"All righ', we're here," Teddy heard Hagrid say after what felt like an eternity. He burst out from under Hagrid's coat, trying not to appear too frantic as he gulped for fresh air. "Sorry it took so long, the gargoyle didn' seem too pleased ter let me in."
"No worries," Teddy managed in a strangled voice. He was promptly distracted from his pulmonary distress, however, as he took in the magnificence of the Headmistress' office.
Teddy's first impression was that Hagrid had mistakenly led him into a royal chamber of some kind. Rich burgundy and blue fabric clung to every surface and wall; chalices of gold and silver sat on top of a magnificent bookshelf with wizarding books Teddy had never heard of before. A tawny owl hooted softly on her perch in the corner. Perhaps the most chaotic part of the room was the Headmistress' mahogany desk, which was overloaded with papers and reports. Behind the desk hung the portraits of every Headmaster Hogwarts had ever head, each of them regarding the small boy with varying degrees of curiosity. Finally Teddy laid eyes on the portrait furthest left; a white-haired wizard with a long, equally white beard peered at Teddy with amusement over his half-moon glasses, fingertips pressed together.
"Does Minerva know there is a student in her office, Hagrid?" Dumbledore asked lightly.
"Not exactly, sir, no," Hagrid mumbled.
"I thought not," he continued, ever-smiling. "She expressed plans to meet with the Minister and certain Aurors with regard to the house-elf situation this week. I don't suppose you knew this, Hagrid?"
"She might've mentioned it," Hagrid said, speaking to his shoes.
"Well, I daresay this must be important for Hagrid to have broken Minerva's rules," Dumbledore said amicably to Teddy. "May I help you with something?"
"I… I'm here to ask you some questions about the past," Teddy said confidently.
Dumbledore nodded. "Do sit down," he advised, beckoning at McGonagall's chair behind the desk.
Hagrid placed a hand on Teddy's shoulder. "I'll be waitin' outside," he muttered to the boy. Teddy nodded; Hagrid smiled fleetingly at Dumbledore before striding out the door. Teddy shuffled forward, suddenly more intimidated now that he was by himself in the Headmistress' office, and settled himself into the oversized chair. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Professor," he managed through a dry mouth.
"Is it? I always wondered," Dumbledore smiled. "You must be Theodore Lupin." Teddy gaped in shock. "Your hair was a nasty shade of purple when you walked in," Dumbledore explained. "It is now fading to a brown much similar to your mother's. Unfortunately, true Metamorphmagi are rare enough to be instantly recognizable. That is, unless they've morphed into someone else."
"I try to keep my abilities, er, under a hat," Teddy admitted, "but I find it harder the more magic is in the air, and, well, Hogwarts…"
"Ah, yes, it would serve a hindrance. It took your mother until her seventh year to harness her abilities, and I daresay you've already got a jump on her in that respect."
"I can't do my face yet," he said hastily.
"It will come with time," Dumbledore said. "Now, Theodore…"
"Call me Teddy. Please. Sir."
If Dumbledore noticed Teddy's blush, he gave no indication. "Teddy, if you don't mind my asking: why did you come here tonight? More specifically, why did you come to me?"
Teddy paused before answering, organizing his thoughts. "I've inherited a couple of my dad's…" Teddy stopped, peering hesitantly down at the line of faces. "Ah, a few of my dad's… characteristics. Nothing terrible, just getting sick every, ah, four weeks or so, and… and I find…"
"It's all right, Teddy," Dumbledore said. "Remus spent enough time in my office in his year of professorship here that everyone here is already well aware of his, ah, 'furry little problem', as he called it."
Teddy swallowed. "Right. Well, lately I've been compelled by the smell of another student, a friend of mine. He doesn't smell any particular way that's different from anyone else, but being around him makes me… hungry. Hungry in a way that's different from my usual hunger, like… like bloodlust, almost." Teddy looked intently at his shoes; this was the first time he'd admitted aloud that his compulsion to Riley was pure bloodlust. Here he was, admitting something he was ashamed of to a wall of portraits holding important people. At his admission, some portraits further down the line gasped; some merely clucked their tongues unappreciatively; the portrait next to Dumbledore merely regarded Teddy with disgust (although it struck Teddy that this had not changed since the moment he'd stepped into the room). "I spoke with Madam Pomfrey about it, and she said it had happened before but wouldn't disclose when, or to whom, or what had happened, or why it was happening to me. I spoke with my godfather as well, and he told me to simply forget about it, which—"
"Is rather unlike Harry," Dumbledore interjected, nodding understandingly.
