The final instalment of this three-parter. Warnings for language and violence.
Ted Talks: Part 3
Dromeda got to her feet first. She was slow and shaky, and had to drag herself up using the side of the armchair, which the Death Eaters had kicked over gleefully as they forced their way in.
"What are you doing?" Ted croaked. He was sprawled on the floor, blood trickling from his split lip down to his chin. His head throbbed and he felt a stabbing pain in his elbows and knuckles. He could barely believe what had just happened.
"Sending Pylon," Andromeda answered, and she whistled for their owl. Pylon had taken cover outside when the Death Eaters barged into the house, and he fluttered nervously back in through the smashed window. The barn owl glanced between Andromeda and Ted, concerned.
"It's alright, it's alright," Andromeda assured Pylon, and the reassurance in her voice made Ted want to cry, "Give me my wand, will you?"
The Death Eaters had disarmed Ted and Dromeda, and for an awful moment Ted had thought that the Death Eaters were going to snap their wands. But the intruders had tossed them aside disinterestedly. They'd come for Ted and Andromeda, not for their wands.
Pylon flew over to where Dromeda's wand had landed, picked it up in his mouth, flew back to her and dropped the wand into her outstretched hand.. Quivering, Andromeda summoned parchment and a quill and tried to start writing.
"Ted, I can't do it, my hand's trembling," she said after a couple of attempts at getting ink on the page. A fat tear rolled down from her eye.
"I'll see if I can," said Ted, attempting to push his shoulders and spine up off the carpet. His muscles protested at the movement as, wincing, he crawled over to Andromeda .
"Who are you writing to?" he asked.
"The Macmillans. We'll have to tell Dora as well, won't we? Oh Merlin it's happened, Ted, it's happened". She shoved the parchment and quill at him frustratedly, and crumpled on the floor.
You could say a lot of things about Ted Tonks' daughter, but you'd be hard-pushed to claim that she wasn't good in a crisis. An hour after Pylon had disappeared into the sky, when Ted and Dromeda had managed to haul themselves onto the sofa and were clinging onto each other tightly, Dora barged into the house yelping that this was the soonest she could get there because interrogation at the Burrow had gone on for hours. She clattered into the living room, still in the dress she'd worn to the Weasley wedding, looked at them both for a searching, painful moment, batted a tear away from her eye and said, "Right. Right. Let's get you two upstairs". She and Remus levitated Ted and Andromeda into their bed, treated their wounds and put the vandalised furniture back in order. Upon discovering that the only sleeping draught in the house was out of date, Dora had sped off into the kitchen to brew more, leaving Remus upstairs with Andromeda and Ted.
"There's a bruise coming there," said Remus, indicating Dromeda's jaw. Ted felt a surge of fury pulse through him when he remembered the Death Eater walloping his wife across the face.
"Where's the balm?" asked Dromeda, and when Ted handed her the jar, her still-quaking fingers couldn't get the lid off. "For goodness sake," she muttered impatiently.
Remus held his hand out. "Let me,"
Andromeda eyed him distrustfully, then dropped the jar into his hand. Remus unscrewed the cap and tried to hand the balm back to Ted. Ted took one look at the purple hue spreading across Dromeda's jaw, and he knew he couldn't touch it. He could still hear the sound of the smack, and his clumsy touch would probably make it hurt more. He shook his head and pushed the balm back to Remus.
"You do it,"
"I'm not letting him!" barked Andromeda .
"I can't," Ted protested faintly, "You know it'll hurt if I do it. I don't want to do it," he added, voice cracking like a frightened child's.
"What about him?" Dromeda spat, and Ted could see tears sparkling in her eyes again. She was afraid. "He'll hurt me,"
"I won't," said Remus quietly, "I've done this plenty of times on myself after..." he tailed off and said finally, "I'll be careful, Mrs Tonks".
Ted's wife looked momentarily insulted that Remus had called her by her name. Then she stared at him for another stretching, tense moment, with an expression which Ted would have identified as anger, but with fear and hurt and something unfamiliar in there too. Tears tracked their way down Andromeda's face. Finally, she exhaled, nodded, and handed over the jar. And Andromeda let her werewolf son-in-law, with his gentle, elegant fingers, spread balm across her face.
