Hogsmeade
Chapter 6: Hogsmeade
Saturday, April 11th, 2014:
Teddy could spend 30 years trapped in a library, forced to sleep between the stacks on piles of old paperbacks, with nothing to do but read and write and brood to pass the time, and still not properly be able to put into words how bloody fucking horrendous his hangover is this morning.
As soon as he opens his eyes, it greets him like an earthquake. How he’s even alive with what feels like a cavalry sword through his head is a wonder on its own. He’ll forever be cursing the higher power responsible for waking him up this morning, he’s decided.
His stomach swirls and lurches with the sheer movement of his thoughts, as if trying to build up the momentum to throw him back in bed should he actually muster the strength to stand.
Worst of all, it was a bit cold.
He lets out an audible groan as he finally opens his eyes, seeing his dormmates in an almost identical situation. Identical, save for George, who at some point in the night drunkenly fell out of bed in favour of sleeping off the alcohol curled up on the floor.
Swinging his feet over the side of the bed –oh Godric, that was far too much movement for his taste– Teddy brings his hands up to his face to try and rub some sort of comfort into the space under his eyes.
He is dying. No. Worse. He’s dead, and this is Hell.
He stiffly turns to check the clock above his bed and sees that it reads a quarter past nine. Oh fuck, they’re gonna be late. Then again, they’ve never been late to a Hogsmeade trip, so they don’t really know the possible consequences, if there are even any to begin with. Would they still be allowed to go? Do they even want to go? Many questions, all of them requiring too much thought for him to answer at the moment.
As much as Teddy wants to blow it off altogether, ideally in favour of digging himself a nice hole to lie in, he remembers that Gran’s coming to visit today. She’d never forgive him for missing a chance to visit with her,especially since this is the first time she’s ever asked him to meet in Hogsmeade. She also likely wouldn’t let him live down being late. Though they never set an official time, Teddy expects she’ll probably be arriving pretty soon.
Merlin, life is bleak at sixteen.
In a fit of grumbles and internal whinging, he finds it in himself to stand up. That, in itself, is accomplishment enough for the day, if only due to the shivering pangs in his chest that come up to greet him. One vertebra slumped over the next, he drags himself over to Colin’s bed, finding his friend crumpled up in a rather unattractive tangle of limbs and bedsheets. The bed is so dishevelled and unkempt that it looks like he got in a fight with the curtains. One he must have lost pretty severely.
Teddy collapses into Colin's bed, lying alongside him and trying to stare at the blank, unconscious expression on his face hard enough to wake him through thoughts alone. He’d speak, shout, or even give a half-decent rendition of Just Like Heaven to wake Colin on a regular morning. Today, though, he feels like shit, life is meaningless, and if he opened his mouth again in the next five minutes he can’t guarantee that he wouldn’t spew rather graphically, completely ruining his friend’s bedspread in the process.
Instead of that very unfortunate image that Teddy now has in his head, he decides to bring up his hand to jab at Colin’s cheek, letting out a weak, murmuring sound to accompany it. Colin doesn’t even react, oblivious to Teddy’s finger quite literally being jammed into his face.
It takes about a solid minute of bothering before Colin stirs, his face scrunching together in annoyance before even opening his eyes. He doesn’t flinch when the first thing he sees is Teddy, his friend staring back at him with a pale, sickly expression that likely mirrored his own to a T.
“Alright?” Colin asks sleepily, giving Teddy a small smile. This moment of peace for him quickly ends, immediately screwing his eyes shut with a curse as he brings the heel of his palm to his temple. There it is. The classic end to the grace period of sleep before the hangover swoops in to rob you blind. Quite evil, how it works, isn’t it?
Teddy lets out an unintelligible hum in response, trying to convey a message somewhere in between at least I’m not dead and if I gave you a couple galleons, would you do me the honour of murdering me in cold blood and putting an end to this ceaseless torment? Considering the inflection of the sound he makes, Teddy thinks he did a pretty good job of saying just that.
“That bad, yeah?” Colin replies, rolling onto his back lazily and taking a deep breath. After a moment of getting his bearings, something Teddy is envious he’s even able to attempt right now, he sits up and tries to scrub the sleep out of his eyes.
“Right, well, better head out soon. Don’t want to keep Gran waiting, now, do we?” Colin mutters, trying his best to slip a cheery tone into his words. He sounds like he’s even trying to convince himself, talking like he’s not already gearing them all up for an utterly painful morning. With that, he stands up, his resolve visibly crumbling as soon as gravity starts to work against him. Padding over to the bathroom, a slight stumble in his walk, he slips through the door and quietly clicks it closed behind him. A moment or two later, Teddy hears the shower begin to run.
Well, if Colin is already showing signs of life, Teddy decides he might as well start getting ready as well. Or, at least, rallying the rest of the troops.
Teddy rolls himself out of Colin’s bed, taking several breaks intermittently to take deep breaths and pray to whatever is holy for a moment of peace. Bracing himself on one of the bed posters, he pulls himself up sluggishly and trods over to his next victim.
He finds Eric sleeping peacefully in his bed, no evidence of the madness from the night before to be found. Instead, he looks rather cosy tucked into the blankets laid on top of him. How is it that, even in his sleep, he is the most put-together of them all from last night? It’s just plain unfair. It was Teddy’s birthday, for Merlin’s sake, and yet he still has to spend the morning after enduring the aggressive symptoms of his body repenting for the crimes committed by one too many goblets of Witches’ Brew.
Driven by exhaustion and a touch of jealousy, he leans over his friend’s sleeping form and begins to shake him rather vigorously, the motion likely doing far more harm to Teddy himself than to Eric at the moment. He quickly stops after it starts to feel like his brain is rattling in his skull.
Luckily, that was enough to pull Eric out of his beauty sleep, his eyes blinking open slowly to find the dark and stormy cloud of Teddy Lupin looming over him. His face instantly warms and his mouth cracks into a sluggish grin as he looks at his friend. His arms stretch above his head from where he lays on the bed, waking graciously without a hint of green behind the rose of his cheeks.
“Morning, sunshine. Slept like shit, I imagine?” He teases. Teddy doesn’t have the willpower to even appear in good spirits, so he gives out another indignant grunt in response.
“Oi, cheer up, will you? You’ll feel better after a spot of breakfast,” he continues, carrying the conversation perfectly fine on his own. Settling quickly into his morning, he rips up the blanket and practically leaps out of bed.
The mere sight of all that movement is making Teddy dangerously dizzy, a feeling he’s already gone far past his quota for the day.
Eric looks down from where he’s standing to see George still fitfully curled into himself, sleeping spitefully through the shivers that wrack through him from time to time. Teddy watches in an ill-clouded haze as Eric nudges the boy on the floor with a soft kick.
George groggily scrunches his face in response, clutching harder where he’s pulling his legs to his chest and mumbling out something incoherent. Teddy gets it. He’d curl up on the floor, too, if he wasn’t already running late.
“What was that, mate? Kinda hard to hear you from all the way down there.” Eric says playfully, tilting his head to the side as he looks down at his friend.
“...Leave me here to die…” George groans into his knee just loud enough for them to decipher. With the light pouring in from the far window, he slowly pulls the collar of his shirt over his face, settling in once again to try to fall back asleep.
“Oh no you don’t, Georgey. I know for a fact you told Tilly last night that you’d meet her at the Three Broomsticks at 10:30, so this is for your own good. Get up, get dressed, and brush your teeth, for Godric’s sake, or you’ll never get to snog her again!” Eric chuckles as he chastises George, repeatedly tapping his foot on the shin of the boy below him to try to rouse him.
“Fuck, you’re right,” George croaks out, still giving no sign of moving from his spot on the cold hardwood. Now that Teddy thinks of it, he’s kind of envious of him, the floor likely being just cool enough to soothe the rings of heat running under his skin. Maybe if Teddy just joined him…
“Always am,” Eric quips light-heartedly, pulling out his wand with a smile on his face. “Now, you have about two and a half seconds to get your arse up before we do this the hard way.”
George still stays stuck to the floor, either already asleep again or not buying into Eric’s bluff. Then again, Eric never bluffs, so that’s definitely an oversight on his part.
Eric’s voice lowers to a whisper as he leans over to Teddy. “Might wanna step back, yeah?”
