The wedding ceremony between Teddy and Victoire was quiet and unassuming.

It took place at the Ministry, early in the morning, before most workers arrived. It was attended by Sirius, the boys, Dumbledore, McGonagall, and to Teddy's great shock, the ancient Flamels. Dumbledore had some business to attend to with them—Teddy tried not to roll his eyes at the plan to keep the philosopher's stone at Hogwarts—but the Flamels turned out to be fascinating people who Teddy was genuinely delighted to meet before they died (assuming the next year or so went as planned and the Flamels decided to destroy the Elixir of Life).

It was Victoire who had finally convinced Teddy that marriage was their best option.

"What if other people want to date us?" she'd said. "Not to sound presumptuous or pompous, but I don't want to be hit on for the next twenty-six years."

Teddy didn't understand that particular problem, but agreed it sounded absolutely dreadful to have several attractive suitors.

"What are we supposed to do? Just not go out with anyone for all that time?" she'd argued, waving her arms around in the dusty, horrifying library of Grimmauld Place.

Teddy only grimaced; he wasn't looking forward to an extended, time-imposed period of singlehood, but it seemed like a worthy sacrifice for winning the war.

"What if we date one of our parents' exes? What if we date one of our friends' parents and they're never born?"

That caught Teddy's attention. He had many good friends whose lives he was already jeopardizing. If he dated one of their mothers and things went awry . . . he was coming to terms with entertaining the possibility his friends wouldn't be born, despite his best intentions. He couldn't look himself in the mirror if he knew he was the cause of their non-existence.

"This way we won't be tempted," Victoire had reasoned, "and we won't lead anyone on or get in anyone's way. We should do it, Teddy, and we can split up later. No harm done, and anyway, if something happens to Sirius, the Ministry will treat us better if we're married and 'mature.' You don't want Al and Scorp to end up in the Malfoys' hands, do you?"

With Victoire's fervent belief that marriage was the best option for safeguarding the future, Teddy gave in. There were too many good reasons to get married and not enough to avoid the union. They were already sleeping in the same room at Grimmauld Place, albeit in separate beds, reminding Teddy of their many sleepovers as children. It would be just like when they were kids, he thought, waiting to grow older until they could be free to do whatever they liked.

Even if what Teddy wanted most was to wake up next to Victoire every day, not as his roommate, but as his partner in life.

Thus a reluctant, but hopeful Teddy made his vows to Victoire. He planted a chaste kiss on her lips at the Ministry and the two walked away as the new Mr. and Mrs. Howell.

Scorpius and Al giggled mercilessly at their kiss, but Sirius was surprisingly effective at squashing their most ridiculous antics. He was also generous and took everyone out to a preposterously posh restaurant in London, simply because he could.

It was over breakfast that they started discussing their next steps.

"Now that all the festivities are out of the way," said Sirius, "we can move onto other legal matters. Teddy, you and Victoire have been named as Al and Scorpius's secondary guardians. Should something happen to me, they're yours until they're of age." He passed a roll of parchment over the table and gave it to Teddy. "I've named you my primary heir. The house, the Black family vault, and all its belongings are yours upon my death."

"What?" Teddy unfurled the parchment and saw Sirius's updated last will and testament. "Why me? What about Harry?"

"With a 'nephew' and two sons, I had to amend the will. You're as much a Black as Scorpius and you were born first," Sirius explained. "Al and Scorpius will reunite with their birth families one day. They won't need the gold. The Potters had plenty and the Malfoys have more than plenty. Besides, that memory you showed me of Harry—looked so much like James—he wanted you to have the house. I don't want to override his wishes."

Teddy felt there was more to it than Sirius suggested, but he wasn't going to argue with the man. He'd learned that when it came to Sirius Black, he marched to the beat of his own drum and made quick, assertive decisions.

"Thank you, Sirius," was all Teddy could muster. "Gran was helping me renovate Grimmauld Place so I could move into it when I was done with Healer training. She redid the tapestry and added mum and dad to it."

"A werewolf on the pureblood family tapestry," marveled Sirius. "That's what it needed."

