Author's note: Surprise. It's me. As you may be able to tell from my vanishing out, school kicked my ass like you wouldn't believe this semester (in a good way) and the fact that I wanted Chapter 100 to be extra special (because some of you have been reading this drabble collection for 100 chapters!?) made that tough. Just so you know, the Google Doc where this story lives has hit 334 pages and takes ages to load. I'll be starting a new one for all the next chapters to live in since I do want to write more regularly now and will be able to do so during the break. Thank you so much for all the reviews and likes and follows and love you've shown this story. Enjoy this chapter!

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns the canon, world, and characters portrayed below and you can tell I'm not J.K. Rowling because #transrights

Content Warnings: Terminal illness

Because I Want You To Know

Dad was doing that thing again. The thing where he looked at the book he had open on his lap even if his eyes were too unfocused to possibly be reading. He did it when he was particularly exhausted but didn't want to worry the rest of them–but it drove Teddy absolutely mad. It made his father that much harder to keep an eye on, to take care of, which was probably why he did it. He never did like to worry them, but how could they not? Mum called him out whenever she saw him doing it, but Teddy wasn't quite that bold. Not with his father, not when he was sick like this.

"You know, Victo and I keep a running list of baby names," Teddy said. "All of them are flowers, you know, because of Fleur–and because it would be rude to leave out a third kid if we ever have one, since we already have Marguertie and Iris. We already have a Lily and a Rose in the family, but we have a lot of others. Harry blacklisted Petunia but that's fine, I don't like the sound of it anyways. But we've still got lots; there's Violet, Heather, Poppy, Holly, Laurel, Daisy, some French ones... I think Dahlia might be my favourite, that's what I would push for if we had another girl. It'd be harder to stick to the theme if we had a boy or wanted a gender-neutral name, but at this point I think we need to commit to the bit, you know? I do think Sage would work, or Sorrel, even if that's a tree…"

"Why are you telling me all of this?" Dad asked, looking up from his book though his head still seemed to loll and his eyes were hollow. He never had time to heal between full moons, now. He always got hurt so bad when he was transforming, as if his bones were brittle and his skin paper-thin and his immune system slow as a burn. That was the problem now; the main problem. Every full moon put more and more stress on a sicker and sicker body.

"Just because…" Teddy wet his lips. Because the Healers had told Dad that they likely wouldn't be able to do anything but keep him more-or-less comfortable months ago now. Because Mum's eyes had been bloodshot when he'd come over, which meant she wasn't sleeping which probably meant that Dad's breathing sounded like hell or that she had some other reason to stay up worrying. Because they were well into the First Quarter of the moon cycle today, which was when the minute changes that prepared a werewolf' body for transformation began–not that any of them had noticed that before.

"Because I want to tell you things," Teddy said with a shrug. "That's all."

Dad didn't look convinced but he sank back into his seat.

"I like Dahlia," Dad said. "Is Cassia on your list of flowers?"

"No," Teddy said. "We should add it, though. It's pretty."

"Not as pretty as Dahlia," Dad said. "Or Sage. Maybe that's what you need to do to break the Metamorphagus streak terrorizing your wife; have a boy."

"I'll fly it by her," Teddy said.

"But have a girl. Dahlia's a pretty name," Dad said. "Not that it matters, of course. Children always come out in their own way and you love them no matter what."

"You sure do," Teddy said. "Speaking of which, Iris has been an absolute terror practising for the school choir lately–she's always looking for a captive audience…"

"I would love to listen," Dad said. "Ask Margo if she wants to come listen too. And while they're busy, can you call Victoire or Jamie to come pick them up? I need… I think I need to go to St. Mungo's."

Teddy tried not to take too deep a breath. He tried not to breathe, not to move, not to… not to…

"Sure," Teddy said. "She's at work, but I'll give Dominique a call."

"Okay," Dad said, his nod decisive as if he'd just concluded an important deal.

Teddy got up and gently put a bookmark in his father's book before leaning forwards and wrapping his arms around them.

"When I say she's been a terror, I mean it though," he warned his father again.

"I'm not afraid," his father said with a faint smile.

WC: 733.

And in case you missed the author's note, no this is not the last chapter. Think of it as the bookend of the timeline these drabbles are exploring.