A/N: I've had this idea in my head for I don't know how long before actually writing a bit of it, a few months ago. This is one of the few chapters I wrote, and edited. I know vaguely how the story must go for the ending I have in mind to conclude... I just need to decide some story nuances, and fixate ideas and plots points (and then write it KASHDKAHJSDA). This won't be updated regularly, that's the gist. Other than that, I'm happy overall.

If someone is reading this, tell me what's your thoughts — I do love to talk, and knowing someone is actually reading it, makes my ADHD buzz with excitement to write.

Chapter I | A Technicolour Night

Perhaps, the celebration gathering of the 2nd of May had once held more of a deeper meaning for most who attended it.

But watching people flaunting their finest robes, holding goblets of the finest beverages in their hands; while laughing and chatting aloud in their little cliques, brings up the bitter reality that this event has turned out to be yet another holiday on the calendar. Where people use it as an opportunity to meet old friends, eat good food and socialize with important people.

Teddy Lupin, who walked aimlessly through the halls of the castle, never quite managed to digest that day very well.

He had a clue on paper why they celebrated it, but at the same time, he never really understood exactly what they were actually celebrating. The 2nd of May, just as the previous and latter days which accompanied it, never brought the joy and comfort that many seemed to elated on it. No, those days always managed to bring him... terribly down.

Stargazing under the Scottish sky, Teddy was finally able to breathe easier. He couldn't fathom how people who had actually fought the war could stay inside that stifling, warm Hall, between all those random ass people, and not scream bloody murder.

He knew he'd have to come back in a few minutes, his Da and his cousins had already probably noticed his absence. But Ted needed those minutes to himself; he needed to smell the wet grass from the open courtyard; he needed to feel the cool spring wind on his face; he needed to get away from his Da's worried looks. He needed to be... alone.

With one last sigh, Teddy dawdled down towards the sixth floor staircase — the mere glimpse of Padfoot and uncle George chasing Peeves at the end of the hall making him pause for a moment. Merlin, what prank are they setting up for tomorrow morning, and most importantly, should he be concerned?

The memory of his dad talking about how their friendship had blossomed out of the blue, but in the end was what they both needed, came into his head. With the death of his twin brother, Fred, in the Battle, George was left completely aimless; he didn't leave his flat, he barely ate, he didn't do anything. Dad said he resembled more of a shadow, than anything else. Teddy wasn't able to assimilate that description with the image he's always had of his Uncle George: playful, lively, warm. Same for Pads, who at the time were in a much similar situation as of his business partner. And since then, those two had become sort of... inseparable.

Shaking the memories out of his head, the boy turned left in the dark corridor. It might seem a bit of a self-contradictory view, but he didn't look down at his uncles — or anyone else's impacted by the War — "non-ideal" behaviours at all.

The celebration was always the same litany, always the same old people, always the same card-read speeches. All very well rehearsed. Teddy could often feel the palpable frustration which wafted out of his godfather in waves in those places; especially since he was the centre of attention everywhere really, and Merlin helped if the topic was the Second Wizarding War… Then, Harry wouldn't be able to leave for at least ten minutes.

Surely, the only reason Harry came to it annually was that he wanted to pay respect to his fellow War Heroes; either the ones who survived and the ones who hadn't. And the fact that he couldn't leave them out astray, his family — and his formal professors. Teddy understood it, on a certain level. The weight of everything his godfather has gone through isn't something he will ever be able to get rid of.

Harry will always carry unimaginable pain and guilt on his shoulders, regardless of whether he's at fault or not. And for reasons like so, he'd spend the entire night in a Tom and Jerry situation, where he'd hide behind friends and family, from anyone who wanted to praise or have an important work talk with him.

As he'd mentioned before, Teddy got him on a certain level. Well, he didn't abandon the table to assemble pranks on the much younger students the next day, like his uncles; or also didn't have to give out a mini-speech, before hiding behind his 7-years old daughter, with the excuse of being extremely busy.

But the boy had also somehow created his own little routine; from waiting with his cousins on one of the courtyard's benches for their friends and families to arrive, in silence; from they finally arriving, which was always very excitable — since they hadn't seen each other since the Yule's holidays; then, while the Hall was yet to fill, he headed towards the large Memorial, which was positioned next to the Headmistress podium. There, he took his sweet time decorating around his mum's portrait, with colourful flowers and one or two words of affection.

But his favourite part of it all — well, besides seeing his family, was at the very end of the whole ordeal; when everyone else had already bid their goodbyes, and those who were left were the survivors and their close family, along with the school's staff. Then, only then, the boy would walk back towards the Memorial, his heart always leaping at first with the impact the first look had on him. There, on what once looked like a boring rectangular glass filled with names and photographies, now resembled more of a piece of art; colours adorned almost every centimetre of space; together with non-stopping blossoming flowers; diverse ornament charms; little fairies flying all around it.

