Part II

Teddy's grandmother had hardly been the "I love you" type. He was aware that Andromeda had never really liked his father that much, which was hardly a surprise, considering he had been a werewolf, and honestly, Teddy had always suspected that for the first several years of his life, his grandmother had kept him at arms length until she was sure that none of his dad's lycanthropy had been passed down. So the times when she did say that she loved him, Teddy was aware that there were strings attached.

Even his Uncle Harry, who had always treated him as one of his own children – only infinitely more precious because Teddy was a last link to one of his father's greatest friends – was emotionally stilted in his own way. And while it was obvious that he did love his family, saying it was not something he was in the habit of doing.

But Victoire came from one of those "I love you" families. Her parents said it to each other multiple times a day, chanting it to their kids every night as they fell asleep, when they woke up, whenever they left the house, and Victoire continued that pattern when she and Teddy had begun dating seriously.

And it wasn't that he didn't love her. At least, he didn't think that was the problem.

Victoire was important to him, possibly more than anyone else in his life, but telling her that, actually saying the words, was a lot more difficult than just thinking it.

Honestly, it was something he'd never had the courage to do.

It used to make her angry. They'd fought about it countless times over the years – they still did, in fact – but she had stopped expecting a reply from him by now.

He wanted to say it. The deep cold of the silence that followed whenever Victoire said she loved him always seemed to expand inside of his chest painfully, like a hot air balloon, only freezing, as thought it were made of ice.

But no matter how much Teddy tried, no matter how much he wanted, the words simply wouldn't come.

"Did you see the report Twilby turned in yesterday afternoon?" Owen asked the next day and the question took a few seconds to filter through to Teddy's brain. He had been poring over files, dissecting every bit of information he'd been able to dig up on the victim, a Mr. Ajax Williams, age thirty-four, of King's Cross, since before lunch.

He looked up from his papers and stretched his neck. "Twilby turned in a report? Shocking. What for?"

"Breaking and entering in an abandoned store on Knockturn Alley two nights ago."

"And this is important because?"

"Hang on, I'm getting to that. I guess a neighbor reported it, which is odd in itself for Knockturn Alley if you think about it, because they avoid any contact with the Ministry like we're the viral plague. Anyway, Twilby went to take a look early yesterday morning and said it looked like there had been some kind of... ritual there."

"What made him think that?"

He pointed out a line in the report. "It's right here: a pentagon burnt and carved into the wood flooring, with blood stains on the floor and the remnants of what looked like a small fire. Sounds like someone was trying to dabble in some Sorcery."

Sorcery (those more reverent of it called it Old Magic in hushed tones) was the use of unharnessed and unfiltered magic. Magic in its most pure and mysterious form. Things like having magical blood, whether inherited or gifted by nature, gave the power to control magic, and using wands helped strengthen that control even further.

But the practice of Sorcery didn't require a wand or even magical blood. It appealed to the magic that hung in the air, unused, unbound and undiluted. This was usually for more paranormal practices: as a medium to talk with ghosts or force divination from spirits or even, at its most twisted, attempting necromancy.

Of course, Teddy only knew about this from the very, very brief mention his history teacher had made of it back in school. Dark Magic, magic harnessed and used for harm or other evil purposes, was looked down upon, but Sorcery was taboo of the most serious kind. Magic unbound could not be trusted. Too often it had a mind of its own.

"Sorcery? I don't think I've heard of a case involving that in… years."

"That's not the interesting part. Twilby, through some moment of brilliance – "

"A rare occurrence, I'm sure," Teddy snorted in disbelief.

Owen spoke over him, " – did an essence charm on the pile of ashes and you'll never guess what he came up with."

"Astonish me."

"The shape of a human heart."

Teddy nearly dropped the quill he was holding. "A heart? You mean – "

"Like the one we're missing?" Owen grinned at him. "Precisely."

"What about the blood he found on the floor? Did he – "

"Check it for any magical properties? Yes, but there weren't any present, so he gave it to our connection with the local Muggle police and they found a match with a Muggle woman that was found dead in the street yesterday morning."

"So that means that they were both probably killed expressly for the ritual."

"That's what I decided too. Of course, the problem now is that there's absolutely no way to catch whoever did it. Both bodies and the room were completely clean."

Teddy sat back, balancing his chair on two legs and feeling stumped. "It's odd that whoever did this would leave the debris from the whole thing for someone else to find. They were so careful with the murders."

"I don't know what to tell you. I think it's odd too, but we're grasping at straws here."

