A/N:
well hello my dudes. so im back on the quidditch train again! in a bid to clamp down on me wavering sanity! enjoy. stay safe during this quarantine, everyone, and don't be afraid to keep on living. (also if you understood that reference. pls tell me)
Inspired by Sleep by My Chemical Romance. i know the premise of the song doesn't match the story but you can listen to it for mood
(A Drink) For The Horror That I'm In
The thunder was so loud, Teddy almost missed the sound of the door crashing open.
He took one look at the scene and scrambled back up the stairs, regretting ever coming out of his room to see in the first place.
"Teddy." Gran's wand arm didn't tremble one jot. Lightning flashed, lighting up her figure momentarily, making her look like a stone carving of a goddess of legend. "Get the Floo going."
Teddy scuttled into the kitchen and did as he was told.
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"Are the both of you alright?"
Teddy nodded, resisting the urge to lean his head on Gran's shoulder. The Auror was grizzled, and his shoulders were set in a tight line. He had the weathered, hardened look of a veteran from the last war.
As it turned out, it had all been an accident. A Muggle burglar who had been on the run had dived into the first house he could find. Their house.
"We are," Gran replied, her chin high. Teddy had always admired his grandmother's poise, how unshakably calm she always was. It was one of the things he hoped to be one day. "Thank you for your help."
The Auror nodded and made to leave, and Teddy let loose a sigh of relief. But then—
"You're Tonks' kid," said the Auror abruptly, coat swirling as he turned to look at Teddy again. "Aren't you?"
Teddy shivered. Not in a good way. The Auror's eyes were like scalpels, cold and hard.
"You've got her face," the Auror went on. It felt like he was boring into Teddy's skull with his gaze. "She'd be proud of you."
There were tears in Gran's eyes as she muttered a soft 'thank you'.
Teddy didn't stick around long enough to see the Auror leave. He was in his room, slumped against the door, sucking in air like his life depended on it.
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Teddy sat at his desk, the ballpoint pen Victoire gave him for Christmas moving across the parchment in urgent, harsh strokes. It seemed to have a mind of its own, making marks on the paper like it had a purpose only it knew about.
When people looked at him—Uncle Harry, his Gran, that Auror that came by today—maybe it was all in his head, but…
He couldn't help but feel that they didn't see him. It was like when they looked at him, they saw his mother and his father, the people that they had known and loved and lost.
He felt as if he was behind a wall of glass, like a snake at the zoo, shut off from the world, and no matter what he did, people would never reach past the cocoon of expectation and legacy and see him. Not Teddy Lupin but Teddy, a normal boy with hopes and fears and interests and peeves and strengths and weaknesses.
The parchment gave way beneath his pen with a raw ripping noise, and Teddy drew in a sharp breath.
It was a picture of him, spiky hair shot through with dark inky shadows, kneeling on a night-stained floor, screaming for help as his hands gripped the cold metal bars criss-crossing over the page. Behind him swirled a bottomless whirlpool of darkness, and a sticky hand of fear closed around Teddy's throat.
The rip in the paper lay right where his face should have been.
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"Teddy," called Uncle Harry from the platform.
He left his trunk on the floor of the compartment and hopped down from the train to stand before his godfather. Harry's green eyes were dark with memory, and Teddy knew that he was seeing someone else.
"I thought you might like a snack for the train ride."
Teddy took the bar of chocolate into his hand. Maybe Victoire could share it with him on the train, if she wanted. Or he could try and find Lorcan and Lys, but something told him that they would be up to something on the train and they wouldn't want to be disturbed.
"Thanks, Uncle," he said. He hoped Harry could tell that he meant it.
Harry smiled and looked down. Teddy wondered what everyone would think if they got a picture of his godfather, the Chosen One, acting this awkwardly with a blue-haired boy at the train station. Probably accuse the Daily Prophet of Photoshop.
He clenched his jaw, ready for the customary anecdote, probably about how his father had given him chocolate on the train or at Hogwarts all those years ago, but Harry just put a careful hand on his shoulder.
"Have a good year, Teddy." Harry sounded apprehensive, like he wasn't sure what to say.
But Teddy knew he was trying, and that was what made his face break into a grin, despite himself.
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It was cold, and dark, and it felt all too familiar.
Teddy's eyes flew open, and he stared, frozen, at the figure sitting cross-legged behind the glass.
"You," he breathed, horrified.
"Me," nodded Teddy Lupin, solemn.
Teddy struggled in his chair, but the ropes around his wrists were impossibly tight. He gritted his teeth and thrashed fruitlessly in his seat. His double laughed with his voice and laced his fingers together, resting his elbows on his knees.