Ted slept and woke intermittently for the next couple of days. He remembered Dromeda staggering out of bed, and a drowsy conversation with Dora in which she explained that the Ministry had fallen and she wouldn't, couldn't, go back to work.
"But don't worry about that now," she'd insisted, "Me and Remus'll stay to look after you."
When Ted finally woke up properly, his cuts had scabbed over and his bones didn't feel so painful.
"We'll be fine," Dromeda told him, and Ted knew she was right.
Remus, meanwhile, had been brewing cups of tea and thanking them repeatedly for not giving the Death Eaters Harry's whereabouts.
"I'm a Black. You should know we're made of strong stuff," Andromeda told him sharply, but there was the trace of a smirk on her face when she said it. Perhaps, Ted thought, she was finally coming round to Remus Lupin. And then, the following morning, it happened. Ted and Dromeda were in bed when they heard Dora's footsteps pelt downstairs and the sound of the front door swinging open, then being slammed shut a few moments later. Footsteps scampered upstairs again and then Dora shoved open the bedroom door
"Have you seen Remus? Was he here?" she interrogated.
"No. What's happened?" asked Dromeda.
Dora took a couple of steps into the room and gripped the end of the bed. Her other hand clenched a piece of paper, crumpling the side of it.
"Nymphadora?" Andromeda prompted apprehensively.
"He's gone. Remus has gone,"
"Where? Who?" yelped Ted. The Death Eaters had come back? When? Why? Had he and Andromeda slept through it?
"I don't mean he's been taken," Dora said, and she sounded stunned and faint, "He's left,"
"Give me that," said Dromeda, holding her hand out for the paper.
Dora yanked it away. "He says our wedding was a mistake and he's realised he's got to leave for the good of me and the-"
She cut herself off and stared at the patterns on the stripey duvet cover.
"Me and the baby," she murmured, and looked up into Ted's face, "I'm pregnant,"
Ted felt his insides shrivel. No. Oh, please no.
Andromeda's voice was like ice. "What?"
Dora plopped herself down on the bed by Ted's feet. "Only a few weeks. We weren't going to say anything for a while, but-"
"We? He knows? Your husband knows about this and he's up and left in the middle of the night?" Andromeda demanded.
Dora nodded. Ted felt like everything had suddenly wilted. Oh no. Dora, you haven't…Pregnant, now? When all this was going on and she hadn't even been married a month? How were they going to afford it? How were they going to keep the child safe? The werewolf child. This would be all Christmases come at once for Bellatrix Lestrange.
"I'm sorry," Ted breathed, "Sweetheart, I'm so sorry. It'll be okay, we'll sort something out, don't worry,"
But Dora didn't look like she was worrying. She nodded sadly, thoughtfully, and folded the note into her pocket. Then she climbed into bed beside Ted, and burrowed herself under the duvet.
"I told her. I warned both of you that this would happen. I knew this is what he was like. Wanted her for five minutes, and the minute things get complicated he's out the door. Merlin forbid he has to spend any money on her or the baby," Andromeda slammed the wardrobe door shut and continued her diatribe.
"Or d'you think he wanted to get her pregnant? That's how they make more of themselves nowadays, saves the trouble of finding victims to bite, and they get to ruin a poor woman's life in the bargain. I bet he's having a right laugh with all his little friends, 'Cygnus Black's grandaughter knocked up with a bastard werewolf mongrel'. How many more ruined women and fatherless children d'you think he's got squirreled away?"
Over the last three days Ted had listened to hundreds of these rants from his wife. Dromeda seemed to accept that Dora had enough to be dealing with at the moment, so kept her tirades for when she was out of earshot, which meant that Ted had to put up with them alone. But Andromeda was right. That first morning, the only time Dora had discussed what had happened, Ted had got the impression that Remus had panicked about the pregnancy. Ted understood that- he'd been barely out his teens when Andromeda had announced that she was expecting. It wasn't planned it and it wasn't good timing, but they'd got through it together. They'd shared their joys and concerns. Running away wasn't panic- it was cowardice and selfishness or, as Dromeda suspected, pre-mediated malice. That sounded far-fetched, but they were dealing with a werewolf. Who knew what he was capable of? Ted was furious at himself for how easily fooled he'd been before. Remus Lupin would not receive the benefit of Ted's doubt again.