Teddy duplicated Twilby's report and stacked on top of all his other papers. "I'm going to do some research. You don't think there'd be anything on this stuff in the Department of Mysteries library, do you?"

"They did confiscate all the 'unsuitable' books from the Death Eater house raids all those years ago. There's bound to be something."

"It's worth a shot at least. Can you stay here in case Uncle Ha – Mr. Potter needs us for something?"

"Sure thing." Owen busied himself with his tea, making a tower by stacking his biscuits one on top of the other and Teddy rolled his eyes, gathering the papers into his arms.

"If anyone needs me, I'll be buried under a pile of books."

Hopefully anything he found would take them one step closer to solving the case.

The distress call from St. Mungo's reached the Aurors just after midnight that night.

Teddy had stayed late in the Unspeakables' library, trying to find any shred of evidence that might connect the man they found in the alley with the pentagon that had been discovered. He had been poring over reports and maps and any book with a mention of Sorcery that he could find for so long he didn't even realize he was supposed to have met Victoire for dinner nearly four hours ago until Twilby had burst into the library yelling something about a fire. He said the rest of the Aurors had already gone and he had been left to get as many people as possible that might be able to help.

Twilby had shoved a Portkey at Teddy and he had never been so thankful that Victoire had Fridays off work. She was safe at home, waiting for him.

When his feet found the ground again, it was on a city street that was lit entirely by the glowing light of a raging fire.

The flames were already coming out the windows of the lower floors of St. Mungo's, licking the wooden frames into ashes and Teddy spotted Owen a few feet away, holding the small shape of a child in his arms and staring up at the burning building in some kind of horrified awe.

"Why aren't you – " Teddy started, his wand ready to cast a water charm, when Owen yelled over the roaring of the fire.

"It's Fiendfyre. There's nothing that can put it out. We had to evacuate."

Teddy nodded and prepared to Apparate to the roof to help, but Owen's hand on his arm stopped him.

"Is Victoire – ?"

He shook his head. "She had the night off. Where do you need me?"

"The upper floors are all clear. We think there might still be some people trapped on the third floor, but there's no way to get to them. The building's going to collapse at any – "

Before Owen could even finished his sentence, Teddy had already Apparated to the fourth floor stairwell. Sprinting down the flight, he cast a quick Bubble-Head Charm to protect himself from the choking smoke and threw himself through the door.

The heat was overwhelming, pressing in from all sides like a furnace, and he could feel the sweat begin pouring off his skin. The fire had just started to eat through the floor and Teddy wasn't sure if it was the fumes or simply the magical nature of the fire, but he could have sworn he saw animals with jaws of fire chewing away at the tiles.

Shaking his head to clear it, he called out, "Hello? Anyone?"

Teddy strained his ears to hear over the angry howl of the blaze and the loud crack of a piece of the flooring tumbling down into the sea of fire below. Anyone that was trapped here wouldn't survive much longer with the building falling to pieces.

"Help!"

Teddy could have sworn he heard a small voice call from down the corridor, and he moved towards the sound. The fiery animals that had been attacking the floor seemed to have grown wings, birds of flame flitting through the air and tearing the walls into embers with scorching talons.

"Help, somebody, please!"

The faint cry had become a terrified scream, and Teddy followed it into a room to his right. The smoke was so thick there he could hardly see two feet in front of him, but Teddy thought he caught a glimpse of a woman's hair shining brightly through the pillaring cloud.

The person screamed again, and it was blood curdling and desperate. He reached up to wave the smoke out of his eyes and instead, his hand ran into his Bubble-Head Charm, popping it.

"I'm here! Take my hand!" He coughed as the smoke rushed into his mouth, burning his throat and making his eyes tear.

Without warning, a piece of the ceiling broke loose, falling like a ball of fire, and hit him on the shoulder. Teddy cried out as the pain tore through him and beat at the fabric of his robe, trying to put out the fire that clung to it. A wolf of solid flame had tried to tear at it with teeth made of embers, but when he hit it, the animal seemed to go up in a cloud smoke. His right arm hung numb and useless at his side. Teddy was beginning to think he might not make it out of this fire alive.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a small hand reaching out through the smoke and he grabbed it with his good arm.

"You okay?" he called, thinking that even if he wasn't able to get them both out of this, then at least neither of them would have to die alone, when he caught sight of the ring on the woman's hand. It was the ring he had given Victoire that Christmas. He strained his eyes and thought he could see the shimmer of her silver hair through a gap in the smoke.

"Victoire?" He dragged his body as close has he could manage and her familiar face came into view. There were tears streaming down her cheeks as she coughed from the fumes. "Victoire, what are you doing here?"