And Teddy's most awaited part; the little messages and marks their loved ones left it on the colourful glass, made with ink or sometimes even Muggle sharpies. It made him feel as if with their words, they brought those moving faces alive for a few seconds; a wake-up call for whom hadn't met them, that those were once real flesh and bone wizards. Not mere names and dates on a plaque.

A thud followed by a grunt from the stairs below jolted Teddy out of his thoughts. He truly hoped it was one of his uncles who'd fallen on their arses, rather than a student who'd been out of their Common Room after curfew. The sixth year didn't want to have to deal with his Prefect duties at this exact moment.

"Who's out there?"

The noise stopped in an instant.

Teddy headed toward the stairs, squinting his eyes to try to see something under the low light, then raised his wand. "Lum—"

"Expelliarmus!"

The high-pitched gasp caught him so off guard, that if she hadn't disarmed him, his wand would have dropped to the floor just the same with such shock. But instead of falling to the ground, as he'd expected, Teddy saw his wand fly towards the bottom of the last step; a dimly lit shadow, slumped to the ground, picking it up mid-air.

"What in the bloody fucking hell?"

Seeing now two wands pointed at him, Teddy raised his arms in the air in surrender, muttering a line of 'what the fucks' one after the other.

"Who are you?" she heaved, with an oddly authoritative edge.

"E-Edward, I'm a… a Prefect."

For fuck's sake, was that the best he could've come up with? What was he going to do, take House points?

And what the fuck was actually going on here? Teddy doesn't want to be known as the first victim of the new wave of Death Eaters; the—the Neo-Eaters or whatever dumb name they'll probably come up with.

With this new track of thoughts, his heart started to gallop. Oh, bloody Helga Hufflepuff. He's going to die tonight.

As the sounds of hurried footsteps started coming from behind him, Teddy crept along one of the stone walls. Seeing from his peripheral vision, whom he assumed to be a girl by the voice, crawling backwards deeper into the shadows on the floor of the corridor. Hearing his name being called, Teddy relaxed for a second — averting his eyes away momentarily from the Neo-Eater propping herself up in one of the alcoves, not seeing the silent spell she was mouthing his way.

With a yelp, the boy flew over the top of the stairs, lending somewhere behind the girl, who was now holding herself up with her back to him; beading a bit to the right, but with her wand pride in the air.

Due to his earlier cry, the shouts of his dad become more frantic and closer. Teddy watched how her left hand was now clutching on her stomach, thinking that now should be the moment where he should seize her momentary lack of senses and attack her from behind; muggle style. Is it dirty? Yeah, it could be seen that way. But, hey, not when she held his wand somewhere within her robes.

Following his not really thought through plan, Teddy used his towering height and Keeper-player strength as an advantage, and locked his left arm under her neck; slamming her petite body into his, while trying to drag her behind with him. She thrashed against his body, trying to pull away, her cries muffled by his right hand dropped over her mouth.

He genuinely considered for a few moments that he now had a chance of surviving until his dad came to help him; that until an elbow connected to his face while at the same time, her foot finally landing somewhere between his legs. Teddy let her go with a cry, trying to balance himself on the wall; hand flying to his nose.

"What' s'that?... S'me!" she groaned, voice more slurred than before. Even with his water-filled vision, he could see that wasn't very well. "Why… aren't ya… in t'courtyard with… 'em? 'M'try—,"

His dad was there, she heard his faints step foots too. Backing away from the side of the wall, the girl propositioned herself in front of him again, with more strength he thought she had — making Teddy even more confused. Who's in the courtyard? What's she trying to do? Why was—

Remus was hopping up the steps, slowly but with precision. Teddy didn't need to be seeing him, to know that his wand would be already pointed, hawk eyes not missing any information; confident but weary stance, the one he always went on and on in his extracurricular classes. Teddy knew he was going to be OK.

So why wasn't he really feeling scared any more? Why was the dishevelled girl actually making him feel… safe?

All of those thoughts and actions started happening within seconds of each other.

At first, like in slow-motion, the shadow of his dad's torso began to emerge from under the low slits of candlelight that illuminated the head of the stairs. If he didn't know who it was, the scene that looked straight out of a horror muggle film, would've made him completely shit his boxers.

By the way the girl's grip on her wand tightened, she also seemed to share his thoughts. When Remus' corduroy boots came into their field of vision, she cried; the louder she's had spoken all night.

"Protego!"

And so, Teddy watched with his eyes wide open, the strongest shield charm he'd seen since Da's demonstration last year; she cast it with such force, that Remus flew down the stairs with a grunt of pain.

With his first thought being checking if his father was all right, Teddy almost didn't notice the girl sliding back to the cold floor. This wasn't a standard side effect. Apparently, the energy she'd put into protecting 'em had drained away every last bit of what she was using to hold herself up.