There were other things to worry about too. The day after Remus left, a letter arrived for Mr Edward Gabriel Tonks, asking him to present himself at the Muggle-Born Registration Commission in the next thirty days.
"Magic can only be passed on when wizards reproduce...obtained magical powers by theft...root out usurpers of magical power," Ted read out loud. He ripped the letter into quarters and tossed the pieces in the fire.
"This is bonkers," declared Dora, who had been reading over his shoulder, "How can you take magic by force?"
"You can't," Ted told her, trying to sound less aghast than he felt, "It's bollocks, it's fear-mongering. I'm not signing some bloody register. Muggle-Born Registration Commission? Fuck 'em,"
"Yeah," nodded Dora grimly, "Fuck 'em".
Andromeda had gone back to work but they all agreed it was too dangerous for Ted, at least for the next few days. The Order of the Phoenix were lying low too, so Ted and Dora were left at home with their fear.
"Well, this is boring," Dora announced halfway through the second game of chess, on the third day of staying home. The hot weather had broken and it was raining outside. They'd turned the radio off to get a break from the news and the accusations about Harry.
"Snap instead?" Ted suggested.
"That's not what I meant,"
Ted had half-expected a return to the brown hair and mopiness of before but, after that first morning's shock, Dora had adopted a grim, seethingly furious attitude to Remus' departure. In fact, she'd hardly mentioned her husband or what had happened. It was perplexing, but, Ted had to admit, better than tears.
"I know," he nodded. Dora groaned irritably, and kicked the toe of her Doc Martin into the coffee table.
"Are you okay?" asked Ted, "About, you know," he hesitated, "…Remus,"
Dora kicked the table again, harder, "No, Dad, I'm thrilled about being up the duff with no job and no husband in a world which has just been taken over by Death Eaters. Absolutely chuffed," she growled, "But I've got the baby now, haven't I? Can't be falling apart again,"
In all the madness, "pregnant" had seemed more of an unfortunate condition that something which would result in a baby in eight months' time. Ted hadn't felt any excitement about his grandchild, and only a twinge of horror that he was going to become a Grandpa in his forties.
"Yes, I'm keeping it," Dora added firmly, "I know Mum wants me to get rid of it but I'm not going to,"
"Okay, okay," Ted held his hands up. He prodded his rook forward, so that two of Dora's pawns leapt forward to scale it, and the bishop started to pray. Outside, rain spattered onto the window, and the drainpipe gurgled beside it.
"Ted! Ted!"
It was Saturday, the first Saturday of this brave new world. Ted was in the loft sorting through his record collection when Andromeda yelled up the stairs. He stuck his head down through the loft trapdoor.
"Yes? Everything alright?"
"Remus is back. He's come back just now,"
Ted's first reaction was rage. His second was elation. His third was worry. "Where's Dora?"
Dromeda came into view on the landing. She was raking a hand through her dark hair and looking baffled.
"She's gone outside with him. I told her not to but she didn't listen; she never listens when it comes to that dreadful man,"
"Did he say where he's been? Did he offer any justification for leaving his pregnant wife in the night?" Ted demanded. The least Remus could give them was answers.
"Of course not," Dromeda snapped.
"Where've they gone?"
"I don't know. She'll have to come back, she didn't take anything with her,"
"They might have gone back to their flat," Ted pointed out.
"Her flat," Andromeda corrected, "Which we put the deposit on and which he won't have contributed a knut to the rent,"
Being taken advantage of financially by an unemployed werewolf made Ted angry too, but that wasn't the pressing concern right now.
