Teddy's Sorting
"Lupin-Potter, Black, Edward Remus," she called.
She observed every expression, every hint of motion that her godson, estranged for so long showed. The excitement that shone through his eyes did not leave, but his expression changed to a blank mask. Teddy squared his shoulders and took calm measured steps, all with the grace of an apex predator, so unlike Dora, towards the dais. He wasn't walking slowly nor was he too fast. It was the natural gait of a person who was comfortable in his own skin and confident in himself. He nodded slightly to the Head Table, allowing a slight smile to both Daphne and Neville, Hermione observed, before nodding at her respectfully and sitting on the stool. On any other person, it might have seemed arrogant, or ostentatious – like a little Percy. But Edward (Teddy no longer seemed suitable) carried it off with nonchalant ease.
The Hat sat snug on Edward's head... and gasped. Hermione was near enough to hear, if a little indistinctly, what the Hat had to say, had it decided to speak aloud.
"Difficult, very difficult," the Hat said. "Expected that, I should have, considering who has raised you. So much alike, yet so different, you are."
"Mr. Hat? Watched the Star Wars, have you?"
"Ah, a live one!" the Hat exclaimed. "I remember your mother – quite a cheeky girl, she was. I see you have spoken to her."
"Yes." It was a succinct reply.
"And you are not worried about whom I shall tell that?"
"Paw told me that you were trusted by far greater wizards than us common folk that inhabit the earth today. He told me that they trusted you to take the correct decision, and that I should be open and truthful with you, instead of hiding what I know, think and feel."
"A none-too-subtle way of letting me know that you have recognisable shields, while also not letting me test their strengths," replied the Hat. "I am impressed."
"Thank you, Mr. Hat," Edward responded politely.
"Tell me, Edward, do you take the word of your father as the gospel of truth?"
"My father loves me, Mr. Hat. That is a statement he has made nearly every day that I remember. I take it for the gospel of truth."
"That was not what I asked..."
"I know. As for other matters, my father has taught me to take nobody's words at face value. He trained me in that early. As he is the son of James Potter, and godson and nephew to Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, you can surely understand the ways he taught me to verify everything and to take even the truth with a pinch of salt."
"What I can see is that your head is teeming with the possibilities of resuming the work of your noble ancestors."
Teddy gave a subdued mental chuckle. "That is the one expectation that my father has of me. To enjoy and learn – both for his part and mine."
The Hat frowned – as well as it could, anyway. It was supposed to be sorting the boy – not get involved in a circular conversation with him. The boy had spoken with loving respect about his father. Perhaps that was the way to know what to do.
"Are you loyal to your father?"
"Undoubtedly, yes."
"But if your father is in the wrong?"
"Loyalty and blind loyalty are two very different things. My father knows enough to not take the wrong step as far as he can. But if I believe he is wrong, he expects me to prove it to him. Loyalty is being able to go against the person you are loyal to, on occasion, if only to ensure that the person doesn't stray from what is right."
"So you would go against him?"
"It is not a question of going against him. It is about understanding all parts of the story. It is about understanding every intricacy of the matter. It doesn't do well to jump to conclusions without all the observations and theory in place. Once that is done, if my stand is diametrically opposite his, then so be it. It will only mean that I have understood things differently as compared to him. He could be wrong. I could be wrong as well."
"And if in spite of all that, you are still unable to come to a consensus about something?"
"Then we won't. It doesn't make me his son and him my father any lesser. We cannot be expected to always agree. My father and I are two different individuals. We can agree on many things and not all. That is human nature, isn't it? Were it not so, I would've been his clone."
"And if you had to lie?"
"Never!" responded Teddy, vehemently. "You know quite well that words have power. A lie, even a white lie, doesn't help matters."
"And you would follow that course, were it so, that, there would be no other recourse?"
"Then I would do what my father taught me. If the ends were worth it, and if nobody got hurt in the bargain, I would still not lie. I would imply."
"Where would you like to be?" the Hat asked after a lengthy chuckle.