Her eyes widened a fraction at the sight of him and he saw that they where bloodshot and irritated.

"Teddy," she rasped and he could barely hear her over the howling of the flame animals as they began to surround them both, circling like vultures. "Teddy, I'm so sorry! I was so angry at you and I – "

She coughed again, and Teddy saw her eyes roll back into her head, the whites blank and frightening. He screamed her name as her hand went limp in his. Another piece of the ceiling fell and out of the corner of his eye, he saw the shape of a bird dive towards them. A falcon of fire. The silly thought – that that was the form of Victoire's Patronus – crossed his mind, and with the last bit of energy he had, he raised his wand, injured arm screaming in pain.

The fiery bird seemed to throw open its wings as it fell through the air, tongues of fire trailing like feathers, and it opened its beak in a murderous scream. Teddy clutched at Victoire's wrist hard enough to bruise, staring right into the blazing eyes of the bird, and Dispparated.

The next thing Teddy was aware of was his senses being assaulted by the sights and sounds of a makeshift hospital room filled with bustling Healers and his Uncle Harry's concerned face hovering above him.

"Teddy?"

The light reflected harshly on the lenses of his uncle's glasses and Teddy shut his eyes tightly against the pain the flashing caused.

"I think he's awake," Harry called urgently and was pushed aside as someone, probably a Healer, Teddy thought, began to examine him. She lifted open both of his eyelids, shining a bright lumos into them, and checked his pulse.

"You're lucky to be alive, taking a risk like that," the Healer, an older woman with salt and pepper hair, said as she waved her wand over his chest in a practiced manner that said she probably did this a hundred times a day.

Teddy tried to say he felt more like he'd been run over by a train than he did lucky, but the quick rush of air into his lungs sent scoring pains all through his windpipe. He clutched at his throat with one hand, his right arm lying helplessly at his side, and the Healer clucked at him.

"Try not to speak." If Teddy could have said anything, he would have made a snide remark about how he had figured that out himself, thanks. Instead, he had to settle for a glare. "Your esophagus sustained some serious scorching from the heat and smoke of the fire. It'll be a few days before it heals enough for you to be able to talk."

Teddy looked down at his arm, remembering the piece of the ceiling falling on top of him like a flaming comet and the wolf that had torn at him with teeth made of fire.

"I've numbed your shoulder and mended the collar bone but the burn... Since it was a magical fire, I'm afraid there's not much more I can do. It'll have to heal in its own time."

The skin of his shoulder and the whole right side of his chest had been seared away and Teddy watched as the angry charred red of the burn disappeared underneath wrappings as the Healer bandaged it up.

"I'm putting your arm in a sling for a week or two and you should be fine on your own while it heals. Thankfully, most of our potions stores were able to be salvaged, so I can give you something for the pain."

She went on to describe what she was giving him – a replenishing tonic to help his lungs, a pain relief potion, a salve for the burn and enough dreamless sleep potion to last him until his arm and chest healed – but Teddy had stopped listening.

His head ached and felt heavy, as if it was filled with smoke from the fire. More than anything, he wished he were at home, lying in bed with Victoire's cool hands on his forehead.

"Teddy!"

The piercing cry cut through the Healer's warnings about the dangerous side effects of mixing potions that he had been ignoring anyway.

There was a flash of silver hair and suddenly a woman was weeping all over his bandaged chest. He reached out with his good arm, glad that Victoire was here at last, and felt some of the tension begin to seep out of him. Uncle Harry appeared in the doorway behind the Healer, along with Uncle Bill.

Uncle Harry looked tired, Teddy thought he must have helped with the fire, and there were anxious lines showing around Uncle Bill's eyes.

"Be careful of his shoulder," Uncle Bill said quietly as Victoire continued to sob intelligible things into the blanket, clutching at Teddy's hands, and he came up next to the bed. The light made his face look strangely pale and drawn up close. "I'm so sorry, Teddy." Uncle Bill looked down at her again and put a hand on her shoulder. "She's – pretty upset."

She lifted her head to look at Teddy, shoulders still shaking, and he blinked. He wasn't sure if he was seeing things or not, because the crying woman wasn't Victoire like he had thought.

It was Aunt Fleur.

In the background he could hear Uncle Harry asking the Healer about taking him home and the edges of everything seemed to go fuzzy.

Home.

Victoire would be at home. He just wanted Victoire.

Teddy got one more glimpse of Aunt Fleur's tearstained face, blue eyes welling with tears like an endless flood, and then his eyelids slid shut.