He winks at him and his smile grows absolutely devious, very excited for what torture he’s about to subject one of his best friends to, it seems. Teddy has now decided that he’s mad at Eric for being immune to the trials and tribulations of the teenage hangover, especially now that standing has started to catch up to him a bit, making his brain feel a bit like hot porridge at the moment. Still, Teddy does as he’s told, albeit out of fear of being in the splash zone of whatever’s about to go down.
Eric flicks his wand without hesitation, his words quick and wrapped around the grin resting on his face.
“Aguamenti!”
Teddy doesn’t even have time to let out a gasp before a long stream of (rather refreshing-looking) water bursts out of the tip of Eric’s wand, instantly seeping into every inch of fabric and soaking every hair on George’s head, leaving him drenched before he can even flinch.
The pure storm of thrashing limbs and shouts that explode up from George has an even wider blast radius than the water itself, making Eric and Teddy leap back quickly in surprise. George shoots up to a standing position, settling a few seconds later once the initial shock dies down. Now, he just stands there, water falling off him in intermittent drops, staring back at his two friends with a look of fury and utter betrayal.
“Really, Eric? You didn’t even count!” George says sternly, his chest rising and falling quickly from the burst of adrenaline.
Eric gives him a shrug in response, acting none the wiser to the puddle quickly forming on the hardwood.
“I got bored.”
Between Eric and the look on George’s face, Teddy lets out a laugh for the first time since he woke up, forgetting the hangover altogether for a short moment. Except, the sound almost instantly curdles into a soft hiss, rattling his brain and bringing him right back to his stomach and head in their perpetual fight to the death. A fight to his death, to be specific.
Eric eyes Teddy with a look of exasperation as he wallows in pain, rolling his eyes with an amused smile on his face. “You lot are the most dramatic group of tossers I have ever met, and I’ve met myself,” Eric tuts, shaking his head slowly as he crosses his arms.
“We’re dramatic?” George scoffs. “You’re the one who just tried to drown me for sleeping an extra minute!”
Teddy finally finds the strength to speak up, the bad taste in his mouth rolling around his slowly formed words. “Yeah, how did you even know that spell? We don’t learn those kinds of summoning charms until next year.”
Eric looks over at Teddy, giving him an off-handed shrug. “I dunno. Sometimes when I’m bored I just flip through spellbooks and see which ones I can do.”
He motions over to George’s dripping frame, not even turning his head. “That happened to be one of them.”
The realisation hits Teddy with a thud and brings a smirk to his face, part of him revelling in the fact that he and Eric fall into similar habits. The thought of them being in the same spaces at different times comforts him a bit. Who knows, maybe they can compete with it one day, try to race to see how many spells the other can cast in the span of five minutes.
As he opens his mouth to say just that, Colin bursts through the door with a wide smile on his face and a towel pulled tightly around his waist. By the way he can bear to even stand up straight, Teddy assumes the shower must have done wonders for the hangover he was nursing only moments ago. Steam pours out from the bathroom doorway as Colin pads over to the chest at the end of his bed, making quick work of pulling it open and sorting through the clothes that lay inside.
The room is silent, save the small drops of water that continue to fall off of George’s frame, hitting the hardwood with a sharp drip. After a beat, Colin looks at them expectantly, tapping his wrist like he’s gesturing a watch as his own way of telling them to hurry up because they’re late.
Teddy and Eric take that as enough of a cue to follow his lead and walk over to their own trunks, sorting through their clothes to start getting ready for the day as well. Teddy takes about two seconds to decide on an outfit, not having brought a lot of muggle clothes to Hogwarts with him in the first place (it was the first thing to go once his record collection took up too much space).
Outfit in hand, he looks up and sees George still standing in the same spot, looking properly dead to the world. With the way his eyes seem to be glazed over as he stares at his own trunk, Teddy thinks George likely has it worse than any of them in the hangover department this morning. It makes him feel sorry for the guy really, especially considering Colin’s rather ruthless history with how he approaches the hangovers of his friends. Eric’s watery alarm clock was nothing compared to the shit Colin has put them all through for the sake of “powering through the hangover.” After his own birthday, who else but him would make them all walk down to the quidditch pitch bright and early to watch Hufflepuff practice in the name of “fresh air” and “nature.” The only nature they saw that day was Fiona Grimley break an arm 10 metres away from them, and Eric subsequently vomiting as soon as he saw it.
Colin sighs, pity and disappointment coming off of him in waves.
“George, if you aren’t dry and changed by the time the rest of us are ready, I swear to Godric I’ll tell Tilly about the time you pissed yourself during our first flying lesson.”
With an irritated grumble, George bolts towards the bathroom door and slams it shut behind him. With a quick look tossed between Teddy and his friends, they instantly start rushing to get ready, an unspoken race already beginning. From the bathroom, the occasional curse or mention of Colin’s name can still be made out through the closed door as they all scurry to finish first.
***
A few minutes later, they find themselves standing outside the very same portrait they were stationed in front of last night, the only things missing between then and now being the feathered nighty and the blissful absence of pain and suffering. Teddy doesn’t even know how they managed to stumble back over to Gryffindor tower in the first place, feeling like he blinked once when he was crossing through the common room and came to standing at the top of the staircase.
Yet, here they are, staring intently back at the scowling expression of the Fat Lady in the painting, the group shrouded in rather tense silence. They all seem afraid to speak first, the memory of last night's unfortunate encounter with the woman seeming to float over the threshold like a poltergeist, and not a particularly nice one either.
“Um, hello again,” George tries. “I suppose you aren’t willing to let bygones be bygones, are you?” He puts on a nervous smile and gives a timid wave to the painted lady.
As she eyes the boys in front of her, she gives a loud huff of disapproval in return, clearly one to hold a grudge. She deliberately turns her back to them, not giving them another moment of her attention. Well, so much for that idea.
“Well now what do we do? It’s not like we can just pop in to grab Vic anymore, at least not after George decided to harass every painting on this side of the castle!” Eric groans, flailing a hand in George’s direction.
“Well, I’msorry that I stick up for my friends! You lot should be thanking me, for Christ’s sake– Also, why are we shouting? Feels like I'm having a conversation with a bloody mandrake,” George grumbles, massaging his temples with his fingertips. Poor sod. After all the running around it took to get here on time, he looks even paler than he did when he woke up. Then again, Teddy doesn’t have much room for pity when his brain feels like it's rejecting his skull.
“We could just wait for someone to come out?” Colin suggests, giving everyone a shrug. As the sensible one, he most likely had a point. Teddy also isn’t really in a state to weigh his options, so he slumps against the cold stone of the bannister and murmurs some sort of sound he hopes his friends will take as agreement.
“Alright, but I’m giving it ten minutes and then I’m tearing that god-forsaken thing off its bloody hinges,” George says bitterly, slipping to the floor of the landing and curling up against the stone brick that surrounds the Fat Lady’s painting.
So, that’s precisely what they do. They sit and stand and slouch in respective silence, Teddy keeping time to the throbbing behind his eyelids. At least the cold of the stone is doing wonders for him at the moment, keeping at bay the hot flashes that run up and down his spine like a quidditch pitch. If anything, it makes things a little less terrible as they wait.
Thankfully, they don't have to wait very long. After a moment or two, the door swings open and shoves George out of the way in a jumbled heap as two girls begin to step out.
Teddy looks up and thanks Godric it’s someone he knows. Geraldine Sadiq and Sarah Leonne walk out of the threshold of the door in their muggle clothes, stopping mid-conversation as they notice the group of boys hanging around on the other side. They’re pretty good friends of Victoire’s, so hopefully they’ll know if she’s already left or not. Teddy is praying that she hasn’t, or else they would’ve been waiting on the stairs like idiots for the past five minutes for no reason at all.
“No offence, boys, but you lot look positively ghastly this morning! Too much Witches’ Brew?” Geraldine asks, looking them up and down as if surveying the damage.
George lets out a gritted groan in response, sliding up from his spot on the ground. “Please don’t say Witches’ Brew.”
She tuts softly as she looks at George’s frail figure. “Thought so.”
Sarah takes a step towards Teddy, eyes narrowed at him as if sizing him up. “Sorry to disappoint, but if you’re looking for Vic, she’s not coming. She’s sick as a dog. ‘Could barely even form the words to say she wasn’t coming to Hogsmeade without blowing chunks,” she explains, grimacing at the thought. Her expression turns into a scowl as she looks back at Teddy. “She never got this sick after a party before you two started going ‘round together. I’m starting to think you’re a bad influence on her, Lupin.”