"Let me see. As the son of Harry Potter, I have already had too much attention thrust at me. Ending up in Gryffindor would mean having to pander to expectations of being in the same mould as my father. Not Slytherin, because as much of a change DG might have made, there is still a stigma attached to it, even though it may subconscious. Again it will draw attention. My mum was a Hufflepuff. More seemingly simple, hard-working, slip-under-the-radar, benignly malignant – if they so choose, non-confrontational and loyal creatures you wouldn't find. A Hufflepuff would also do anything for what he believes to be right. And I could still excel in academics, so I wouldn't need Ravenclaw."
"So be it," said the Hat, "but like your father, I think you'd do well in Slytherin. I just need to test." Then it spoke aloud, "I can find all four founders within him. Once, Helga took all the rest. Today I give her the best. HUFFLEPUFF!" This was going to cause problems if he did not respond, Teddy knew. If he was going to be thrust into the spotlight then he would accept that. It was better to utilise it, to turn the game around, instead of being bewildered and shirking away from it, and thereby fermenting problems. It was necessary to take immediate damage-control actions.
Hermione had barely removed the Hat, when Teddy spoke to her and the Hufflepuff table in a calm, measured tone – as much as an eleven-year-old could muster, anyway. "I respectfully protest against what the Hat said. The noble House of Helga Hufflepuff has never been about "the rest". My mother was in Hufflepuff. Great Witches like the Head of the DMLE, Madam Amelia Bones, the renowned Healer Susan Bones, Potioneer Damocles Belby were all Hufflepuffs, and each of them has achieved a lot. What the Hat just said was the genesis of the self-perpetuating philosophy and prophecy, and a kind of bigotry in its own right. "The rest" as the Hat said, was a term to define those who held the noble traits of all the other three Houses in spades, but could temper it all with sensible behaviour. I would have thought that with the intervention, attitudes would have changed, by now."
Hermione grimaced. It had been her immediate reaction too. Then she realised what the lad had done. He had easily deflected the animosity that the Hat's statements could have caused from his own house, giving them something to be proud of, instead. Then, he had pinched a very old magical artefact and the long-held beliefs of the magical world that was assimilating the enforced changes only grudgingly, right where it hurt. And he had done that in one go. Yet, he had not denigrated the other houses at all. He had acknowledged their importance. That meant that he would not be the receptacle of any ill-will. "Cunning," she mused.
Suddenly, the claps that started right behind her, made her jump. It was X, who had somehow materialised there. The Hufflepuff table soon took over. Where had he come from? She had never realised why and how she had no bothered to think about his abrupt disappearance when Teddy had snatched at the cloak. Now that she thought about it, she realised that the two had been talking with Hagrid. Did Teddy know about X? What if X was an ex-Unspeakable who was out for Teddy, slowly worming his way into his confidence? How did X appear around her? Why was anyone else not surprised by his disappearance and appearance? Most importantly, how did he appear across the castle wards?
Teddy could only smile. The Hat's parting comments could have caused problems for him in his new House. He had made the comments to ensure that the other three Houses were not alienated, but mostly to convey that whatever the Hat said, the Puffs would not alienate him. By painting Hufflepuff as the House that accepted all others, with a twist, he could keep people guessing about his reactions. It was obvious that he wouldn't roll over for anyone. It would have, otherwise, been a common misconception, that the whole House as such was one of the 'also-rans'. It was necessary to illustrate, accentuate and prove his position as the one of power. It had been one of his tutor's earliest lessons. Every position is a position of power – provided you believed that you hold power, and knew how to use it.
He also had a letter to write to Paw, and send back the galleon he'd won on the last wager. Paw had said that as much as DG had done, the changes would all be cosmetic. Attitudes could not be changed so easily – even if the changes were enforced with magical contracts.
Flashback:
10th April, 2007:
"I think you are ready, to meet someone who may not really hold the same views as we do, but would still be useful, all the same, Teddy," Harry said. It had become a tradition in their family of two. Every birthday (both his and Harry's), Halloween and Christmas, since the age of four, when Teddy was old enough to start understanding things, Harry introduced him to various people.
