This is a deleted scene from my Remadora WiP, Pluto. Nobody liked this chapter and it's important to take feedback on board, so I deleted it from Pluto. But it's also important to do what you want, and I like this chapter and I think it's important. So I'm posting it here as a standalone.
WARNING for this chapter: M-rated. Contains angst, swearing, mental health problems and self-injury. This chapter explores trauma and domestic violence, including discussion of physical abuse of women and infants.
Get the fuck away from me, don't touch me,
I hate you, I hate you,
I swear to God, I hate you-
Oh my God, I love you.
How the fuck could you do this to me?
How the fuck could you do this to me?
- Eminem, Kim.
The Bads
Madeleine Andromeda Lupin. She was born in the second week of September, just as the first leaves started to turn golden. At not quite seven pounds, she was a small newborn, but strong and healthy. Her light brown hair hasn't changed colour since her birth, so the general consensus is that Madeleine isn't a Metamorphmagus. She doesn't seem to look much Veela either, and Vic isn't the disappointed by that. Sometimes looking the way Victoire does is more of a burden than a blessing. Madeleine is someone new and different, and Vic's pleased that her daughter will look like her own person.
It's coming up to Halloween now, and life is settling down after six weeks of hectic activity. Grand-mère and Grand-père have visited with Tatie Gabrielle and her family, and Vic's French cousins and second-cousins. The Delacours love a holiday, and after thirty years they've even stopped complaining about how grey and rainy England is. Plus, there's been a revolving door of Papa's family turning up with presents and meals and guidance (James and Lucy were particularly keen to come over when Vic's Veela relative were round, too). There's fewer people on Teddy's side, but some of his mum's friends have been over, as well as the various Lupin relatives who Andromeda hates because they only show up when they want to, not when they're needed. Andromeda herself pops in every couple of days, although she's been quieter than usual over the last few weeks. Vic suspects that becoming great-granny is a shock. Plus, Vic and Teddy have plenty of schoolfriends and colleagues who've wanted to meet the baby and supply their own gifts and tips. Vic know she's lucky to have so much support and interest, but having all those guests has been exhausting. She hadn't enjoyed sitting there breast-feeding in front of Grand-mère and Grand-père, and sometimes everybody's advice had been overwhelming. Vic's relieved that by now, the excitement of first-time-seeing-the-baby visits is over, at least until the Christmas holidays. Teddy went back to work at St Mungo's last week too. Vic's enjoyed the first week of being at home all day with Madeleine, although Auntie Angelina says that it gets boring after a fortnight or so. Victoire and Teddy agreed that Vic will have until Christmas off work, and then they'll work out what their long-term arrangement's going to be.
Plus, there's been the small matter of having grown a new human, pushed it into life, and now to suddenly be responsible for her for the next eleven years. The last few weeks have been so busy that part of Vic can't remember what life was like before Madeleine- but she's equally sure that life without Madeleine was yesterday, not six whole weeks ago. And sometimes Vic suspects that there was no life before Madeleine, or at least it that was all some sort of dream. Auntie Audrey says that when she looks back on it now, having a newborn seems like a dream. Vic's dreams, though, have never featured this many damp cloths and cracked nipples. Most surfaces in the house are now smeared with dribble, snot or some other bodily fluid. Vic's body still aches from the pregnancy and birth, and the pinching suckle of Madeleine's mouth during breast-feeding only adds to the soreness. Victoire's always liked her sleep, and it transpires that no preparation is enough for how little of it she's getting now the baby's here. Teddy does Madeleine's night-time nappy-changes and soothing and blanket-swaddling, but mostly their daughter wakes up to be fed, and for Vic that means at least half an hour of cuddle-wrestling with the baby and forcing herself to stay awake until Madeleine's finished. Vic's got two grandmothers and four aunties, and none of them ever told her how boring having a newborn can be.
One thing all of them told her is how incredible becoming a parent is, and how a tiny, sleepless, stress-inducing human can seem the most glorious person in the world. Once Vic's managed to get the baby in a good position to feed, or when Teddy's holding Madeleine and chattering to her while the baby falls asleep, Vic is sure that she could watch their daughter forever. Just observe Madeleine's face and arms and toes, marvelling that this creature grew inside her and that she and Teddy made something so precious. And when the three of them cwtch up together on the sofa, Vic wonders how she ever believed that she knew what beauty was before this.
The odd thing now, though, is that Madeleine Andromeda Lupin is whining, and from what Victoire can hear, the noise is coming from the floor outside the bedroom. Vic sits up, pushes her flowing blonde hair away from her face and glances around. It's night, but it could be any time between nine in the evening and five AM ( recently, Vic's lost some sense of how actual hours and days work). Madeleine wakes up at least three times every night- this last time was because she had a dirty nappy, and Teddy took her to the bathroom to change it. He isn't back yet and the cot's still empty, but Vic's sure that the sound of Madeleine's mewling is coming from right outside the door.
"Teddy?" she calls, "Sweetheart?"
No answer. Vic's starting to consider the possibility that she's over-tired and imagining the sound, when there's a crash from downstairs. She jolts fully awake. Suddenly, Vic knows exactly what's going on. Her first thought is: Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later. But that doesn't make it easier. It never gets easier.