Teddy waves off her concern with a limp gesture. “I really admire your concern, Sarah, but I promise you it was not my idea for any of us to get that drunk last night.”
“Hmph,” Sarah huffs at him, clearly not convinced. Teddy can’t blame her, though. Victoire got back to the Gryffindor common room in quite the state, if he remembers it all correctly. Must have been an absolute nightmare for her dormmates to deal with this morning. He actually feels a bit guilty about that, now that he thinks about it. He could’ve stayed with her in the common room after he tucked her in, at least for an hour or two until he knew she would be alright. The feeling sends a twinge through his ribs, making him exhale sharply in an attempt to shrug it off.
“You sure we can’t come in and try to rally her? She’s not one to miss a chance to see Ted’s Gran,” Colin asks, taking a slight step towards the doorway in an attempt to get through.
Geraldine stops him with a hand held up firmly in front of her, letting out a surprised scoff as she looks around at the boys.
“Um, absolutely not. You’ll only make things worse! She’s not going anywhere.”
Sarah hums in agreement and crosses her arms at them, standing up straighter in the doorway with a defiantly-raised chin.
They were usually much nicer than this to them, or at least they were to Teddy. They even tag along with Victoire to breakfast from time to time, coming by for a quick chat or to steal some spare bits of toast when their part of the Gryffindor table runs dry. Victoire’s hangover must be really doing a number on them all, if it’s got them in such a foul mood. Or maybe they’re both feeling a bit under the weather themselves and are too proud to admit it. Teddy definitely remembers seeing them last night, after all, and they certainly didn’t seem to be as self-righteously sober then as they are now.
Either way, he’s sure they’ll be back to friendly terms once they all get a bit of time to recuperate. A Hogsmeade trip after a party is enough to test even the strongest of spirits.
“Well, in that case, we better get moving, then,” Eric says, letting out a sigh of defeat as he spins on his heel back towards the stairs below.
They all say their goodbyes to the girls before following Eric down the stairs. Teddy and George lag a little behind, plodding down the steps with pale faces and disheartened expressions all the way to the entrance hall. On the bright side, with the cold from the bannister already doing its part to sooth his feverish skin, maybe Colin was right about the fresh air being good for a hangover. It couldn’t hurt to try it, and Godric knows they could use the help.
***
Okay, why the absolute fuck is there snow on the ground in April? Scotland was truly some sort of man-made terror created solely to make Teddy freeze his goddamn ears off. Isn’t spring supposed to be nice and fruitful and at least semi-fucking-temperate? According to the crunching of old snow under their feet, apparently not.
Teddy is in a bad mood. The fact has become increasingly unavoidable as the morning drags on, it seems. It started with the hangover, which was already a recipe for utter bloody disaster. Then, they didn’t even have time to grab a slice of toast for breakfast from The Great Hall, leaving Teddy eternally damned to be tired, nauseous, and hungry. Except, the final nail in the shit storm of a coffin is the cold. The second they stepped outside he swore he could feel his lifespan shorten by a few good years. Now that part is where Teddy just got annoyed. He walked by some first years trying to make a snowman and nearly set it on fire.
So what if he’s dramatic? It’s cold. He’s hungover. It’s allowed.
Though, on the bright side, they are finally almost there. Thank Godric for that, really, because Teddy was beginning to think he wouldn’t even make it the full way. He started picturing his friends, leaving his body amongst the permafrost, mourning his loss over a butterbeer or two. Hagrid would probably find his body eventually, though, and he wouldn’t want to put the big guy through all of that, so he kept walking.
Shaking him from his inner monologue, as if by divine intervention, Teddy feels a sudden pool of warmth spill onto his back, bleeding through him like warm honey as it spreads down to his arms, his legs, the back of his neck. He feels the tension he’s been carrying all morning slowly splinter off into bits and pieces– still there, but lighter. Sweet Merlin, he needed that.
He looks around to see Eric walking close behind him, wand pointed at him with hints of concentration flashing across his expression. The soft heat continues to pour over Teddy’s skin, overflowing from where Eric’s wand was pointed at his back.
“You seemed like you needed it, mate,” Eric tries matter-of-factly. “You looked like you were going to start flinging curses if no one did anything.”
“Cheers.” Teddy thanks. After all, Eric’s not wrong. There was in fact the chance of a curse or two being thrown if he hadn’t interfered.
With Teddy’s feet feeling lighter than they have all morning, he and his friends keep walking, Eric dropping his wand after another minute or two. After that, the cold doesn’t even hit as hard, the thought of Hogsmeade keeping him warm enough for the final stretch.
As they trudge the last mile through the snow, the rows and swirls of frosted roofs begin to take up the landscape in front of them, the streets glowing a faint orange from the lit torches mounted outside each house. Seeing the commotion of students and townspeople wandering among the streets, they all seem to visibly perk up at the same time, their walking pace speeding up a bit without a word between them. With each step they take towards Hogsmeade, the remaining complaints in Teddy’s head slowly melt into memories: the back table in the Three Broomsticks, mental shopping lists of chocolate frogs and some cauldron cakes, the self-inking quills Victoire likes so much.
They cross the town border and George instantly darts towards The Three Broomsticks, throwing some offhanded comment back to his friends about being late. That seems to quickly shift the group dynamic, with Eric soon following close behind, probably trying to get to Honeydukes before it opens.
Every Hogsmeade weekend, Eric has the insatiable habit of terrorizing the shopkeep (who may or may not be the Honeyduke, but Teddy has never asked out of fear of looking stupid), badgering them with questions about their next shipment of droobles or yelling a business proposal at them for a sister location sourced in the Hogwarts dungeons. As far as Teddy has been informed, nothing has changed on that front since their third year. They always get their droobles in on the first Thursday of the month and there will be absolutely no franchising of the Honeydukes name, especially not in a dungeon, which Teddy thinks is more than fair.
In a matter of seconds, it’s only him and Colin left, walking in stride through the flow of students and conversations that pass them by. Yellow and black scarves wrapped tightly around their necks, they hook their arms together on the way to find Gran.
The morning air is cold enough that Teddy can see the huff of air that he lets out with each breath. He hopes Gran is okay. He knows how much she dislikes the cold.
“Where do you ‘spose she is, anyways?” Colin asks, his ears practically perked up in his fit of impatient excitement.
“I dunno, really. You think she’d already be at The Three Broomsticks? Or maybe Madam Puddifoot’s, she always makes me bring home a box of earl grey for her.” Teddy rambles, still deciding which one would be best. Secretly, he hopes she’s already at The Three Broomsticks, if only for the sake of not having to walk any further.
Their prayers are answered in the form of the ringing of a door chime. A little bit ahead of them, the tinny jingle resounds through the streets as a short figure shuffles out the door of Dervish and Banges. The figure, turning left towards the boys, quickly starts down High Street in the direction of The Three Broomsticks. As they get closer, Teddy could finally make out the curled, silvery hair and heavy, black cloak. Without a second glance, he knows it’s his Gran.
Seeing her instantly pulls his mouth into a huge grin. The subtle pangs of homesickness that Teddy had grown used to the past few months begin to shrivel up at the mere sight of her, like a piece of home coming to visit.
He and Colin quickly pick up the pace, setting into a light jog as they go to meet Gran in the middle. The exact instant they lock eyes catches in her expression like the spark of a match, the smile that comes over her instantly spreading a warm comfort throughout the expanse of snow-lined footprints that sprawl between them.
Teddy doesn’t even need to say hello, closing the distance quickly enough to wrap his Gran into a tight hug before she can even get a word out. She hugs him back with the same fervour, although her grip is a tad weaker, these days.
“I missed you, Gran,” is all he says, his face tucked into her shoulder like he’s a little kid again. It only takes one look at her and suddenly he’s right back where he was when he was eleven, begging her to teach him magic from home so he wouldn’t have to go to Hogwarts and leave her all alone in their big old house.
“Oh, my darling boy,” she coos back to him, bringing up a small hand to rub his back in large circles.
It’s strange to have her here in Hogsmeade, mere metres away from the spot where he and Colin accidentally dropped their bag of “weather in a bottle”s third-year. They had caused a suspiciously focused storm so severe that three shops had to close down for the rest of the day. Teddy had to downright beg Ron, who of course happened to be working the shop that day, to not tell Harry (who would’ve automatically told his Gran). No one else knows what happened that day, not even Eric and George, and Teddy certainly intends to keep it that way.
