Teds first week at Weasley Wizard Wheezes was a busy one. He worked all the hours George would give him and with the rush that came from the first week of the summer holidays the shifts weren't in short supply. Ted arrived at the shop at eight to prepare the stock for the day and opened the doors for nine. This gave Ron and George invaluable time with their children, as it only required one of them to pop in around ten to check how the shop was doing and allow him to take a break after lunch. They would stay with him until closing time at five thirty, at which point Ted would sweep, clean and prepare the shop for the next day.
It was a busy job but Ted appreciated the chaos. He hated the times of day where there were no children screaming or yelling around him, it allowed him time alone with his thoughts and recently there weren't many positive ones. Despite the job being miles away from what he wanted to do, not that he had decided what he wanted to do as he saw little point contemplating it anymore, he managed to find pleasure and satisfaction in the small tasks. He realised that, like at Hogwarts, he excelled under pressure, and thrived best when his employers congratulated him on a good job. It drove him to do his best, despite the circumstances.
Neither George nor Ron had asked him what had happened between him and Victoire. He suspected that she had filled the family in on the details after he had left her. He felt bad about that, he hadn't intended to cause drama on an evening when they were supposed to be celebrating, but as soon as he saw Victoire he knew what had to be done.
No doubt her family had all agreed it was the right action for them both and that was why no one had attempted to convince him otherwise. He appreciated that, he didn't need to explain his reasons over and over to every uncle she had. And there were a lot of them.
Ted knew that he was lucky to still be considered a welcome member of staff at the family business after he had broken their nieces heart. He had half expected to turn up to work the following morning and get wrung out by a gang of angry red heads, but they had remained professional. Or at least, as professional as two jokesters could be. Few young men could say that they had pissed off a Weasley woman and still be allowed on the premises with everything still intact.
The busy weekend had nearly wiped the stock from the shelves. Ted was helping George stack a new product in the the stand behind the window, a lengthy and tedious job. Halfway up the step ladder he paused between boxes to watch the people passing by in the street, the shops seemed to buzz with the return of the children to Diagon Alley. He had a good view of the door and inwardly cringed when his Grandmother walked passed, glanced in his direction and waved.
His groan was unnoticed as she entered the shop and approached them. George hopped down from the stool he was balancing on to offer it to the woman but she politely held up a hand to decline.
George wiped his brow and offered a winning smile. "Hell of a worker, this one," he told her, pointing behind him at Ted, who ignored the compliment and continued to remove items from the box. "He's really taken the stress off the kids coming home."
Ted didn't miss the undering message there, that come the end of the summer holidays the business was unlikely to have a valid need for him. For years George and Ron had maintained the shop just the two of them, there was little opportunity for a third business partner. Ted knew the job was temporary but he appreciated the opportunity of work all the same. He would leave when the time was right and find a new job, whatever that would be, he would never want to put George out by overstaying his welcome.
Andromeda smiled, her face tense. Over the years the lessons learnt from her Black Family upbringing had worn off and she had began to betray her emotions on her face again - Ted was one of the few who could see when she was masking her emotions. "I would expect nothing less from him," she said proudly. "Edward?" He glanced towards her, nervous at the use of his proper name. "There's something I think you'd like to see."
She extended towards him a thick parchment envelope with the Hogwarts crest stamped into the seal on the back. Ted knew what this was, but he felt no desire to open the envelope and know for sure. He wished desperately he could return to the previous weeks anxiety over his exam results, but they were meaningless now.
He stared at the parchment but didn't reach for it. "They won't matter, Gran," he said, holding his arms out to George to receive the next box.
They both looked at him in horror. Andromeda shook her head and then uncharacteristically rolled her eyes at George then took the initiative to fully ignore Teds protests, as she often did, and tore open the envelope herself.