"Right." Teddy sighed. "I hate this. I want to know why it's happening. One of my friends—she knows about his problem—suggested it might have to do with dad. We figured that Professor McGonagall has a bit on her mind, and we couldn't think of anyone else who would have known about his problem when he was at school, so we went down to talk to Hagrid…"
"And he told you about the incident in your father's third year, about which I refused to disclose any information to him," Dumbledore interrupted.
Teddy nodded. "The only people who would have known what would have happened that day were all, well, er… dead," he concluded. "So Hagrid offered to help me talk to the best authority on the matter: you." Teddy swallowed. "I realize that you don't want to betray the confidence of the other involved party, but if it is relevant in any way to my problem…"
Dumbledore nodded slowly, staring at the ceiling with raised eyebrows and holding his fingertips together. "You have inherited your mother's curiosity," Dumbledore noted without looking at Teddy.
Teddy snorted lightly with amusement. "Most people tell me I got it from my godfather."
"Ah, well, that too, but you can hardly inherit a trait from someone you are not related to by blood," Dumbledore granted, smiling lightly. "You've also inherited a knack possessed by both your father and Harry: excellent reasoning. You are right to see a connection between your father's incident and your issue of compulsion to your friend; it would make sense that it is less if you have exhibited only residual signs of werewolfish tendencies."
"That hardly makes it easy to contend with," Teddy mumbled.
"No, I would guess not." Dumbledore peered and the boy, dwarfed by the chair, seated in front of him. Staring nostalgically at the wall behind Teddy, Dumbledore began recounting 'the incident'.
"The morning before the incident occurred, we had a problem between two second-year students. One of the boys, whom we shall call Gunther for the sake of anonymity, was being taunted by a house-mate for his poor transfiguration. Gunther lost his temper and tried to curse his house-mate, but he was too quick for Gunther, as well as a tad overzealous with his wand, and knocked him clear across the room. Naturally, Gunther was knocked unconscious; such was the force of the curse that rennervation charms would not work. We thought it best to contact Gunther's family and let them know of the injury.
"The following morning, Gunther's elder brother and sole caretaker, whom we shall call Eugene, again for anonymity's sake, arrived at Hogwarts. Eugene, who was of non-magical persuasion, felt quite out of place at his brother's school. Eugene was hardly the cheeriest of folk; without realizing the reaction his words would incur, Eugene began muttering under his breath some rather derogatory things about wizards and witches on his way to the hospital wing to visit his brother. At the time, some particularly big-headed seventh years were passing, overheard his remarks and began questioning Eugene quite aggressively. When they determined that he was of what some believe to be a deplorable blood status, the seventh-years began using magic to toy with him.
"This was, of course, mid-morning on a regular school day; students and teachers were filing through the halls at a regular rate. The potions teacher at the time, Professor Slughorn, happened by as Eugene began to hover in the air at the hand of the aggressive seventh-years. Without thinking, Professor Slughorn disarmed the boys, which sent poor Eugene in a head-first freefall onto the stone floors, with rather gruesome results. Eugene was promptly taken to the hospital wing and patched up, as I understand it, with no trouble at all; he was given a potion for his pain and lay next to his brother Gunther in the hospital wing for the remainder of the day. Fortunately, Gunther recovered from his unidentified curse, and so Eugene had a conversation partner while he recovered in this strange and unwelcoming place.
"What I did not learn until much later was that your father, Remus, and his friends were walking through the same corridor in which Eugene took his spill at the moment at which it happened. Naturally, four thirteen-year-old boys are not going to pass up an excuse to hover around a potential fight scene. Remus spent just enough time in the presence of Eugene's blood to get a good whiff of it before being ushered away by Professor Slughorn.
"Eugene, feeling better by evening, expressed a wish to get some fresh air. Gunther negotiated with Madam Pomfrey, and the brothers slipped out the front doors and took a short walk around the grounds.
