Well, this was difficult. I seem to be uninspired, lately. Blame it on my upcoming exams (they are a cruel and unnecessary). Anyway, I got it out finally, and I'm quite pleased with the way it ended up. It isn't really how I usually write him, but I like it.

So, since this is the end, I just need to thank all my reviewers. Thank you.

Chapter 7 – Teddy

I wonder how many of these are orphans. There must be some, right? My kind of age group, some of them must have lost parents?

There aren't that many of us. I guess most people didn't want to have kids in the middle of a war. Next year, and the few years after it, will be huge, though, due to the post-war baby boom. The end of the war, the brush with death, seemed to convince everyone there was no use waiting to procreate.

But as for my year, we're a small group. I figure we're either the ones who were already on the way by Dumbledore's death and Voldemort's big power-gain, or from parents who didn't want to risk waiting. Or we're accidents.

That's me. A surprise, Grandma always says, but I'm not stupid. "Surprise" is a euphemism for "accident". Though I figure my parents must have been pretty surprised.

This'll have to be a conversation I have with my classmates. Were you an accident?

Oh yes, Teddy, I can see us making lots of friends that way.

I scanned the people at the tables, wishing I actually knew someone here. You'd think, with all the Weasleys, they'd have had someone already here, wouldn't you?

At least Victoire'll be here next year. Though she might still not be talking to me then. I promised her that we'd still be friends and everything, that I wouldn't forget her, but she's still mad. It's not my fault she was born a year after me, is it? And as for her suggestion that I just wait, and come here with her, and just be a year older than my classmates, well, that was just stupid.

Girls.

I'll have to take her something home for Christmas, something from the castle. What, I don't know. Maybe I can sneak a plate or candle-stick or something. Not, of course, that I'm in the habit of stealing, but it's not like Hogwarts has a gift-shop, is it? And I can't have her not talking to me. All the other kids are younger than us, and even Monique is still a little kid.

No, I'll just have to take something home. Surely they won't mind? Harry said the plates and stuff are solid gold.

Maybe I won't steal a whole plate, actually. I don't think any of the adults at home would be very pleased. I'll take a fork or a spoon, and she can hide it. She could even return it when she comes here, and then it's like I'm borrowing it, not stealing it.

I love loopholes.

And if she doesn't forgive me? Well, that just makes her stupid, doesn't it, and so there's no point in us even being mates.

My parents died here. Well, so everyone says. I guess there's a little possibility that they're lying. That my parents ran away to join the circus or something. But I doubt it. They died fighting. Outside. To be honest, I was kinda worried that...I don't know, that I'd see blood or something on the grass. Theirs. But that's stupid, I know.

Still. And then their bodies was dragged in here, and laid out, and then moved. For all I know, I could be stood on the very spot my parents' dead bodies were lain.

Sometimes, I sort of wish they'd left the details out of this story.

Heavy on the Slytherins this year. Wonder if that's where I'll end up. Wonder if Grandma'll cry if I do. I don't know much about her family, but I know enough. And even if she and Aunt Cissy made up and everything, I think me going into Slytherin would upset her. Hmm. She was Slytherin herself. Mum was Hufflepuff, dad Gryffindor, and my granddad, also deceased, was Ravenclaw. That's every house covered, so I guess I could end up anywhere.

Honestly, none of the houses sound all that great. I mean, Slytherins are meant to be evil. Gryffindors are brave. Ravenclaws are smart and Hufflepuffs are loyal. Evil is a bad thing, apparently. Bravery often equals stupidity, I've heard. Smart means I'd have to study lots. And loyalty...well, to who?

If the founders had really though it through, they'd have picked some better qualities. Or they'd just not have bothered with houses, because when you think about it, it seems a little stupid to create this awesome school, then make half the students had each other because of the house they're put in.

But that's the problem with the world. So many of the people in it are stupid.