In a loud voice meant to make the entire stop stop what they were doing and listen, she began to read: "Charms: Outstanding. Defense against the Dark Arts: Outstanding. Herbology: Outstanding. Transfiguration: Outstanding. Arithmancy: Exceeds Expectations. Study of Ancient Runes: Exceeds Expectations." She gave him a look as if to say 'well?'.
Several of the parents in the shop looked impressed and an elderly woman nudged her grandson and said "if you work as hard as he has, you might achieve as much. Well done young man!"
George let out a low whistle. "Six NEWTs Teddy, that's brilliant. Excessive, but brilliant."
Teds cheeks began to flush. The results were what he had wanted, and expected of course, but the confirmation gave him little relief. It would have made little different if they were six failed NEWTs, he knew. Exams and a good education would get you nowhere when you were a category three lycanthrope, he might as well have studied at a muggle school for all the good it would do him in the magical world.
He wished desperately he could be excited about the results and plan the next stage of his life like his friends would surely be doing that morning. How many students would be sending off job applications and making the first vital steps on their careers today? He couldn't think about it, the thought of what he had lost made him feel sick.
"Thanks for letting me know, Gran," he said quietly, his voice cracking towards the end. He returned to the task he had been given and turned his back to her so they couldn't see the hurt on his face. "I've really got to get back to work. We've got loads to finish today."
Andromeda slipped the envelope back into her bag. "I'm so proud of you, Teddy," she said quietly. "You mother and father would be too."
He pretended not to hear her. She left, but as she did so Ted couldn't help but think bitterly that it was his father who had gotten him into this mess in the first place.
Teds self-pitying mood did not much improve in the afternoon when an old dormitory mate of his walked through the door of the shop. As timing had it, Ted was covered head to toe in glitter from a prematurely exploded rainbow bomb, lovingly christened by George as a 'Unicorn Fart'. He was trying to wipe the pink sparkles out his hair and mouth and shake it from his robes when Richard approached him with a wide smile on his face. He was clutching several paper bags from Madam Malkins and a new dragon skin briefcase.
Rick had been a fellow Hufflepuff and had shared the dormitory with Ted and two others since first year. They had been on good terms, but not particularly friendly towards each other by the end of their seventh year. Ted suspected he had always been jealous of his academic success and Ricks crude questions and suggestions regarding his relationship with Victoire had not endeared him towards the other boy. But he was a familiar face and he was interested to see how Rick had got along in the few vital days since graduation. Judging by Ricks new attire it would not be the answer he was hoping for and he didn't particularly feel the need to delve further.
"Ted!" he said in mock surprise, as though he hadn't followed him around the shop only seconds before. "Mate, how are you?"
How to answer that? Ted wanted to say 'I feel as though my world has ended. Some mornings, I only get out of bed because I know I'll be letting a friend down if I don't, and that's as good as my life is going to get.' He imagined telling him, if only to get an honest reaction, but dismissed it quickly.
"Same old," he said vaguely. He heaved a box from the floor and moved it onto a nearby shelf so he could clear the glitter mess on the floor. He had hoped that his actions would communicate that he was too busy to simply stop and chat.
"I'm doing great," Rick told him, although Ted hadn't asked, a smug grin on his face. "I just got offered a job. This morning."
Ted grunted. Rick took it as a sign he'd both heard him and as a prompt to elaborate. "Magical maintenance department. Junior Assistant. I start on Monday."
He said the words 'Junior Assistant' as though he had been offered the job of assistant to Minister of Magic. Ted froze and put the box he was holding back onto the messy floor, scattering the glitter further across the wood. He didn't care. The Magical Maintenance department was essentially responsible for the upkeep of the Ministry: when a lift broke down, they fixed it. When the floo powder ran out in the fireplaces, they stocked it. Ted thought about the crumpled letter he had received a few days earlier, dumped at the bottom of the kitchen bin in disgust. 'Dear Mr. Lupin,' it had read, 'We are sorry to inform you your application for Junior Assistant has been unsuccessful at this time...' They hadn't even waited to hear his exam results before they rejected him, the register had told them everything they had needed to know.
