Author's Note: Forgot one of these last time. First, I do not own nor have I ever claimed to own Harry Potter and all that comes with it. Rest assured, all of it still belongs to JK Rowling. Also, feel free to review. They let me know whether or not the story should keep being updated. Hope you enjoy!
"Christmas. I promise. It's not so far off, right?" came the young man's voice, smiling down at his girlfriend as she prepared to depart for her final year at Hogwarts. He tucked a silver-blond strand of hair behind her ears, kissing the bridge of her nose where light freckles were barely noticeable. "Besides, I'll write."
"You better…" Victoire returned to Teddy, sending him a look that plainly stated, if he didn't, he would hear about it. Oh, would he hear about it.
Shaking his head, laughing at her return, Teddy moved to kiss her properly on the mouth, only to hear a small voice not far away let out a surprised, "You're snogging?! You two?! You're actually snogging?!"
Teddy couldn't help but roll his eyes as he turned to face his godfather's oldest son, the twelve-year-old giving him and his cousin a stunned look. After a moment, however, surprise transformed into utter glee, the child's face lighting up considerably as he let out an amused, "This is perfect! Wait 'til I tell everyone!"
The older boy rolled his eyes and transformed his naturally brown hair to a bright red, matching the color flushing his cheeks as he let out an embarrassed, "Bugger off, you."
"Oh, come off it! What are you doing?" James asked, apparently completely unbothered by the fact he just ruined one of the last precious moments Teddy had with his girlfriend and their budding relationship.
Sighing, his hair returning to the same chestnut brown it had been previously, he replied with a simple, "I came to see Victoire off, alright? Now, would you go away? You should be worrying more about yourself than us at the moment." Despite the slight irritation at the interruption, his tone was light, his voice carrying the same kind nature both his parents' possessed.
As James ran off, surely to tell the rest of the family his findings, Teddy turned back to Victoire and gave her the best smile he could. Well, the best he could considering this was the first year they'd be separated since his first year at Hogwarts, when romantic ideas were far from his mind. He noticed her siblings boarding the train, both of them waving their goodbyes to their parents a few yards away and sending him a discreet wave so as not to create such a scene as James had. He nodded at them in return, barely breaking his gaze from the oldest Weasley child and her bright blue eyes.
"I better be off," she said after a long while, noticing the platform emptying of anyone school-aged and the Hogwarts Express gearing up for its departure for the long ride ahead. "Keep me up to date on your training, alright? And work on that stealth! I swear, half the time I don't know if you're clumsy or just brilliant at finding things to run into."
"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind next time I'm tangled on the floor because of an ill-placed bookshelf," he retorted, kissing her on the cheek. "Don't worry; you'll be the first to know…Well, except for Harry. He'll be the one watching me make a fool of myself. I'm sure he'll give you loads of stories to look forward to during Christmas."
"Oh, I'm sure," Victoire replied, giving him a coy look before boarding the train, finding a window to wave him goodbye as it began to move from the platform at King's Cross. Within a matter of moments, the Hogwarts Express left the station, turning a corner out of sight, leaving Teddy still waving at the traces of steam it left behind.
As he took a deep breath, both praising and cursing romance in any sense, a hand clapped his shoulder and he turned to smile at the offending person. "Heya, Harry," he said, his eyes finally torn from the sight of the long-gone train. "I take it James told you the news."
"He told everybody the news," Harry said with a light chuckle, though his voice sounded slightly heavy with the unavoidable sadness of his two oldest now gone to school. There was still Lily, though Teddy knew in a matter of years she too would be whisked away to the hallowed halls of Hogwarts, leaving her proud but saddened parents behind.
"Figured as much. I'm not going to have another awkward talk are we? I think I had enough when Arthur went so far as to plug-"
"No," came Harry quickly, shaking his head. "Just…no. One talk was enough, particularly one involving muggle lamps and dolls. You alright for dinner at our house?" he finished, sure the boy was in need of some friendly company after Victoire's difficult departure.
