Just Between Us
Sunday, April 13th, 2014:
Teddy and Eric filled the rest of the afternoon getting to know parts of the castle they never knew existed. They spent hours crammed in secret passages and stairwells, taunting every painting that they rushed past on the way. From the dungeons to the charms corridor to the grand staircase to the boathouses, the only sounds in the emptied halls were the laughing and excited whispering between the two of them.
It was fun in a way that surprised Teddy, running aimlessly alongside the castle walls he thought he knew so well. Without the Marauder’s Map, he might’ve never seen them for what they truly are, a labyrinth of brick and rampant youth. He found memories in the details, the concealed corridors filled with etches and markings spanning decades. An A + M in a jaggedly carved heart. A hastily written Vance ‘76 with permanent marker.
It made Teddy feel like he was retracing his parents’ steps, in a way–like it was only a matter of time before he saw the marks they left as well. After less than a day past the windows that he’d mistaken for walls, he’s decided that he’ll keep searching until he finds them.
The only time they slowed down was when they finally found themselves staring at the statue of the One-Eyed Witch, her eye fixed on them like she was waiting for them. Teddy hadn’t even realised that he was avoiding it, simply tugging Eric along from corner to corner of the castle with a smile on his face. If Eric noticed how long it took for them to get there, he didn’t mention it. He laughed along with Teddy just the same as they raced each other down the corridors.
Now that they were there, Teddy couldn’t help but falter.
“We don’t have to check out every passage today, if you don’t want to,” Eric prompted gently, still catching the last of his breath. It baffled Teddy how quickly he can flip his expression, the fire behind his eyes simmering until only the warmth remained.
“No. I think I want to go. At least, if you’re still up for it.” Teddy said tentatively. The longer he stood there, the more drawn he felt to the possibility of what lied behind that statue, what messages his dad could’ve etched into the walls for him to find. Besides, that was what he dragged Eric here for in the first place. It was only right that they see it through.
“You know me, Ted. I’m always up for it,” Eric said, swinging an arm around Teddy’s shoulders as they walked up to the One-Eyed Witch together.
Thanks to the map’s meticulous labelling, Teddy came prepared with the password already in the back of his mind. He walked cautiously around to the back of the statue, watching the long curve of the witch’s hunched back. He didn’t exactly know what he was looking for, really. Though, after an awkward moment or two, he decided to just give it his best shot.
With a quick mutter of “dissendium!”, he flicked his wand towards the statue. As soon as it heard the spell, the curve of its back started to slowly collapse into itself, sinking and curling with the fatigued scraping of stone like the stretching of old bones. The statue groaned and shifted like the passage hadn't been opened in decades. When the statue finally stilled, the opening revealed itself to be a small chute. Leading to seemingly nowhere, it looked like it was barely big enough for one person, let alone two teenage boys still wired from their run about the castle.
The whole thing looked rather dodgy, if Teddy’s being honest. He wasn’t even fully confident the both of them were small enough to fit through the slide in the first place, and he wasn’t really fancying the thought of waiting around for Filch to pull them out should disaster strike. Still, he felt unsure in an exciting sort of way, like even stuck in a tunnel he and Eric would have found some way to laugh about it.
After a nervous glance between the two of them, they walked in stride to the chute in front of them. It felt like Teddy was being pulled to it, almost, a tug in his gut growing stronger with each step. He was just about ready to jump in before he caught one look at the excitement in Eric’s eyes. Having no choice but to let him go first, a strange sort of relief washed over him as he watched Eric dive head-first through the chute. It wasn’t as scary with Eric leading the way, he thought, or maybe it was just better to not do it alone.
Following quickly after, all he could hear were their laughs echoing off the narrow stone walls and the whistle of the wind brushing through his hair as they slid down to the darkness below.
***
When they finally hit the dust-covered ground, it was not at all like Teddy had expected. On his way down, he pictured stretches of blazing sconces and technicolour graffiti covering the walls; names, years, and hearts retelling stories and lending life to the tunnel that never left.
Instead, all he got was complete darkness. As he and Eric hit the floor in a tangled heap, he couldn’t even see the boy in front of him, let alone where the passage led. No sconces, no carvings, no hearts, just a cold draft and an uninviting introduction. It’s what he gets for being an optimist for once, he supposed.
He heard Eric shuffle over on his right as he began to stand, the hollow hit of his wand to the floor ringing out as they both got their bearings.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Eric cried, the sound of his hands sliding over the dirt-covered stone in what Teddy assumed to be in search of his wand.
Pulling his own wand out of his pocket, Teddy breathed a short sigh of relief when he realised it somehow survived the fall. “Lumos,” he whispered, keeping his voice soft as if the darkness could be broken by the sound of his voice. As the tip of his wand began to glow, the passage was quickly covered in a pale, bright light.
After Teddy took a moment for his eyes to adjust, he looked down and saw Eric’s wand laying between his feet. Chuckling to himself lightly, he watched his friend crawl around the floor aimlessly for another moment before reaching down to pick it up himself.
“Here you are, mate,” he offered lightly as he held the wand out to Eric.
Eric sighed defeatedly from his place on the ground, standing up to brush off what he could of the dirt that cakes the knees of his trousers.
“Ah, cheers,” he replied, grabbing his wand hastily and lighting it with a quick whisper of an incantation. With the glow of two wandlights, the path was lit up for at least another ten metres, yet the tunnel still seemed to unfurl endlessly into the darkness in front of them.