Her heart-rate picks up; she's always nervous and full of dread. Embarrassed, too, for what she's about to see, and guilty about what she knows she'll have to do. And tired. Merlin, she's knackered. She's been up feeding twice already- she barely has the energy to deal with this as well. But what's happening downstairs isn't opt-out. She doesn't have time to feel shattered or upset- not just because of Teddy- because of Madeleine now too. It'll be different this time, because of Madeleine, although Vic has no idea if that's for better or worse. She slips out of bed, pulls her dressing gown on (she's found that it's easier for breast-feeding to sleep naked), glances at the corkboard opposite the bed, picks up her wand and opens the bedroom door. And there's Madeleine, wriggling on the floor.
Vic drops to her knees. "Hi, mamour. What are you doing there?" she coos, "Are you cold? Let's get you back to bed,"
There's another bang from downstairs, and a strained grunt. Vic winces. One minute, she promises in her head, give me one minute to put the baby in her cot, and then I'll be there, okay sweetie? I'm coming. She ducks back into the bedroom, jigs Madeleine up and down a couple of times in an attempt to calm her, then lies her back down in the cradle. Madeleine whines.
"Shush. Shush-shush-shush," Vic chunters, "Papa's a bit poorly downstairs, so will you be a good girl for me and be quiet? Shush-shush-shush-shush-shush,"
She knows she needs to get to Teddy as soon as possible, so she doesn't have time to properly settle Madeleine. A potentially-tantrumming six-week-old is the least of Victoire's problems right now. She lights her wand and hurries downstairs, hearing the ruckus getting louder as she descends. Vic isn't religious, although she often finds herself praying to no-one in particular at times like this: Please don't let this one be a big one. Please don't let him injure himself. Please help me get through this. Even after all this time, there's a niggling suggestion that she won't be able to cope. There's an extra lump of nerves this time, because this is the first time it's happened since Madeleine was born. It might even be the first since Vic got pregnant (Teddy keeps a diary of when they happen, which Vic now realises she should have looked over at some point over the last six weeks to prepare for this inevitability. But she'd been too busy with the baby to check). This is uncharted territory.
Noticing that the door from the kitchen to the living room is flung open, Vic allows herself a moment to compose herself. Then she steps into the room. The sideboard has been knocked over; its drawers are open so the pens and paper have split out onto the floor. The sofa's upended and there's two holes in the plaster of the wall. And in the middle of it all is Teddy, hair burning scarlet, kneeling on the floor as he rips one of the sofa cushions apart.
Vic needs a moment to take it all in. Please give me strength I need to deal with this. Please help me. Please help him.
Then she says, "What the fuck are you doing?"
Teddy ignores her, shoves his fist into the cushion and yanks out a lump of stuffing, chucks it across the room and tears at the cushion with his teeth.
"What the hell is this?" Vic demands. It's a rhetorical question. Vic knows what it is. This is a Bad.
A line of saliva flicks out of Teddy's mouth as his teeth rip at the corduroy. He makes a screeching noise in his throat, tosses the cushion aside and starts clawing at the side of the upturned sofa. He has to keep his fingernails short for work, so the fabric doesn't tear. Frustratedly, Teddy rams his shoulder against the couch.
Between them, the people in Teddy's life have come up with a vague pattern for how to handle a Bad, or at least a bunch of ideas. Step One is to make a decision about how to play the situation. Since Teddy either hasn't noticed Vic or is ignoring her, she needs to get his attention first. Silently, Vic crosses in front of him to sit down on the armchair, which has managed to avoid being thrown over.
"I'm staying here," Vic says, trying to use a sing-songy voice. Being silly like that sometimes works, especially as it allows her to snap at him in a moment's time- throwing different tones at Teddy can also catch him off-guard. If she can get his attention she can make him distract him from fury and agony and destruction.
"Fuck off!" Teddy roars.
"Why did I find our baby left on the floor like a pile of washing?" Vic throws back. The Madeleine Card is a new one in her hand- she can use it as another curveball.
Teddy whips round to face Vic, and she can see that there's a scratch down the side of his face. She hopes that it's from the zip on the cushion and not because he's been clawing at his own face. One of the only parts of a Bad which anybody has managed to change, is that for the last few years Teddy hasn't intentionally damaged himself. However, he still ends up scratched and bruised from where he's been kicking furniture or hurling himself on the floor. Now he's looking at her, Vic can see that Teddy's eyes are red from crying. They are also full of hatred.
"What was I meant to do?" he demands. He groans as if injured, then repeats, "Just fuck off,"
I wish I could, Vic answers in her mind, I wish I was anywhere apart from here, with you, doing this. The good news is that she seems to have got his attention. One of Andromeda's tricks is to say something which will surprise or perplex Teddy- if he's thinking about being shocked then he isn't thinking about the fury burning inside his poor, broken heart.
"Are you drunk?" Vic asks, again trying to sound conversational.
"No!"
"Did you take a potion at work?"
