Lyall Lupin lived in a little cottage on a small, forgotten road outside of the capital city of Brittany, France. He had done so for nearly as long as Teddy had been alive. With the exception of Teddy, mostly nothing in Britain was worthwhile to Lyall anymore. The majority of his living friends or family had deserted him long ago, when they heard of Remus' affliction. After his son's death, Lyall couldn't stand being in the house that he had shared with his now deceased wife and child. Every hallway was a memory, every moment felt haunting. So, he packed up his things, sold the old house, and moved back to the place he was born: Bretagne. It had been home to Lupins for decades (when Lyall was four, his family had moved to Britain—the first Lupins to do so) and so home it would become for them again.

Lyall had seen his grandson just twice. Once, soon after he was born, and a second time when the boy was five years old. Since then, he received photos and letters from the boy's only other living family member, Andromeda Tonks, but nothing more. It was painful for Lyall to go back to Britain, and the boy hadn't wanted to go to France, so he had to be content with news of his only living kin and nothing more. Lyall had been battling with the desire to see his grandson for years. As much as we wanted to meet Teddy, he wasn't sure that Teddy wanted to meet him. Lyall wasn't Remus. He wasn't half as brave or smart as the boy's father, and he thought of himself as an old, pathetic replacement for his son—why would Teddy be content meeting him?

Finally, Lyall couldn't take it any longer: he reached out to Harry Potter, Teddy's godfather, and begged him to ask Teddy to visit. He apologized that it had taken him so long, but that he loved the boy and wanted to get the chance to know him before it was too late. Harry, being the kind son of Remus' friends that he was, immediately said he would be sending Teddy to France for the summer. Lyall couldn't contain his excitement. His fingers had trembled as he read the letter Harry had sent, and he had gone and told all his fellow wizarding neighbors that his grandson—godson of the famous Harry Potter—was coming to visit. Lyall had cleaned the entire house, and put up every picture he had of Teddy so that he would feel more at home. He even put up as many photos of Remus as he could bear, including one of Remus when he had graduated from Hogwarts. The boy was smiling, Sirius Black draping over his shoulder, whispering something in his ear that Lyall wasn't sure he wanted to hear.

"He's coming today," Lyall whispered, dusting the frame. "Ton fils." The old man's fingers trembled from nerves. He had made up the guest bedroom what felt like a thousand times, trying to make it perfect. He filled the bookshelves with Remus' favorite books, bought his son's favorite cake from the bakery, and even decorated Teddy's room with as many of Remus' old things as possible, only to then remember that it was entirely possible that Teddy didn't like anything Remus had. They never met, Lyall reminded himself. You can't be disappointed if he's not your son. Still, it had been too late to change the order to anything other than German Chocolate and Lyall had nothing else any fifteen-year-old boy would want to have. So, Remus' things would have to do.

Lyall checked the clock on the wall in Teddy's room as he dusted—it was nearly noon, and his grandson would be here any moment. Lyall walked as fast as he could down the stairs and into the kitchen to set the cake out to thaw. It was rich and topped with fudge, with a swirl of red icing that read:

Bienvenue, Teddy !

The bed was made. The cake was out. All Lyall had to do was wait. Since the weather was nice, he decided to sit out on the front steps, head in his hands, listening to the birds chirp and the breeze rustle the leaves in the nearby oak tree. Minutes went by without sight of Harry and Teddy, and Lyall began to worry. Perhaps something had happened to his grandson? Equally troubling, perhaps Teddy hadn't wanted to come and see him?

At last, Lyall heard a crack and he sat up. There, clear as day, he could have sworn he saw James and Remus in the distance. Lyall smiled sadly, though, because of course James and Remus were dead. Instead, there their sons: Harry, and of course Teddy.

"Teddy!" Lyall croaked. "Mon petit, venez-ici!" Lyall slowly stood up, grinning wildly.

Meanwhile, Teddy looked at his godfather. "He knows English, right?" Teddy asked skeptically. Harry nodded.

"Yes…er, at least he writes in it…" Harry said, drifting off. "Mr. Lupin!" He called out, walking towards the house. "Uh…Salute!"

"Salute…" Teddy said softly, pretty sure that was not how you said 'hello.' He followed Harry, dragging his bag, and took in his scene for the summer. It was pretty, Remus had to admit, but the cottage itself looked like it could've been built in the middle ages. It was old and shabby, but its habitant looked younger than what Teddy was imagining. In his grandfather he saw a few similarities to himself—bright, amber eyes, as well as bushy eyebrows that never seemed to un-furrow. Definitely not the gnome-like creature he has conjured up in his head.

"I'm sorry," Lyall said sheepishly, now face to face with his guests. "I forget, you do not speak French. Perhaps I can teach you some, Teddy?" He asked kindly. Teddy simply nodded, still trying to take in what was happening.

"Thank you so much for having him, sir," Harry began. "I know he's looking forward to it—he's normally not this quiet," Harry added, a bit suspicious.