I kinda need to pee. Just a little bit, and hopefully it'll fade, because as far as I know you're supposed to stay in the hall and eat, not disappear and get lost looking for the bathroom. Am starving, too. Stupid apparation laws. If we could just apparate here, then we could be sorted, have eaten, and be all settled in by now. But no. We take a train for most of the day, end up here in the cold cover of darkness, having to wait around for our sorting while tired, hungry, and faintly needing to pee.

Traditions. There's a lot less point in them than you think.

And now we're on the Ls. When did that happen? Well, it's about time.

"Lupin, Teddy."

And that would be me. I walked forward, heard a few whispers as people caught sight of my hair. Since my Grandma wanted me to have a "normal" shade, for my first day at least, we compromised by going dark brown with blue streaks. It looks, if I do say so myself, awesome.

And then there were a few more whispers as people realised I am, in fact, Harry Potter's godson.

Actually, you know, that's not true. I mean, that's what my parents wanted. And that's what he introduces me as – "my godson, Teddy." But in actual fact, it was never really made official. There was no ceremony of any kind, and so if you want to be technical, he isn't my godfather. Which, obviously, means I'm not his godson.

Anyway. Sit on stool, hat on head.

Ah. Well isn't this interesting?

"I am?"

Yes. You don't like this, do you, Teddy? This ceremony – the traditions Hogwarts still holds. You think they're outdated, yes?

"Yes." I admitted. "It all seems so pointless."

I see. Traditions, Teddy, are there for a reason. And I think you know. Tell me, if things here are so pointless, why were you so eager to come here? Why are you, even now, eager to explore the castle?

"I want to find a bathroom. I need to pee."

Teddy, I can see your thoughts. Please remember that. Now, I think your determination to find fault with everything – everyone, even is for protection. A defence mechanism, one might say.

"Defence from what?" I replied, sceptical.

You, Teddy Lupin, are afraid of disappointment.

"Oh, come on, that's the stupidest fear I've ever heard of!"

Your parents left you. They let you down, didn't they, running away and dying like that, instead of staying around to bring you up?

"Of course they let me down. Parents are supposed to be around, to love you and look after you and drive you crazy and make you hate them. They're not supposed to end up as dead war heroes."

And the time you were six, when you had an argument with your grandmother, and told Harry Potter that you wanted to live with him, he let you down, didn't he Teddy, by refusing? By taking you back to your grandmother's?

I remained silent. I don't like this. The hat's supposed to sort me, not analyse me.

That's why, since then, you make a point of telling everyone he isn't your godfather really, isn't it? Because that way, he seems less important. And if he's less important, you won't believe he can fix anything – and so you won't be let down again.

"I...I'm not stupid. No one can fix anything. And – and that's not why – maybe I just want people to have all the facts -"

And you convince yourself that your friend Victoire is just a silly little girl, that her anger and hurt aren't really valid, or important, because that way, if she never forgives you, it's not really as though you lost your best friend in the world, is it?

"That's not – I'm not -"

And you tell yourself that the sorting is a stupid, outdated tradition, because that way you won't be disappointed by the house I place you in. You see my point, now, Teddy? How you protect yourself against disappointment? You do it well, I must say, but is it healthy to have such a cynical mind?

"It's perfectly healthy. Pessimists are never disappointed." I told him. Which is, of course, perfectly true.

You will be disappointed again, Teddy. You cannot get through life without it. But do you have the strength to overcome it? If your Victoire doesn't forgive you, will you be able to accept what she means to you, and cope with the disappointment? Because you may be able to easily lie to yourself, but you'll find you don't often believe as well as you think.

"I...I..."

I think you have the strength. The guts.

"I...Is she going to forgive me? Victoire?"

I see into minds, Teddy, not the future. But I think she will. She means a great deal to you – bonds like that are rarely one-way. Are you ready to be sorted now?

"Yes."

I'll try not to disappoint, then. GRYFFINDOR!

Bravery. Which equals stupidity. Maybe I ought to be insulted. I passed the hat back, walked over to the table, wondering if the hat was right. About everything. About me being scared of disappointment, about me having the strength to cope with it.

Probably not. I hope we're eating soon, I'm starving. And I still need to pee. You'd think we'd get a bathroom break.