When they finally separate, Colin immediately takes the opportunity to swoop in and take his place, also giving Gran a hug like she was his own flesh and blood.
“Hello, Gran! How’s it been?”
“Oh, just fine, Colin, dear. It’s almost tomato season,” she responds warmly as they part, “so I’m enjoying the calm before the storm.”
“I can set up the cages for you if you ever need the help! Soon as exams are finished, you both know where my fireplace is.”
Teddy can’t believe how quickly Colin can go from snogging half of Gryffindor last night to chatting about gardening with his grandmother, someone he’s not even related to, without getting whiplash. He’s genuinely sixteen going on seventy-eight. Then again, he’s almost as comfortable with Gran as Teddy is, which isn’t really surprising after all the school holidays he’s spent with them since first year.
Colin isn’t too close to his own family, something he never really likes to elaborate on without at least a drink or two in his system. In all of their years of being friends, Teddy still doesn’t know exactly why. All he really knows is not to ask about it. Instead, he invites Colin over for Christmas, his Gran always making sure to put out a stocking for him to open with Teddy in the morning. And, when Colin shows up on their doorstep late at night, instead of asking why, he simply sets up a bed on the floor next to his, the only words out of his mouth to tell him where they keep the spare toothbrushes and to tell him goodnight.
Essentially, Colin is part of their family, at least whenever he needs them. Now that Teddy thinks of it, that’s probably why he holds Gran in such high esteem, always willing to help in the garden or start the washing up after he stays for dinner.
Her eyes crinkle at his offer. “I just might take you up on that, soon. Don’t go around making empty promises to an old lady.”
“Never!” Colin assures with a chuckle.
As the air settles around them with the conversation fading out, Gran turns over to Teddy, a quirk settling into her eyebrow as she looks up at his hair.
“Interesting colour you chose for today. Any particular reason?” She asks carefully, a slight twitch to her lips as she unsuccessfully tries to hide a knowing smirk.
Oh fuck. He didn’t even look in the mirror to check this morning. Did his friends really not say anything? None of them thought to mention it before he barrelled headfirst down the road to Hogsmeade? She’ll never let him live it down if he doesn’t play it off, but he also literally cannot lie to his Gran. He’s tried, believe him, but it always ends in him becoming a stammering, stumbling mess trying to sew together a convoluted story with too many holes to count.
Better to just play it cool.
“Oh! This?” He asks, voice a tad too high-pitched, grabbing a lock of his hair and pulling it down to reach in front of his eyes. It’s a dark, almost brownish green, with the occasional bright, sickly emerald strand suspiciously resembling the colour of Witches’ Brew. Perfect. That’s what he gets for wanting to have a bloody fountain at his birthday party.
“Yeah, just thought I’d try something new, you know? Tired of the same old same old. Green is all the rage right now, Gran. Especially amongst the Slytherins, to no one’s surprise. I’m shocked you haven’t seen any other students with it. It’s hard to miss.” Teddy rambles, having no idea what he’s saying by the end of it. Sometimes his head just shut down and just thinks keep talking and, rather stupidly, he listens to himself and doesn’t stop until the entire room is looking at him with a pity so complex that Teddy couldn’t fully describe it if he tried. It’s hard living life with a brain that’s constantly trying to make him suffer. Yet, by some miracle, he’s still alive and kicking enough to dig himself into a hole so deep that soon enough he’ll be breathing in dirt between sputtered excuses.
She looks at him utterly unconvinced, pulling him into less of a staring contest and more of a glaring battle of wits, one of which he is not equipped to win.
“I’ve taken care of you for sixteen years, love. You think I don’t know what colour your hair turns when you’re feeling ill?”
Teddy instantly deflates, his wits left absolutely slaughtered and forced to succumb to the cold snow that crunches under his shifting feet.
Her mouth quirks up into a wry smile, the scolding look on her face melting into something teasing and light-hearted. “I take it you boys had fun celebrating last night?”
Colin cracks into a grin, not able to help himself. Quickly remembering himself, he coughs and clears his throat, as if trying to bring himself back to the present. “Um, yes, Gran. Loads of fun. Not too much, of course. Just a casual, healthy amount of fun.”
“Yes, I’m sure.” Gran replies slowly as her eyes shift between the two boys in front of her.
“–Thanks for the gift, by the way! It’s absolutely wicked, I must say.” Teddy tries in an attempt to change the subject. He would love to keep the unspoken agreement they’ve recently developed intact, at the very least the part where they both decided to specifically not talk about these kinds of things. If he had to explain the fact that he was egregiously hungover to his Gran right now, he doesn’t think either of them could survive it.
“Speaking of, where are the others? I never got to properly thank that George boy for his help with everything.” Gran asks, thankfully willing to drop the previous line of questioning altogether. She looks over the two boys’ shoulders, as if checking to see if they were hiding someone behind them.
Luckily, Colin wastes no time taking advantage of the distraction and runs with it, clearly having the same idea as him.
“Unfortunately, they’ve been utterly charmed by the guiles of girls and business propositions, so I’m afraid they won’t be joining us today.” Colin muses dramatically, a hand over his heart in feigned memoriam.
Gran hums back pensively. “It’s bound to happen at some time or another, I suppose. Except for you boys, of course. I don’t want to hear a whisper of any girls or business propositions from either of you. That would mean you’re growing up, and we certainly can’t have that.”
Both boys chuckle in harmony and give out their half-hearted promises to assure Gran. It’s sort of pointless, since she already knows all about Victoire, but it’s fun to appease her from time to time. For Colin, though, Teddy supposes he found a loophole with Sebastian, which is both hilarious and incredibly unfair.
“Don’t you worry, Gran, I won’t be so easily pulled into that stuff as your grandson here,” Colin says, shooting a jeering smile in Teddy’s direction.
“No, he most certainly won’t.” Teddy says with a playful clap on his friend’s shoulder, trying his best not to break out into cackles. Colin’s eyes turn to look a him, smile never leaving his face, and stare absolute daggers at him, only making it harder not to laugh.
Teddy can practically hear the argument they have in his head. Not that that’s any different from any other day. The reason so many people comment on how they get along so well is because no one else is ever there to witness the absolute brawl going on in the looks they shoot at each other like vicious curses. They prefer to fight on what they consider the astral realm. Certainly makes cleanup a fair lot easier.
With the misleading quiet that has quickly settled over them, Gran obliviously takes it as an opportunity to starting walking, turning and slowly shuffling down the road towards The Three Broomsticks. Right now, as the two boys follow dutifully behind her, the nonverbal jousting match between them goes as follows:
Colin wastes no time to practically yell at him with his eyes, to which Teddy shoots back a telling smirk. Colin’s face instantly reddens in reply, his eyes widening faintly. Teddy holds his gaze and raises an eyebrow playfully. As Colin glares back, the corner of his mouth twitches, like a smirk he can’t seem to hide. Teddy narrows his eyes just barely in return, grin unwavering.
Putting the conversation to rest, Colin looks slowly to the side, as if disguising a roll of his eyes for a quick glance.
Yet, in Teddy’s mind, a rough translation of what is said goes more along the lines of:
Oh you are cruel for that one, you fucking dickhead. I snogged him once!
We both know it was more than once.
–Regardless, that was uncalled for.
Ok, but was it not funny? You can’t deny it was pretty funny.
I can and I will.
Then why are you smiling, huh? Could it be you’re trying not to laugh at the downright amazing joke your best mate just made at your expense?
Ok, fuck you, first of all. Second of all, shut up. Me laughing does not justify pulling that out in front of Gran, of all people.
Oh yes, it absolutely does.
In the short moments they took to exchange silent jabs and insults, they end with Colin in a resentful surrender and Teddy feeling more triumphant than he has all morning. People can say what they want about being a sore winner, but he can already feel his hangover being replaced by smug satisfaction.
If Gran notices the massacre of Colin’s dignity that just occurred, she makes no comment on it. Instead, she just has an extra bit of warmth in her expression, her smile widening slightly as she looks at them.
“Well, thank Merlin for that,” she settles on with a chuckle.
“Now, which one of you fine gentlemen are going to open the door for your Gran? The cold is already doing a number on my hands.”
Both boys happily join Gran on both sides without a word, hooking arms with her as they match her pace all the way to The Three Broomsticks.
***
The moment they step into the pub, gentle warmth washes over them in waves. It almost feels like Teddy’s bones are thawing out with how quickly the stiffness in his limbs dissolves into nothing, leaving the three of them visibly relieved as they stand there in the doorway.