"Congratulations," he managed to say, but the words sounded flat. "You'll excel at that, I'm sure."
Rick grinned. "What about you, Ted? Any news?"
He was asking if he'd been offered any jobs, of course. "Nothing yet," Ted replied, hoping that he sounded elusive enough that Rick wouldn't report to the other lads that he was a failure.
"Ah." Rick offered a sympathetic face. "Well….something will come through for you."
Patronising git.
Ted just wanted him to leave. He stabbed the box to open it, more aggressively than he should have. Glitter exploded in a small cloud from the tear in the cardboard. It wasn't his old room-mate he was angry with, he knew that, but it gave him someone rational and present to focus on, and the mild dislike he had harbored for him developed into full blown rage. He was worried that if he turned to look at his smug face he would punch it, repeatedly. He couldn't believe that he was actually jealous of the rubbish, low paid, low skilled job Rick had been granted. Ted continued to stock the shelves, one by one.
"Phill got offered a transport position and Mark's moving up north to work on forestry maintenance," Rick continued, despite his silence.
"That's...great news," Ted said, trying to be happy for the two lads in his house he genuinely enjoyed the company of. They had worked hard at their exams, he reminded himself, they deserved to be successful in their careers and just because he was struggling it didn't mean that they shouldn't be thriving.
"When you hear about a job we should all go out for a beer to celebrate," Rick said. "Keep us updated, yeah?"
"Yeah. Bye Rick."
Ted turned his back purposefully. In the reflection of a glass cabinet he saw Rick pick up his bags and leave. Ted kicked the box to one side, not much caring where it ended up and stormed into the stockroom, slamming the door behind him. He lit the room with his wand and in a fit of uncharacteristic rage punched a box on the shelf in front of him. It didn't make him feel better. Ted immediately tried to flatten out the soft dent in the cardboard, feeling foolish.
There was a gentle knock on the stock room door. "...Ted?" George asked him cautiously.
He didn't respond. He needed five minutes alone to sort out his thoughts and compose himself before going back onto the shop floor. But there was no way he hadn't been seen storming into the cupboard, no where to hide from his childish behaviour.
"Do you want to talk about it?" George said.
He sighed, realising he wasn't going to be left alone without a response. "No."
"Was he a friend of yours?"
"Hell no." He felt like a sulking child. I'm eighteen, he reminded himself. Adults don't act like this.
George made a light clucking sound from behind the door as though he was contemplating what to say. Ted didn't wait for his consolation words - what could he say that would make him feel better anyway? - he straightened up, running a frustrated hand through his dull, lifeless hair as he did so.
Reluctantly, he opened the door of the stock room to allow his boss to enter. "Rick," he said bitterly, fully aware that George had no idea who Rick was but grateful for the chance to rant, "he gets a job without no problems, even though he only took three NEWTs and probably barely passed them. But me, I'm…" he nearly said 'stuck here' but stopped himself in time. "He got a job I applied for. A crappy job, one I didn't even really want but that idiot just walked into it."
George frowned. Ted continued to talk in a rush of words. "And the two other lads from my house have both got jobs too! And it's not that either of them are thick, but they didn't…" Ted realised how nasty and childish he was sounding, and looked at his shoes to avoid George's gaze. He didn't mean to sound that way. He wasn't even sure that he was making any sense, his voice sounded frantic and rushed even to him.
"You worked hard," the older man said for him. "You worked your butt off in your exams and you deserve the successes your friends are having ten-fold. But instead you're working in a shop."
Ted's stomach dropped. "George, I didn't mean-"
"Teddy, it's okay." George smiled and Ted believed him. "This isn't your dream job, and that's okay. You don't have to pretend that this was your first choice."
When the shop doors had closed several hours later, George beckoned him over and pulled a bottle of Ogden's Finest Firewhisky (aged 12 years) from behind a box in the stockroom. Ron had joined them an hour earlier and he produced two glasses from beneath the counter and a mug from the kitchen. He poured each of them a generous drink.