"Please, call me Lyall," the old man began. "And it is I who should be thanking you! A summer with my grandson is an absolute gift." Lyall's eyes twinkled. "Quiet simply means deep in thought—I know that look, I've seen it many times on his father. You both look remarkably like them," Lyall paused, "Your fathers, I mean. I'm sure you get that all the time." Teddy shook his head.

"Not…not often, no. I'm a Metamorphagus, like my mum was. Most people always say I look like her," Teddy explained. Lyall pursed his lips.

"Hmm…I do see a bit of your mother in you, yes. But you are without a doubt a Lupin." Lyall seemed a bit lost in thought for a moment, before he clapped his hands and continued. "Well then, let's get you inside, yes? Harry, would you like any tea before you head out?" Harry smiled politely but shook his head.

"No, sir—Lyall," he corrected, "I think I better be off. I left Ginny with the three little ones, I'm sure she'll be needing me." Harry turned to Teddy, ruffling his hair slightly. "You be good to your grandfather and be sure to write—especially for James' sake," Harry said. "We love you very much, Teddy."

"Love you too," The boy mumbled, clearly a bit embarrassed. With a wave and a hug, Harry was gone, and the two Lupin men stood outside. Teddy shifted his feet a bit awkwardly.

"Let's get that bag inside!" Lyall smiled, taking his wand from his pocket and flicking it just so. The large trunk began to float, and Teddy's eyes widened.

"Don't the…Won't the neighbors—"

"All witches and wizards," Lyall assured him. "Though, I'm afraid they don't speak much English. Come on, the offer for tea is still quite literally on the table. Chamomile alright with you?" He asked. Teddy nodded.

"Yes, please," He replied. "Thank you."

Teddy followed his grandfather into the cottage. He wasn't sure what he was expecting from the outside, but it seemed much larger once indoors. Overhead, pennants from French Quidditch teams hung above all sorts of paintings and pictures, many of which seemed to be painted by Lyall himself. A staircase led up to a second floor Teddy hadn't even seen.

"You don't think I would live in a…Oh, I'm forgetting the word…no matter, it's a spell you see. Makes the house appear smaller than it actually is. I don't like to generate much attention, this summer excluded—I told nearly everyone you were coming, so if you see any neighbors around, they might say hello," Lyall explained.

"It's brilliant," Teddy said simply, looking all over the cottage. Drab no more, he thought to himself. "So, why France?" The boy asked. Lyall chuckled darkly.

"You want the short version or the long one?" He asked. Teddy shifted a little. He sensed there was more to the move than he thought.

"The easier version," He stated. Lyall smiled.

"Ah, yes, very well…I was born in this province. Hardly remember those days, of course, but the Lupins were a French pureblood wizarding family. Family business was slow, and so my parents moved us to Britain, where we've been ever since. I decided after the war I'd like a change of scenery," Lyall said plainly, waving his wand and letting his grandson's trunk slowly drift to the floor. Teddy nodded, though his brows were furrowed.

"What family business?" He asked. Lyall raised his brows.

"No one ever told you? Well, I suppose that makes sense…Remus never liked to speak of it—and for good reason. Teddy," Lyall began, "The Lupins hunted werewolves."

"WHAT?" Teddy yelped. "No, that can't…you've got to be…"

"Joking?" Lyall asked morosely. "No, though I wish I were. Up until the move to Britain that's what everyone did. It's how I got my job in the ministry, where I said certain things I never should've said, which resulted in Remus becoming what he was. It tortured me for years. When your father found out he was livid—an adjective I used rarely to describe him. Clearly," Lyall said, in all seriousness, "It's not something I'm proud of. But we can't change the past, we can only move forward. If we Lupins can change our ways, certainly others can change their opinions, non?" Lyall asked. Teddy was still pale in shock. "I can see I've upset you," Lyall began, then his eyes widened, "You're not…"

"No," Teddy said, finding his voice. "No, I'm not a werewolf. I do get a bit cranky, though, around the full moon…but it's nothing, really." Lyall smiled.

"Well, it's something to me. I'll be sure not to disturb you—your father was the same. 99% of the time he was a mischievous but angelic boy. During that extra 1% of the time, I kept my distance—as all parents do when their child has a tantrum."

Teddy snorted. Tantrum was one way to describe it. "I knew he was worried about having a child. I guess he thought I would be more like him than he wanted," Teddy said, not quite sure where he was going with the thought. Lyall nodded.

"Yes, he was quite worried. I understood his pain as best I could—lycanthropy is something no parent wishes on their child—but having not exactly given Remus his condition, I couldn't tell him his fears were unfounded without him telling me I didn't understand. Your father was an incredibly unique case. Most werewolves remain unloved, and having a child is never even a thought in their minds," Lyall said rather sadly. Then, he smiled. "Still, it all worked out! You are happy, healthy, and a bright student if I hear correctly. I'm quite proud to be your grandfather—fier, it means proud in French."

"Fee-ay," Teddy pronounced, the word sounding strange on his lips. Lyall chuckled.

"Ah, yes! Glad to hear you are proud of me as well," He joked. Teddy smiled. His grandfather seemed quite young at heart—perhaps this summer wouldn't be too dull at all.