“Well,” Eric started, letting out a huff and fixing a hopeful smile to his face. “Only one way to go, I ‘spose.”
He took a step forward without hesitation, grabbing Teddy by the wrist to drag him along. As the two of them marched head-first into the dark, all Teddy could think of was how he hadn’t seen a single mark on the wall.
***
After what felt like ages of walking single-file, with only the lights of their wands for comfort, they finally caught sight of the end of the tunnel. It was a sort of soft glow in the distance, one so dim that it was barely visible. Getting in closer, their wandlights revealed a short bit of stairs leading up to the small panel of a trap door, the whole thing only slightly bigger than the entrance to the tunnel itself.
“Well, that looks promising,” Eric said decisively. He flashed Teddy a grin and shuffled up to the door, jostling the handle and pushing up on it roughly. Except, the door didn’t budge, the only sign of movement being the dull creaks of old wood.
If Teddy’s honest, he was tired. They’d been walking for Godric knows how long, only to find a door that wouldn’t bother to even open. It all just left him a bit drained, with the excitement he felt just a few moments ago crumbling into anxiety at the bottom of his stomach. What if they walked all this way for nothing? What if they opened the door and the thing that his father wanted him to find wasn't there anymore?
“Did we really just walk a few kilometres for a locked door?” Teddy asked no one in particular. He was almost relieved it was locked, like they didn’t have to unpack this secret just yet. They could have very well just left all of this there for now. Except, there was still something in the back of his mind that kept him wondering, if only just to get a glimpse.
“I sure hope not. What do you think is behind it, anyways?” Eric wondered out loud. He crouched down as he walked up the rest of the steps to take a look through the keyhole by the circular handle. It was all rather awkwardly arranged, almost as if made in a rush. Even with just a wand light Teddy had noticed the crooked set of the steps, the jagged cut of the door.
“Probably something good if even the secret passage is locked.”
A wicked grin came to Eric’s mouth, like he knew something Teddy didn’t.
“Bet you a chocolate frog I can get it open.” He said cheekily. He fell back into his resting state without a moment’s warning, a devious confidence that fixed itself from the proud set of his chin to the smooth glide of his hand around his wand.
It was refreshing to see again. In spite of himself, it put a smile to Teddy’s face as he scoffed in reply.
“Yeah, well, I don’t think alohomora is going to do the trick this time around. I can practically feel the protective charms from here!”
There was always a strange feeling Teddy got whenever he was around strong magic, especially in that moment with the darkness of the tunnel leaving him to rely on his other senses. It was like the feeling you get when you think you’re being watched, the small pressure in your skull that tells you there’s something there.
Eric knit his eyebrows together with a slight tilt in his head, leaning back on his elbows against the rickety stairs. “Now who said anything about that? Surely, you must know me better than that, by now. Have a little faith, Teddy.”
Without another word, he laid back against the stairs and held both hands up to the locked door above him, the wand in his left hand glowing faintly at the tip. His raised arms pulled his shirt up just enough to expose a bit of skin. If he noticed, he ignored it as he continued to work on the lock.
Teddy felt the threads of magic around the door being tugged and shifted with each tiny flick of Eric’s wand. He had a determined set of his jaw as he worked with his tongue caught between his teeth and his eyes narrowed in concentration. Teddy couldn’t tell if he looked more like a carpenter or a toddler drawing, smiling to himself the more he tried to decide. Eric continued to work in the comfortable silence for a few more minutes. Teddy, having nothing to contribute, just happily held his wand to the lock for some extra light.
Eventually, Eric let out a satisfied hum and gave one more twist of his wand towards the lattice of spellwork over the door. Teddy could actually feel it crumble, like a twisting of his insides as it unravelled into nothing but invisible threads. Eric didn’t even need to say anything for him to know the door was unlocked.
Teddy gave out a surprised scoff. “That’s genuinely impressive, Jiang.”
Eric tilted his head back at him in bemused surprise, a slight smirk at the edge of his mouth. “Always the tone of surprise, with you. I’m more than just a pretty face, you know!” He sat up to lean on his hands planted behind him, giving Teddy a look so excited it could only have been described as childlike. “Wanna go see what’s on the other side?”
Wordlessly, Teddy rushed over to the stairs. Putting his hands beside Eric’s on the splintered panels of the trap door, their eyes met once more.
“On three,” Teddy said, bracing himself against the stairs, “One. Two.Three!”
They both heaved against the door in unison, expecting it to give way easily after a good shove. Instead, it turned out to be quite difficult and much heavier than they thought, almost as if there was something on top of it.
Between the two of them, they managed to finally topple it after a second or so of grunting and struggling. As it lifted up slightly, with it came the sound of toppling boxes hitting the ground, the weight they had over the door disappearing instantly. They finally pushed it open completely, silently climbing the stairs to a darkness almost as total as the tunnel itself.
With their wandlights back to their full brightness, Teddy flicked his wand to send a small ball of light to the centre of the room. It was something he had just recently learned to do, and he was honestly still impressed with himself whenever he managed it. Though it wasn’t strictly necessary for this situation, he couldn’t resist the urge to show off after Eric’s downright masterful lockpicking from before. Just because he’s a Hufflepuff doesn’t mean he’s above a wounded pride.
“Cheers, mate,” Eric said, lowering his wand so he could start looking around the room.