"...Here," she gave his wand a flimsy kick, the repetitive clang of it rolling towards his boots resonated louder than her croaked whisper. No candlelight was necessary for him to see that she wasn't getting any better. "...Go…"

The heavy tread of his father's boots echoed through the empty corridors, now faster. It wasn't a silly boys' fight that he was thinking when he heard the grunts before, no. Remus knew there was a duellist there, he understood the risks; but he also had the notion that his son was in the midst of it all; so he'd come aggressively. No sneaky stances, no defensive approaches.

Knowing it, Teddy leapt in front of the girl without a second thought.

"Dad, stop!"

The older man halted surprised in his tracks, clearly not expecting that reaction from his kid. With tension touching every muscle in his body, it was fair to interpret that Remus wasn't thinking straight at the moment; more so, acting out of his feelings of tribulation, mixed with anger, and uttermost concern for his child's safety.

Remus took a step towards 'em, wand still outstretched. Before he could open his mouth and order Teddy out of his way, the girl out-beat him.

"...P'fessor?"

Her little broken heave was what seemed to snap Remus out of his struck combat-posture. Even in the lowlight, Teddy could differentiate several expressions floating over his pale face; from glowering, to confounded, and concern; until it flashed rapidly and then stopped abruptly, sticking in an odd countenance Teddy hadn't seen before; though he could recognize the flicker of disbelief swirling in his green irises.

With a silent spell, the tip of his father's wand emitted a bright orange light—illuminating the once-almost dark corridor.

Thinking themselves safe, Teddy stepped side-ways, trying to explain the situation hurriedly, "I-I think she's hurt herself or-or something. I-I don't kno—Bloody hell!"

In that very moment, Teddy wasn't sure he'd swallowed the words or if it'd been regurgitated from his mouth. The scene had such an impact on him, that even if he wanted to, he knew he wouldn't be able to forget the state the girl was in.

Blood.

There was blood everywhere.

Blood and dirt. It soaked into the bruised patches of showing skin; her unruly hair covered most of her glistening face; that was matted and crusted by the same gray dust, which covered her entire form. Teddy didn't know where to avert his eyes. Not a trace of her seemed fine, everywhere he looked there was some purple and reddish bruises, small cuts, larger slashes… And were those burns? Sweet Merlin.

It wasn't until he saw his dad laying her on the stone floor, and unbuttoning her cloak, that he understood why she held such an unfaltering grip on her sides before.

Under a blood soaked jumper — that took Teddy a few grisly seconds to recognize it once was supposed to knitted yellow and black; a deep vertical wound was stretched out across the left side of her torso; starting somewhere under her plaid school skirt, travelling a straight path over her hips, then stomach, and due to her jumper not being completely out — he wasn't sure where it was supposed to end.

Merlin, Teddy believed he was for sure going to be sick now.

Still knelling over the girl's body, his Da traced his wand over the gnarly wound, muttering an incantation that sounded almost like a song. Teddy attempted to cast lumos himself, in beside his trembling hands. He then watched the flow of blood seeming to ease; Ted had to look away, feeling his belly lurch of a sudden.

Remus then repeated the spell, the blood seemed to clear, and the slash looked bits bettered; and so he repeated one last at time, the wounds now seemed to be fully knitting by the end of his song-like murmurs.

In the midst of the silence that fell over the two men, the only sound that could be heard was the gasps of air the older Lupin was sucking in and out of his mouth; shorter and shorter, as if he were descending rapidly into an abyss of panic. It was just the time of Teddy moving a worried hand over his hunched shoulder, that Remus turned to his side; and with his weight now supported by his elbows, he created a splurge of technicolour yawn all over the floor—bits and pieces of the expensive buffet all thrown in the mix.

Ted jerked back, now having a clearer view of the scene they were in. Bloody fucking hell. He hadn't even thought of it before, was she that ill through their whole night? A shudder passed through his body at the sight of the blood trails she's had created down the stairs, and floor. She needed medical help now.

He had no idea how much that spell his dad performed actually healed her permanently, nor what the fuck had happened to her in these past minutes to have such gnarly wounds. All he knew is that no one who had lost that much blood, would be able to survive extra more minutes idly.

"Da, I'm going to take her to Madam Pomfrey."

He made a job of taking her gently in his arms, mentally thanking his auntie Ginny for always nagging him about the needs of training every day. Not that he required anyway, he thought with a frown, noticing how sickly light-weighted she felt.

His dad stopped him on his track.

"The map," he said, cleaning his throat. "You know the passageways. You mustn't been seen by anyone, Ted. D'you copy?"

With an accio, he leaned the map over her unconscious body. "Yeah, yeah. Must've been seen. I copy."

"We'll meet you there."

With that one last promise, Teddy bolted out of there as fast as his lanky legs could carry him.