Disclaimer; See Prologue

A/N: Yes, there are very few letters left because these are all written in one night. The letters take me about thirty minutes to write so you have some sense of timescale.

Teddy took deep breaths. The message was simple enough. So perhaps Lupins had never been good at anything involving the opposite sex with what he hoped was the exception of the act itself, no matter. He would be calm. He would be himself. He would not have a panic attack.

"Hey, Vic!" He waved and smiled to himself in the mirror and sighed. No, it was too chipper for half past eight. He rubbed his eyes and tried again. "Sleep well, Vic?" No, too personal. She'd think he was thinking about her in bed and that was just sick.

He threw his hands in the air and aimed his request at the ceiling. "Dad, come on. Handy pick up lines; where is the list of? I know there's this whole 'be yourself' thing but I've been myself for thirteen years and I'm still no closer to getting rid of the disease that all girls seem to think I have. I know, I know, when it comes to diseases I get no sympathy from you…"

"Talking to your dad?"

Teddy gasped and took several steps back, tripping. The mattress saved him and he liked to think that it looked intentional.

"Hello."

Victoire bit back her smile and closed the door behind her, seating herself in Teddy's abandoned desk chair. She flicked through the parchment and was firmly told not to.

"Sorry."

Teddy shrugged. "Doesn't matter."

She smiled grimly. "It didn't sound like it doesn't matter, Ted. Oh, that's a nice picture."

He snatched his parents' wedding picture back. "Everyone's trying to read them. It's driving me mental. I don't eavesdrop on James' private conversations but the moment I try and keep something for myself, it's practically an offence."

Victoire smiled sympathetically. "I'm sorry. I'm just nosy."

Immediately, Teddy felt awful. "Look, I don't mean to be this crabby but it's coming up to the Full Moon and I get migraines and stuff." He turned and fluffed up his pillows, ever the neat freak.

Victoire frowned. "But you don't have Lycanthropy…"

He swung round. "When did I tell you I transformed? All I said was that at this time every month, I get headaches. Look, Lycanthropy is a blood disease, are you still keeping up? Right. So I have my dad's blood and he had Lycanthropy. It's really not that hard."

Victoire scoffed. "Why can't you ever just be nice to me? I don't know what's got into you."

And after she had stormed out, resigning himself to whispering a stream of profanities, Teddy accepted the fact that he truly was his father's son and sat at his desk with a Charms textbook. While he calmed down, he might as well do something productive.

He didn't even look up when the door knocked. If it was James he could bloody well entertain himself. It was only as he caught sight of Harry and three boxes in the corner of his eye, that he turned and made a gesture that signalled he was almost finished.

Slamming the book shut, he looked up and even managed a small smile. "Harry?"

The sounds of James, Albus and a crash had ensured that Teddy was alone as he flicked through three boxes of his father's photography. The first box held pictures of four boys, all in Gryffindor uniforms and all generally up to no good. The second was full of photographs mostly of the Potters, some occasionally of his father and a man who he easily recognised as Sirius Black and an extraordinarily large cat who he supposed was Rowntree.

He set to work, unable to use magic and with only Bluetack at his disposal, sticking picture after picture onto the wall, leaving a particular favourite beside his mirror for future reference.

Once his room had been converted into a shrine, he pushed his bed into the middle of the room and studied them. By now, he felt brave enough to open the last box, pictures Harry had warned him would be of his parents together.

His hands shook as he pulled out a picture of his heavily pregnant mother, running her hands through her hair and glaring at the camera, underneath which was written 'Dora Lupin in her natural habitat…mess!' in his father's italic loops.

Deciding he would save that box for when he felt less melancholy, he slid it under his bed and stood before his mirror. He took a deep breath and studied his father intensely, watching him raise an eyebrow at 'The Damned', both of whom were for some unfathomable reason, leaning on shovels.

Teddy removed his turquoise hair and found the auburn hair he had been promised, high cheekbones, a long neck and the very same eyes that stared out of the picture at him from a laughing young man carrying a shovel; the eyes of the Blacks.

Good. That meant he only had to concentrate on changing his eyes. It would be easy. Teddy screwed up his face and opened his eyes to find wide, black orbs staring at his reflection.

For the life of him he could not understand his father's hatred of his eyes. They were breathtaking.

"Cool," he murmured, taking yet another glance at the photograph to ensure he had the shade just right. He grinned. There was no denying it; he was the spit of Remus Lupin.

"Is this what you really look like then?"

Teddy nodded. "I thought maybe you'd want to see it. I think you're the only one who hasn't."

Victoire beamed at him. "You have amazing eyes."

Unable to quite master the ability to keep his charcoal eyes without concentrating one hundred percent of the time, they had returned to their natural silver and while Teddy would have preferred black to complete the Lupinesque ensemble, they would do.

"I'm sorry."

Victoire rolled her eyes. "Stop saying that. You're really getting on my nerves."

"Sorry."

"Ted!"

Teddy laughed and leaned back against the tree trunk. "I've been short with everyone lately, it's not just you. I don't know if that helps."

"Get short with me again and I would run," said Victoire. "It'll give you something to do with the last seven seconds of your life."

Teddy grinned back at her and produced an old piece of parchment which he handed to her.

"What's this?"

"It's my dad's first letter."

Victoire raised her eyebrows. "I thought you didn't want anyone reading these?"

"Yeah but you're not 'anyone', are you?"