It looked like a cellar of some sort, the old wood that framed the walls creaking under its own weight. Each corner of the room was a sea of boxes and stacked packages, everything shrouded in dust and cellophane. It was a storage room, by the looks of it.
“This would be really awkward if we ended up at the base camp for some illegal smuggling ring in Knockturn Alley, wouldn’t it?” Eric tried quietly, voice unsure but still giddy. He sounded like he was almost hoping for that, the lunatic.
“I know we walked pretty far, but certainly not that far,” Teddy retorted, tiptoeing over to the pile of boxes Eric was standing over.
“I don’t know, mate, wizards are mental. You never know what kind of stuff they’ll cook up when they’re bored.”
“Yeah, that’s fair.”
The two of them stood over the boxes expectantly, faint colours and shapes peeking through the dust-shrouded labels sitting on top. It looked familiar, in a way Teddy couldn’t put his finger on.
Bringing his wand back up, he gave it a small wave over the box on top of the pile. “Scourgify!” he muttered softly, watching as the cellophane wrapping rid itself of any signs of neglect. The label on top shined vibrantly even in the faint glow of Teddy’s spell.
They gasped in unison the moment they saw it, realisation registering itself slowly then all at once into their minds. They looked at each other ecstatically, breaking out into twin laughs of utter disbelief. No longer caring to keep quiet, Eric shook Teddy’s shoulders through their laughter, his eyes as wide as full moons.
“Teddy, mate! Do you know what this fucking means?!”
Teddy only managed to make some sort of astonished sound of acknowledgement in return, his breath coming out in gasps. He thought he might actually have a heart attack over this. A bit dramatic, maybe, but all of the possibilities and implications were racing through his mind at once, leaving him euphoric as he lay in all of the amazing possibilities.
On top of the boxes, in brights pinks and greens, were large stickers that read:
HONEYDUKES
COCKROACH CLUSTERS (20 CT.)
They practically sprinted the whole way back to the castle with sweets of every size, shape, and kind wherever they could fit them. Teddy thinks his shirt might be permanently stretched out from the weight of all of the chocolate frogs he stuffed in there. He had Bertie Bott’s in his pockets, fizzing whizzbees packed into his jacket sleeves, and a few jelly slugs (which he’s going to try his best to save for Lily) shoved into his shirt as well. Eric handled the droobles, the cauldron cakes, the peppermint toads, and the sugar quills, though Teddy doesn’t really know how he managed to fit it all. They spent a solid ten minutes in the cellar just laughing at how swollen they both looked with all of the sweets packed into their clothes.
Running back down the dark expanse of the tunnel, the only thing to be heard was the two of them laughing like maniacs, hopped up on sugar, adrenaline, and the satisfaction of a successful adventure. A few boxes or packages might have fallen on the way, but who were they to keep track?
They somehow made it back to the dorm in one piece, spilling all their sweets into Teddy’s trunk in a fit of giggles. They spent almost an hour caught up in their own animated musings, the two of them speculating how long their secret horde could last them.
“You didn’t lock the door again on our way out, did you?” Teddy had asked. Hopefully, next time, they can just waltz right in. When the time comes, though, they’ll have to bring some galleons with them, if only so their excursions don’t turn into outright burglary. Once is all fun and games. Twice is a felony.
“Why?” Eric teased. “Planning on bringing someone else to show off your maraudering? Now here I was thinking there was honour amongst thieves!” He shoved Teddy lightly in the shoulder. As he popped a peppermint toad into his mouth, the sweet brought a minty smile to his face.
“No,” Teddy said resolutely, grabbing a toad for himself. “This is a job only suited for Jiang and Lupin enterprises. Patent pending, of course.”
Eric looked at him for a moment. His smirk seemed to tug up a bit at the ends in response, or maybe that was just from the last bits of chocolate he sucked off of his thumb.
“Just between us, yeah?”
“Just between us.”
***
By the time the others trailed into the dorm room, the sweets were safely stashed under a few spare sweaters in Teddy’s trunk. It’s not as though they were above sharing, but uncovering them all at once may raise some eyebrows, especially after Eric’s high-spirited discussion with the Honeyduke’s staff earlier that day. Explaining the tunnel to Hogsmeade would also mean explaining how they found it and, above all, why they went in the first place. So, Teddy found it best to keep the evidence safely stashed away until the time was right.
It was George who wandered in first, Tilly tagging along gladly as they all sat around and talked about their day. As Teddy listened, he couldn’t help but notice that the couple conspicuously left out where they went after leaving everyone at the pub.
Colin followed about an hour later, red in the face and refusing to discuss his whereabouts with anyone in the room (but going by the look he gave Teddy right after, they were absolutely going to go over all the gritty details once they got a moment alone).
With everyone back in the room, Teddy quickly realised that Victoire still hadn’t unearthed herself from the confines of the Gryffindor common room. He hoped that she was alright. The first hangover always hits the hardest, he knew that the hard way.
He had just started contemplating paying her a visit, if there was any way to get past the Sarah and Geraldine patrol squad in the near future, when his thoughts were positively interrupted.
“Care for a round of exploding snap?” Eric asked casually. Ever since the agreement they came to earlier, he seemed to look at Teddy with their secret still resting behind his eyes, his expression always split into two meanings. It was quite fun, actually. Like a game only they knew the rules to. He smiled back in the same fashion, wordless phrases passing between them as easily as they do with Colin and him.