He's a Healer at St Mungo's, so (if he didn't keep losing his cupboard keys) has access to all sorts of potions and medications which could, Vic guesses, get him into a state like this. Teddy would never dream of stealing from work, and Vic knows full well that this is a Bad and not a drug-addled frenzy. She hopes the accusation jars him, but it doesn't work.
"No!" Teddy repeats, leaping to his feet and smashing his fist into the wall. It's only plaster and his fist punches through. With a grunt, Teddy pulls his hand out and swings again. Victoire notes that the front of his pyjama bottoms are tented- that happens occasionally during a Bad, not because he's aroused but because his body's trying to do something with the blood pounding around inside.
Shocking him doesn't seem to be working, so Vic tries a different tack. She swishes her wand to make the chunks of plaster fly back into place to reform the wall. Teddy snarls in vexation and hurls another punch.
"Keep going, sweetie, I've got all night," Vic sighs, pretending to be bored.
"So can I!"
"Okay, good for you. That's not remotely stupid or pathetic,"
He isn't listening anymore, because he raves: "Hate them, hate them, hate them. Beyond fucking selfish, wanted an Order of fucking Merlin and thought that was more important than their son. He told her to stay with Granny, he specifically told her to stay and look after me but she didn't, she knew Bellatrix Lestrange wanted her dead and she went anyway," he pauses for breath, catches sight of Vic, and explodes again, "Why are you here but she isn't? I hate you all!"
Ginny reckons it's good when he starts rambling like this, because it means there's a part of him that's remained rational enough to form sentences. Vic sees Ginny's point, but what Teddy says is always so horrible. Nothing in that rant was a surprise- Bads usually feature Teddy screaming that he hates his parents, which usually escalates into him screaming that he hates everybody.
The next knack is to say something to hurt him, to cause him enough anguish from the outside to take him out of the anguish he's feeling inside. She needs to be spiteful and pretend her heart isn't breaking for him. Vic's a good actress- you have to be when you're born this beautiful- which comes in useful during a Bad. Except now, when she tries to summon her cold, disdainful expression, it won't come. Vic's good at manipulating her face even without a mirror, and she knows that now the mask isn't sticking. She senses tears welling up in her eyes and realises that she can't stop them. Maman warned her about how having a new baby makes you vulnerable. Vic's been feeling more sensitive and raw the last few weeks, but now vulnerability has hit her like a bus. Panic sets in a second later: she can't deal with this. She's can't cope. Teddy's going to seriously injure himself because she can't look after him. Having a baby has left Vic unable to help him during a Bad, as well as making Bads worse for Te-
Teddy. Teddy, Vic realises abruptly, is also feeling more sensitive because of the baby, and she can prey on that. She is the one who knows her own mind at the moment, so however wobbly she feels, she'll do better than Teddy. He's hardly been in a better position to jolt back into sense. Guilt prickles inside Vic when she takes advantage of him like this, but she's witnessed enough Bads to know that's a necessary concession. He told her he hated her, and Vic knows that hearing that said back to him will be like a slap in the face.
"I know you hate me," she murmurs and then, seeing him raise his fist to the wall again, adds, "You're going to hurt me,"
Teddy wheels round, fist clenched above his shoulder. "Shut up,"
Vic pitches her voice up to a higher octave as the tears spill harder down her face.
"You're going to take it out on me, aren't you?" she whispers, "You're going to beat me. I always knew you would one day,"
She can hardly believe that she's saying this to him. In all the time she's known Teddy, Vic has never been afraid of him. He'll never hurt her, ever. Teddy freezes, aghast, and inamongst guilt and disgust at herself that she's suggesting this to him, Vic feels a kick of victory. However momentarily, she's made him stop.
The Madeleine Card is at the top of the pile again. Vic's still crying- genuinely, no acting required- as she makes herself play it. She stands up from the armchair.
"Just stay away from Madeleine, alright? You can do what you want to me- kick me, knock me to the floor, hit me- just promise that you won't touch her,"
"Stop it, stop it, stop it!" Teddy squeals, voice cracking like a child's, as he backs away from her, "I put her on the floor so I wouldn't fucking snap her in half, okay? Is that what you want me to say? That I wanted to smash my daughter's head in? I hated her, I wanted to hurt her and hurt her. I wanna hurt you too, I told you to fuck off but you're still fucking here and it's taking everything I fucking have not to batter you!"
He throws himself onto the carpet and starts pounding it furiously. When he's on the floor it usually means that he's getting to the end, although Vic doesn't feel another kick of success at that. Teddy's words thud round her head: It's taking everything I have not to batter you. She knew that telling him he was going to beat her would upset him, because he wouldn't do it. But he wants to, Vic thinks, reeling, he told you he wants to, and he wants to attack the baby too. Vic's always known that Bads are violent and vicious, but Teddy's never told her that he wants to abuse her. She never knew he had that inside him. It's as shocking as if Teddy had just said he's furious enough to turn into a tortoise. She never knew he had that inside him. But he wouldn't hurt you, Vic tells herself, he'd never… he has never. It's not that he couldn't, but that he hasn't. He didn't hurt her or Madeleine because he chose not to.
