A/N: Thanks to my lovely reviewers, Kerichi, ladyofthelight101 and Astrum Ululatum, and everyone who reads. Thanks also to my lovely betareader, rayslady. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter Ten - Flesh and Blood

It is not flesh and blood, but heart which makes us fathers and sons.
Friedrich von Schiller

While his body took a long overdue rest, the combined power of sleep and a bright full moon gently carried Ted to somewhere that was safe and warm. It was a large living room, with light flowered wallpaper and a beige coloured carpet. It seemed old somehow. He felt unsure of the place, and yet didn't know why he felt that way.

His eye, or his mind, in the dream, picked up on a few more details. There was an unlit fireplace in white stone to his left and sunlight as bright as midday was coming into the room from behind him. He noticed an antique grandfather clock to his right. Even in the dream he knew every contour It was very familiar to him, because it had been in Gran's living room for nearly thirty years...

...Gran's living room, or as he'd always known it before, the living room. That's where he was. But it was different to the one he knew. None of the various items of furniture were in their usual places, a lot of things he remembered were not there at all, and the colour of the place and the atmosphere was different, it was brighter. This was what the home had been like when he had been born, nearly three decades earlier, he thought. Gran, trying as best she could to move on, had changed the entire house after Mum, Dad and Granddad died, and of course he had never remembered the difference.

So how had he come to this old room, or how had this old room come to him?

A voice suddenly said, "Teddy."

He turned round. A man was on the cream-coloured sofa in front of him. He was about as tall and thin as Ted was, and as pale, yet he didn't look tired or at all unhealthy. If he was who Ted thought he was, perhaps he should have done.

Words couldn't come to him, even in this dream. He'd dreamt of this person many times before, but the image had never been quite like this. He had always appeared as he did in Ted's photographs of him; almost permanently tired, hair thinning with stress, yet, especially in the earliest and latest photos, he had a certain bright and energetic look in his eyes. That look was there now, highlighted by the bright sun. In the usual dreams, he very rarely spoke, and if he did it was never to him. He was also usually against the background of flowery wallpaper on a cream-coloured sofa, too...

"You can't be..."

"Don't panic, Teddy. I'm here for nothing but good."

It was him. Dad. His face was different, but his voice was the same. Ted had known what his voice sounded like from the Potterwatch recordings he'd listened to from his earliest childhood; words like 'Tell him we are all with him in spirit' were ingrained in his memory as closely as nursery rhymes or the days of the week - he had once pretended the 'him' in the sentence was himself. It usually took quite an effort of imagination to picture him saying anything else.

Ted was slightly unnerved by how real this was, and it made him suspicious.

"Why are you calling me Teddy? It's Ted now."

"Sorry Teddy...Ted, force of habit. It was what we called you when you were born."

"I don't know where you've come from, er..." He couldn't bring himself to address him by name. "My brain is not in a good place at the moment, in fact, neither is any part of me, and-and the only reason you're here is because I thought of you when I was falling asleep."

He didn't understand why he was so hesitant in his dream. Usually the emotions came thick and fast, like a short story.

"Ted." He was looking at him with the kindest and most natural sympathy. Gran had always said they had the same eyes, and suddenly Ted felt an unwanted . "You can say what you like about where I've come from, but I'm here for a much more important reason than that."

Ted suddenly felt like he ought to be a child again. He'd spent an inordinate amount of time in childhood wishing for an encounter just like this, to the point where, early in the morning when Gran didn't know he was awake he would talk to his dad as if he were on the end of the bed. Pure craziness. He was too old for that nonsense now. His dad was dead and was never going to help him however much he needed him.

Harry had always told him that the spirits of the dead were out there somewhere. He'd seen them; he said they looked healthier and younger than they did in life, the way they were in their souls. For this reason Harry had always told him that his parents were definitely there somewhere, keeping an eye on him and loving him until the day he saw them again. Right now he really needed them - not just anyone, but them, Remus and Nymphadora Lupin - and maybe, just maybe, the barrier had been broken. But Ted couldn't have felt more pessimistic if he'd tried, and miracles seemed more impossible than they ever had before.

"If you're who I think you are," Ted said slowly, "and I'm not making you up, tell me something I don't know. Tell me...how my grandfather died. Your...father."

A sad look came into his eyes; he looked more like he did in some of his photos. "He died of a sudden and vicious heart attack. Not something wizards fall victim to often, but he had been alone in the house, so by the time my mother got home to him it was too late. I was seventeen."

"Did...you discover what he was doing?" Ted asked. He was surprised at how taken in he was all of a sudden. He had wondered what the experiments had meant to his father, especially since they were his experiments now too.