He decided he can check in with Victoire at breakfast tomorrow, instead. She probably didn’t want to be bothered at that moment. Godric knows he didn’t that morning.
Yeah, tomorrow definitely worked.
They spent the rest of that night trading rounds of snap with a bottle of Beetle Berry Whiskey that Tilly managed to nick from Godric knows where. She told the story of how she got it with many overlooked details, smiling wickedly all the while. A bit dodgy, yes, but they weren’t in any shape to turn down a gift from a guest in their own home. Especially when George wouldn’t stop looking over at her with almost visible hearts in his eyes whenever she spoke.
They laughed and drank and eventually they were tipsy enough that Teddy and Eric started tossing their extra sweets around to everyone else. Almost sick on sugar and whiskey, the night devolved into everyone trading off in a contest to see who could conjure up the coolest stuff. Eric won by just a hair with transfigured flowers that could sing The B-52s, much to everyone’s reluctant amazement. Colin and Tilly were a close second, though, with their joint efforts on conjuring a bluebell flame that they could toss around like a football. It was utterly chaotic in a perfectly distracting way, leaving Teddy the excuse to forget about Hogsmeade and whatever happened that morning altogether.
After the night died down and Tilly went back to the Dungeons, they all laid in bed exhausted and satisfied. It was then that Teddy realised Eric was the only one who knew about the letter in the first place. To the others, it was just a regular day at Hogsmeade, nothing changed except for the company. Teddy found himself regretfully settling into that dynamic, the relief he felt only matched by the guilt of not telling them the moment he saw them. While one part of his thoughts wanted nothing more than to get this whole thing off his chest, he didn’t feel ready to see the looks on their face when he finally did. They’re bound to be nothing but perfect about it, Teddy’s sure, but maybe it was more about him than his friends, and maybe that was enough for now.
That night, he could still go to sleep like nothing happened, like the letter was just another secret he and Eric kept. Something that was just between them.
The idea comforted him, even eased him enough to fall asleep, but it was not enough to keep the nightmares away.
***
He wakes up on the ground, the soft darkness of the clouds above him lit up by a nearly full moon. The grass below him is cold, tickling at the skin of his neck as his vision begins to come into focus. His whole body feels like it’s being pulled down to the ground, gravity stretching and swelling around him the more he tries to get up. He rolls to his side and instantly gets sick, his stomach swimming from the agonising ache at the back of his eyes. He feels not fully together, somewhere between what he was a moment ago and something else. It weighs and drags and pulls as he gets dizzier and dizzier.
I have to get up, he thinks to himself. He speaks it into life as if it’ll help him move at all. I can’t put them in danger. He vaguely has the mindspace to wonder who they are in the first place, as he stumbles groggily to his feet to meet the biting night air.
He looks down at his hands, counting his fingers and getting his bearings. He remembers what Gran used to tell him. When things get scary, remember to count your fingers. Try to do all of the things you can only do when you’re awake.Dreams can be a terrible place, she used to say. But when you know it’s just a dream, that’s all it becomes.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten.
He’s not dreaming.
He looks up, or maybe it’s his eyes trying to roll back, and sees a huge, gnarled tree sway in the wind. Except, he doesn’t feel a thing. There’s not a single breeze to push it. Its spindly branches lean back and forth, getting closer with each dip. The Whomping Willow.
It towers above him, even more daunting in the dead of night. It seems to bend down to greet him, beckoning him closer with barbed tendrils and hissing leaves. Some part of him knows what it wants, where it wants to take him. He tries to remember, tries to rip the words out of the back of his head as he staggers in place.
How do I remember this? Why can’t I remember enough?
He can’t open his mouth to get the words out, either from fear or the sheer powerlessness to part his lips. He’s so weak he could faint. He almost wants to, just to stop feeling like this. A part of him feels like he’s already asleep.
A whimper suddenly echoes through the air like the weak cry of a wounded animal. He turns his head just in time to see a black dog tumble out of the bushes, barely able to stay on its feet. It’s hurt. Dirt and blood cake its matted fur, so dark he can barely see the colour in the light of the moon. Its eyes are tired, lulling over as it walks jaggedly to his side. Where did you come from? He thinks. How are you always here?
The tree shifts and its branches crack and whistle as they barrel down to the ground below. They creep towards him like serpents, sliding relentlessly over the tall grass. He can’t move his body quick enough to react. Instead, he drops to his knees, exhaustion taking over and leaving him to brace himself for whatever comes.
But they never come. His eyes are squeezed shut as he hears them slip right past him. He feels nothing but the breeze as they whip past his face, the hissing growing louder all around him.
At the sound of a yelp, his eyes shoot open. He looks back to see the dog completely ensnared, snarling and biting at the swarm of branches as they begin to drag it away from the bushes. It fights and squirms as it’s pulled, thrashing in vain in an attempt to free itself. Slowly, the dog is dragged back towards the tree, the grass in its path left clipped and uprooted.
No, he croaks out, somehow finding the strength to stumble forward. No. Please!
He chases after the tumultuous mess of fur and leaves. He’s running as fast as he can, but it’s not fast enough to catch up. He’s still too weak, not quite here and not quite gone. He staggers faster and faster, his muscles screaming back at him with every step. Eventually, it’s too much, and he falls to his knees and crawls to the tree.
Don’t take him, please. I need him.
The tree doesn’t hesitate. It just pulls and drags and leaves the ground in ruins. Yet, it doesn’t so much as touch him, shying away as he crawls closer.