Victoire bats the tears from her eyes and takes a couple of steps towards where Teddy's flailing on the floor. "Ted, listen," she orders, surprised at how authoritative her voice sounds, "You're controlling it. You controlled it long enough to put her down. Yeah? You can control it enough not to hit me,"
Vic hates hat that sentence has just come out of her mouth. "So you can control it enough to make it let go of you," she promises him.
"I can't! They took all the control when they went away to die!" Teddy sobs, then yells, "I was younger than Maddy! I was a month old and left me to go and die!"
He writhes, and for a ridiculous moment it looks as if he's trying to hump the floor. Then he bangs his elbows down hard, seething in pain and wrath.
"You're in control," Vic promises in a low voice, "You own it, you've got the power over it. You can make it stop,"
"I was Maddy and I was Dad and I," he gasps, "I…I can't, I…."
Teddy's body spasms hard, making an unpleasant thud as his limbs and skull thump the floor. Then he suddenly goes limp, and flops onto the carpet. And Vic knows it's let him go.
Bads always end underwhelmingly like this. Well, not end- it isn't over yet. Vic allows herself to close her eyes as she counts to ten, then twenty, wiping the tears from her face. She can hear Teddy's breath coming fast and unsteady as he gulps in air. When she opens her eyes he hasn't moved. Good. He needs to be still for a while. They both do. Teddy's face is pressed into the carpet, hair fading from red to dark burgundy. His body's twisted round and his t-shirt's ridden up, so Vic can see the tattoo he's got above his waistband, between his hip and his bellybutton. It's a television set- TV, their initials. Teddy got it done a couple of years ago, and Vic had been partly amused, partly befuddled, and partly incredibly touched. She likes to spend extra time kissing it whenever she licks her way down Teddy's body. He sometimes says that she should get a map of Vermont tattooed- VT, to match.
Vic waits a few moments more, then creeps over to where Teddy is sprawled. She gets close, but not close enough to touch. It's best not to touch him until he asks, or shows that it's okay.
"Done?" she asks softly, kneeling beside him.
Teddy moans. "Yeah,"
"Do you want me to get someone?" Victoire whispers, "Do you want to me to get Ginny?"
"No,"
"Okay, then," says Vic, and she waits.
Teddy started calling them Bads after the official first Bad, when he was eight or nine and trashed the Potter's kitchen and threw up on Ginny in the garden. Teddy had almost certainly had Bads before then, but that was the first time he'd understood that the loss of control came out of being overwhelmed by fury and fear and guilt and grief and bewilderment, because his parents chose to leave him at his Granny's while they went away to die. Bads usually involved Teddy breaking objects or furniture, and often he'd end up unintentionally damaging himself too. He summed it up in the single word, "Bad" and the term, childish-sounding now, had stuck.
Bads were fairly common for a while after that first one- for about a year after he'd have a Bad every couple of months. His Granny, who had to deal with most of the Bads, tried to work out how to deal with them. Sometimes she made mistakes, like the time she locked Teddy in his bedroom during a Bad. He'd got bruises from ramming his body into the door to try and open it, and his untrained magic was strong enough to smash the windows, so he'd accidentally cut himself on broken glass. But sometimes Andromeda had good ideas- she worked out the trick of saying stuff which would shock him. She hadn't enjoyed doing that to a nine-year-old, but it helped to get through to him when he was too frenzied to listen.
Ginny, who had always been Teddy's special friend, helped too. She was the best at working out when a Bad was going to happen, and trying to talk Teddy down from it. Or, when he was Badding she'd fire questions at him, which is a trick Vic sometimes uses now. Harry found the Bads too difficult to watch.
Teddy knew he'd be a bit of a tourist attraction when he started Hogwarts, and he knew that anybody knowing about the Bads would make it worse. He didn't like talking or thinking about them. He tried to be kind and helpful, and ladies in shops or on the bus sometimes remarked on what a nice little chap he was. He worked hard at reading and writing and maths, he helped to look after all the little Potters and Weasleys when he visited, he tried to do as Granny told him. Teddy liked being a good boy. It was as if the child who screamed and swore and smashed was another little boy- not him. Usually only Ginny could persuade Teddy to talk about what Bads felt like. A few months before he started school, Granny insisted that Teddy's teachers had to know about the Bads so that he didn't get in trouble. She wrote to the headmistresses, and Harry wrote to Hagrid. In Teddy's first week, the gamekeeper, who Teddy knew a bit already, showed him the secluded parts of the Hogwarts grounds.
"An' when yeh think you're having one of yeh funny turns, yeh run down to me and we'll go to one of the spots were no-one can see, an' I'll look after yeh while yeh gets it out of yeh system," Hagrid promised.
As it happened, however, Teddy didn't have many Bads at school. They died down for the first couple of years- there was so much to get used to that Teddy didn't have time to get so enraged or outraged. Andromeda and Harry suspected that, as third year rolled around, the added pressure of new subjects, the increased importance of schoolwork, and the fact that Teddy was a teenager now, might mean Bads started happening more frequently again. It was difficult to pinpoint causes of a Bad- occasionally it was being around babies and parents, although most of the time Teddy loved babies, so it was impossible to know if a Bad was about to occur. Bads didn't seem to be connected to other times he got angry, either. Teddy could be cross about homework, or losing his hat, or the Ballycastle Bats losing at Quidditch, without it leading into a Bad. And a Bad never happened when he was talking to someone about his parents, or looking at photos, or going through the boxes of mementoes his Granny kept.