"No, I assumed he had given it all up once I started school. But I discovered why he was doing it. Teddy, you know that your grandfather was passionate about curing me and giving me my health back. But there was a side to it that you don't know, and that I didn't find out for a long time. It was his fault I was a werewolf. Indirectly, of course, but nonetheless, it was his actions that brought it about. He fooled Fenrir Greyback by offering to cure his lycanthropy for free, when really he was being paid to experiment on him to support the Ministry's anti-werewolf policy. Once he found out, Greyback decided he ought to have a taste of what lycanthropy really was, and he knew, to the great suffering of many families, how much more parents suffer their child's pain than their own. I was bitten not long after my sixth birthday, and my father lived in unending guilt. When I first found out, though, I didn't think about all that; all I felt was an overwhelming hurt that he had done this to me. I felt like our relationship could never be the same again, and I went back to school feeling like my nice little family was broken when nothing had really changed. Then, as I was about to leave school, I found out I probably wouldn't get a job even if I did pass my exams. I knew then that my father hadn't been trying to save me from the beast - the beast was what I was - but to save me from the fate that other people would give me. I wrote to him, but he died before I had a chance to see him. I spent the rest of my life wishing I could have a chance to apologise to him in person."

He looked down then, as if, even though it was all a very long time ago, that regret carried on.

Ted sighed. His poor grandfather had probably halted his experiments not because he'd discovered lycanthropy but because he'd realised he was ruining people's lives, not helping them, and his ideas were better off being enacted by someone else. But now history had repeated itself. The Lupin family had been let down again.

"...I take it you believe me now?" He said, hesitantly.

"Yeah," Ted said, and if he hadn't felt so terrible he probably would have smiled. He knew this was just his subconscious playing tricks; he'd gone down thinking of Dad and here he was. The story about Granddad had probably come up sometime when he was little and been buried in his memory for all these years. Still...

"I don't know where you've come from, and I'm still not sure if I've made you up, but...alright, I'll listen to you, Dad."

"Thank you, Teddy," Dad said. "It makes my job so much easier."

Ted wondered what this 'job' was. Maybe it was about closure. He'd let his dad down and now his subconscious wanted him to apologise for his ignorance and foolhardiness, and as soon as he did this painful dream would end.

"I'm sorry," he blurted. (if it wasn't real, why were the words so hard?) "I shouldn't have continued his experiments. It was...beyond stupid, it was...idiotic! I acted like a stupid kid who wants to impress other kids by jumping off a tree. I really thought I could do something. I thought I was someone special, someone who could change the world and make it into the place you and Mum wanted it to be, and turned out to be the biggest failure imaginable."

"You are not a failure!" Dad said, emotionally (how did his subconscious produce this?) "Yes, if you hadn't tried the experiment, you'd be happily married by now. You'd also be a lot healthier. But there's nothing wrong with wanting to help others. Especially when those others are people you love, and loved. You weren't just doing this for the world, or even for you and your Mum. You were doing it for Victoire. And for yourself."

"Selfish," Ted muttered.

"Not really," Dad said. "People take risks for themselves every day. At least you weren't only thinking of yourself. And whatever you say...you weren't doomed for the start."

Ted frowned, and noticed the shadows were over himself, too. "Well, whatever you say, I'm doomed for the end. It's easy for you to forgive me, you're dead. You can see the past and the present and the future and nothing needs to scare you or hurt you anymore. But someone like Victoire...she's supposed to have been my wife by now, and she'll probably never want to see me again."

"Teddy," Dad said. "Victoire will want to see you again, at least once more. Even if you think she won't understand, you have to at least give yourself, and her, a chance. You know why? Because this far, you haven't done that badly. You're telling yourself that this is the end and you've let everyone down but really, Teddy, all you've done is make a mistake. You genuinely believed you were going to turn into a werewolf - not irrationally, either, because for a moment even I thought you might..."

"Would you have been disappointed if I had?" Ted interrupted.

"I...I'd have hated to see you in that pain, Ted. The suffering never quite ends, even without the politics, and you know that so well I could see you were ready to resign yourself to it before it even began to happen. So yes, I was worried for you. But fortunately, your mother and I have worked to give you another chance."

"Genetically, yeah."

"I'm also here, aren't I?"

Not really, Ted thought. I'm making you up. I am making you up.

"Why are you here? How did you get here, if you're not a dream?"

"I can't tell you. These things are kept secret from the living, for a good reason."

Hmm, my imagination has its limits, Ted thought.

"It involved a lot of hard work, but I had to do it. I made mistakes in my life, Teddy. So did your grandfather. Huge, terrible mistakes. Some of them were our own fault, and some of it was the fault of the curse. But you still have a chance, and I'm here to make sure you save yourself from a terrible fate."

"I can't see what's more terrible than losing Victoire," Ted said, averting his eyes. It was the truth; he really could not imagine life without her. "Am I...am I going to die? Is that it?"

"No, you're not going to die! You're not going to lose Victoire either. Unless, of course, you don't go back."

Ted noticed an echo in the room then. The words 'go back' rang in his ears. It was almost ethereal; certainly nothing like an ordinary living room. The sun was setting behind him and it cast a beautiful golden glow in the room. For a second he thought that even though his father looked so much younger, he could recognise the spaces where the lines, the dark circles and all the other marks of stress and strain had been.