The dog gives one last loud cry before it’s thrown into the hole at the base of the Willow’s twisted roots, disappearing into the darkness without another sound.
He lets out a painful sob, pulling himself back up to his feet with one last burst of energy. He has to help it, he can’t just let it go back there, back to the darkness at the end of that cave.
With the last of his might, he dives in after it. Passing through the hole in the roots, the darkness of dirt and blackened wood swallows him whole as he watches the light of the moon wither into nothing.
Teddy’s being shaken before he even realises. The fog and the trees and the darkness clump together, forming bit after bit of himself until he begins to feel their weight against his bedframe. The sound of his name carries somewhere off in the distance, he begins to pour himself back into his limbs.
“Ted! Teddy, wake up!” Eric speaks in a harsh whisper, shaking him with a firm hand on his shoulder.
Teddy rips himself from the final dredges of sleep, throwing himself to sit up with his arms swung back to anchor him. For a moment, the only sound is his ragged breathing.
“...You were talking in your sleep, mate. Sounded like you were having a nightmare.” Eric says tentatively. He has that same look of concern from yesterday, his eyes tinged with a sort of sadness as he looks at Teddy.
“Uh…yeah. Yeah, I was. Cheers, mate.” Teddy replies as he catches his breath. He’s still trying to get his bearings at the moment. Part of him is still back at the Whomping Willow. It had all felt so real, like the cool air of the cave is still bleeding into his bedroom. It makes him shiver.
Eric takes a moment to look back at Colin and George. Teddy follows his gaze to see both of them sleeping peacefully in their beds. Eric turns back to him and motions slightly over the bed, silently asking for permission. Teddy gives a quick nod and pulls up his legs to give the other boy room to sit.
Eric slips beneath the curtain quietly and sits across from Teddy with his legs crossed. Settling in, he wordlessly pulls out his wand. “Sonoro Quiescis,” he whispers.
As the silencing charm falls over the bed, the sound of George’s soft snoring fades into nothing. The soft patter of rain against the windows softens to silence.
Putting his wand in his lap, Eric looks back at Teddy softly, his movements less tense now that the others can’t hear them.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” He starts, his voice still low despite the spell. “We don’t have to, of course. I just know that talking usually helps me when I’ve had a bad dream.”
Teddy hesitates for a moment, deciding whether he should or not. It might be nice to talk about it, after all, if only to remind himself it was all a dream in the first place. Then again, the mere image of it still leaves him shaken. For now, a distraction might actually do him some good.
“Could we maybe just talk about…like, literally anything else?” He suggests, the grogginess of sleep nothing more than a slight tug in the back of his eyelids. Even if he wanted to go back to sleep, he’s not exactly sure if he could after the night he had.
Eric breaks into a small grin, his expression showing the semblance of an idea forming. “I thought you’d never ask.” Though he speaks softly, the devious flair in his smile betrays him.
He leans over Teddy to reach for the bedside table, pulling open the top drawer and taking out a familiar fold of parchment. Sitting back down and unfolding it on the quilt between them, he quickly launches into a plan that seemed to be hours in the making.
“Ok, well, I was thinking, and Godric forbid any professors start doing morning rounds, we could use the map to avoid them and finally get around to that passage we heard about on the fifth floor…”
They start planning out their early start to morning with routes and various detailed escape plans through chains of staircases (and escape plans for those escape plans should things go awry). It was nice, especially when it took Teddy’s mind off of everything else, for the most part. Though admittedly unnecessary, Teddy thought it was kind of fun to explore the castle like a couple of burglars. Or, better yet, a couple of marauders in the making.
***
They walk over to breakfast splitting a chocolate frog, taking bites between winded breaths and satisfied smirks. They almost got caught at least four times, Teddy thinks, five if they include getting spotted by the Fat Friar on their way through the charms corridor. Thankfully, the old ghost was kind enough to let them go with a warning, one they very clearly did not listen to.
It’s a true blessing that it’s still the weekend. The Great Hall is filled with only a handful of students at the moment, just a few stragglers that happened to find themselves awake at such an ungodly hour. Knowing Colin, he’ll probably wake up and head down to join them in just a few minutes. Maybe then would be a good time to tell him about the letter and everything. Godric knows the guilt of keeping it from him for a mere few hours has already sat with Teddy far more than he would like to admit. Telling him at breakfast could just be a casual way to get it off his chest and put off all of the gritty details until later.
Thinking about the letter again instantly puts that familiar pit back in his stomach. Or maybe it never left in the first place. Regardless, the reminder surely isn’t a pleasant one.
Teddy looks over at Eric to see a bit of chocolate smeared under his lips. Sucking the last of his sweet from his thumb, he looks at Teddy with a questioning tilt of his head as their eyes meet.
“Everything alright?” Eric asks.
As they pass through the large doors of the Great Hall, Teddy can’t really decide how to answer. Sure he’s fine, he supposes, at least in the sense that he’s living and breathing at the current moment. That’s certainly nothing to complain about. Yet, they both know he’s not exactly been in the best shape since last night. This whole early morning adventure was for him, after all. Just something to keep him distracted for a few hours. Except, at certain points, It didn’t really feel like just a distraction.