Harry and Andromeda were right that Bads got worse as Teddy got older. Hagrid let him tear up the grass and kick at the trees and hit him- a scrawny fifteen-year-old's shoes and fists didn't harm a half-giant. And when it was over Hagrid would take Teddy back to his hut for a cup of tea and a plate of rock-cakes.
Once he finished school, Teddy studied to be a Healer. The Bads continued every few months throughout his training, but nobody disagreed when Teddy moved out into a flat in West London. There was an unspoken agreement that he'd come home when a Bad happened- he could sense by then when they were about to start.
Vic found this all out retrospectively when she and Teddy first got serious. Their teenage years had featured plenty of stolen snogs and dalliances in empty classrooms, but it took until nearly a year after Vic had left Hogwarts for them both to admit that they both wanted more than a laugh and a quick shag with someone safe and familiar. Vic had just turned nineteen. A few months into their relationship, they'd been out to dinner and were walking back along the river, hand-in-hand. Teddy had gone quiet, which wasn't unusual, but Victoire could tell that he was tense. Eventually, he muttered that he had to talk to her. They kept walking and Teddy looked straight ahead as he explained that sometimes he got "attacks" of fury, and they were usually unpleasant and destructive.
"It's not often," he'd promised, "Every few months or so, and I don't harm people. I haven't harmed anybody since I was a kid,"
"Oh," Victoire had said, nonplussed.
"I reckon it's- well, it can be pretty scary, so if it ever happens when I'm with you, you need to get Granny or Ginny. Tell them it's a Bad and they'll understand,"
"A Bad?"
"That's what I call them. Dunno why," he muttered.
"Oh," Vic repeated, "Okay then,"
"I promise I'm not crazy," Teddy blurted, "I'm not sick. It's just something that happens to me,"
Teddy took a couple of steps ahead before realising that Vic had stopped walking. When he did, he turned to face her.
"Vic?" he asked softly, "Is that okay?"
Vic looked at him, shirt buttoned up to his collar, tiny tattoo of a clock just about visible on his neck, blue hair splaying out from under his flat cap. All she could think was that however horrible the thing Teddy had just told her about was, she wanted to go through it with him. She wanted to go through everything with him, and she knew she could get through any horrible situation if he was there too.
The words came out of Victoire's mouth before she could stop them: "I think I'm in love with you".
That was ten years ago now. Vic estimates she's witnessed about fifteen Bads, some of them alone with Teddy and sometimes with other people present. The latter are much easier to deal with, especially if that person has witnessed a Bad before. One person can keep talking to him and the other can do damage control.
Vic's lost her youthful naivety about going through a bad with Teddy and finding out what it's like. Now it's a question of getting Teddy out the other side and hoping he doesn't seriously injure himself or cause any permanent damage to the house. The reason Bads are difficult to witness and deal with is because they're so out-of-character. Andromeda is sharp and authoritative, and Victoire is confident and fiery. Teddy is calm- that's what makes him good at his job. He's measured and patient, placid and introspective. Get him talking about books or music and he can rabbit on for ages, but usually he's a reserved person. When he's annoyed he gets huffy or wanders away- he rarely snaps or raises his voice. Since they were kids he's been telling Vic to chill out, take a breather, "Put it into perspective, sweetie, it isn't a big deal". Being an only child means Teddy he doesn't really understand how arguing works, so when he and Vic have a serious disagreement he's rational and constructive, often infuriatingly so. Occasionally, when they're out together in Diagon Alley, somebody will howl at them, or barge past hissing, "Mr and Mrs Mongrel". Vic's always ready to kick off at that, but Teddy puts a hand on her wrist and tells her to shush because it's only some yobbo showing off or trying to get a rise out of them. Teddy insists that to retaliate will give the idiot who did it more satisfaction when they see that they've got the Veela bird get riled up. He's right, of course- Teddy's annoyingly right about lots of stuff. That's one of the reasons the wrongness of a Bad hurts so much. What hurts too is the knowledge that there will be no end point to this, no moment when he is cured. What Teddy feels cannot be cured.
Back on the living room floor, Teddy is gingerly pushing himself up. Vic moves a couple of paces away, giving him space as he eases himself into a kneeling and then a sitting position, then slumps against the wall.
"Headache," he murmurs, eyes closed.
"That's okay," promises Vic.
"Bads more bad now," he rasps.
"Let's not discuss that now. Come on, keep breathing,"
"C's of Maddy,"
"We'll talk about it later, now you just need to breathe," Vic tells him softly. His face is wet- partly tears, partly sweat, partly saliva. He's trembling all over, and he clasps his hands together between his knees. Their relationship is of equals, so Vic hates pitying for him. Teddy's never wanted pity about being orphaned (even if he had, Andromeda made sure that he didn't go looking for sympathy), and has rarely needed it either. For the most part he's good at handling loss, and has as much of a relationship as he can with his dead parents. He's written the most beautiful letters to them, and poems, and pages of his thoughts on love and grief. He draws how he feels, and he used to sometimes shut himself away with his guitar for a couple of hours to compose with a tune which, he'd explain, "Sort of reminds me of Dad". He's made thirty-one years of living with the loss, so it's a part of him now- in some ways being a war orphan is just another fact about his life. Teddy likes talking about his parents, although he's uncomfortable if he believes he's receiving too much pity for it. But the sight in front of Victoire now is achingly pitiable.