Teddy looks around and finds that the place is absolutely packed. No surprise, really, since it is a Hogsmeade weekend, after all. That and the cold will probably keep this place overflowing right up until closing, or at least until all of the students need to head back to the castle in a few hours. Though, the sight in front of him, however chaotic and overwhelming, brings a bright smile to his face.
He must admit, he really does love coming to Hogsmeade, no matter how terrible the hangover. He just enjoys the comfort of it all. The warmth after walking in the cold, the light of the torches bouncing off the walls, even the eerie sight of the Hog’s Head gets him a bit giddy. And being able to share that with his Gran? That makes it all the more enjoyable. Then again, he hopes this doesn’t become a regular thing. It would be mortifying if his Gran ever saw him hungover like that again. That, and taking Victoire on dates to Madam Puddifoot’s would be quite difficult with Gran always reaching over for another lump of sugar for her tea.
The smile on his face quickly dies when Teddy realises that there are absolutely no tables left to sit at. Even if the bar was an option, which it most definitely would be agony for Gran’s back, that part seems to be full as well, some students even resigning to standing with casks of butterbeer in small clusters around the row of occupied stools. Well, that puts a bit of a snag in the original plan, Teddy gathers. Maybe they could just go pop in somewhere else for a round of tea or something. Not ideal, but better than squashing themselves amongst the standing room.
A voice rises above the idle chatter of the pub as a quick shout from the other end of the room draws their attention. “Ted! Colin! Over here!”
The three of them turn their heads in the direction of the voice. As he scans the crowd, Teddy’s eye catches on George waving his arms frantically from where he’s standing on his chair. His face is bright and flushed from what Teddy can see, his comically wide smile matching the haphazard sweeping of his arms. There’s a very fine line between getting someone’s attention and causing a scene. A line George appears to be determined to test today.
“George Dumas, I’ll not tell you ‘gain! No standing on the furniture!” A woman’s voice bellows out from the bar. The bite in her tone comes out a bit scary, meaning George is definitely pushing his luck so far today.
George couldn’t scurry to the ground quick enough at the sound of the woman’s scolding, almost falling on top of the girl he was sitting next to. Looking a little closer, Teddy sees it is in fact, as expected, Tilly Grayn, who’s currently laughing herself to tears as she watches George scramble onto the floor.
“Sorry, Madam Rosmerta!” George calls back with a hand raised in apology. Noticing Tilly still in a fit of giggles, he turns to her and sticks his tongue out, proving to only make her laugh with a newfound enthusiasm.
Teddy spots Madam Rosmerta from her place behind the bar shaking her head in reply. Regardless of all the laughter about, she most certainly does not look amused. The fact that he and his friends have such a reputation around the village has recently become vaguely concerning to him, for the most part thanks to George.
The thing is, when Madam Rosmerta remembers your name, it’s usually not for anything good. At this rate, he wonders if they’ll even be allowed within the town borders by the time they’re seventh-years.
Teddy starts walking to George’s table with Colin and his Gran in tow, adopting a quicker pace in hopes to prevent anything else that could possibly get them thrown out before they are even able to reach the table. After all, it only takes a matter of seconds for Teddy and his friends to get into something unsavoury on a good day.
As they approach the swirling grain of the table, George beams up at them with an affectionate pride, beckoning to the empty chairs next to him. His gaze reaches over Teddy’s shoulder and his face instantly switches to astonishment, eyebrows reaching high up on his forehead.
“Oh my god, is this Gran?” he asks, gawking at Gran where she stands behind Teddy. He bolts up from his seat and quickly skirts around the table to meet them where they are standing clumped together. Grabbing her hand, he shakes it heartily with jerking movements, his expression fixed with a smile draped over the hints of nervousness.
Gran, clearly being caught off guard with his abrasiveness, returns the gesture shakily. She holds his hand how someone grabs onto a portkey, worried where she might go flying should she let go too early.
“Erm, yes. George, I presume? Lovely to finally meet you, dear.”
“I’d sure hope so!” He agrees. He drops her hand in favour of frantic gesturing while he speaks, punctuating his sentences with twists and waves of his hands as he tries to shape and decode the words that spill out of his mouth. “Let me tell you, Gran, your record collection is absolutely wicked. Well, from what you’ve told me in your letters, it is. I never thought you’d be the type to keep The Bends on the top shelf! Absolutely brilliant, you are!”
“Yes, well, thank you, George. I’ve been a fan since long before you boys were born. I was waiting in line at the record shop the day it was released!” She smiles warmly as she teases him, her eyes crinkling as if adjusting to George in front of her.
“I just hope Ted here has the decency to finally have me ‘round this summer so we can go over what to add to the iPod for round two!”
“Round two? I haven’t even had the chance to use it, yet.” Teddy pipes in. He appreciates the effort and all, but at this point it’s becoming more of a present for George than him. Not that he minds all that much, though, since the songs they’ve put on so far are quite literally perfect.
“Regardless,” Gran says, “it would be lovely to have you over sometime during the summer holiday. Now, shall we find our seats? I’m afraid the cold does quite a number on my knees, these days.”
They all mutter their agreements and begin to find a seat. Before Teddy can grab a chair he leads Gran over to the end of the table, somewhere farthest from the door so she won’t get caught in the draft as much. As soon as she’s settled, Teddy sits down between her and Colin and breathes a sigh of relief. It feels nothing short of amazing to finally be sitting down, comfortably warm after that agonising hour of trudging through the snow. And with the idea of a butterbeer in front of him in the near future, he just might tear up.
George quickly goes back to his place next to Tilly, walking with an excited bounce in his step. He flops back into his seat with a loud creak of the wooden chair underneath him, and starts his conversation right back up with the girl next to him. Considering how quickly they slip back into their affectionate bickering, that’s probably what they’ve been at all morning.
Teddy smiles as he watches them, happy George finally managed to talk to Tilly outside the confines of a potions classroom. It was only a matter of time, of course, but their mutual pining was becoming downright painful to look at. Every moment in class that they weren’t arguing over who did what between them they spent passing notes and giggling like lunatics. It had gotten so distracting at one point that Asher Fortezza from Slytherin resorted to spiking their distending potion with sparking solution in an attempt to finally shut them up. Unfortunately, the only thing the unstable (and now that Teddy thinks about it, quite dangerous) mixture did was make their entire cauldron erupt into bubbles and foam. The worst part is that it only made things worse. George wasted no time fashioning a scruffy beard out of the bubbles and doing his best Hagrid impression, Tilly practically bursting at the seams as she cackled at him. Teddy doesn’t think anyone in that class was able to concentrate much in the weeks after, they were so obnoxious with their audible swooning over each other. With them finally able to take their longings elsewhere, it was really just as good for the rest of the class as it was for the two of them.
Teddy notices only five seats among them at the table, the rest of the chairs being squeezed into other tables or huddled together in makeshift circles of patrons as everyone tries to get warm. It’s strange, though, because that means there won’t be any room for…
“Where’s Eric?” Teddy asks, looking around the pub to see if he’d gone off to grab a drink or something of the sort. Certainly not like him to miss a trip to the Three Broomsticks.
“I dunno really, last I saw, he was caught up in a proper shouting match with Mr. Honeyduke. Something about branding rights…” George replies absent-mindedly.
Tilly finally addresses the group for the first time, taking time away from holding George’s attention to lean both elbows on top of the table they’re gathered around. “Yeah, it was starting to all get a bit ugly once they threatened to ban Eric from the store, so we thought it best to get out of there before the kid set the mallow moths loose in retaliation.”
As Tilly giggles at the thought, Gran turns to her in surprise, as if just taking in her presence at the table. Teddy doesn’t think they’ve met before, actually, with her being a particularly new addition to their inner circle. She greets Tilly with a polite smile. “I don’t believe we’ve met. You must be…?”
“Oh, bollocks! Sorry, Gran,” George sputters out, sitting up straight from where he was leaning towards Tilly, pushing his chair back from her’s a few inches. “This is Tilly! She’s my…” He stops at the last part, his eyes darting between them as he tries to find the proper word. His expression quickly turns to Teddy in a cry for help, stuck between a rock and a separate, larger rock whose only goal is to absolutely mortify him. He looks like he’s about to break a sweat, for Merlin’s sake. It’s truly too brutal to watch.