In the midst of almost tripping down the stairs or frantically checking the map, he nearly forgot about all of it. For a moment, it was like they were just running around aimlessly like every teenager should, like the weight was off his shoulders. It was nice to just leave everything behind for a moment and let himself focus on something else. But, then Teddy remembered why they were running in the first place. He remembered who brought them there and what kept him searching for all of the secrets that were left for him between the bricks of the castle walls. He remembers and he feels guilty for forgetting in the first place, like it was unfair for him to carry on the same after yesterday.
Now he’s stuck with guilt that hits him every time he forgets and grief that eats at him every time he remembers. It’s like he just keeps running and hiding in the passages of the castle, only to find that he’s not fast enough. The feeling still finds him in the tunnel to Honeydukes, and it’s still two steps ahead of him no matter how many steps he skips on the way up the stairs.
Frankly, it’s suffocating, all of this building up in his stomach without a single idea of how to put it into his words. And here Eric is, asking him to do just that, and not a word comes to mind that could properly explain how he is very much not alright.
When Teddy doesn’t respond for a moment, Eric nudges him with his elbow and gives an expectant raise of his eyebrows.
Teddy is snapped out of his thoughts, turning his head to look back at Eric. He can already find the lump in his throat pushing against his tongue, the millions of answers he could give all swelling and swarming in his mouth as they lock eyes. He could try to put it off again, say he’s just tired and carry on with the morning. They could just keep pretending to be arrogant teenagers, everything from the letter and the nightmare and the glass vial all tucked back neatly into the back of his mind for just a few more hours.
Except, Teddy doesn’t think he wants to do that. Honestly, he thinks he might actually explode if he does that. Instead, he starts to think of where to start, piecing together the puzzle pieces of his thoughts until the picture’s a little clearer. It might not be pretty when he finishes, but he might as well try.
They finally reach their spot at the table and the both of them sit down hesitantly on the bench. As the question still hangs between them, Teddy takes a final, deep breath, steadying himself. He looks around, making sure the rest of the students are out of earshot before finally finding it in himself to exhale. Looking back at Eric, he finds him still waiting, the silver platters of food in front of them left completely forgotten.
Fitting each word carefully onto the tip of his tongue, Teddy finally begins to speak.
“Well, it’s just all really complicated, isn’t it?”
He waits for a moment. He doesn’t really know what he’s waiting for in the first place, honestly. Maybe for Eric to finish the sentence for him, take the burden away of airing all of his dirty laundry in one fell swoop.
He only gets a nod in response, the air between them left eerily quiet amongst the voices and clatters of silverware in the background.
Clearing his throat, Teddy decides to try again.
“I just don’t even know where to begin. It’s like I’ve been living my whole life in the dark. I’ve barely even heard about my father, let alone spoken to him, and now here he is, right in front of me, telling me all of these things that are supposed to be enough for me. But it’s not enough. It won’t ever be enough, I don’t think. And I just have to be fine with that, just carry on as if I’m supposed to be wiser and better and grateful that I got a letter in the first place.”
A thick heat that feels uncomfortably close to anger begins to swirl at the bottom of his ribs, turning and growing the longer he speaks. It pricks at his ears, egging him on and pulling him to a stop at the same time.
Teddy looks down at his fingers as he fiddles with them, tugging at his fingernails nervously.
“The thing is, I am grateful. I’m glad I still have something from my parents, and I know a lot of people don’t get something like that. It just makes me wonder why I didn’t know about any of this in the first place. I’ve been asking about them since I could speak in full sentences, and I’ve gotten fuck-all. Every time I asked Harry he would go on this stupid bloody tangent about how ‘doing what’s right isn’t always easy’ and ramble on about how important their sacrifice was to the war. But I don’t care about the war. I don’t care what they died for, what they wanted, or why they left to fight in the first place. The only thing I care about is that they’re dead. They’re gone and everyone talks about them like they didn’t know the first thing about them and it’s fucking awful.”
Teddy finds himself raising his voice a little, the words spilling out of his mouth before he can even take the time to think about them. The same tears from last night pool at the corner of his eyes as he takes a breath, threatening to streak down his face until he’s gasping for air. He blinks harshly, pulling them back as he goes to continue talking, stilling the wavering of his voice with the tight clenching of his hands into fists against his lap.
“And I–”
Looking up from his hands, his voice dies out in his throat. Across the hall, Colin walks cheerfully through the towering set of doors. The sight of him makes all of the things Teddy has left to say vanish, his mind left blank as he gets closer.
A panic starts to build up within him, a frantic unpreparedness that makes him want to run back down to the One-Eyed Witch and hide out until the storm subsides. How is he supposed to repeat all of that to Colin? How is he supposed to tell him when he could barely talk about it in the first place? On top of that, Colin knows nothing about the letter, nothing about the vial, nothing about anything that happened after he left The Three Broomsticks.
The piles of unspoken explanations begin to weigh down his shoulders, stealing his voice until he can barely breathe let alone speak them out loud. He can’t do this right now, he can’t just keep revisiting and replaying everything every time one of his friends walks in, it’s all too much.
His breathing picks up, pulling in and out of his chest in gasps that quicken with each step Colin takes. He can read Teddy like a book, like a goddamn brochure at the worst of times. There’s no way he won’t know precisely what’s going on if he sees him like this. Here’s the moment to tell him, to get everything off his chest, and yet he can’t. He’s not ready to do all of this again.
Teddy grabs Eric’s arm quickly, trying his best to stutter out a quick excuse before Colin gets to the table.