Eventually, Teddy breathes, "Drink,"
Andromeda is a stickler for manners, so Teddy is very polite, far more polite than any Wealsey in history has ever been. Except for after a Bad, when he mumbles single words for what he needs. Victoire conjures a glass of water for him and he downs it, then holds it out again for her to refill.
"I'm sorry, Vic," he pants, after the fourth glass.
"I know,"
His eyes open and stare into hers. "I didn't harm her," he promises.
"Of course you didn't,"
"I wouldn't hurt you, either. Did you mean it when you said I would?" he pleads.
"No. I know you'd never do that," she assures him, "I was trying to make you let go of it. Did you manage to let go of it? Or did it just end?""
Teddy stares at the ground. "Dunno,"
Then his eyes flick back up to hears and he repeats urgently, "Did you mean it when you said I'd hurt you? If you've ever thought, if I've made you scared about- of anything, then-"
He cuts himself off again, realising that he doesn't know what he'll do it he's ever made her fear for her safety.
"Never," Vic says in a low voice, "I've never felt that with you,"
He sighs, shuts his eyes again, and holds his hands out for her. Vic crawls towards him, puts one of her hands into Teddy's clammy one, and her other arm around his shoulder. Teddy leans into her, making a choking sound as if holding back tears.
"It's alright," Victoire whispers in his ear, "You can cry if you want to,"
"Don't want to,"
"Okay, then. I'm right here," she tells him.
Teddy groans again; a long, anguished sound. Then he repeats, "I'm sorry,"
He does this a lot after a Bad: I'm sorry, I wish I wasn't like this, I didn't mean to upset you, I'm so sorry. He never tells her he loves her afterwards, and Victoire reckons that he doesn't love her at these moments.
"I'm sorry too," Vic promises.
"Why?"
"I'm sorry you feel like this,"
He's still trembling. "Yeah,"
Another pregnant pause. Then he croaks, "I was changing her nappy. She was kicking her legs and waving. Shit, she's so cute,"
"Listen, you can explain later,"
"Now. I wanna tell you now," Teddy insists.
"I don't want you to wear yourself out," Vic hazards. She doesn't want him to relive what's just happened.
"I wanna tell you now,"
Vic moves her hand round to hold his head and make him look at her. "Fine. But take it slow, okay? Calm,"
Teddy nods solemnly. Then he explains: "She's perfect, Vic. Our baby is perfect. I was taking her back to bed and it thumped into my head- my Dad wasn't here for this. We talked about how I'd feel that way, didn't we?"
He's right- for months they've been talking about how having his own baby might affect him, and he's told her over the last few weeks when he's thinking about his parents.
"It felt like I was Dad. And, I –it's what I've never understood, isn't it, how they could leave me. How could they leave me?"
The Bads usually centre around this question, and questions like it: How could they? Why did they? I don't understand, I don't understand. Harry says he told Dad that parents should never leave their kids. I don't understand how they could choose the war over me. Why did they do it? How could they do that to me? Four years ago, after a busy few months at work for them both, Vic booked a hotel by the coast in Frinton for a dirty weekend. They'd been excited to get away from normal life and have a couple of days of enjoying each other, but on the Friday night Teddy had a Bad. He ended up trashing the hotel garden, screaming over and over, "Mum, why? Mum, why?".
Back on the floor, Teddy rubs his face with his sleeve. "I understand it even less now, 'cos if the sky was falling in I wouldn't leave Maddy here without me. I thought of that when I was holding her in the bathroom. No, I didn't think it, I knew it. It was in my head and I knew it. No matter what, I wouldn't leave her. Like Harry's mum- she stood in front of the cot, with her arms…"
Shakily, Teddy spreads his arms out to demonstrate. He often comes back to this, too- Harry's parents going into hiding with Harry, defending the house when Voldemort came, Harry's mum shielding her son. It's the opposite of what Teddy's parents did.
He bows his head and speaks to his toes, "And I thought it must have been my fault,"
Vic feels as if she has physically deflated. She holds him tighter. "Sweetheart, no. You know that isn't true. You know how much they loved you,"
In the photos of them together, Teddy's dad looks bowled over by pleased he is to have a child. He did drawings, too and he wrote a couple of pages about what it was like when Teddy was first born. And there's the letters they wrote the day they died, hastily scribbled messages of apology, or love, of attempted explanation. It isn't enough. During a Bad, Teddy's usually at two extremes: he either claims that his parents were terrible people who he despises for abandoning them, or he's convinced that they were right to leave because there was something wrong with him; he cannot be loved and so should not be loved.
