Teddy Through Time

"Neville and Professor Flitwick are both hurt, but Madam Pomfrey says they’ll be all right. And a Death Eater’s dead, he got hit by a Killing Curse that huge blond one was firing off everywhere — Harry, if we hadn’t had your Felix potion, I think we’d all have been killed, but everything seemed to just miss us —”
They had reached the hospital wing. Pushing open the doors, Harry saw Neville lying, apparently asleep, in a bed near the entrance. Ron, Hermione, Luna, Tonks, Teddy and Lupin were clustered around another bed farther down the ward. At the sound of the doors opening, they all looked up. Hermione ran to Harry and hugged him; Lupin stepped forward too, his face taut with concern.
In contrast, Teddy stepped back, his expression riddled with guilt.
“Are you all right, Harry?”
“I’m fine. How’s Bill?”
Nobody answered. Harry looked over Hermione’s shoulder and saw an unrecognisable face lying on Bill’s pillow, so badly slashed and torn it was almost grotesque. Madam Pomfrey was dabbing at his wounds with a pungent, green ointment. Harry recalled how Snape had healed Malfoy’s Sectumsempra wounds with effortless flicks of his wand.
“Can’t you fix them with a charm or something?” he asked the matron.
“No charm will work on these,” said Madam Pomfrey. “I’ve tried everything I know, but there is no cure for werewolf bites.”
“But he wasn’t bitten at the full moon,” said Ron, who was staring into his brother’s face as though sheer will might mend it.
“Greyback hadn’t transformed, so surely Bill won’t be a — a real —?”
He looked uncertainly at Lupin.
“No, I don’t think that Bill will be a true werewolf,” said Lupin. “But that doesn’t mean there won’t be some contamination. Those are cursed wounds. They’re unlikely ever to heal completely, and — and Bill might exhibit some wolfish characteristics from now on.”
“We have Teddy to thank,” Lupin added, glancing toward him. “He’s the one who leapt on Greyback and drove him away from Bill… Who knows what he prevented from happening…”
Lupin looked at Teddy and stepped toward him.
“You’re bleeding!” he cried, noticing a trail of blood trickling from Teddy’s sleeve down his arm.
“I couldn’t save Bill. In my time, Bill was injured too — but he lived,” Teddy said quietly.
Lupin moved closer, trying to pull up Teddy’s sleeve to inspect the wound. “Was this Greyback?” he demanded, voice sharp.
“It’s fine, it’s just a scratch,” Teddy replied.
It resembled a strange sort of scuffle-meets-dance, as Lupin struggled to roll up Teddy’s sleeve, while Teddy fought back, pushing him away and tugging it back down.
“It’s not deep, I swear,” said Teddy.
“You knew this was going to happen?” Ron asked accusingly.
“Ron, even if he did, he couldn’t have stopped it. You saw how he fought Greyback — he barely managed to pull him off Bill, and still Bill got hurt,” said Hermione.
“Dumbledore might know something that’d work, though,” Ron said. “Where is he? Bill fought those maniacs on Dumbledore’s orders, Dumbledore owes him, he can’t leave him in this state —”
“Ron — Dumbledore’s dead,” said Ginny.
Lupin froze, his grip still on Teddy’s sleeve. “No!” He looked wildly from Ginny to Harry, as though hoping Harry might contradict her — but when he didn’t, Lupin collapsed into the chair beside Bill’s bed, burying his face in his hands.
Teddy, who had been scuffling with him only moments earlier, now laid a hand gently on his shoulders in comfort.
Harry had never seen Lupin lose control before; it felt like intruding on something deeply private.

Within his thoughts, Teddy felt — as he had once with phoenix song — that the music was within him, not around him. It was his grief, transformed into melody, echoing through the grounds and castle windows. How long they stood there, listening, he could not say. Nor why it seemed to ease their sorrow to hear it — but it did.

At long last, the doors creaked open once more and Professor McGonagall entered the ward. Like the rest, she bore signs of the recent battle — scratches on her face, robes torn.
“Molly and Arthur are on their way,” she announced, and the spell of the music was broken. Everyone stirred as though waking from a dream, turning again to Bill or rubbing their eyes and shaking their heads.

At the mention of Molly and Arthur, Teddy tried to flee — but his legs failed him. He didn’t want to see their eyes. He didn’t want them to know he could have prevented the attack, but hadn’t. He didn’t want them to find out he had known about Bill’s permanent injury and hadn’t been there for him… for them.
They had always welcomed him as one of their own — son, grandson — no matter the time.
He noticed eyes on him.
“You knew my brother would be hurt,” Ron said.
“And you knew Dumbledore would be murdered by Snape!” Harry added.
“I tried to save Bill! Albus didn’t even know I’d snuck into Hogwarts,” Teddy pleaded. “And I warned him! He knew what was coming, but he refused to listen. He was angry I tried to interfere with fate — with time.”
“Leave him alone,” said Lupin. His voice held a threat Harry hadn’t heard before, and it brought back memories of Christmas.

“And Severus…” Teddy pleaded.
“Snape,” repeated McGonagall faintly, sinking into a chair. “We all wondered… but he trusted… always… Snape… I can’t believe it…”
“Snape was a highly accomplished Occlumens,” said Lupin, his voice uncharacteristically cold. “We always knew that.”