"One thing at a time," Ted told Dromeda, climbing down the loft ladder towards her, "We'll give it an hour and if we don't hear anything we'll send Pylon,"
"An hour? She's walking the streets with a werewolf! She's already been interrogated by Death Eaters and my sister's probably desperate to get her hands of them both,"
Ted put his hands on Dromeda's shoulders. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. We'll wait half an hour, then, and we'll owl her flat,"
But they only had to wait another fifteen minutes before Dora re-appeared, dripping wet on the doorstep.
"Dora, thank Merlin-"
"I'm going home," she declared.
"With Remus?" snapped Dromeda
"Yes,"
Andromeda eyed her daughter intensely. After a long pause, she said, "Nymphadora, you're a fool,"
Dora shrugged.
"Are you sure?" asked Ted.
"No, to be honest. But we need to talk and we're not going to get it done anywhere else. He's tired and hungry-"
"He deserves it," Andromeda cut across, "It's not your job to feed him and wait on him. Twice he's walked out on you when he's got cold feet, what's to stop it being three? Four? Do you want your child to spend its life asking if Daddy's going to come back this time?"
"I'd prefer to give it a chance to have its dad around all the time. I'm not falling into his arms if that's what you think this is. I haven't forgiven him and I might not, and if I do I'm still going to tear him a new one,"
"Good," said Ted, "Tear him a third from me,"
Dora smirked. "I'll see you later," she promised, "Thanks for looking after me these last few days,"
"It was you looking after us," Ted pointed out.
She shrugged, "Whichever. See you soon. Bye,"
"Nymphadora-"
"Mum. Bye," she said firmly. Then she hopped down the steps and walked away down the path, clanging the gate shut behind her.
Ted and Dromeda looked at each other.
"That wastrel is going to be the death of her," Andromeda hissed.
Ted put a hand on her shoulder again. "Unless you murder him first".
August wore on. More letters came for Ted, inviting, then asking, then insisting that he report to the Muggle-Born Registration Commission. Anti-Muggle-born propaganda started appearing plastered on street corners and taking up full-page adverts in the Prophet. The Macmillan's Muggle-born housekeeper disappeared on her way home one evening. There was no way to pretend that the situation was anything other than frighteningly serious.
Bored of unemployment, Dora began applying for jobs. It was best to lie low so they were all low-paid jobs far below her ability level, which made Andromeda cross.
"It's only until the Winter," Dora insisted when she and Remus came over for dinner at the end of her first week working in a potion-bottle factory, "Or until the bump starts showing. I don't want to have to start explaining things to people,"
"And what about you?" Andromeda asked witheringly, turning to Remus, "Are you going to provide for your child?"
In the weeks since he'd come back, Remus had endlessly apologised and explained why he'd left. He'd pled fear, shame, discombobulation, a misguided attempt to do the right thing. He'd hung his head, looking small and ashamed, and like an old man and a child at the same time. Remembering what he'd vowed about not giving Remus the benefit of the doubt, Ted had tried not to let his son-in-law's shame stir sympathy in him.
"I understand if you won't forgive me," Remus had said. Ted wasn't sure if he did. Andromeda definitely hadn't. Remus' return seemed to have made her more suspicious of him than his departure had, and she'd probed him with questions. Dora, who refused to discuss what had happened, had told her to drop it, and she'd made sure not to leave Remus alone in a Dromeda since. When it was Ted, Remus and Andromeda alone together (which had only happened a couple of times when Dora had gone to the toilet), Dromeda bridled, ready to attack, and Ted had had to talk loudly about the weather as a diversion.
"I've sent in some applications. Muggle jobs," Remus said timidly.
"Remus knows loads about Muggle jobs," piped up Dora, "He's really good with computers,"
"Oh, yes?" said Ted, to keep the conversation going. He'd used a computer a few times and new the basics.
"A bit," Remus shrugged.
"Arthur can't get enough of asking him about it," said Dora proudly, "D'you know he's got four TVs in his garage? And a photocopier,"
She was trying to make them laugh, but it didn't really work.