"They just thought something else was more important," he spits, clearly not believing Vic's words. Eyes on the floor, Teddy mumbles, "Maddy's perfect and I wasn't perfect enough,"
He wipes his face on his arm again and continues, "And then I wasn't Dad, I was Maddy. And- we talked about this last week, didn't we- she's older now than I was when Mum and Dad died. She gets us, she gets her parents here and I didn't get mine. And I was so angry at her for that. I thought I was going to crack open. I wanted to hurt her, I wanted to do really bad stuff to her. I could feel the Bad coming and spreading in me and I put her down and I ran away and I let it happen,"
Teddy stares back down at the carpet. "If I could make myself not be like this, I would. I swear,"
"I know you would," Vic assures him.
"And now my own baby, our perfect baby, is ruined for me too because of them," he says bitterly.
"No, she isn't. She loves you, Teddy, and you kept her safe tonight," Vic promises.
"Yeah, kept her safe like they didn't. She loves me like they did, does she?" Teddy shoots back. Then his voice cracks again, "How many more people can they fuck up, Vic? They've fucked up me and they're fucking up everybody I love, too,"
He hugs his knees against his chest, shivering with sobs. Victoire can see a bruise already forming on his wrist. For the first couple of years Vic witnessed Bad, she insisted to Teddy afterwards that the Bads were nothing to be ashamed of. It wasn't his fault and he wasn't doing anything wrong. Now, Vic knows that she was an idiot. How can screaming and flailing like an animal not be shameful? He should be ashamed of being enraged at their daughter for something she has no control over- it's that shame which stopped him attacking her. And of course he's ashamed of being a thirty-one-year-old man regressed to a childlike state, curled up and trembling and weeping. Vic is grateful for and touched by the fact that Teddy's never been ashamed of it in front of her.
She holds him while he cries, and she wipes her own tears away too. When Teddy's regained composure, Vic whispers, "Do you want to go back to bed?"
Teddy nods yes, so Vic disentangles herself from him, gets to her feet and holds a hand out. Teddy pulls himself up and holds the side of the upturned sofa to steady himself. Faltering, he follows her upstairs and into their bedroom, and instantly drops to his knees in front of Madeleine's cot.
"I'm sorry, Maddy," he whispers, "It's not your fault. I'm so sorry,"
"It's not your fault either," Vic reminds him.
Teddy doesn't respond.
"None of this is your fault, Ted," Vic repeats firmly.
He cranes his neck around to face her and says in a stony voice, "No. It's Dad's,"
He gets to his feet, staggers to the cabinet, opens the middle drawer, and takes out the bottle of Calm Balm. It takes Teddy a couple of attempts to unscrew the lid, and then he downs two capfuls. Gingerly, he climbs into bed and shuffles over to his side. Vic slips out of her dressing gown, hangs it on the back of the door and gets in beside him. Teddy takes her hand, and Vic notes that he's shaking less than before.
After a Bad, she likes ground him by talking about normal, boring topics. Vic allows a moment of silence, then asks, "Can you pick up a loaf of bread after work tomorrow?"
"Okay," Teddy agrees.
"And a pint of milk," Victoire adds.
"Do we need more biscuits?"
It turns out that when you have a baby you're in constant need of a supply of biscuits for guests.
"Probably," Vic yawns. The exhaustion of a Bad often sneaks up on her suddenly afterwards- plus she's been up already tonight feeding Madeleine. Thank Merlin she doesn't have work in the morning. Teddy does though, so he'll be knackered tomorrow night. She'll have to try to convince him to go to bed early, but that seems a far away in the future.
"Victoire?" says Teddy after a pause.
"Hmm?"
He rolls over in the darkness to face her.
"You were dead sexy when you took your dressing gown off just now,"
He's smiling at her with that adorable cheeky grin he wears whenever he says stuff like that. Vic is flooded with relief- he's coming back to himself.
"I mean it," Teddy insists, "Your tits look enormous,"
"Because I'm breast-feeding," Vic points out, because he knows that her nipples are leaky and chapped.
"You're stunning," he tells her seriously.
Although Vic's never tried to define herself by her beauty, accepting her sweaty, swollen post-baby body hasn't been easy. Perhaps one of the initial attractions of Teddy was that he'd known her long enough not to be rendered tongue-tied by the sight of her. Now, Vic knows now that he means it when he tells her she's beautiful or gorgeous or sexy. And, more importantly, he's saying it to his Vic, not the hot Veela girl. So she takes the compliment and grins back at him.
"Teddy Lupin, you old charmer,"
"Mmm," he says, smiling sleepily as he shuts his eyes.