"Why are you doing this?" Teddy cried.
His double cackled. "Don't you understand?" he said, malicious delight tinging his words.
The darkness around them cleared, and Teddy could see people milling around his chair, going about their day. Completely oblivious to his plight.
A scream tore itself from Teddy, but the people on his side of the glass did not heed him.
"It's not you they want to see."
His double's face began to warp, the blue hair lengthening and turning pink, and Teddy found himself staring into the face of his mother.
"It's me," said Nymphadora Tonks, her voice half pitying, half sadistically gleeful. "As long as they look for me, they will never see you. And you will never be free."
Teddy shot upright in his bed like an arrow, heaving large gulps of air. The dorm was half-illuminated by the lamps on the walls, the succulents in their planter boxes casting twisted, spidery shadows up on the walls. There was something tight in his chest, stopping him from breathing, like a ball and chain had been looped round his neck, trapping him in the lingering terror of his dream.
"Teddy?"
He nearly fell out of his bed. Victoire's eyes were wide and blue, half-obscured by her pale blonde hair. She shrank back a little into the shadow of the doorway, one hand clutching the frame, unsure.
"What are you doing here? You're not a Hufflepuff," Teddy said, lifting a hand to smooth down his hair. Something about Victoire always made him want to look as presentable as he could. Not that she seemed to mind his appearance. Or care at all.
Victoire said nothing, instead choosing to make her way over to him. Teddy inched backwards in his bed as she sat down on the edge, close to his bedside table.
"Lou says you have bad dreams," Victoire said quietly. There was a slight lilt in her voice, like Aunt Fleur's but less pronounced. It made her voice feel airy, like a cloud high up in a blue sky. "I thought you might like..."
"Like what?"
Somehow, Victoire managed to make even shrugging seem elegant. "Company. I don't know. What do you need?"
Teddy watched the curls of her hair come down before turning his face away into the dark, stifling warmth of his bed.
"You can't help," Teddy whispered into his pillow. No one understands. He drew in a wobbling breath, cold air running down his throat, and trembled, hoping Victoir couldn't see it.
"I can't." Victoire's voice was soft, and Teddy started—he didn't think she'd answer him, let alone have heard him at all. "Not if you don't let me. I'll try, I promise. If you'll let me, that is."
Her fingers slid over the blanket, cautiously venturing over his shoulder. Victoire's hand was slim, and his scalp felt cold where it rested in his hair. Teddy didn't mind.
"Go to sleep."
The sheets rustled, and by the time Teddy had worked up the nerve to take a peek, he was alone with the yellow lamp lights again.
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When he finally went down to the Great Hall the next morning, his eyes immediately located her, sitting at the Ravenclaw table, cutting into her plate of waffles with precision. Teddy pushed away the sensation of his shallow breathing and counted the steps as he went to her side.
He tapped her on the shoulder, and she turned to look at him. Now that they were in the light of the morning, Teddy could see that her eyes were a deep blue, almost like the darkness in his dream, but for once, he felt like he could see what lay behind the depths.
He just hoped it was real.
"Did you mean it?" Teddy rushed out, breathless. "What you said last night?"
Victoire held his questioning gaze steadily. "Why would you think I didn't?"
The air whooshed out of him in a torrent. Something on his shoulders seemed to lift, like shackles being removed.
Teddy felt his face transforming, and he knew he was smiling. So was Victoire.
At long last, there was light shining through the bars.
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"So, what is it?" Victoire asked him later, when they both had breaks between their lessons. They sat at the edge of the Black Lake, watching the clouds move.
Teddy shook his head, and she sighed through her nose gently. "I can't help you if you won't tell me what's wrong."
He ducked his head, and he knew his hair was changing colour again but he didn't bother checking to see what colour it was now. Victoire didn't seem to notice, however, just slid her hand on top of his.
"You don't understand." Teddy hugged his knees and glared at the smooth, glassy surface of the lake. It looked a lot calmer than he felt.
"No," Victoire said. "But I want to."
His chest seemed to become lighter and more constricted all at once. Her hand on his was cool to the touch
"Can I?" Victoire's voice was earnest.
Teddy let her twine her arms round him, and he leaned his forehead into the crook of her neck. She smelled of something sweet and fresh.
And for the first time in a long time, Teddy felt free.
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Team: Wigtown Wanderers
CHASER 3: The Explorer - Goal: freedom OR Fear: Entrapment
OPTIONAL PROMPTS:
#4: (dialogue) "You don't understand."/"No. But I want to."
#9: (dialogue) "Go to sleep."
#15: (character) Teddy Lupin
Word Count: 1746