He grinned and ate a hearty helping of breakfast potatoes. He'd been out of Azkaban for two weeks and his color was returning. He was no longer skeletally thin, but still sickly-looking; Teddy would've force-fed him nutritional potions, but the man disappeared from Grimmauld Place for hours at a time, leaving Victoire to manage with the boys.

Teddy suspected Sirius was watching Harry as Padfoot; Dumbledore didn't know this, at least not to Teddy's knowledge, as they were waiting for all their lives to be settled before formally introducing Sirius to Harry. Teddy knew young Harry could use a friend, so he decided not to say anything about it.

"More good news," Sirius said, pulling out two envelopes. One went to Teddy and the other to Victoire.

"Open yours first, Vic," Teddy said, seeing the official Ministry seal on her envelope. His had St. Mungo's emblem, so he had an idea of what was within, and wanted to know what Victoire would be seeing.

She tore open the envelope and squealed loudly enough that passers-by gave them disapproving looks.

"Nine N.E.W.T.s! Teddy, I got nine of them!"

Teddy beamed and congratulated her. He wanted to kiss her, but as they weren't really married or together in any sense, he placed a kiss on her cheek. She blushed and showed off her results to the others at the table.

"These are excellent results, Miss—Mrs. Howell," McGonagall corrected.

"Please call me Victoire, Professor."

McGonagall smiled and read through the list. "What is it you wish to do?"

"In our time, I wanted to work for Gringotts, like my dad, but I don't want to do that anymore. I want to work for the Ministry."

"Any department would be lucky to have you," said Dumbledore. "Congratulations on your results."

"Sirius," said Victoire, turning to face him, "can you see if you can get me into the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures? I want to help werewolves, like Teddy's dad. My dad got attacked by Greyback and Granny Weasley still makes such a fuss about it, but there's nothing wrong with him. Anyone affected by lycanthropy deserves a better life."

Teddy had to suppress his own exuberant cheer, as well as the sudden desire to pin Victoire down and snog her senseless.

"I'll write a letter to the Minister," Sirius agreed, shaking Victoire's hand. "Excellent goal. I support it wholeheartedly."

McGonagall and Dumbledore were beaming as well. Al and Scorpius weren't paying much attention, as they'd been kept entertained by the tales of Mr. and Mrs. Flamel, who had lived through the grisliest parts of the French Revolution and were glad to share their stories with the eleven year olds.

"Open yours now!" Victoire said, tapping on Teddy's envelope. He did as she asked and unfolded the acceptance letter to St. Mungo's Healer Trainee program.

"I have to start in year one," Teddy explained, showing off the letter, "but I don't mind. I need to get the hang of the way St. Mungo's operates in the early 90s. I wonder what kinds of archaic and barbaric treatment methods are in vogue today."

"I wouldn't call them archaic and barbaric, Teddy," Victoire whispered, as McGonagall and Sirius chuckled. "Don't go in thinking you know better. That's what Maman always says." Teddy wanted to roll his eyes—he did know better, with an additional 26 years' worth of medical advances known to him—but suppressed the urge.

McGonagall had an envelope in her hand as well. She gave it to Sirius, saying, "We have news for you, Professor Black."

Sirius opened the letter and murmured thank yous to both McGonagall and Dumbledore. He even kissed McGonagall's cheek, which brought he most unexpected, pink hue to her face.

"Behave yourself," McGonagall admonished. "Professor Snape is not thrilled with our decision, but we expect you both to behave like the civil adults that you are."

"Professor Severus Snape!" Al called happily. "Like my middle name!"

"Like your old middle name, Al," Teddy warned.

Sirius scoffed dramatically. He'd been a complete prat about Al's name when he discovered why he was called Albus Severus by Harry and Ginny, but out of respect for them—and Lily's memory—Sirius agreed to be civil to the potions master. Teddy had no idea what would become of Al and Scorpius under Professor Snape's tutelage. By all accounts, though a war hero, he was not a pleasant instructor.

"We have a few other issues to discuss," said Dumbledore, as a new dish was brought to their table, "but why not set aside the duller matters to celebrate the union of our young couple?"