George raised the glass above his head in a toast. "To Teddy," he announced to them both. "The first member of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes to get a full set of NEWTs."
Ron grinned. "To the most highly qualified member of staff we've ever had."
They sank the alcohol back in one movement and Ron poured them each another. "What's the plan, Ted?" he said, oblivious to his earlier confrontation and subsequent meltdown. "What's the next adventure in the life of the great Edward Remus Lupin?"
The million galleon question, Ted thought. Surely the question he would have to answer repeatedly over the next week, each time with the same depressing outcome. "It's really not a question of what I want to do, it's who's willing to take on a werewolf," he admitted. "When an employer sees that certificate of registration they conveniently have no vacancies."
"But the world is a different place now," George said. "The law has changed since your old man tried to find work twenty years ago. You can't discriminate against someone because they're on the registry."
Ted thought of the three job rejections he had received that week alone. Harry had suggested to him various positions that were advertised across the Ministry, jobs Ted should have been able to walk into with his intelligence and OWL results alone. He wondered which of his classmates would be offered the positions instead? It seemed that not even with Harry's influence could he achieve the lower level jobs that came easily to others.
"Legally they can't discriminate," Ted replied. "But they don't have to say that the registry is the reason. They find a different excuse: 'you're not right for the job' or 'you're just not a good fit for the role'. There's not an employer around whose mental enough to take me on."
George smiled in sympathy. "You'll always have a job here, Ted." He held up a finger when the boy opened his mouth to protest. "You will. You're too good for this place, too smart to be stocking shelves, but you'll never be without a job for as long as you want it." Gesturing to Ron to fill the glass a third time, he held the whisky towards him. "But you're destined for greater things, Ted. You'll see."
Ted so wanted to believe in the wisdom of the older man. Yet all he could see in his future was stocking shelves and serving customers. A better life than some, he reminded himself, from what he had heard his father had been lucky to hold down a job for longer than a month, but Ted would always have his family and the Weasley's. And George was probably right, the world had changed a little since the war.
Ted forced a smile on to his face and they toasted him a second time and sent him home to celebrate.
The 'celebration' consisted of Harry cooking a roast dinner and Ted playing on the carpet with Albus and Lily as James sat on the couch, too mature for childish games. He was grateful for the quiet meal in Godric's Hollow and had been dreading a big family gathering that would draw attention to his bad mood.
He shouldn't have been surprised that it was just him and the Potters, considering the last Weasley dinner he had been invited to had resulted in him breaking Victoires heart, he expected it would be a while until he was welcome back to any of their tables.
Only after the children were put to bed and a bottle of wine placed between them did Harry and Ginny steer the conversation towards what he had been avoiding. Ted suspected they had waited until he had a decent amount of alcohol in him first, but they needn't have bothered, he had prepared himself to justify his actions and he had always been an open book around them.
"We just want you to be happy," Harry said, glancing at his wife who nodded in encouragement. "And if you and Vicky weren't happy…"
"We were happy." Ted said quickly. "I loved her. I still love her. I think she still loves me too. But she deserves better than what I can give her." He traced his finger around the wine glass to avoid looking them in the eye. He didn't have to look to know the expressions they would be giving him.
"You're 'too old, too poor, too dangerous'?" Harry asked. When Ted stared at him in confusion, he explained "That's exactly what your father told your mother before they were married. He tried to push her away as well, he thought she'd be better off without him. She didn't care, she loved him despite all that."
Ted rolled his eyes. "My father probably had a point!" He snapped bitterly. "What the hell was he thinking, marrying my mother and having a baby? Victoire deserves better than what they had: getting married in some secret ceremony and having to hide the relationship from the Ministry, being forced to provide financially for some deadbeat who can't get a decent job."