The Resurrection Stone was not a means to bring back the dead. No, to the wise who could recognise it for what it was, it was a means to bring back their memories, their knowledge and their worldly wisdom, accrued through their experiences. True, Cadmus had made the same mistake that Dumbledore had – they had both believed that it would bring back their loved ones. For all his wisdom, Dumbledore had succumbed to the stone in the same way people wasted away due to the images of 'what ifs', 'what could be' and what could have been'. The Stone served to teach that there was always more to a person than the body that no longer existed. The night of the last battle, Harry had learnt the nature of Death from his parents and Sirius and Remus.
On his ninth birthday, Teddy was going to meet Arcturus Black and Pollux Black.
"Good evening, gentlemen. Edward Lupin-Potter, Heir Black, at your service," Teddy intoned respectfully, with a slight bow. It was the greeting Paw had asked him to use. He had also been asked to subtly shift his appearance during the conversation. Paw wouldn't say why, but that was normal. When it came to the Stone of Learning, as Paw called it, Teddy knew that his father preferred that he learn on his own. The most he could use the stone for was thirty minutes to an hour at a stretch, and could then call the...others...once every two days. Why Paw had set that time limit, Teddy did not know. What he did know, though, was that the one time he had tried to exceed that time with his real Mum and Dad, they had become irritable and pained. Paw did not answer why, that day, for it had been very painful for Teddy. He had, however, promised to explain everything on his eleventh birthday, the one before he went off to Hogwarts, where he couldn't take the stone.
"Heir Black?" asked Pollux in his harsh voice. "I thought my grandson did not breed!"
Teddy had to fight the scowl that was threatening to break upon his face. He had met Uncle Padfoot, and liked him a lot. But he controlled himself. Both Paw and Uncle Padfoot had told him what the Black Family once was, and how much the old dog had been hated and had hated his family.
"I am not your grandson's son or grandson, Elder Black. I am descended from your granddaughters – my great-grandmother was Cassiopeia, not Walburga."
"And how would you claim that? The only worthy son born off my granddaughters is in my realm. And I had only two granddaughters. A third was born – the eldest – but she married a mudblood."
Harry had initiated Teddy into Occlumency on his fourth birthday, having spent the intervening years perfecting the art himself. Five years ago, the art did not have a name for Teddy. That day it did. Teddy remembered what Paw had told him. Every emotion and expression that graced his face, every syllable that he uttered was knowledge. It gave others knowledge about him. And knowledge was power. And any power that you gave another could be used against you. That was one of the earliest adages that Paw had driven into him. So, while one could never be totally blank and unspeaking, as that would destroy one's humanity, one could always control what power one gave another over oneself. Of course, the way Harry had taught Teddy this lesson was not the way Snape and the Dursleys had taught him. No. He had used his Marauder instinct for that, teasing and pranking his son as much as he could – but in a way that Teddy could understand the important life-lesson he was being taught, and also not in a way that would demoralise him.
The other thing that Paw had told Teddy was that he was ready to meet people who did not have the same views as he did. Paw had told him that such people could still be useful. The trick was to understand how. Paw was gearing him up for the real world, where people who did not believe in what he did, who held opposite views, were very likely to show hatred instead of trying to understand one another. Paw had told him about the war, and told him that this very inability of people to understand and accept the differences was what led to wars. He would find people like Pollux in real life. So this was practice. Teddy was supposed to practice how to react to such abusive people. The worst that Pollux could do was abuse him verbally. What better way to practice and toughen one's skin than sparring against real people? That they were dead only meant that even if their reactions were true, it wouldn't matter.
"Funnily enough, she was the only true Black." Teddy's tone was bland, impersonal.
"What do you mean, boy?" snarled Pollux.