Thankfully, Tilly stands politely and leans across the table with an outstretched hand, simultaneously greeting Gran and saving poor George’s life. Quite the tactful one, she is, but Teddy supposes that’s all within the Slytherin name. She gives Gran a pleasant smile as she reaches out, George’s face visibly relaxing as he goes to take a swig from his half-empty butterbeer.
Tilly looked quite nice today, Teddy realised, if not slightly different from her usual style. Not in any sort of better or worse way, of course, just different. The usual small stars or hearts she drew on her cheekbones were gone today, replaced with a soft blush across the high points of her complexion. She also forgoed her usual muggle clothes, always bright dresses and fishnets and loud patterns, instead wearing a burnt orange sweater, cable-knit like an old man’s would be. Funny how even without the strawberry-shaped earrings or the spiked boots she still manages to look so bloody cool. Teddy supposes cool people don’t really have to try hard to look cool, now that he thinks about it. It’s a wonder George managed to grab her attention, yet it feels like something perfectly deserved.
“Hello, Gran, it’s wonderful to meet you. I’m Tilly Grayn, George’s girlfriend.”
George immediately chokes on his swig of butterbeer, throwing himself forward in a sudden fit of coughs. The pint glass in his hand hits the table with a thud as he braces a hand on the table, trying pointlessly to ground himself between wheezes. He quickly starts slamming his fist into his chest, like he’s trying to clear his lungs with sheer force as he hacks away.
Colin, thankfully taking pity on the poor sod, quickly scoots his chair over to George with a sharp squeak. Face unchanging, he whacks George with a harsh thump square in the back, making the boy’s fit of coughs swell into a loud hiccup before settling entirely. George is left with red-rimmed eyes and his knuckles still white from his grip on the table, the sound of him catching his breath resounding with everyone at the table staring at him in silence. The bloke can’t really catch a break, now, can he?
“Cheers, mate,” George gasps out between breaths.
“Anytime,” Colin replies without looking back at him.
Teddy looks back over to his Gran to find her fighting a smile, her eyes going between George and Tilly with a look of amusement.
“Right,” George says finally, extending his arm over to Tilly on his left. “This is Tilly, my… girlfriend?”
He says the last bit as more of a question, looking over to Tilly with a hopeful glint in his eyes. They share a rather intense stare for a split second before her smile brightens and she simply nods back to him, motioning for him to continue. He visibly perks up, as if the past few seconds never happened, and carries on looking positively ecstatic.
“Wicked,” he says with a smirk.
Good Godric, this is painful to watch. Is this what Victoire and Teddy look like when they’re together? In that case, he apologises to the entirety of Hogwarts for being forced to witness something like this every day.
“Welp, that was lovely, wasn’t it?” Colin says sarcastically as he pushes himself up from the table. “Onto more important matters, though. Butterbeer, anyone?”
Thank Muggle Jesus for Colin Pristley.
“Godric, yes, I thought you’d never ask,” Teddy sighs. He looks over to his Gran to see her equally as relieved. Sexual tension really knows how to suck the energy out of the room, sometimes.
“Gran? One for you as well, I presume?” Teddy asks, fishing in his jacket pocket for a spare sickle or two to give to Colin. This is, of course, an act, since he knows very well Gran wouldn’t dare let him pay for something. Still, it makes her smile when he offers, so he always makes a big show of it.
“Why yes, that would be lovely, but you better get that hand out of your pocket if you know what’s good for you. I’m certainly capable enough to pay for a round of butterbeer.” Gran chastises him with a sharp look. Thankfully, there’s no heat to be found in it as Teddy stands up to join Colin. Though it would be hilarious to watch his friend struggle to balance all of their mugs with two hands, he’d much rather the drinks make their way to the table without any casualties.
Gran hands them a few coins and the two boys make their way over to Madam Rosmerta at the bar. Teddy specifically loves these instances when the two of them are in a group, the inevitable moment when they’re out of earshot of everyone else and can start going back and forth on everything that they had been forced to keep as looks and glances for the past hour.
“You are such a prick! I mean, bringing up the Sebastian thing in front of Gran of all people. I haven’t even been out for a full twenty-four hours before you’re ready to go blabbing to all of Hogsmeade!” Colin says with a punch to Teddy’s arm. He looks like he surely wants to be mad, but the smile he’s trying to hide isn’t doing much to help with that. It makes Teddy let out a surprised laugh just from the look on his face.
“As I’ve said countless times, I would rather die than miss the opportunity for a well-timed joke.” Teddy shoots back, playfully shoving his friend’s shoulder as they walk.
“Keep it up and you’ll be dead, Lupin, I swear to Merlin!”
“Is that a threat? I thought you were supposed to be the reasonable one of this duo.” Teddy scoffs.
“Oh, I’m not talking about me,” Colin starts, looking purposefully away from Teddy. He looks as if he’s mulling over a thought in his head, a sneer growing on his lips. “But, wouldn’t it be a shame if Gran somehow found out about all of the time you’ve been spending with Vic in the astronomy tower… I’m sure she wouldn’t even hesitate. I probably wouldn’t even get the opportunity to throw a curse in before she’s already dug your grave.”
Teddy narrows his eyes into slits, staring dulled daggers into the side of Colin’s head. “You conniving bastard. You’d betray me so quickly? I thought we had some good times, you and I. I thought there was a semblance of trust between us. Seems like that’s all just been thrown in the bin, now!” Teddy continues with his dramatic musings, carelessly grabbing the attention of a few of the surrounding patrons.
“I’ll have to go ‘round looking for a new best friend, putting out flyers like some pratt looking for his lost dog!”
Colin hums thoughtfully. “I’ve heard there’s a good spot for pinning up flyers over by Scrivenshaft’s, if you need somewhere to start. Although, you wound me by demoting me to just the title of ‘friend’. Have the past five years of spending the holidays at your house meant nothing to you?” No longer bothering to try to hide his toothy grin, he beams at him through the back and forth between them.
“Wounded?” Teddy mocks, laughter already threatening to bubble up from the back of his throat. “Why, Seb not enough for you anymore? In that case, I’d have a lot of explaining to do with Victoire.”
“Like you could afford me.” Colin quips back, his expression hardening into a dry look of scorn. He locks eyes with the boy across from him, wordlessly challenging him to crack first under the pressure. Though Teddy is not one to back down from a competition, he always loses at these. He can already feel his lips quiver the longer Colin fixes him with that stupid fucking stare that should not be that funny in the first place.
Teddy swings an arm around Colin’s shoulders as they both finally break, dissolving into a fit of giggles as they double over at their place at the bar. Well, they double over as much as they can with how packed it is. It’s more of a one-and-a-half over, if anything.
Soon enough, they get their bearings enough for Teddy to stand up straight again. Finally able to look over the bar, he nearly jumps at the sight of Madam Rosmerta glaring at them with uncertain disdain. Fair enough, since they’ve spent that past good bit of time disturbing the peace without so much as a drink in their hands. Still, her icy stare is startling, nonetheless.
He clears his throat awkwardly and nudges Colin in the ribs, hoping they can get their shit together enough to make it back with the butterbeers intact.
“–Ahem. Um, hi. Five butterbeers.” Teddy asks meekly. In return, her gaze only twitches to look between him and Colin uneasily. Teddy, for one, had thought they looked exceptionally charming today, dark circles and pale complexions aside. Apparently, he was wrong.
The woman across the bar gives an audible huff, leaning closer to speak through the mob of voices carrying throughout the room.
He leans closer in turn, trying on a smile through the unease of meeting her stare.
“...Please?”
Adults are quite scary sometimes, aren’t they? Especially Madam Rosmerta. One bad turn with her and you’re stuck peering longfully through the Three Broomsticks window, freezing your eyelids off as all of your friends enjoy butterbeers without you. Then again, if George does happen to get banned for life, they could probably figure out some sort of system to pass him a mug through the back door or something like that.
“Have you got a fifth hand to carry ‘em? I don’t want to have to go around cleaning up after you boys with all of the traffic we’ve got in here today,” Madam Rosmerta asks. Why she’s singling them out now of all times, Teddy has no idea. He’s pretty sure he saw a kid balancing at least seven of those things by themselves just a few minutes ago. Double standards are most certainly not good for business, if you ask him.
“Must have left the fifth one at home,” Teddy says with a disingenuous grimace. “But, I’m sure we’ll manage.” He ends his statement with the most persuasive smile he can muster. Considering the fact that he’s not very good at being persuasive in the first place, this could really go either way.