"Sure thing," the younger man replied as he stepped back to the muggle-laden area of King's Cross, a strange feeling rushing over him at the realization that, for the first time in eight years, he wasn't speeding toward Hogwarts but simply returning home. Though he was put off by the new leap into long-distance relationship with his girlfriend, he was also comforted by what he had in store for him. No books, detentions, curfews (whatever his gran might think…), O.W.L.s, or N.E.W.T.s. No, those were now a thing of the past and he was all too happy to let someone else tolerate them another year while he moved on to bigger things.
Prior to dinner, Teddy made the trip back home, having opted to, for the time being, stay in his old room to provide more company to his aging grandmother. He knew the woman would grow lonely during his years at Hogwarts, despite her number of friends, and the least he could do was spend a bit more time with her until he got his own life settled. The life of a training Auror was sure to be unstable enough without putting his home life on its head and trying to settle somewhere new. For now, Grandma Andromeda could help mend his wounds and hound him about the lateness of the hours he kept, which was sure to be a comfort to them both.
"Gran?" he called out upon entering the house, which was tidier than The Burrow and considerably less vertical, but no less cozy. "I'm home," he added, sending a smile to the hooting owl in the corner who greeted him warmly at his arrival.
"Hi to you too, Edmund," he laughed, moving to the cage and opening the door and petting the side of the Northern White-faced Owl's face. He had been a gift from Luna on his sixteenth birthday, fresh from one of her trips to Africa, and the two had developed an inseparable bond since. She had told him in a letter that, with the little mustache and ruffled feathers, he looked like his father. Of course, when the owl would screech reproachfully at any of Teddy's wrong-doings, the boy began to wonder just how true the statement was.
As the bird let out another hoot of approval, nibbling affectionately at his index finger, Andromeda swooped into the room and smiled brightly at her grandson. "How did it go?" she asked as he gently closed the cage door and walked over to her, the woman soon grabbing his face and kissing his cheek.
"Well enough," he shrugged, thinking back to Victoire, now far from London and moving still further away from him. "Christmas, right? There's Christmas."
"Exactly," she told him, giving him a supportive wink, her black hair now streaked with silver, still looking so like Bellatrix. That is, how Bellatrix would have looked if she were still kicking and hadn't gotten rotten along the way. His grandmother's resemblance to the dead great-aunt that killed his mother mattered little to him now, though he still wondered from time to time how two sisters could be so different.
Teddy had made the mistake once, years ago in one of his childish temper-tantrums, to throw out exactly how similar Andromeda was to Bellatrix. He still remembered, feeling ashamed whenever he looked back at that dreadful day, how his grandmother's face had gone from irritated to distraught, her dark eyes filling with tears. It had started as a silly argument that he couldn't even recall now, but that look still burned in his mind after he had said she was just like that horrible woman, all because she had snapped at him. And, rightly so, he was sure.
It was at that very moment the weight of the Battle of Hogwarts hit him, eight years old with a heavy heart and his mind slipping from anger to utter sadness. He had called his grandmother, the only blood relative he had left, the name of the woman that had ripped apart his family years before. She had killed his mother, killed his great-uncle, and had a hand in the deaths of his father, grandfather, and dozens of others. His hair had gone from red to a mousy-brown, his eyes turning to a sad gray as he lowered his defenses and tried to apologize. They had come to an understanding, then, and he remembered now as he looked into her beaming eyes how grateful he was for her continued love and support. Through everything, through all her hardships, she had raised him (with the help of the Weasleys and Potters, of course), better than he could have ever asked for.
Shaking off these memories, Teddy took a deep breath and asked, "Do you mind if I go to dinner at the Potters' tonight? I won't be long, I promise."
Andromeda couldn't help but let out a light chuckle at this. Nineteen years old and he still asked permission. Well, she supposed she should be thankful for this, as she knew many young men who would have long since given up such polite gestures. "Of course not," she assured him. "Besides, I'm sure he's got so much to tell you before you fully begin your training. An Auror! Oh, Teddy, I'm so proud!"