"Andromeda Tonks nee Black was, along with Sirius and Regulus Black the only true Black that was born in that generation. Sirius Black did not bow to a man he knew nothing about. He did not follow what he did not believe in. Maybe, you hated him, but the family he chose for himself, loved him and still does. Regulus Black believed that he his parents were right. He knew them and thought that he should believe in what they believed. But when it was time to find his own way for himself, after making the worst mistake he could, he chose to find everything about the one he had once mindlessly followed, and realised that he was wrong. He had bowed to someone not worthy of his loyalty, and then chose in his own way to help the family he now recognised, his brother Sirius, to bring down the one who tried to enslave them both. He chose the path of the Black. He chose to become pure. Not pure of blood. The Black motto Toujours Pur stood for the heart. He chose to follow Toujours Pur le Coeur. Andromeda Black chose to remain pure to her heart. She chose to make a family that would make the Black motto proud. Her family was more a Black than what remained of it then. She was rewarded for it with the gifts of the Black family magic in her progeny. Can you say that for yourself? Can you say that for those granddaughters who bowed to a half-blood bastard and helped decimate the rest of the family?" He was sure that Paw would have been proud of the fact that he was not afraid to speak. Paw had had him talk to informal groups of people from very early on, but without the force that he had seen some people exert on their kids. He was instead, always drawn into discussions and was expected to speak his mind. These discussions, he remembered with a snort, had started from the subject of comparison between breakfast cereals. He was also entirely sure that he was going to have to brush twice for the b-word.
"Is it so?" Pollux sneered.
"Indeed," Teddy demurred.
"And what proof do you have for the purity of that blood-traitor?"
"Provide me proof for your purity and allegiance to the Black family before pointing fingers."
"I am a pureblood, boy."
Teddy transformed into an exact copy of Pollux. "And I am a purer Black than you'd ever be. Be gone, Pollux. The Black Family recognises you no longer as an honoured Elder."
Teddy knew that he had failed to adequately constrain his anger. He looked to Arcturus, who was smiling. Teddy met his eyes impassively.
"Dorea's grandson has done well by you. You are still young. You matched Pollux for nearly fifteen minutes. For fifteen minutes, you at the age of eight, after recognising the test for what it was, stood toe to toe against a bigot of the highest order, and kept your head. There are some things though, that only one who is born and bred, and willingly, a Black that can teach you how to gain power from the mistakes of another without losing control. Tell your father that I shall teach you how to be a true Black."
Teddy was astounded. "You don't believe in blood purity?"
"I would be lying if I said that. I did truly believe once, and still do, to an extent. But a Black does not cling to ideals that have no place in the world as it stands. A Black moves with the times, and does what is best for the House, for the family. Dorea's grandson, being more a Potter, likes to blow up things and an answer of 'that is how it is done' does not satisfy him. But he recognises the need to use what is best from among those traditions that are left behind. And he also recognises the need to refer to better people than he when involved with something he cannot do. Teaching you control is one of those things. I shall come to you and teach you that."
Flashback Ends.
That confrontation against his great-great-grandfather had kick-started lessons in what Paw would call playing magical poker with no rules.
These lessons with Elder Arcturus helped him in many ways. Paw had made it abundantly clear that he was only going to hold the Lord-Emeritus position of the House of Black after Ted's eleventh birthday. While it was not de rigueur to do so, it was not against the laws either. (It was a not-widely practised, but still, not unknown Ritual of Abdication.) That meant that as a Black, Harry would submit to Teddy. That meant that sooner rather than later (if things went as Teddy wished, later would mean never), he would have to start taking interest in politics. Elder Arcturus told Teddy stories – the sort that no parent would really allow as moral stories to their kids. These were the stories of his time in the Slytherin Dorms. They had all boiled down to a few facts of life. Teddy had presented them as a summary a year later, eliciting the proudest smile from Arcturus.
Nobody liked being questioned. Nobody liked being criticised. Nobody liked being shown in a bad light. Nobody liked losing – or rather, nobody liked to feel that they had lost. That made people extremely defensive. That sort of defensive behaviour made people not listen to you. It led people to become belligerent. It did not endear you to people, whatever your intentions would be. It created enemies. It alienated people. Alienated people and enemies had a propensity to come together and plot one's downfall. Each negative word made you more enemies. And each enemy was like the root of a creeper – a new one sprung up from time to time, even if they were cut down. They would have to be painstakingly uprooted. It was a grim thing to tell a kid. But that was what the Blacks stood for. In the small community, and in the erstwhile top echelons, it was a man eats man world. The Black name had learnt to rise in spite of it all.
