Funerals. Teddy had always hated funerals. He would rather be any place but here.

But he knew he had to be. Teddy knew that he owed it to Arthur Weasley, the man who had played the role of his grandfather all his life, to be here. He owed it to everyone really.

Teddy had been in Romania for three years now. He had visited Harry and Ginny once, while Lily was still away at school, and he had owled Albus and James when they graduated, but other than that he'd had no contact whatsoever with his family. Not even Arthur Weasley. And now he never would again.

No one noticed Teddy as he slipped into the room. His hair was black for the occasion, which should have been a dead giveaway in the room of mostly redheads, but still no one payed him any attention. That is, until he took a deep breath and closed the door behind him, then he instantly felt two bony arms around him and all he could see was red hair as someone sobbed into his shoulder, but he didn't have to ask to know who he was holding.

"Shh," Teddy said in what he hoped but doubted was a soothing voice. "It's alright." Even as he said the words, he knew they weren't true.

"Lily," Teddy muttered, uncomfortable, as he attempted to maneuver them towards the couch. "Come on, it's gonna be okay."

"Good luck," a familiar voice said coldly. Teddy looked up to see James Potter glaring down at him. "She hasn't stopped crying since it happened." James's anger wavered slightly when he glanced toward his sister, but Teddy was soon subject to the full force of it.

"Wait--was she…there?" Teddy asked, bewildered. "When he died?"

James bit his lip. "Yeah," he admitted, and Teddy sensed guilt in his voice. "We were all taking turns staying with him, so he wasn't alone, y'know? I tried to leave her alone there as little as possible, but I had to work and…um…she won't talk about it," he added, changing the subject.

Teddy looked down at the sobbing figure in his arms. She seemed more pale than the last time he'd seen her, and definitely skinnier. What worried him was that the change was too drastic to have happened only in the week since Arthur's death.

Teddy looked up to consult James, but he was already gone. Instead, he saw another familiar face, one he would gladly have traded to have James back here.

"Victoire," Teddy said, hoping he sounded nonchalant, when really all he felt was exhausted.

"Teddy," she replied coolly. "It's been a while. Three years, right?"

Teddy held back every sarcastic remark that bubbled to the surface of his thoughts, but he couldn't quiet help but roll his eyes. This was probably not a smart move.

"Well!" Victoire replied indignantly. "As if you are the one who should be annoyed. As if you were the one whose heart was left sitting on the floor of the Burrow. As if you were the one who missed you so much she made herself sick over it!"

This last thing confused Teddy. While Victoire did have a tendency to lean towards the overdramatic, it was uncharacteristic of her to allow herself to become so attached to someone.

"Relax," she spat, rolling her eyes as she noted Teddy's bewildered expression. "I wasn't referring to me." She looked disdainfully--yet somehow sympathetically--towards Lily.

Now Teddy was really confused. He was the reason she now resembled a broom handle? But why would she miss him that much. They couldn't stand each other! At least, not usually. Teddy knew they had their moments. He had always felt the need to protect her, and she had always come to him for advice before anyone else, but the rest of the time they were at each other's throat! Fighting like cat and dog and out for blood!

Teddy was so preoccupied with these thoughts that he didn't notice the lack of sobbing in the background until Lily had already stood up.

No one saw it coming, really. Well, Victoire must have seen it coming, but it was coming so fast, she didn't have time to register it. Lily's fist that is.

That's right. Lily Potter punched Victoire Weasley in the nose. There was a very satisfying crunching sound before Teddy could even realize what she was doing much less grab her arm in a feeble attempt to stop it.

"Lily!" he cried, shocked.

"That felt good," was Lily's only reply, and she said it so devoid of any emotion that it surprised no one when, a moment later, she began to cry all over again.

By the time Teddy had managed to half-drag-half-carry Lily outside to sit in the grass, she had quieted down considerably. Much to the surprise of Ginny and Roxanne, both of whom had apparently been trying to console her for days.

Once outside, Teddy had no idea what to say. Thankfully, Lily spared him the awkward small-talk.

"It was awful," she began, sniffling in her effort to control her emotions. At first Teddy thought she meant punching Victoire, but then she continued. "He was just lying there, barely breathing. His skin was all clammy, and his eyes were only half shut. Then he opened one--just one eye--and stared at me for a moment. Then he said, 'take care of them' and just…died." Lily began to cry again.

"I'll never forgot that," she sobbed into Teddy's shoulder. "I'll never forget that he told me--me!--to take care of his family. I'll let him down, I know I will."

Teddy didn't say anything. What was there to say?