“Please, just– just don’t tell Colin about this right now. We can talk later, I promise, but I can’t right now. I can’t– I just–”
A set of conflicting emotions pass over Eric’s face, like he’s picking his reaction carefully with layered uncertainty. Obviously he doesn’t want to keep something from Colin, but he nods back hesitantly regardless.
“Just between us, yeah?” Teddy tries.
Eric gives him a sad smile in return, his voice lowering down to a whisper in Colin’s last few steps towards the table.
“Yeah, mate. Just between us.”
“Morning, lads!” Colin chirps brightly as he takes his seat across from them. “Two early mornings within the span of a few days, Ted? I’m starting to think you’re up to something.” He eyes Teddy teasingly and pours himself a cup of coffee.
Teddy looks back at Colin nervously, thinking of the best way to respond. All of the things he wanted to tell him just moments ago are suddenly too far out of reach, leaving him to watch helplessly as they drift farther away. He wants nothing more than to say the right thing. Instead, he just smiles.
Colin’s smile drops into a confused frown, his eyes narrowing a bit as he continues to stare at Teddy. Shit. One second and he already knows.
“Is everything alright?” He asks curiously. The question serves as more of a formality than anything else. He takes a slow sip from his coffee, his eyes not leaving Teddy’s face as he waits for a reply.
The nerves begin to press against Teddy’s ribs again. His mind races as he tries to think of something to say, something that will put an end to any other possible questions or jabs. He’s about to open his mouth when Eric beats him to it, cutting him off with a smile of his own.
“Yeah, we’re aces, mate! I just think Teddy over here didn’t have enough time to sleep off all of the Beetle Berry from last night.”
Teddy looks over at Eric in mild surprise, watching the casual ease of his posture that was nowhere to be found when it was just the two of them. It’s almost impressive how quickly he can switch into his usual self at a time like this. Then again, Teddy is the one panicking over this, not him.
Colin still doesn’t look convinced. He’s seen Teddy hungover more times than he can count, so it comes as no surprise when he shoots his classic “we’ll talk about this later” look. This time, it sends a pang through Teddy’s chest, a mix of guilt and nerves that tumble around in his lungs.
Teddy nods slightly, more as a way to get Colin to stop looking at him than in agreement. It seems to do the job by the way Colin settles warily back into his seat. His expression goes casual again, surely leaving everything left unsaid for later.
Eric then tosses a glance over at Teddy, not lasting for a fraction of a second but saying everything he needs to in half the time. Teddy almost misses it, like it wasn’t something he was even fully meant to see.
For that singular instant, the casual smile fixed to Eric’s face dipped, and under the exterior, concern and disappointment were the only things that remained. It burns the side of Teddy’s face when it hits him, but he puts on another smile and pretends he can’t still feel it spreading across his cheek.
“ –So!” Teddy starts in an attempt to deflect, the air at the table growing far too tense for his liking. “...Will we be expecting Sebastian at the table this morning?”
Colin instantly glows a faint red and Teddy knows he hit his mark. As quickly as it had come, his friend’s prying look vanishes. It’s only a temporary victory, he realises, but that’s good enough for him for now.
***
Victoire is the last one to join them at the table, all dark circles and sluggish steps. Completely foregoing her usual stop at her own house’s table, she makes a beeline straight for Hufflepuff.
Teddy glances over to the other side of the room to see Geraldine and Sarah looking anything but pleased. Their eyes follow Victoire as she slumps into her seat next to Teddy, their seething looks practically biting Teddy from here. Somehow, he’s pretty sure they’ll find a way to blame him for his girlfriend ignoring them later on.
Victoire lets out a groan as she sits down, throwing her face into her hands mournfully.
“Ugh, how am I still hungover? I’ve been drinking Madame Pomfrey’s Pepper-Up potions like they’re pumpkin juice!” She grumbles discontentedly, her voice slightly muffled under her palms.
Teddy reaches up to rub her back gently, scooting his plate with the remains of his breakfast over to her side of the bench.
“That bad, huh?”
She looks more miserable than he’s seen her in years, and that includes when her pygmy puff Ruby “mysteriously ran away.” She found out when she got back home from Hogwarts last summer and promptly locked herself in her room with the blinds drawn and Melissa Etheridge playing. She didn’t come out of there for days.
“Yeah,” Eric starts from the other end of the table. “Probably should’ve told you that Pomfrey’s potions do just about fuck-all for hangovers. I swear she has to have something for it, she just likes to see us suffer for our crimes!”
He chuckles a little as he nods over to Victoire, his eyes briefly locking with Teddy’s as he speaks. It’s still there, that little hole in his armour. It shows whenever Teddy looks at him, almost growing worse since Victoire got to the table. He looks completely fine, maybe even better than usual, up until the moments that he can’t help but let show what’s underneath.
He looks guilty. Guilty in a way that he’s trying his absolute best to hide from everyone. Yet, even after seeing it for a split second, it makes Teddy sick to his stomach.
He’ll tell them soon. Before they know it, this whole thing will be off of their shoulders and Teddy will finally bite the bullet and face the inevitably gruesome conversation of unpacking years worth of childhood trauma.
He tries to say all of this, say any of this in the quick look that he shoots over to Eric. How do they usually pack so much into a single expression? Juggling the telling stares of both Colin and Eric is enough to make him thoroughly dizzy already. He swears that if he gets one more, he might pass out.