Everyone raised their glass and toasted to Teddy and Victoire, wishing them luck on their unorthodox, life-changing journey.

Teddy kissed her again for all those looking on, and if he lingered on her lips, neither she nor the others said anything about it.

Teddy's hands were hurting.

His new employment came with excessive case reports. He was a Healer trainee again, which helped him get back on track, career-wise, but St. Mungo's hadn't caught up to the automation charms of the 21st century. Everything was filled out by hand; more than half of his days were spent bent over a desk, scribbling away at doses, treatment plans, and procedures.

He was paired up with his grandfather, Ted Tonks, who was flabbergasted to meet a homeschooled Metamorphmagus his daughter's age. Teddy wanted to request a transfer, but as the hospital board already pulled strings for him, he decided to be nothing but professional in his relationship to his trainer.

It was made worse when Ted insisted his daughter would love to meet Teddy, and Teddy hoped to delay that meeting for as long as possible. As much as it hurt that his father had died, his mother's death stung worse: while he was grateful that his parents gave their lives so he could thrive in a world without terror, Teddy always wondered if, had his mother stayed back, he would've grown up knowing at least one of his parents.

He couldn't bear to look at his mother, after hearing all the stories of how bubbly, talented, and clever she was, only to have a fresh breakdown over all he lost, and the pain she brought to his gran, Andromeda.

Ted mentioned his daughter again a moment before they stepped into the next patient's room, and Teddy forced a polite smile to his face to hide his irritation.

"The patient is presenting with a persistent cough, a green tint to their armpits, and erratic bowel movements," said Ted, nodding at the barely-conscious, moaning wizard in front of him. "Diagnosis, treatment, and prognosis, if you please."

"The early stages of dragon pox," Teddy replied instantly. "Gorsemoor's cure to start. If effective, continue as prescribed, with an excellent survival rate. If ineffective, treat with the Healer's advanced brew, bed rest, and cooling suppositories. Prognosis is more complicated and can be given after three days' monitoring."

"Outstanding as usual, Howell." Ted grinned and gestured to the cupboards. "I'll have you measure the dose for Gorsemoor's cure."

Teddy waved his wand over the sick wizard and got a set of measurements. He set a charm to calculate the dose and measured out a three-step regimen. Ted watched him and nodded approvingly, writing the instructions and treatment plan in the wizard's file.

"We're running low on Gorsemoor's and Pain Relief," said Teddy, once Ted finished his signature with a flourish. "We'll need more before the Mediwitch comes to refill this afternoon. D'you mind if I run down to the potions lab? It's a good idea to know the staff."

"Very good indeed. Today or tomorrow, the new hires will be there, so you'll get the chance to meet others your age. I'm sure your wife would like to meet new people here."

Ted offered a jovial smile and Teddy hoped his grimace was close enough to a polite response. Teddy wanted friends, and he suspected Victoire did as well, but they hoped to make Muggle friends, ones who wouldn't have gone to school with their parents. He needed the potions for his sick patient, however, so he trudged down to the potions lab.

He'd already visited a few times in his first week on the job, but today it was bustling with activity. New hires were there and eager to see an unfamiliar face.

"Hello," Teddy said nervously, walking up to the closest station. Madam Duffey, one of the Potions masters, stood there with a fresh-faced, first-year Mediwitch who Teddy hadn't seen before.

"Healer . . . Howell," Madam Duffey said, looking down at Teddy's trainee emblem and name badge. "What do you need?"

"Gorsemoor's cure and Pain Relief for the patient in room 202, please. I'll bring them up myself—poor man's going to need another dose in an hour."

"Miss Winger will help you." Duffey nodded at the young Mediwitch, who had Teddy follow her to the storeroom.

"Your hair's pink," said Winger, pointing up at Teddy's head, "it was turquoise before." Her eyes flew open. "Tonks? Is that you?"

Teddy shook his head rapidly and scrunched his nose, returning his hair to turquoise. "No, no, I'm Teddy. Teddy Howell. I'm a Metamorphmagus also. I've heard of . . . Tonks. Her father is my trainer."

