Chapter 9

- Guilty -

Arkie winced at the out of tune pinging of Ron's piano skills. Hermione sat beside him. "Be a bit gentler." Ron tried again but showed no improvement. She got up, glancing around the room. Arkie had found an old herbology book and was flipping through the pages while Harry was fiddling with his snitch by the fireplace. "How's Teddy?" She asked.

Arkie put down her book for a second. "Upset. Hasn't left his room in two days, won't each much either."

"I think Teddy was too harsh on Remus." Hermione said, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

"Actually," Arkie reopened her book. "I think Remus was too harsh on Teddy."

"They both said things they regretted." Harry said from the fireplace. Everything was silent, Ron turned up the speaker on the radio. Hermione sat down besides Harry, looking at the golden ball in his hand. "They have flesh memories. When Scrimgeour first gave it to you, I thought it might open at your touch. That Dumbledore had hidden something inside it."

"I'm going to check on him." Arkie said, getting onto her feet and walking up the small staircase towards Teddy's room. When she opened the door she found him sitting on the windowsill, his mother's jewelry box and letter in hand. "Hey, Ted. You okay?"

"No more okay then when you came to visit me half an hour ago." His voice was dull and dry.

She walked into the room, a lively feel in her step. "Gotta say love what you've done with the place." She said humorously. "I mean the dust, the unmade beds, the destroyed desk, the lack of air flow and the binds- oh yes, the closed blinds really top it off." A small grin tickled Teddy's lips. He looked up her quietly.

"I'm sorry. It's just..."

"I know." She placed a hand in his. "But we need you out there, Teddy." He gestured to the door with her head. "You're like, the best dueler we have. Without you, we don't stand a chance." She sat down beside him, watching her words take effect. She slowly took the box and letter from his hands and placed it on his unmade bed.

Her golden eyes stared at his unblinkingly. A strained breath sounded in his throat. "Alright." He got up, and with Arkie at his side, walked down the stairs. Halfway down, Arkie stopped him. "Your dad didn't mean what he said, you know that? He's just stressed."

"We all are."

They took a few steps into the living room and a second after he awkwardly waved at the others there was a loud crack!

For a split second, Teddy thought and hoped it might be his dad returning. But instead a short, bald, scruffy dressed man that smelled on dirt and cigarettes appeared at the end of the room, two house-elves clinging to his leg and head. "Get off!" The man grunted, waving his arms frantically.

"Harry Potter!" Dobby gasped joyfully, clinging onto Mundungus' leg for dear life. Teddy smiled at the sight of Dobby. "So long it's been!"

"Get off me!" Mundungus growled, tripped on his own foot and tumbled over. Both house-elves toppled off onto the ground.

Kreacher snarled viciously. "As requested, Kreacher has returned with the thief, Mundungus Fletcher."

"Expellliarmus!" Teddy said, flicking the wand Mundungus had been reaching for out of his hand and into his own. Mundungus stared at his attackers, then at the witches and wizards standing before hi, each one glaring in a cold stare. Teddy had an expression that could give acid a run for its money. Mundungus looked up at him, looking frightened when he noticed to two small, yet deep, scars on his temple and jaw.

He jumped onto his feet, his crouched stance reminding Teddy of Peter Pettigrew, scared and guilty. "What you playing at?" He demanded. "Setting a pair of bleeding house-elves after me!"

"Dobby was only trying to help." Dobby said, climbing up on the kitchen table. "Dobby saw Kreacher in Diagon Alley, which Dobby thought was curious." Kreacher tried to say something but Dobby cut in. "And then Dobby heard Kreacher mention Harry Potter's name." Kreacher opened his mouth once more and Dobby cut in again. "And then Dobby saw Kreacher talking with the thief, Mundungus-"

"I'm no thief!" Mundungus shouted, offended. You foul little- Git." He took a step forward but stopped when everyone pointed their wands at him. Kreacher had somehow found a short pocket knife which he poked the man with unkindly. "I'm a purveyor of rare and wondrous objects."

"You're a thief, Dung." Teddy said with a roll of his eyes. "Everyone knows it."

"Master Lupin!" Dobby walked up to him, still standing on the table, and shook his hand gently. "So good to see you again."

"You too, Dobby." He smiled at the elf softly, then scowled back at Mundungus.

Mundungus muttered something. "Listen, I panicked that night, all right?" He stammered to Teddy. "Could I help it if Mad-Eye fell off his broom?" Arkie put and hand on Teddy's chest, to stop him from running at the cowering wizard.

"If you'd only been there you little-" He stopped himself, taking a long breath. "Just... When you turned this place over- And don't deny it -you found a locket, right?"

"Why?" Mundungus' eyes shimmered. "Was it valuable?"

"You still got it?" Hermione gasped hopefully, but Ron groaned.

"No, he's worried he didn't get enough money for it."

Mundungus looked pissed-off, shaking his head in dismay. "Bleeding give it away, didn't I? There I was, flogging me wares in Diagon Alley, when some Ministry hag comes up and asks to see me license. Says she's a mind to lock me up. And would've done it too, if she hadn't taken a fancy to that locket."

Teddy took a step closer. "Who was she? The witch."

Mundungus scratched his peeling scalp, thinking and muttering at the same time. Teddy wondered why on earth Moody would ever trust someone like him. But then again, he'd wanted Mundungus at his side the night they were smuggling Harry away, so maybe he didn't.

"No, I-" His dark brown eyes suddenly landed upon something, an issue of the Daily Prophet sitting atop one of the large piles. "Well, she's there. Look! On the front page. Bleeding bow and all."

Teddy was the first to get to the paper, holding it up to his face. Arkie could see the hair rising on the back of his neck and his fist closed at his side. On it she could see the pale white scars. 'Half-breed'.

"Who is it, Teddy?" She asked. He let the paper fall on the table in front of them. Teddy's face was brittle as everyone's jaw dropped. Teddy had never liked the thought of hate, it was such an ugly word that no one should ever had to feel. Yet everyone seemed to have someone to loath. For Harry it was Voldemort, obviously.

But for Teddy, Umbridge was number one on his list of least liked figures.

He stared at the toadish woman contaminating the front page, standing between the Minister and a large Ministry worker, the large locket hanging around her flabby neck. It looked exactly like the fake, and for a moment Teddy found himself pondering ways that the locket she was wearing was another fake. "So," he grumbled, coming up with very little excuses. "What are we going to do now?"