"I've told you once, and I will tell you again. You have made a mistake, Teddy. Quite a fault of judgement, but so far done purely out of love. The people who love you know you, they know you've got a lot of big dreams. Remember when you petitioned to save the Shack?"

Ted smiled. "Yeah. I thought that was pretty heroic of me at the time. But the older I get, the more I realise I ran a campaign to save a bloody shed. Although in retrospect, it's probably just as well I did."

"Much as I might loathe its memory, it is more than just a shed. I've been trying to tell Sirius that for a long time. It's a piece of history."

Sirius? My subconscious is not half clever, Ted thought.

"But, as I was saying...the people who truly love you will understand you make mistakes. They will be patient with you and they will forgive you. But they are human beings, not angels. Their capacity for forgiveness can only go so far. Ted, if you walk away from Victoire now, without even telling her why you left her wedding, you *will* lose her, because if you hurt her just that bit more she'll start to question why she loves you. You can have a great future with her, Ted, and don't tell me you don't deserve that future. I...I once almost walked out on you and your mother..."

Ted had known about this from Harry, but he hadn't quite believed it was true and buried the idea away in his mind. But he was all the more eager to listen for it.

"...because I thought I was too much of a failure and I'd never be able to give you what you deserved. She didn't care about what she deserved, she wanted me. But if I hadn't gone back to her when I did, she probably would have, justifiably, given up."

"Victoire's not Mum. She's probably already given up."

"You don't know that. And you won't know that unless you wake up and go back."

Ted wasn't used to references to waking up in dreams. If literature was to be believed, talking about waking up was a sign you weren't dreaming at all. Maybe his dad really had come down to talk to him.

"You really think I should do that? Don't you think I've done enough stupid things already?"

"Yes, you have made mistakes, but they're less stupid than you know. You'll get back on your feet, Ted."

Ted was overwhelmed all of a sudden. All his scepticism flew away and at that moment he really believed that his dad was in front of him. It was something he'd wanted for so long that he felt like, if he were really alive, he would have begun to cry.

"Alright, I'll do this. But I really don't know if she'll forgive me. I've let her down so badly."

"Not yet. She'll listen, if nothing else. If you love her, trust her. Trust yourself! I've got faith in you, Teddy, because despite my lamentable absence I do know you, and I love you. You've got a certain kind of heart in you. Your mother has it too."

Ted felt moisture on his cheeks. He was crying. He'd been told all his life that his mother and father were watching him and loving him, but he'd never had any real proof. Now, he believed it.

He noticed then that the room was much darker. The sun behind him had fully set and there were long shadows on the carpet. Dad's image was becoming a little less clear.

"Time's running out," he said. "Here, and there. You'd better wake up."

Ted knew that he had to, and now that he knew he had to see Victoire he wanted to, but this was his dad in front of him. There might be another sixty years before they saw each other again.

"So...you love me?"

"Yes, of course I love youy," Dad said, and Ted saw his genuine smile, but around the edges his image was fading. "We both do."

He didn't know quite what came over him, but he rushed towards his dad then. Dad knew exactly what he wanted, and stood up, and they embraced. For all this thoughts about how real or not real it was, this hug felt more real than any he had dreamt before. He believed...he knew, he was really with his dad.

"Can I ask one thing?" Ted said, without relinquishing the hug.
"Anything?"
"Wherever you are...are you still with Mum? I guess you're not allowed to tell me, but you know, I've always wondered, what with 'til death do us part' and all that."

There was that, and then there was the fact that he wanted to believe Dad had really loved Mum, that Gran would see Granddad again, and that love could survive all accidents.

"She is my soulmate," Dad said. "And our souls will never die. She is indeed still with me now, and I hope she always will be."

Ted felt his heart lift. Wherever his parents were, they had each other. He dared to hope that he and Victoire's souls would be the same...though hopefully a long way away from now.

"Will I ever see her?"

"Yes. When the time is right..." Dad said. He let go of Ted and took a step back. Suddenly the clock struck. It was unnaturally loud, especially with the echo, and its noise seemed to be causing Dad's image to fade. The whole room was fading away...

"Thank you, Dad," Ted cried, though he was afraid it was already too late. "Thank you! Thank you for..."

His head hit the floor, and he was awake. He opened his eyes and breathed out. It was dark and cold and he was still in the Shack, spread-eagled on the dusty floor. There was another loud bang, like that in the dream, and he turned his head. Someone was struggling with the door, and from the look for it they'd soon have it open. As he came to his senses a bit more, he heard voices.

"Are you sure he's here? It's not at all safe." Gran.
"Mrs Tonks, I'm as certain as I can be." Rupert. He was the one at the door.
"Wands, everyone." Harry.
"TED? Ted? Can you hear me?" Victoire...