Without realising he had been doing so, Ted found himself imagining his father was with him, directing all his anger at the man who had unintentionally put his son in the position he was in. His father had never wanted this for him, he knew that, but Ted couldn't do to Victoire what his father had done to his mother. If Remus had stayed away his mother might still be alive. If his parents had lived, what position would they be in now? Would his father still be struggling as Ted was? Would they be as happy as everyone told him they had been?
"Love overcomes difficulty." Ginny said helpfully. "If Victoire truly loves you she won't care if there's a big wedding. Did you ask her what she wanted?"
Ted shook his head. "She might be able to forgive me for that. But Victoire will care when she has to play the lottery when it comes to having a child. Which one will it be, a baby or a puppy?" He downed his glass - it helped. "No, I won't do that to her. She deserves only the best, and there's plenty of men who can give her that."
"You don't know that." Harry said. "You weren't born a werewolf, you child might not either…"
"But is it worth the risk?" He interrupted. "What if there's enough of the condition in Victoire that any child we have isn't so lucky? And I know her, she won't just want one child, she wants a big family like the one she grew up in. Who's to say if my parents had another child they wouldn't have inherited it? I was lucky." He laughed bitterly. "Well, as lucky as I can be, given the situation."
Harry watched him carefully. "We're worried about you Teddy."
"I'm worried about me too," he admitted.
Harry chewed his bottom lip. "You're not going to do anything...stupid. Are you?"
Ted just looked at him blankly. "I'm not about to throw myself in the great lake with my pockets full of stones, if that's what you're asking." Was that what they thought? Had he really appeared that bad?
Harry nodded, the relief on his face. They were silent for a minute and then Ted asked "How is she?"
Harry and Ginny looked at each other, sipping their wine to prolong the inevitable. "She did great on her OWL exams." Ginny said awkwardly. "Got Outstanding in nearly every subject."
He grinned at that, proud of her. "Of course she did, she's amazing."
"But she's upset." Ginny looked into her glass as she said it. "She really misses you Ted."
That both stung him and made him happy at the same time. He wasn't used to feeling conflicting emotions when it came to Victoire, she was such an all or nothing type of person. "One day, when she realises it's for the best and has moved on, hopefully we can go back to being friends again."
But Ted knew he'd ruined it. There was no going back to how they had been a year ago. You couldn't go from what they had, from the plans they had made, to simply being friends again. The wounds were too raw and too deep and Victoire was not just some girl he had dated to pass the time and offload hormones. She was the love of his life and he would never want anything as much as he wanted her.
They finished the bottle of wine without asking about Victoire again.
Harry cleared his throat. He had that face on him that said he was done trying to be Ted's Father but needed to prolong the moment just a little longer. "Did any of those positions I found for you lead to anything…?"
Ted shook his head. Ginny opened another bottle and poured him another glass, and he thanked her. His head was beginning to feel fuzzy and light, his muscles relaxing for the first time in a week. It wasn't a bad feeling. "Rejected, rejected, rejected," he said, and he didn't even care. "All because I'm 'not a good fit'."
His Godfather pursed his lips. It was a shame, Ted thought, Harry had been so sure and so excited to pass the opportunities he had researched on to him. No doubt he too had thought that by enquiring about the jobs personally someone might take pity on Ted and offer him something, swayed on the decision by his influence alone. When not even the great Harry Potter could get him a job what hope did Ted have?
"Keep trying," Harry told him, but he could see the worry on his face. "Something will come up."
'Something will come up'. How many times had Ted heard that? It had only been a week since he had graduated, he reminded himself. No one ever walked into their dream job straight out of Hogwarts, but he had hoped that he would at least be on the right path. Isn't that what they were told at school, that those who worked hard achieved their goals?
Ted left Godric's Hollow not feeling any more reassured than when he had arrived, despite their best efforts and offers of alcohol. He supposed at least that night he would sleep better than he had been. Everyone else seemed so confident that Ted's time would come, but when?
Who would be dumb enough to hire him?
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