He laughed a bit as she said this for what seemed to be the thousandth time since he'd been accepted into the program at the start of summer, particularly when Harry had taken it upon himself to take the young wizard under his wing and train him as his own apprentice. After all, the man had helped revolutionize the Auror Office as the wizarding world had known it and now headed the whole operation, Ron Weasley at his side.
After some tea and a bit of hounding about how little he had eaten, Teddy retired to his bedroom and collapsed on the bed, taking a look around. It looked lived in, comfortable, with posters of the Weird Sisters still plastered on the walls. The room had been his mother's before his, and he hadn't the heart to take down any of her possessions. Instead, he opted to keep them as a slight homage to the woman that had died trying to give him a better life and figured it was a way to know her better. He did, however, add framed pictures around the room, hanging on walls and on his dresser and desk, of his friends and family. Despite the losses he had early in life, Teddy liked to be reminded of who he did still have around him, and those who had fought to protect him so he could live happy, content, and safe.
Looking over at the large framed photograph on his nightstand, he shifted so he was on his side facing it and gave a little smile. "Hi Mum, Dad," he said after a brief hesitation, their own smiles mirroring his, waving at him. "Said goodbye to Victoire today. Her last year, you know. Tomorrow I begin training, too. I'm a bit nervous, to tell you the truth, but Harry said I'll do alright. Still can't stop tripping over myself but he figures if you did alright, Mum, then I should be fine. It's Albus and Rose's first year at Hogwarts, as well. Bet they were nervous, but I didn't really get to see them. James spotted us, though. Snogging, can you believe it? Was a bit embarrassed when he went off to tell everyone, to be honest, but I figured it had to get out at some point. Still, when I pictured them finding out, I kind of pictured it a bit different than a twelve-year-old rushing to tattle."
Andromeda could hear the one-way conversation in the next room, as she had for years. He had chatted with his parents' photographs practically since he could talk, and she figured it was a way to have some relationship with his parents, even if they were long since gone. She couldn't blame the boy. While she knew he had plenty of family and was showered with love from numerous people, there was no real substitute for a person's parents. And, if talking to photographs helped him feel more normal, then she would let him without interruption. She knew he didn't suffer from delusions, he didn't believe he was really talking to them and showed no signs of believing they were talking back, but it gave him some connection to the parents he barely knew. The stories he heard from others, recited over and over to his delight, enabled him to know them better, and he figured this was just returning the favor.
So, while she was going to knock on the door, surely to remind him to dress appropriately instead of dashing out the last minute looking a bit of a mess, she just let him be. He had time, and this was one thing she never felt right interrupting. She thought of how much he had grown since her daughter and son-in-law's passing and the man he had become in their absence. They would be proud, she was sure.
He naturally had his father's hair and his mother's eyes, typically only choosing to change them for kicks or involuntarily during a particular heightened emotion. She had teased him several times that he wore his heart on his head, his hair giving away everything from how he was feeling to whether or not he was lying (something she strongly came to value as he hit the awkward preteen ages). His father would have been happy to know that the lycanthropy had not been passed down, though a taste for raw meat was shared between him and Bill to the disgust of the rest of the family. She laughed silently to herself as she mused how he also seemed to scratch behind his ears like a puppy, or cock his head to the side when confused.
She heard his voice die down after a while and listened as he began moving about the room, the rustling of clothes could be heard vaguely. Sure he was getting ready for the casual night ahead, she just sighed and decided to leave him alone for the night. He was an adult now, and while she still hoped he would come to her for answers and confide certain little secrets to her, she figured she ought to let him live his life without nagging him about the state of his room or the colors he would sometimes change his hair to. Putting a gentle hand to the door, she smiled a bittersweet smile before moving to her own room. He was his own man, a good one at that, and was enabled to be so because of her daughter's sacrifice. Dora would have been so proud.