Winger's hazel-green eyes flitted to the emblem on Teddy's robes. "How come I don't know you? We're the same age, right?"

"I was homeschooled and I'm 19, just moved to the city. I met the Headmaster once and he let me try on the Sorting Hat. I'd have been a Hufflepuff." It all came out quickly and in a jumble, but Winger smiled kindly at him, making Teddy feel at home.

"You seem like a Hufflepuff. I was a Ravenclaw. That's the house with the highest tower. Our symbol's an eagle."

"And your first name?" he said, regretting the words as soon as a blush came over the Mediwitch's face.

"Evelyn." She stuck out her hand once they got to the storeroom. "It's nice to meet you, Teddy. We should hang out sometime."

"Yes, you and me and . . . my wife," Teddy added awkwardly, seeing Winger's face fall. "She's French," he added, as the Mediwitch backed away with a disgusted, affronted look in her eyes.

Teddy didn't understand what to make of the strange conversation until later, when he told Victoire, who graciously told him that it sounded as if he wanted to invite the Mediwitch to a threesome, and that if harassment charges were brought against him, she'd march down to the hospital herself to explain that Teddy was simply an idiot.

"Ow!"

"Do it again!"

"My name is Scorpius Malf—ACK! Your turn, your turn!"

"I'm Albus Severus Po—OW!"

"Again!"

"I'm Albus Sev—OUCH! That one was bloody—"

"That's enough, boys," Teddy scolded, cutting Al off. "You're giving me a headache."

"They're only having fun," said Victoire, tossing each of the boys a box of jelly beans. "And they know that if they keep telling the truth, it'll be worse than those tiny stings."

Teddy threw his head back onto a filthy pillow. His hands were covered in ink, both from the workday and from an afternoon of signing a lifetime of truths away.

Sirius, Al, Victoire, Scorpius, and Teddy were forced to sign lengthy, magical non-disclosure agreements in lieu of the Unbreakable Vow. It was unethical to subject children to the Vow, and as the magical agreement could inflict immediate punishment if the contents were disclosed, the boys would know if they veered towards the truth. They were fascinated by the little, invisible stings they felt when they divulged the truth, but as they continued in the background, the stings got more painful.

They had the good sense to stop when their skin was raw and pink from rubbing at invisible sting marks.

In addition to all the paperwork they filled out that evening, Teddy and Victoire continued the open warfare on Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place and its ancient house elf.

Two days ago, Teddy found the locket horcrux and told Kreacher to keep it somewhere safe until it was destroyed. The elf was offended to be receiving orders from his new 'shifty master,' but complied as Teddy promised to help with Master Regulus's final order. Sirius threw a fit when he found out about the horcruxes, aghast that Dumbledore had once planned to have Harry destroy them. After a sloppy afternoon of drinking and raging against the Headmaster, Sirius agreed to listen to Teddy's memories and Dumbledore's suggestions.

Victoire, unsurprisingly, hadn't known about the horcruxes. It was something that Teddy was privy to, based on his learning to become a Healer. When he asked Harry if he knew anything about them, the whole history came out. Victoire was disgusted that such magic could exist and vowed to help young Harry.

Teddy got Dumbledore to agree that the four of them, Sirius, Victoire, Teddy, and Dumbledore—and the four of them only—would take care of the horcruxes. Sirius didn't know about the horcrux inside Harry, and once he'd seen how angry Sirius became over everything relating to Harry's poor welfare, Teddy and Dumbledore decided to keep the Harry horcrux information to themselves for now.

Sirius was somewhat placated with a job offer. He would start as the History of Magic professor in September, to keep an eye on Harry, Al, and Scorpius. Harry would need just as much supervision as Al and Scorpius: Harry, for being Harry Potter, and Al and Scorpius, for being time travelers. Teddy thought that non-interference would be a better option, to ensure that Al and Scorpius's births weren't prevented, which Dumbledore partially agreed with, while Sirius wanted to get rid of troubles right away and get to know his godson.

However, the changes were worrying all of them.