Later, sheltering from the rain under a beech tree with Dean by his side, Ted would reflect of the things he should have said to Remus when they bid goodbye. It had become clear that Ted would have to leave for good, and no amount of reassurance or pleading would change his mind. Despite Dromeda's protests, Dora and Remus had promised to stay with her once Ted had gone, so the three of them had been there when Ted left on that grey Thursday morning. Ted should have warned Remus not to leave again. He should have told him to be brave. He should have told Remus to look after Dora and Dromeda, and that they'd look after him in return. Ted should have told him to stay safe and to stop Dora diving into any duels while she was pregnant. He should have asked Remus how likely it was that the child would be werewolf. He should have warned him how unpleasant Dromeda's labour had been, so Remus was warned about how endless and distressing it was and how useless it felt to be a man during it. Ted should have warmed Remus to stay on his toes now that he wasn't there as a buffer between Remus and Andromeda. He should have added that Dromeda had old-fashioned views about raising children which were best ignored. He should have told him that, just about, Ted thought he was a decent bloke. But in the moment Ted's thoughts had been with the wife and daughter he was about to say goodbye to, not the son-in-law he'd only met two months ago. So Ted merely shook his hand and let Remus wish him good luck.
"You're in seventh year, aren't you, Dean?"
"If I was still at school. At least I'm missing my exams, eh?" the boy grinned. They were walking across a muddy field in Northumberland, searching aimlessly for somewhere to sleep tonight.
"Yeah," Ted agreed, then returned to the subject, "So you were taught by Remus Lupin?"
Dean nodded. "In third year,"
"Did you like him?"
"Course. Probably out best Defence teacher. I remember our first lesson, he made Snape appear in a dress. He was really safe about me being dyslexic, never marked me down for my spelling. He's a good guy,"
Ted looked at him. "You know he's a werewolf?"
"Oh, yeah. Forgot about that," said Dean. He had a habit of stretching out his vowels with an upward inflection. "Seamus was freaked out about it, but I didn't know werewolves are supposed to be savage and all that. Normally I mean, obviously they're savage when they transform. But Professor Lupin seemed alright to me. D'you know him?" Dean asked.
They were approaching the fence. Dean would be able to climb over but Ted would have to apparate to the other side. "I do,"
"How?"
"He's a relative,"
"Woah. You're not a werewolf too?" grinned Dean. He was a nice boy. Jokey and smiley. He spoke his mind, and didn't seem especially traumatised about everything that was going on.
"No, we're not blood relatives," Ted explained.
"You mean he's married?"
"Yeah," Ted confirmed. He was going to keep the next part of the sentence in his head, but he heard himself say it out loud, "He's married to my daughter,"
"No way!" gasped Dean, stopping in his tracks to face Ted, "That's cool,"
"D'you reckon?"
"He's a cool guy,"
Ted was surprised by this unexpected praise. "That's very nice of you to say, Dean,"
"If we ever get out of this mess, you can tell him I said that".
"I've been thinking about names again," Remus said over breakfast one morning. It was the middle of March and the weather was just starting to perk up. His wife was bored of being so heavily pregnant, although the baby wasn't due for another few weeks.
"Right," said Tonks.
"If it's a boy, what if we named him after your dad?" Remus suggested, then added, "Though I'll understand if you don't want to,"
The idea had been brewing in Remus' head for a few weeks, but he was slightly nervous about voicing it out loud.
Tonks put her spoon down and smiled at him, touched. "Oh, Remus. That's lovely,"
"Really?"
He hadn't been sure what she'd say.
"Yeah. Would have made him dead proud,"
"We'll have to see what your mum says too," he added. Perhaps Anromeda would think it was too soon, or that they were trying to replace her husband.
"Okay," Tonks agreed, "But I like it. Ted Lupin. Teddy, maybe,"
"Yes," said Remus, thinking of his father-in-law. How Ted had repeatedly deflected Andromeda's hostility away from him even when he didn't deserve it. How Tonks had told him that her dad trusted her to know what she was doing. How Ted hadn't once asked him any lurid, probing questions about being a werewolf. How they'd shared a Firewhiskey on the morning of the wedding.
"Yes," Remus said again, "Teddy".
Thanks for reading this three-parter. If you have any comments, corrections, complements or criticisms, please let me know in the reviews. Thank you.