Teddy stood motionless, absorbing the flood of words as if from underwater. Guilt surged through him. Everyone else’s voices blurred into a meaningless buzz, and he retreated inside himself.
Why did I come back, if I can’t interfere? he thought.
He was ashamed — the shame pouring from his chest in invisible waves — and he feared someone would see straight through him.
He had known this night would come. He had known what would happen. Why had he let Bill get hurt?
He wished he could vanish — return through the glowing orb that had brought him here, to this year. Bill had always been there for him — a mentor, a model of the man he wanted to become.
As a child who constantly changed his shape, Teddy had never cared how Bill looked, had accepted the scars as though they had always been there. Bill had helped him countless times — and when Bill had needed him most, he had failed.

“We were in trouble, we were losing,” said Tonks in a low voice. “Then Teddy appeared — thank Merlin he did. He fought brilliantly. Took down a Death Eater I hadn’t even seen, tackled Greyback, and stunned Gibbon. Gibbon died from one of the Death Eaters’ own curses.”
Teddy seemed to stir from a trance at the sound of his name. He looked around at the others, their expressions a mixture of gratitude and distaste.
“Most of us wouldn’t be standing here if you hadn’t been there,” said Lupin warmly.
Teddy nodded. He didn’t want to speak, couldn’t find the will to argue. None of them would understand his anguish.
Not even the moment he had dreamt of — his parents proud of his duelling, protecting him, admiring him — stirred his heart now.

The doors to the hospital wing banged open, and they all jumped. Mr and Mrs Weasley strode up the ward, Fleur trailing behind, her beautiful face stricken.
“Molly — Arthur —” Professor McGonagall stood quickly and went to meet them.
“I am so sorry —”
“Bill,” whispered Mrs Weasley, darting past her as she saw her son’s ruined face. “Oh, Bill!”
Lupin, Tonks and Teddy stepped back hastily to give them space. Mrs Weasley bent over Bill and kissed his bloodied brow.
“You said Greyback attacked him?” Mr Weasley asked, distracted. “But he hadn’t transformed? So what does that mean? What will happen to Bill?”
“We don’t yet know,” said McGonagall helplessly, glancing at Lupin.
“There will probably be some contamination, Arthur,” said Lupin. “It’s a strange case, perhaps unique… We don’t know what his behaviour will be when he wakes…”

“He’ll be all right…” Teddy stepped forward, head bowed, unable to meet their eyes. “I thought this time, maybe I could save him — but I failed. His face… those scars won’t heal. Werewolf bites are cursed with dark magic. Bill will always look like this now… But in Greyback’s human form, there isn’t much venom. It won’t affect his behaviour drastically. He won’t become a werewolf. He might crave raw meat, that’s all. The condition isn’t hereditary, Fleur — there’s nothing to worry about…”
Mrs Weasley took the foul-smelling ointment from Madam Pomfrey and gently dabbed at Bill’s wounds.

“And Dumbledore…” said Mr Weasley. “Minerva, is it true… is he really—?”
As Professor McGonagall nodded, Harry felt Ginny stir beside him. He looked at her. Her eyes, narrowed slightly, were fixed on Fleur, who stared down at Bill with a frozen expression.
“Dumbledore gone,” whispered Mr Weasley. But Mrs Weasley only had eyes for her son, tears falling onto his disfigured face.
“Of course, it doesn’t matter how he looks… It’s not r-really important… but he was a very handsome little b-boy… always very handsome… and he was g-going to be married!”
“And what do you mean by zat?” Fleur said suddenly and loudly.
“What do you mean, ‘e was going to be married?”
Mrs Weasley lifted her tear-stained face, startled. “Well — only that —”
“You theenk Bill will not wish to marry me anymore?” demanded Fleur. “You theenk, because of these bites, he will not love me?”
“No, that’s not what I —”
“Because ‘e will!” said Fleur, drawing herself to her full height, her long mane of silver hair flying back.
“It would take more zan a werewolf to stop Bill loving me!”
“Well, yes, I’m sure,” said Mrs Weasley, “but I thought perhaps — given how — how he —”
“You thought I would not weesh to marry him? Or per’aps, you hoped?” said Fleur, nostrils flaring. “What do I care how he looks? I am good-looking enough for both of us, I theenk! All these scars show is zat my husband is brave! And I shall do zat!” she added fiercely, pushing Mrs Weasley aside and snatching the ointment from her.
Mrs Weasley fell back against her husband and watched as Fleur began tending Bill’s wounds, her expression unreadable.

Nobody said a word. Harry didn’t dare move — but he noticed Teddy, watching Lupin with a glint in his eye. Were those tears? Harry couldn’t be sure.
Like everyone else, he waited for the explosion. But as silence deepened, Harry became more and more aware of Teddy.
He looked at Ginny, still glaring at Fleur — and realised he was the only one noticing Teddy, who was watching Lupin, who was watching Tonks, who was watching Lupin back.
They seemed to be having a wordless conversation, and Teddy was eavesdropping with his eyes. He couldn’t quite place what made it all feel so strange.

“You see!” said a strained voice. Tonks was glaring at Lupin. “She still wants to marry him, even though he’s been bitten! She doesn’t care!”
“It’s different,” said Lupin, barely moving his lips, suddenly tense. “Bill will not be a full werewolf. The cases are completely —”
“But I don’t care either, I don’t care!” said Tonks, seizing the front of Lupin’s robes and shaking them.
“I’ve told you a million times—”
And the meaning of Tonks’s Patronus and her mouse-coloured hair, and the reason she had come running to Dumbledore when she’d heard someone had been attacked by Greyback, all became clear to Harry: it hadn’t been Sirius that Tonks had loved, after all.
“And I’ve told you a million times,” said Lupin, refusing to meet her gaze, staring at the floor, “that I am too old for you, too poor… too dangerous…”

Harry noticed Teddy suddenly lean against one of the beds, gazing at two very specific witches and wizards… and on his face was a smile of admiration.

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