Teddy, without even asking, was allowed at the next Order meeting. Of course, it was bittersweet—he noticed Remus wouldn't even make eye contact with him. The talked about disappearances more than anything: plans were being made to try and recruit people to not join the growing dark wizard army, but it was clear that very few in the group could actually go about and canvas. Most of the Order members either worked for the Ministry or were simply not proper house guests for most people.

"I'd do it," Teddy suggested.

"Absolutely not," Mad-Eye huffed.

So, the rest of the meeting was more about preventative measures that people could take: watching known 'former' followers of You-Know-Who, protecting known muggle-born witches and wizards, that sort of thing. There was one glimmer of hope for Teddy, however: Mad-Eye had a new lead for him and Remus. Of course, Teddy was pleased but his father wouldn't even give him the time of day. He had simply looked at Mad-Eye and muttered:

"Good."

The crazy-eyed Auror had mentioned a name that Teddy felt was familiar, but he couldn't quite place where: Patrick Hughes. Perhaps the young man knew him, perhaps he didn't and had only read about him, but something in his gut told him that this new lead would be far different from the other. After the meeting, most members left but Remus was to spend the night at Grimmauld Place. Teddy watched his father ascend the stairs and waited a moment before following the werewolf up to their room. Remus had just sat on his bed when Teddy entered and slammed the door behind him.

"You hate me now, is that it?" Teddy questioned. He stared right at Remus, and for the first time saw his eyes: they weren't angry. If anything, they looked sad.

"I don't hate you," Remus whispered. "Far from it."

"Then what's the matter?" Teddy asked angrily. "You haven't spoken to me in days, you avoided me all during the meeting we had—which, by the way, involved crucial information for us in our next task—and to me there seems to be no other explanation."

"I told you," Remus paused, "I don't hate you."

"Then what?"

"I'm ashamed of myself!" Remus yelped.

This took Teddy by surprise. Ashamed? What of? Teddy knew what Remus considered to be his darkest secret—what more was there?

"Ashamed of what?" Teddy demanded, taking a seat on his own bed. "Whatever it is, you can tell me: we work together, eat together, sleep in the same room—you can't keep it hidden for long," he insisted. Remus sighed.

"I'm ashamed of my own behavior," he explained. "The other day you implored me not to ask about the details of your birth—I kept pushing, even tried to bargain with you. It was wrong of me to do so and I haven't been able to live it down since."

Teddy felt like he could laugh. "That's…that's it?" He asked incredulously. "Merlin, Remus, if that's all—"

"It's not all," the older man huffed. "It was selfish of me to ask and you know it. Not only must reliving your father's death be painful of you, I kept poking and prodding and trying to get you to open up about something I have no business knowing about."

Teddy paused for a moment. It was true—that was how he had felt about the situation. But unbeknownst to Remus, Teddy knew why he had been asking: curiosity.

"It's not wrong of you to ask," the young man reasoned. "You've got to be curious—I mean, it's fairly uncommon, even in my time, for werewolves and witches to…intermingle. I don't blame you for wondering why it happened. I can't talk about it, of course, but it's understandable. I suppose you want what everyone else does—someone to love, a family—"

"Yes," Remus sighed, "But it feels selfish of me to want such a thing—especially with the woman I want it with," he added. Then, he stiffened up, eyes widening. "I shouldn't have said that," he whispered. "I shouldn't have said—"

"It's Tonks, yeah?" Teddy interjected. Remus said nothing, but Teddy smiled. "Don't worry—I won't tell her," he lied, "But you really shouldn't worry too much."

"Not worry?" Remus nearly gasped. "I'd be robbing her! Robbing her of youth, of innocence, of loving someone worthy—"

"You are worthy," Teddy insisted. "Even if you can't see it yourself, you're worthy of all the things you believe you cannot have. You're still human, Remus, and so you want human things. You're not crazy, and you certainly aren't robbing anyone of anything. My parents adored each other, from what I'm told, and never once was my father's illness an issue for my mother," he said truthfully. It was Remus who had posed the greatest roadblocks in the relationship.

"I just don't see how that's possible."

"Well," Teddy huffed, crossing his arms, "I'm here, aren't I? You think I'd exist if it weren't true?"

Remus fell silent. He couldn't imagine it for himself, not yet anyways, but clearly it had worked out for someone else. "Your mother," he began, "She really didn't care?"

Teddy shook his head. "The only think she seemed to mind was that every month he had to go through unspeakable horrors and pains. That was the worst part, I'd reckon: watching your loved one suffer while you are powerless to help. But that happens for any couple, really. There are things you want to do for the ones you love that you can't," Teddy said, voice breaking slightly. He wanted to badly to tell Remus who he was, to cure him of his heartbreak and make him see reason. You can't, his innermost voice told him. You can't do that.

Remus gave Teddy a small smile. "You really are incredibly perceptive. You seem to know exactly what to say—and exactly when. I have to imagine your parents would be very proud of you."