As if acting as an answer to his unspoken question, Madam Rosmerta was most certainly not buying it, her expression still fixed into a tight upper lip. Not terribly surprising, but still a little damaging to Teddy’s pride.
Luckily, she deems it necessary to put an end to this unpleasant exchange with a dismissive “alright, I’ll be right back,” saving Colin from inevitably having to step in. Teddy usually turns to him in circumstances like this, especially when his tendency to rely on snarky comments worsens when provoked.
“Lovely,” Teddy finishes with a smile, turning back to Colin at his side. The boy in question, clearly and utterly distracted, is busy looking off towards the other side of the pub, focusing intently on one of the far-off tables.
As Teddy follows his gaze, he notices a table of Gryffindors that seems to be particularly lively. One that just so happens to include none other than Sebastian Alvarez himself, chatting away with his friends with a wide grin. Oh, Teddy thinks, so that’s what we’re doing now.
“Something caught your eye?” Teddy asks with a jab to Colin’s ribs, ripping the boy next to him out of his haze quickly enough to make him jump in surprise. Colin looks back at him with a scowl, likely not appreciating the moment he’s had to spend not oogling over the boy in the corner. Teddy mentally rolls his eyes at him. Teenagers.
He sighs as Colin doesn’t respond, stealing another glance towards Sebastian. “Maybe you should try actually talking to him instead of longing from across the pub? I’m pretty sure all the lust you're throwing to that side of the room is enough to cause a draft.”
Colin groans as he smacks Teddy on the arm. “Don’t mock me! I’m suffering.”
“Yeah,” Teddy huffs out, “suffering in complete silence. Maybe you could just pretend to run into him when he gets up to leave, or start a conversation about the weather. I don’t know! The worst thing he could do is reject you, which I find hardly bloody likely, seeing as he’s already snogged your face off.”
Teddy gets hit again for that last bit. Fair enough.
“Yes, you’re right, he absolutely could reject me. We were both completely plastered last night. There’s no telling if he even remembers it,” Colin rambles, eyes still fixed on the far-off table. He often gets nervous about things like this, Teddy’s realised. Except this is the first time it’s actually real, in a way. All the other times Colin’s showed any sort of interest, it’s always been from afar, usually towards someone he’s never even spoken to before. No wonder he’s nervous.
“If he enjoyed himself half as much as you did, I’m sure he’ll remember,” Teddy reassures, trying to be both genuine and slip in one last sly comment about it.
Despite all of the joking, Teddy really does want this to work out in Colin’s favour. He deserves to be happy, no matter the person who happens to help him get there. Besides, Sebastian Alvarez, of all people? The guy is a stunner, no questions about it. If Colin’s going to be queer, It’s only fair that he should still date within his own league.
“Ok, yeah, you’re right, I’ll talk to him. As soon as he gets up to leave, I’ll make some excuse to Gran and strike up a chat. That should work, right? It won’t be weird or anything? You won’t mind if I leave you alone with the others?”
“Yes, that should work, no, it won’t be weird, and yes, I think I can handle Gran and the newlyweds for a while. Go ride off into the sunset.”
Colin rolls his eyes.
“I’m being serious!” He says indignantly.
“Well so am I! We’ll be fine,” Teddy replies, turning back to the bar.
At that same moment, Madam Rosmerta comes back with the butterbeers in tow, two in each hand with the fifth floating sluggishly at her side, following her as she steps back towards the two of them.
“Here you are, boys. Just do me a favour and make sure that friend of yours isn’t getting too much sugar. One wrong move from that one and he’ll burn the bloody place down,” she grumbles, handing off the mugs to the two boys one by one, two for Teddy and one in each hand for Colin. The fifth floats over slowly, stopping to hover a few inches from Teddy’s face. It waits patiently for him to adjust the drinks in his hand long enough to grab the coins Gran gave him out of his jacket pocket. Leaving the cash on the bar, Teddy plucks the mug next to him out of the air and quickly starts back towards the table.
“Cheers!” Teddy calls back with Colin following close behind.
“One day, I hope to master the art of the locomotive charm like old Rosie, over there,” Colin sighs, taking a sip from one of the mugs in his hands as they walk.
“Ah, but that’s what Hogwarts is for! Magical experimentation! Interpersonal collaboration! So, naturally, we can practise by flinging things at George at breakfast tomorrow.”
“Sounds wonderfully educational,” Colin says, the smile from before tugging back at his lips as they approach the rest of the group.
They both reach the table without spilling a drop, thank you very much. Teddy wants to shout a snarky comment back over to the bar, if only just to be a bit of a prick. Except, his group is already two steps away from the blacklist as it is, so he resists the urge in favour of taking his seat and taking a long drink from his butterbeer.
Butterbeer just may be the most consistent thing Teddy has going for him in his life. Well, besides going to a boarding school, having classes with all of his friends every year, Third Eye Blind’s self-titled album, and Victoire. But, at the very least, it’s a close second.
The second it hits his lips, he can feel every ounce of the cold that’s left clinging to his shoulders bubble up and burst into nothing but warm butterscotch. It flows through the rest of his body, rolling down his veins until he feels sickly sweet on the inside. As always, it's perfect. He can feel himself slump back into his chair in relaxed satisfaction, a dopey grin resting on his face to match the froth lining his upper lip.
Teddy looks across the table to see George and Tilly laid back in the same fashion, staring at the mugs in their hands blissfully. Seems like it's been a hard day for all of them with the way a knot of tension seems to unravel itself at the table, leaving everyone in visibly higher spirits than when they woke up. All of them except for Gran, who seems to be having as pleasant a time as ever as she takes small sips from her own mug, a soft look of content resting in her expression.
As a comfortable silence settles over the table, Teddy begins to feel a bit guilty. His Gran came all of this way just to listen to him and his friends breathe heavily in a pub. Though it did seem rather important regardless– what else would have dragged her all the way to Hogsmeade? He had originally hoped that they would have at least had a nice day just the two of them before she was exposed to his friends. He’ll just have to take her around town after this round of butterbeer, if only just to have some time together without his friends hanging around before she has to go back to England. Maybe they can pop over to a bookshop or something.
George seems to have a similar train of thought to Teddy, clearing his throat conspicuously before turning his head towards Gran.
“So, Gran, do you and Teddy have anything planned for his birthday? I wish my family would come by for my sixteenth. Only thing is muggles wouldn’t exactly fit in with the vibe here. A single exploding bonbon would be enough to kill my mum, that’s for sure,” he tries with a light-hearted tone, wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve as he talks.
“Yes, well, it’s not every day your grandson turns sixteen, after all,” Gran replies kindly, barely a dent made in the drink that sits in front of her. “There are some things that are much better suited to be done in person, birthdays especially.”
Everyone at the table grows quiet again. There seems to be a something left unsaid in the room, like a word etched into the old wood of the table that’s too faded to make out. His friends know just as well as him why she’s here, as well as the vague explanation she gave herself. It all just seems very odd, leaving them to sit with everything they don’t know all wrapped up into one moment.
So, of course, George decides to keep talking.
“Birthdays are such a bizarre thing, aren’t they?” He begins to ramble. “You’re slowly dying, so everyone you share a bloodline with comes ‘round to the box of wood you’ve made into a permanent shelter and gives you sweets that, now that I’m thinking of it, only make you die faster in the long run. It’s like-”
“George!” Tilly cuts in, her eyes wide and playing at the hint of a smile, “weren’t we just about to go back to Honeyduke’s?”
The expectant look on her face seemed to pin George to his seat, the rest of his long-winded rant quickly dying in his throat. Thank Godric for that, really. It was getting quite hard to listen to.
“Well, uh, we’ve already been three times this morning, Til,” George says back plainly. He seems completely oblivious to the cues that Tilly was quite literally pelting him in the face with. Instead, he returns her signalled glances with a blank, bewildered expression.
“Yes, well, we have to go back to that section I really like. The one in the back… Where there’s only room for two people… And it’s a bit dark…?” Tilly prompts, raising her eyebrows to even further try to get the message through George’s thick skull. His eyes narrow as he looks back at her, seeming to ponder what she might be referring to.
It takes a few awkward seconds, but eventually his eyes widen into dinner plates, his posture going rigid as a mild blush forms on his cheeks.
“Oh! Yeah! Um, that section. The one… with the extra sugar quills! We should go, definitely, like right now, before they run out!” George shoots up and starts to pull on his coat. He seems absolutely wired, like he can’t get out the door fast enough.