The Calm Balm does its job, because soon Teddy's breathing becomes slow and rhythmic, and he's starfishing out- he always takes up too much room in bed. Vic waits another couple of minutes, then slips out from the covers and creeps across the room to the wall opposite the bed. On it is a corkboard plastered with photographs. They both enjoy taking pictures, and for years they've been pinning their favourites to the corkboard. Photos of them on holiday in the Maldives, by the lake on Teddy's Hogwarts graduation day, at the new Italian restaurant on Diagon Alley, crammed in a Muggle photo booth in the Trafford Centre, Christmas at the Burrow when they were tiny, rock-climbing in Tenerife. Tens of Vic-and-Teddys laughing and kissing and waving through the years. There's pictures of their family and friends, too, and most recently added is the magi-scan photo of Madeleine before she was born. At the top corners of the board are photos of their parents. There's one of Maman and Papa at Lou's coming-of-age party a couple of years ago. And there's one of Teddy's parents on their wedding day. They're sitting at a dining table in the hotel restaurant which Vic knows their wedding reception was held at. Teddy's dad is wearing a black suit which belonged to the infamous Sirius Black. Teddy's mum is wearing is wearing a 1950s-style wedding dress, which Vic knows that Grandma made for her. That's strange to imagine. Everybody knows that Teddy's parents weren't lovey-dovey- occasionally in the photo they hold hands, but mostly they just smile together and wave, and Teddy's mum flashes her wedding ring at the camera.
Vic looks up at the photograph. "Well," she whispers, "Did you see that?"
Teddy's parents beam back at her. His Dad's leaning forward over the table, hands clasped together like Teddy does when he's concentrating.
"It's not just him whose angry, okay? One day you'll have to answer to me, too," Vic hisses. Sometimes, Victoire hates Teddy's parents as much as Teddy does during a Bad. Sometimes she snarls at the photo that they didn't deserve to be parents, let alone have a son as special as Teddy.
"He thinks you didn't love him enough," Vic explains through gritted teeth, "He doesn't believe it all the time but he believed it tonight. I know you tried to explain- those notes you wrote before you left. I know you tried. But it's not enough- did you honestly ever believe it could be?"
Teddy and Vic and all the Weasley cousins have been told thousands of times why the war was worth it and why Teddy's parents were willing to die. But there's a difference between knowing something rationally, and feeling the way Teddy does about betrayal and fear, and the guilt and shame he carries with him.
Vic presses her thumb against Teddy's mum's face. "Did you see it was different this time? He's experiencing stuff differently now we've had Madeleine. I understand you now more than I did before. I know you'd tear the world apart for your baby. We all would, wouldn't we?"
Becoming a mother makes you abruptly, acutely aware of how every mother feels. Victoire's always seen her Grandma as the image of motherly love- cuddling, cooking, teaching the alphabet and wiping snotty noses and darning socks. It turns out that that is not the representation of maternal love. Motherly love is nothing like that. It is intense and violent. It seethes with the need to nurture and protect. It burns.
"That's what you thought you were doing for Teddy. You thought you were saving him, and I kind of get it. I know that if we'd lost they'd have come after him. But you didn't need to go," Vic pleads, "There were loads of people there already, they didn't need you too. You had a choice. Didn't you realise you had a choice?"
Teddy's mum was burning with this new love, too. Perhaps she thought attack was the best form of defence, and she believed she could protect Teddy better by charging into battle at Hogwarts. Vic knows that Teddy's mum was impatient like that, and she was an Auror so she probably thought that she was needed. What if she didn't want to wait until she was like the first Lily Potter, backed up against the cot with the monster towering over her baby? The monster for Teddy would have been Bellatrix Lestrange- did Teddy's mum try to get Bellatrix before Bellatrix could get Teddy? Vic can understand that. But she cannot imagine choosing to leave Madeleine here, or handing her over to Maman while Vic goes to fight. Not in the sense that Vic can't bear the thought of it- she literally cannot imagine herself doing it. If there was danger she would be with Madeleine.
Vic remembers Teddy yelling that he wanted to smash and snap Madeleine. She pushes her thumb harder onto his mum's face, and presses her fingers over his dad's, as if she's squashing ants.
"You made him want to hurt his baby," Vic seethes, "I will never forgive you for that,"
Teddy's parents are the reason he Bads, and the reason he gets so mad, in both senses of the word. They caused him to want to harm his daughter, and it was on Teddy to have the humanity not to, despite the fact that restraining himself caused him more pain. He was wrong when he said his parents had fucked up everyone he loves. But Victoire knows that together, in some way or another, she and Teddy will be dealing with this for the rest of his life.
"One day you'll have me to answer to," Vic repeats. She exhales, moves her hand away from the picture and tells Teddy's parents in a softer tone, "We love you. We miss you. Madeleine misses you too,"
A few times, Vic has held Madeleine up to this photograph so she can see her Nana and Grandad. They're going to keep talking about them and helping her have a relationship with them, like Andromeda did with Teddy.
Vic touches her index finger to Teddy's mum's face. "I wish you were here. I reckon I could do with a mother-in-law,"
Andromeda's a force of nature, but it isn't the same as the relationship Maman and Vic's Wealsey Aunties have with Grandma. They're not easy relationships all the time, but Vic could do with a mother-in-law to give tips about babies and bring a perspective which isn't Maman's. By all accounts Teddy's mum was a right laugh, and Vic would appreciate that. Their family is special, but it'll never be perfect because they'll always been missing two huge parts of it.
Vic glances over to the cot to check that Madeleine is sleeping. Then she walks over to the bed and climbs in. Teddy's asleep too, and Vic slips her hand back into his bony one. She shuts her eyes.
On the wall, Teddy's parents wave and laugh and smile, smile, smile.
Thank you for your time. I'd be very grateful for reviews.