"At this exact moment, Remus and his compatriots were returning from the Quidditch pitch after an evening of flying around the stands. A gust of wind brought Eugene's scent to Remus' nose. I gather at this point, Remus lost consciousness of what he was doing; from here I rely on the eye-witness accounts of his friends. Remus stopped in his tracks and turned slowly in the direction of the area where Eugene and Gunther were walking. He did not respond to his friends' inquiries as to what he was doing; each suddenly noticed that his pupils had grown drastically and that he was in fact snarling at the pair. Realizing that Remus was somehow appealing to the beast within himself well before the full moon, James Potter and Sirius Black each grabbed one of Remus' arms in an attempt to drag him away from the situation. Remus, however, broke rather violently free and began running toward Eugene, shortly pouncing upon him and tearing at his flesh with his teeth.
"James and Sirius, fortunately both quick thinkers as well as adept with their wands, together managed to stun Remus, but the damage was done; Eugene was quite seriously injured. Peter Pettigrew had gone to fetch Madam Pomfrey and myself; Eugene was taken back to the hospital wing while Remus was taken to my office, rennervated, interrogated, and was shortly deemed irresponsible for his actions. Nonetheless, I had not yet made the connection between the earlier accident and the incident here; I felt uncomfortable leaving him in the castle until we could come up with an adequate solution, and so I took him down to Hagrid's. I believe you know the story from there."
Teddy was stunned. Whatever he had expected the story to be, that had not been among his options. The shock must have shown on his face, for Dumbledore smiled grimly and asked him, "Had you been expecting something else?"
"Yes!" Teddy exclaimed. "I had been expecting some misplaced guilt for self-defense, like perhaps the boy had attacked him first and he'd retaliated and it had turned out well for dad, but not for the other bloke…"
Dumbledore peered sadly at Teddy. "Yet that would not have brought you the answers you're searching for. Is that really the story you wanted to hear?"
Teddy didn't respond, instead opting to stare at the wall. Everything about the story made sense: being unconsciously compelled to Riley, the feeling of bloodlust… if that really had happened to his dad, it would make sense that the same problem would happen to him. But when would Teddy have come into contact with Riley's blood?
"What happened with the boy who was attacked? Eugene?" Teddy asked suddenly.
"He recovered well. Being attacked by a thirteen-year-old boy is easier to contend with if you happen to be seventeen years old and several inches taller, as was Eugene. Remus was not transformed at the time of attack, so there was no transference. Eugene developed some physical characteristics of a werewolf: a hunchback, bulging eyes; but aside from a lifelong hatred of werewolves, no other permanent damage was done." Dumbledore paused. "Remus and Eugene met again, many years later. As I understand it, it was initially a struggle for Remus to hold himself back, but either he got used to the feeling or learned to suppress it. I daresay Eugene never forgave him for what he did, but as Remus was a rather powerful wizard while Eugene, as I mentioned, was not magically inclined. I believe Eugene revered your father with fear, which must have been a terrible burden on Remus; causing harm to another person because of his condition was perhaps his biggest fear."
Teddy carried on staring at the wall until Dumbledore interrupted his thoughts once more. "If I may offer you some advise, Teddy: leave your father's issues with your father. This one was pertinent to you so I offered you the answers you sought, but were I in your shoes, I would respect Harry's judgement henceforth. I suspect very much that he convinced Madam Pomfrey to tell him what had happened on that occasion, and that he made the decision not to tell you because he feared it would scar the magnificent memory you deserve to have of your father. Remus truly was a great man. It would pain him to know that you are forced to carry his burdens." Dumbledore paused. "With time, like he did, I believe you'll get used to your problems with your friend. I am sorry that this is happening to you, but I hope the answers I was able to provide you with will help you."
Teddy took this as an indication that the conversation was over. "Thank you, Professor," Teddy said quietly, looking Dumbledore's portrait in the eye. Dumbledore smiled tiredly and nodded once before leaning against his frame and making himself comfortable for an apparently well-needed nap. Teddy looked quickly along the line of portraits before quietly letting himself out of the office, shutting the door silently behind him.