“I’ve already checked all of her potion cabinets, and sadly, Pomfrey doesn’t have a thing for it besides pain-relieving draughts and harsh lectures,” Tilly muses over her spoon of porridge. The amount of sugar she’s poured into it is visible even from Teddy’s seat at the other end of the table.
“When did you have time to go through Madame Pomfrey’s stores? She keeps it practically airtight!” George asks, his exasperation only matched by the dopey smile he gives her.
“Not when you bribe a third year to pretend to be patient zero for a rare strain of dragonpox.” She replies nonchalantly, eyes still fixed on the sickly sweet porridge sitting in front of her.
Eric looks over at Tilly with his jaw practically hitting the table, scoffing with a mix of surprise and jealousy. He looks over at George with the same look.
“Georgey, this girl is possibly the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”
“That is quite literally all I have been telling you lot for months.” George answers flatly.
Tilly snorts in reply, a smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. She barely looks up at the comment, but from where Teddy is sitting, he still catches the blush that blooms over her cheeks. The one she tries to hide from George behind the hanging curtain of her hair.
Victoire makes another grumbling sound from her side of the bench, apparently still conscious enough to register basic conversation.
“If I wasn’t so close to death, I would have thought up a clever rebuttal to the tune of me being the best thing that’s happened to you arseholes. But for now, Eric, just know that I resent that statement…” She mutters groggily with her cheek now pressed against the table. Teddy remembers doing something very similar during his first hangover, if he’s not mistaken. He’s found that the cold wood of the table is actually quite therapeutic. There’s hope for her yet, it seems.
“Vic not having some sort of witty retort to what George says? History is being made at this breakfast table today!” Eric laughs, reaching over to squeeze her hand in solidarity. Victoire only lets out a groan in reply, balling one hand up in a fist to rest her forehead upon.
“Well if my lovely boyfriend had paid me a visit yesterday and helped nurse me back to health, maybe I wouldn't be so bloody miserable.” Even in her grumpy and ill-tempered state, there’s still no heat in her tone. Regardless, it makes Teddy feel like a piss-poor excuse for the man who said he loved her not two nights ago.
“Aw, I’m sorry, V. Got a little–uh…preoccupied yesterday.”
He says this with his eyes trained on Eric, the boy next to him barely able to meet his stare in return. Yet, Teddy swears there’s a faint twitch at the corner of his mouth as he hears it, a smile threatening to creep onto his face as the memory swims past his eyes. Teddy almost wants to do the same, the thought of the Honeyduke’s cellar still leaving a sweet taste in his mouth.
“Too preoccupied to bring a bowl of soup? A chocolate frog? Merlin, even a pity snog might have helped me recover a bit quicker!” Victoire huffs dramatically with her head still tucked into her arms.
“Good God, can we please not prattle on about snogging right now? It’s 8 in the morning, for Christ’s sake!” George pleads.
Teddy chuckles in reply, moving his arm back up to rub Victoire’s back once again. “How’d we even get here, anyways? Weren’t we just talking about Pepper-Up Potions?” He asks, his thumb moving in small circles against her shoulder blade.
“I think Victoire was just saying that we’re all the best thing that’s happened to George, and that title can’t be so quickly removed just because he’s landed himself a properly mint girlfriend,” Colin says matter-of-factly, waving his hand passively over everyone at the table while he smiles into his cup of coffee.
“Aww, you guys!” George says affectionately. He looks absolutely touched, in his own confusing way. “You all better cut it out before I shed a tear.”
“Just wait until your birthday this summer!” Eric teases. Though he sounds sarcastic, Teddy has already heard about all of the ideas his friends have for George’s birthday gifts, so the tears are likely not out of the question.
Teddy remembers just how certifiably mad George went when they surprised him last year with a visit to his house in London. The actual day being in the summer, he never got one of the extravagant (and sometimes downright dangerous) parties that everyone else got. It was Teddy who came up with the idea in the first place, actually, not being able to stomach the thought of George having to spend his fifteenth birthday alone.
The moment George opened the door, he just about burst into tears with how pleased he was to see them. He didn’t come out of his bedroom for nearly thirty minutes after, eventually coming downstairs with a few sniffles still making their way out. They spent the whole day watching George’s favourite muggle films (if there are even wizard films, that is), eating snacks made by George’s mum (who is utterly lovely), and playing board games that none of them except for George had even heard of. Though it took a solid three rounds of George’s frantic explanations to get them to understand the basic mechanics of Parcheesi, it was decided unanimously to be one of the best days of their entire summer.
The memory settles Teddy’s stomach a little, the warmth of the summer sun and shaggy carpet coming back to soothe the tightness in his chest.
“Oh my God, are you serious? I swear to God if you don’t give me at least a hint–” George demands, frantically reaching over to jab at the boy across from him. Eric giggles as he shoves him away in mock annoyance.
“Georgey, it's April.”
“Close enough!”
Teddy laughs at his friends to even his own surprise, happily watching their frenzied bickering and trying his best to shove down what’s left of the guilt that lines his throat. As much as he hates to admit it, it feels a lot easier to pretend everything’s fine right now. This way, he’s not ruining the fun and no one has to try to think of comforting things to say (things that would probably just make everything worse). His friends don’t have to spend the moments they would otherwise be laughing worrying over Teddy and his stupid bloody nightmares. Yes, he will tell them, and yes, he still feels guilty about making Eric lie for him. Yet, overall, he thinks they all deserve a few more hours of exactly this.