If at all there came a time when one had to give an opinion, one way or the other, the words had to be such that no one – absolutely no one should ever feel criticised. Accentuating your position at the top – in spite of others being in good position themselves – graciously, without putting others down and without coming across as a boast was immensely satisfying. That was exactly what had done when he had protested against what the Hat had said.
It was actually the first part of Teddy's education in the murky world of the confluence of business and politics. The later was provided by another tutor – one that Teddy hated, as most others did. It was only the stoic influence of Paw that had helped him through it.
Between those two teachers, Teddy learnt how to make allies and minions, how not to make enemies.
It was one of the many lessons that Teddy had learnt from many people called for a talk from the great beyond, lessons that were aimed to prepare and equip him to face life as it was and would be.
Lord Potter, the Lord-Emeritus Black sat in his room, caressing the unopened letter his son had sent him. He missed the kid. Harry had become a grim man, forged in the furnaces of war. It had been a terrible war, as all wars are. It had changed him. It had made him unfeeling – or would have, had it not been for Teddy.
Teddy had been the lone wild-flower growing among the ashes of a volcanic eruption for Harry. Being a single parent had not been easy. But after what Ginny had done, there was never any yearning for companionship, or to build a family. He had Teddy. And Teddy had him. That was all that mattered. It was as much family as mattered to him.
Sometime in primary school, Harry had learnt that "Child is the Father of Man." There was never anything truer than that. Teddy had made him what he was today. Lots of people had come into his life – for better or for worse. Most had been taken from him. Some had been cast away. Some sought to control him, to mould him. Everyone had expectations from him. He had had to do things that no innocent eleven year-old, nor an eighteen year-old should have had to do. He had seen and experienced more death than any normal person should. It had hardened him. It had made him a grim person, a grim old teen. But it had not made him a man. For throughout his life, he had coasted along from the rules, choices and decisions of one person to another. His life, before the war had never really been his own.
All the life that Harry remembered before the War had made him bitter. In his most bitter moments, Harry had sometimes hated his parents for taking away his choice. Wouldn't he have chosen to be with them, happy in eternity? He hated Dumbledore for taking him away from Sirius. He hated Sirius for not choosing him instead of revenge against Wormtail. He hated Remus for not coming for him, for listening to Dumbledore instead. He hated Trelawney for spitting out that blasted prophecy. He hated Snape for just existing. He hated Wormtail and Voldemort for that very reason even more. He hated the Order for isolating him, for trying to make him impervious to losses. He hated the Ministry for its part in the war – that of a slandering machine and then trying to hitch a ride on his duty. He hated Augusta Longbottom and Amelia Bones for not even trying to think of taking him in, as the Will of his parents had clearly stated. He hated the magical society of Britain for not retaliating. He hated it for folding at the first sign of danger. He hated Ron for winning Hermione's affection, when he had just been a git to her all along. He hated Ginny and Ron for the way they had cruelly stomped on him by betraying Teddy. Most of all, he hated himself for surviving the war, when he had nothing to live for.
Teddy had become that something to live for. He had become the anchor to his sanity. It had started from simple things – feeding him, changing his nappies, putting him off to sleep when Andromeda had still been alive. Then Harry had become Teddy's father. Harry had been the witness for Teddy's first tooth, his first attempt at crawling, at walking; Harry had heard Teddy's first word. The small baby had slowly and steadily chipped away the rock that he had become, to rejuvenate the human underneath. It had been enough to make Harry panic. This was another person that Harry had grown to love. What would he do if Teddy was taken away too? Harry had found the answer to that very early, when he had eliminated the Lestranges and the Malfoys for even thinking of that. It had nearly thrown him into depression, having to do those despicable things. But the innocent little baby, even younger than he had been when he had lost his parents had brought him back. It had made Harry responsible. He had realised that he had the need to make the world as safe as he could for Teddy, and for all other 'Teddy's in the world. It became his mission in life. Indeed. Teddy had made him a man.