"I know," Teddy said hoarsely. "I think about that every day—what they would think of me if they got the chance to know me." And now they have, he thought to himself. And now you know for sure that your parents are proud of the young man you've become. "So, we're good then, yeah? No more avoiding eye contact, no more not speaking to one another?"

Remus chuckled to himself. "I promise that from now on, if I seem angry, it will be for some other reason—never because of you, Teddy, unless that temper acts up again."

The young Lupin laughed. "Well, we'll just have to see about that, yes?" His temper really did have a hold over him.

"Only person I've met with such a temper is Sirius," Remus joked. "Something about the Black family…hot-blooded, they are."

You're not wrong, Teddy wanted to say. He was sure now more than ever that his little outbursts reflected more of his mother's side than his father's.

"Well, they aren't the only ones keeping things bottled up inside, are they?"

And the two men laughed.


Later that night, after Remus had fallen asleep, Teddy left his own room to knock on Sirius' door. The man said 'come in' in a rather brisk tone and Teddy opened the door to see him hunched over on his bed, holding a picture frame.

"It's me and…well, my old friends," he whispered, putting the frame down on the bed and patting to his left for Teddy to take a seat. "You want to see what a young Remus Lupin looked like?"

It was an offer Teddy could hardly refuse. He sat down next to Sirius and took the frame from him. The shaggy-haired Animagus himself had his arm around a young man with sandy-brown hair and a scar running across his face. Teddy couldn't keep himself from gasping: the young man looked so similar to himself it was almost frightening.

"You see what I mean, then?" Sirius began, "When I say you look like him? Of course, you have some of your mother in you...but it's a bit eerie, really."

Teddy nodded, looking at the picture in silence. His father was grinning, whispering something in Sirius' ear as James and Peter stared into the camera. He had seen only a few pictures of Remus before, and none from when his father was his own age. He understood Sirius entirely.

"I…" he trailed off, putting down the picture gently, "I wanted to talk to you."

"I assumed," the man chuckled. "You did come in here after all. What's the matter?" He asked.

Teddy looked down at his feet a moment before turning to Sirius. "I have a bad feeling about this new lead," he admitted. "It doesn't feel like the last one—and I always trust my gut, so I say this with the upmost certainty—I think something will go wrong." Sirius raised a brow.

"Wrong?" He questioned. "What kind of wrong?"

"The name Mad-Eye said," Teddy elaborated, "I recognized it. I don't know from where and I don't know why, but I recognized the name of the pack leader and it just felt…different. Am I crazy?" He laughed. Sirius shook his head.

"Not crazy…But this is Mad-Eye, right? Member of the Order? You really think he'd want to send his best werewolf on a suicide mission?"

Teddy shook his head. It wouldn't seem like he did. "No, but…"

"Then I hardly think you have anything to worry about," Sirius assured the boy. "But I expect that isn't enough for you."

"Er…" Teddy began, "Not quite. You see, my girl knows where I'm going and why—she was quite excited about it all—but clearly she doesn't know how long I'm here for nor what I'm doing. I'm worried, that's all, that maybe something bad happens and…You know…I have a son on the way and—"

"And you're worried you won't get to meet him," Sirius finished, putting a hand on Teddy;s shoulder to draw him near. "You wouldn't be the first to worry, and certainly not the last. It's natural—I saw James think the same thing with Harry. I suppose it's what fatherhood does to a man—makes him paranoid and scared about things he cannot control."

Teddy nodded, and Sirius continued: "I'll never understand it, but it's natural. If, and I mean if," he emphasized, "I'd get word to your family. I'm not sure how, but between Dumbledore and myself, we'd make it happen—yeah?"

"Yeah," Teddy whispered. He looked back down at his hands. "Thank you," he said earnestly. "It…it means a lot that you'd do that for someone you don't even know—"

"I do know you," Sirius insisted. "I look at you and you know very well who I see. I'd do anything for my last remaining friend—and for my cousin. You're family, and your little runt is too. I truly believe you'll be alright, but even if you aren't…you've turned out fine, haven't you? And Harry as well?"

Teddy had to admit this was true. He and his godfather, despite the odds against them, had turned out to be decent folk. "I suppose that's true," he conceded. "It's still hard to imagine, even if I have lived it myself." He tried to sit up a bit straighter and looked right into Sirius' eyes. "The boy's name will be Remus—I've promised myself that. Names are important, and I want to give my son a name he'll be proud of."

Sirius chuckled. "Remus Lupin does have a nice feel to it…rolls of the tongue, quite familiar really." Teddy snorted.

"Oh come on now, don't be sarcastic—"

"I'm not!" Sirius insisted. "It really does sound familiar…Merlin, where have I heard that name before…"

Teddy elbowed the older man and smiled. "Alright, alright. You can lay off now."

"So, we've got this covered?"

"Yeah," Teddy smiled. "Yeah, I think we do."