Teddy saw the same issue that Dumbledore did: all the little things that happened in Harry's first few years led to who he had to become to give his life willingly and come back from the dead. Part of that would be subjecting him to the ordeal with Voldemort's blood and resurrection ritual. Teddy didn't want his godfather to go through that agony again, but being tethered to Voldemort was the only way he could come back. It left him feeling wretched and helpless, much like everything else made him feel lately.

Only Al and Scorpius seemed to be truly enjoying themselves. They had their moments; at 11, they both got homesick and missed their families. They were beginning to act and fight like brothers, with the little squabbles that they'd get in and out of as time went on. But as they had each other in this shared, harrowing experience, they weren't alone. Nor did they have to contend with the same realities that Teddy did; neither of them knew the full account of the war, horcruxes, or the horrors that awaited them. In the meantime, they joked, played Exploding Snap, ate mountains of sweets, and acted like other 11-year-old boys.

"Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Bean?" Victoire offered, holding a white bean out for him.

Teddy popped it on his tongue and smiled. "Coconut."

"How was work today?"

"The witches won't talk to me but the lads will," Teddy said flatly. "Word gets around."

"I'll have to visit you sometime." Victoire poked Teddy in the side to make room for her on the giant armchair, as the boys had taken the settee for their sweets, and all other seats were broken or haunted. "I'll tell the girls it was all a terrible misunderstanding. I don't like to share."

Teddy's cheeks burned as she grinned at him. It would help to have the Mediwitches on his side; they practically ran the hospital and could make his life harder than it already was.

"Maybe you can come tomorrow?" Teddy suggested lightly, rubbing his fingertip into the scratchy fabric of the armchair. "Will you be free for lunch?"

"I should be. The DRCMC's a joke. It's all propaganda and no one's taking me seriously because I'm 'French.'" Victoire shook her head and huffed in frustration. "It's 'your English is so good!' and 'good thing you're married or I'd—'"

"—or they'd what?" Teddy said, harsher than he intended.

"The usual vile things. Maman said it was like this when she was young and I didn't believe her. We're so lucky we grew up when we did. I've heard this sort of thing before, but it's never been so brazen."

Teddy clenched his jaw. "Why don't I take you into work tomorrow?"

Victoire smiled at him. "So they'll know I've got a big, strong husband who'll defend my honor?"

Teddy looked down at his frame. He wasn't burly or stocky like some men, but he wasn't gangly or stringy like others. He was tall like his father—six feet, two inches—and had a decent jawline. If he wasn't a Metamorphmagus, he thought he'd be thoroughly forgettable in both looks and build. It hadn't helped that the pictures he had of his parents were imperfect; his mother had almost no pictures in which she was in her 'natural' state, so Teddy had no clue what she really looked like, while his father's face was lined prematurely, obscuring what he might've looked like without the lycanthropy. Neither of them were unattractive, thought Teddy, but they weren't like Victoire's parents.

"Oh! That reminds me!" Victoire reached into her rucksack and pulled out a thick envelope. "Look!"

Teddy gazed down at the pictures from their wedding. They made an odd little crowd, Teddy, Victoire, and the others, but there were a few pictures that he thought were rather nice.

"We both look good in this one," Victoire said, pointing to a picture of Teddy standing in front of the Ministry fountain, with Victoire leaning on him and reaching up to kiss his cheek. "I'm going to frame it and put it on my desk."

Teddy handed it to her and found another picture he liked better. It was of the two of them. They faced the camera, holding hands, and smiled.

"That one's nice too, but it shows that tear I accidentally got in my dress."

"Can you frame this one for me?" asked Teddy. "I've got a cubicle and I want to put it there."

Victoire promised she would. They'd got closer on the armchair, their limbs intertwining as they relaxed, and Teddy noticed it wouldn't take much to maneuver her so she'd rest her head in his lap.

BLECH.

Scorpius and Albus chose that moment to start a burping contest. Victoire sat up, sniffed the air disdainfully, and declared it was time for a hot shower.

Teddy threw a bean at each of the boys' heads and stormed down to the kitchen to prepare dinner.