had gotten close to Jay Finnegan, but unfortunately Victoire found us before anything happened. Jay's hair never grew back quite the same), I couldn't be a very accurate judge. It was just that Victoire always just seemed too needy, like she didn't really care who she was snogging, just as long as she was snogging someone. And she was always kissing me in public, around her friends, and well, anywhere there was people, really. When, in private, she just didn't seem too interested. Not to mention, how when she did, they all felt so rehearsed: the kisses, the hugs, the 'loving' smiles. Like my relationship with her, whatever it was, was just a big ol' play to amuse the others. But I always fought those feelings away, telling myself that I do in fact love her. That my feelings were normal. Of course I do. Who wouldn't?
James gapes at us. "What?" Victoire snaps. Ohhh, Victoire angry (No, I didn't forget the verb. You're supposed to read that like the hulk :l). James gulps, and frowns indignantly.
"You were snogging my cousin?" He says to me, in an incredulous voice that would sound menacing if I haven't known him since he was in diapers, glaring at me. That's right, he's one of the only people who haven't seen Victoire kiss me. Bloody Potter boys, always so protective.
"James," I sigh.
"Go away!" Victoire snaps angrily. "Don't you have a train to catch?" I don't point out that she does, too. I've already risked my neck once today. He opens his mouth to protest, but snaps it shut instead, storming away. If I didn't know better I'd think he was afraid of her. Oh wait, wasn't everyone? Not that Victoire goes around with a chain saw, chopping off people's heads. Most of the time. It's just she inherited the Veela skill to become seriously frightening when she's in one of her moods. I shudder to think about it. After he's gone, she immediately turns back into her gushy snogging mood. It's creepy how she does that. I'm starting to think she's bipolar…
I back away quickly. She stares at me, her shock quickly turning into hurt, which eventually dissolves into scary-Vic mode. "You have to catch the train." I say quickly, before it gets out of hand and someone gets hurt (namely, me), noticing that the watch was trying to warn me that I had two minutes before it took off. She scowls, and takes my hand, leading me over to the nearest entrance. "My stuff is already on the train." She adds, as I notice the lack of her usual ridiculous amount of luggage. No thanks to you, she adds spitefully with her eyes. I thought we were over that! She flips her hair imperiously, and heads off to the stairs without another word.
Blimey, I think she's still mad at me! Women.
Eh, hullo all ^_^~
This is my first fanfiction, so please review, but be kind with the criticism! Or, you know, be completely cruel and tell me you hate it. Either one! I don't mind. I love it all ;] PS: Please tell me what you think about Teddy. I know he comes off as a bit, er, impertinent and all, but he's just sleepy! Haha!