“Hope you don’t mind us leaving on such short notice, Gran,” he says as he rips his scarf out of his bag. “You know us, always in the mood for some sugar quills!”
“Is that what they call it now?” Colin whispers over his shoulder to Teddy, sarcasm cutting like a blade. It rips a few quiet chuckles out of the both of them as they watch George scramble.
Tilly seems to be a lot more graceful at the moment, at least in comparison to George. She gets from her seat and slips on her long, emerald jacket seamlessly. The exasperated look she eyes George with seems to slowly crumble the longer she watches him. It soon makes way for a longing affection that softens her expression, a small smile playing at her mouth as she watches him almost break his chair while frantically wrestling his bag out from under its leg.
“It was lovely to meet you both,” Gran says, fondly, “I hope you know you’re both invited to come visit whenever you’d like this summer, our door is always open.” She nods a warm goodbye to both of them as George finally manages to hook his arm around the strap of his bag.
George and Tilly both tilt back their mugs to the ceiling, finishing off what was left with a few messy gulps and quickly chirping out their goodbyes. As they head for the exit with purpose, George barely has time to wrap his yellow and black scarf around his neck before the door is swung open and they disappear out of view.
Gran looks over at Teddy and Colin with a spark of amusement in her eyes, settling more now that she is around more familiar company.
“You kids are hyperactive these days, aren’t you? I don’t think George sat still once since we got here!” She says with a soft chuckle. “Regardless, they make a lovely couple, those two. That Tilly girl seems nice.”
“Yeah, she–” Colin starts, but the words die in his throat before they can leave his lips. He seems to visibly tune out of the conversation, intensely focused on where he was looking slack-jawed towards the back of the pub. A blush instantly drenches his face, making him look like he just ran a kilometre rather than took a quick walk to the bar.
He quickly begins to gather his things, throwing on his coat in a flourish and downing his butterbeer in the same manner as the couple that had just left. He leaves a small trail of froth on the edge of his mouth, wiping it on the back of his hand before quickly setting the mug back onto the table.
“I should also go, I–uh, need new quills…and ink…and…things…see you guys later! Always a pleasure, Gran, I’ll be ‘round to visit when the holiday starts,” He stammers out as he jams his chair back under the table. He skirts around the table still staring fixedly, planting a quick kiss on Gran’s cheek before scurrying towards the door. Coincidentally, Sebastian just so happens to be walking just a bit ahead of him, his group having just gotten up from their table as well.
In Colin’s defence, Teddy did in fact tell him to do exactly that. He’s just surprised the lovesick fool actually listened to his relationship advice for once.
As Teddy and Gran fall into a comfortable chat, some of the students begin to spill out of the pub, either trailing out from the bar with mentions of Scrivenshaft’s or moaning and groaning about the walk back up to the castle. Soon enough, it feels almost hollow inside, like their voices would echo the next time they speak.
With only a handful of tables left and nothing left to catch up on, Teddy sits across from his Gran and waits for her to start with what she mentioned in her letter. It was only a matter of time before they talked about it, of course, but now that it’s likely here, Teddy finds himself enjoying the last few moments of quiet before the air turns colder.
Gran seems to pick up on his unusually quiet demeanour and gives him a few more moments of peace that he is eternally grateful for. They sit across from each other for some time, taking lazy sips from their mugs and enjoying the warmth of the room before it’s snuffed out by something far more serious.
Who knows? Maybe this impromptu trip and the extra birthday present are both just an excuse for Gran to see Teddy again. It has been since Christmas, after all, so the idea is not entirely unheard of. He’s also turned sixteen, which may have made her want to moment the occasion with a butterbeer and a handful of galleons thrown his way.
Yet, even as it crosses through Teddy’s mind, he knows it’s not true. It’s like he can feel it on the horizon, a sunrise after the sun’s gone out. All that’s left is just a black, absent sky beginning to rise over their heads. No matter how hard Teddy fights it from his creaky, wooden chair, praying it to leave with every drag he takes from the mug in front of him, it still begins to settle on his shoulders. Soon enough, the dread of what’s to come becomes almost physical, scaring away the warmth of the fire and dimming the light of the sconces just enough to make the room feel darker. It hurts already, and he doesn’t even know what it is.
“Alright, I suppose we’ll have to talk about it sooner or later,” Teddy starts, the sound of his own voice cutting through the air and making his stomach swirl. “So, why are you really here, Gran?”
This is the first smile she’s ever given him that doesn't reach her eyes. Like a silent confession, it confirms his fears without so much as a word from her mouth. Her lip twitches as she takes a careful breath.
“Well, my darling, sixteenth birthdays are very important to some people,” she begins cautiously, eyes fixed on Teddy with a calculated look. Each word out of her mouth feels polished and practised, if not already cracked at the edges. “Many people believe it’s when one is ready to see the world, even the scary parts they try so hard to keep from you until then.”
She pauses for a moment and a faint grimace flashes across her expression, as if the words still left in her mouth taste just as foul as they may sound.
“This is one of those things. It’s a gift. One that I could never give you, that no one else could have, but it’s also one that may be hard for you to receive.”
She reaches into the inside pocket of her woollen coat, pulling out an envelope slowly enough that it feels like it may never reach the table.
Sadly, it does. She places it right in front of him, it’s back etched with his name in a rushed, surly script.
Edward Lupin
“Though these things are quite difficult, that doesn’t mean they aren’t important. He made me promise to give you this the day you turned sixteen and not a minute sooner. He wanted to wait until you were ready, but, frankly, I don’t know if there’s ever a time where a teenager could be ready for something like this.”
“He?” Teddy asks, his voice coming out breathless and raw. “Gran, who is this from?”
Her only reply is the sadness in her eyes, looking at him that same way she does when she realises how old he’s getting. Yet, this one is different. It’s deeper, feels more permanent. He looks back at her and feels like she’ll never see him as a kid again. He hates it already, hates this letter before he even opens it. He wants to go back to this morning, miserable and sickly and stupid. At least then, a butterbeer was all he needed. Now, his mug has already gone cold.
When he finally gets his hands on it, he’s afraid to open it. The worn, discoloured edges seem to tell stories he’ll never get to hear. Except, it looks ordinary. Just a letter. Just a pile of parchment and ink with a small bump at the bottom of the envelope. He feels it between his fingers, the indent hard and unyielding, like a small bit of metal.
He swallows roughly, twisting his wrist to flip it onto its back. The only discernible detail besides the rough lettering of his name is the dark violet seal that holds it shut, kept together like Pandora’s Box.
The seal is emblazoned with three swirling letters, looping in and out of each other with delicate lines, an official stamp of initials to sign the letter with. Teddy reads them slowly, mulling each one over in his mouth as he traces them with his finger.
RJL
His mouth goes dry, the silence of the pub filled with the roaring of his ears.
“Gran?” He chokes out. “Is this?”
She nods so slightly that it looks as though she’s barely moved at all, the sadness in her eyes swelling into pity.
He feels like he can’t breathe, like the room has been slowly running out of air this whole time and he was too blind to even realise. He’s been suffocating all of this time and had no idea. He tries to gasp for air but his lungs are already screaming back, his chest shaking with disdain for the bones that hold it so poorly. It shouts and trembles under his throat, and all he can do is brace himself for the impact.
“Darling, you’re shaking,” Gran says, her worry weighing down on his shoulders like a blanket of lead.
He tries to get out something, anything to get her to stop looking at him like that. It saps the last of the energy he has left from him. He doesn’t have the strength to handle the guilt of upsetting her right now. He doesn’t have the strength to handle anything, it feels like.
“Um– I just– water,” He sputters, staring intently at the letters of the seal. Somewhere in his mind a part of him feels like if he looks away it will disappear, the moment dissolving into a terrible memory he’ll wish to return to. He never wants to open it, but eventually, he won’t be able to stop himself from trying.
“Alright, I’ll get you some. Just wait right here, I’ll be back in just a moment,” She gets up quicker than Teddy has seen her move all morning, shuffling over to the bar where Madam Rosmerta was taking in the last of the rush’s orders.
Teddy can’t stay here anymore. It’s too hot, too cold, there’s too much room and not enough air. He wants to crawl under the floorboards and still any trace of a heartbeat someone could use to find him. He has to go, he has to leave, he has to–
When Gran comes back to the table, a cup of water in hand, Teddy is already gone.