Fic: Worthy (Teddy/Rose)
Jun. 27th, 2012 07:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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hp_rarefestTitle: Worthy
Author/Artist:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lar_laughs
Prompt: Prompt 140: Rose is finally graduating from Hogwarts. If only Teddy could stay sober enough to not make a fool of himself. He wouldn't want to confess his undying love to her in the middle of her party or anything.
Pairing(s): Teddy Lupin/Rose Weasley
Word Count/Art Medium: ~4300
Rating: PG
Warning(s): use of alcohol by an adult
Disclaimer:Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: Much thanks to A for always knowing when to push and when to hold back. Cheers to the best beta in the whole world!
Summary: Teddy had promised her he was going to stop drinking and she'd taken him at his word. Rose was going to have to
Rose Weasley wasn't even sure why she'd agreed to have this party. It was more about her parents than it would ever be about her, even if it was to celebrate the fact that she was leaving Hogwarts with a N. E. W. T score that had made her mother so very proud. The few friends that she'd allowed to be invited were in the kitchen, pretending to be tending to the different food dishes that still needed to be brought out. Yes, she'd demanded it be a buffet-style party because she couldn't bear to have to sit down at the same table with most of these people. Forced conversation always made her feel ill which was funny because it seemed that was all her parents did these days.
"Mother invited her Ministry friends and Father insisted on including some work friends, as well," she whispered to Anglia, her best mate, in a pained voice that bespoke of all things horrible that should not be discussed in a normal tone, of which she was getting quite good at using considering her family was a constant source of those horrible things. "All of whom are ancient and like nothing better than to ramble on about nothing for days on end. It's supposed to be a party. Mother nixed any music because it would make conversation difficult. How dull can this party be?"
Anglia gave her a sympathetic smile but it was easy to see that she was relieved that her parents hadn't thought of the same thing. Her N.E.W.T. scores weren't anything to celebrate, though. If she was lucky, she'd find a nice job on Diagon Alley were she'd meet a nice, young man that her parent didn't approve of (just to add spice to family gatherings) and spend the rest of her life raising children and following West Ward Hall and other of her favorite daily serials on the Wizarding Wireless Network.
"Have you gotten any work out of Patrice?" Rose asked as she searched the room for the other two girls she considered her close friends. "Has she been chatting up Albus this entire time?"
"Oh, she's stirring the punch. Such a strenuous task." The knowing smile lit up Anglia's face as she leaned in close to share the newest tidbit she'd received while Rose had been out, mingling like a good guest of honor. "You didn't hear this from me but she and your cousin were talking about shopping."
"Shopping? And this is something exciting?" Rose glanced over at her cousin, unsure why she cared that they were looking forward to spending money. "He does need a new wardrobe. I think that shirt used to be blue instead of the gray it is now."
The wry frown that Anglia shot her made her rethink her answer but she couldn't seem to reason it out for herself. "Not that sort of shopping, silly girl." Anglia held up her left hand and pointed to the ring finger. "That sort of shopping."
"For a ring? Already? We've only just left school. How could they do-" but she thought better of the rest of that sentence. Patrice and Albus had been inseparable for two years now. Of course they were ready for that step. Instead of trying to reason it out, Rose shrugged. "So, they'll be the first of us to be married. Knowing those two, it'll be in a library or something equally bookish."
"You're one to talk, Miss Best N.E.W.T. Score In The School."
Tristan came up behind the girls in time to swipe a biscuit from the tray that Anglia was rearranging for the third time so she could put off going into the main room. "Oh, are we talking about Rose's scores yet again? What riveting conversation. Please, by all means, include me."
"Just because you're jealous doesn't mean you can be-"
But Anglia wasn't able to finish the thought as sounds from the front room filtered through the open door of the kitchen. Raised voices competed for prominence but there was no denying the general unease that Rose suddenly felt as one voice rose above all the others. Her name, repeated over and over again, in the same helpless yelping.
"Is that-" but Anglia shushed him before Tristan could finish. Both school chums looked up at Rose with varying degrees of pity. In this instance, she would rather have their pity than the rising tide of anger from the rest of the guests.
"Do you think it's acceptable for the guest of honor to run away from her own party? Is it allowed in these instances?"
Albus was suddenly beside her, his face a mask of concern. "He'll only get worse if you don't go out there. You know you're the only one who he'll listen to when he gets like this. Father's just going to make it worse, like he so often does these days."
It was true. As much as she hated the thought of doing this in the middle of a room full of strangers, there was no way that Teddy was going to stop his caterwauling until she intervened. Even then, she couldn't guarantee success. Sometimes he was so sloshed that the inevitable oblivion that overtook him was the only thing that stopped his tirades. It was truly sad that Teddy's state had deteriorated so steadily in the past few years. She could still remember the young man that knew how to laugh, who always had something witty to say whenever there was a gathering of the whole clan. Now, the only time he came to dinner at the Weasley's was when he was too embarrassed to go to the Potter's.
"The poor dear," someone whispered as Rose walked into the room. At first, she thought the person was talking about her until she realized that no one had noticed her. All eyes were trained on Teddy Lupin.
He was still a stunning young man, the soft brown hair only just hinting at the possibility he might someday be a bit thin on top. For the most part, he could have blended in among her friends if not for the nagging sense that he'd seen and experienced things that no young person should have known about. Life had not been kind to Teddy, a fact few remarked on but couldn't help but notice at first glance. All his wounds were stuck fast in his mind and deep inside his heart.
Tonight, Teddy was weaving on his feet but had successfully fought off both Rose's father and uncle. His wand was held firmly in a hand that barely shook, a worthy weapon if someone tried to assault him. It was hard to tell if he knew exactly where he was as his rheumy eyes seemed to be having trouble focusing on any one person in the crowd. Rose wondered if he thought he was seeing quadruple of the number of people he normally found in the Weasley household because he'd been drinking or if he understood this was a party.
"Put down the wand, Teddy." Rose kept her voice firm, mindful that she needed to restore this man's honour just as much as she needed to defuse the situation. Part of the reason she was so good at doing this was because she never cajoled him, like her mother, or let him take the lead, as Uncle Harry was want to do. Their history with Teddy was different than hers.
His smile was brilliant as he turned to face her. "At last. I thought maybe you weren't here."
"It's my party. Why wouldn't I be here?"
"Party?" It was as if he noticed the people surrounding him for the first time. "I didn't know you were having a party."
"Really? You received the invitation nearly a month ago." Right about the time you went off the deep end yet again, she wanted to remind him but thought better of it. "And I dropped by your flat last week to remind you. Don't you remember?"
The effort it took for him to think back left him swaying but the wand still stayed in place. "We had shortbread. And tea."
"Yes. Two lumps of sugar. Just how you like it."
It was, perhaps, the wrong thing to say. Huge tears swelled in Teddy's eyes. "Just how she liked it." No one had to ask who he was talking about. Everyone in the room knew who he was talking about. Part of Teddy's difficulty was that he was the most notable war orphan in near history, not quite eclipsing his godfather in that regard. While Uncle Harry had learned to utilize his fame, Teddy had never been that lucky. No matter how he tried to hide, he was always that poor dear boy who lost his parents in the Battle of Hogwarts. Somewhere along the way, he'd lost himself in that history.
But Rose wasn't going to let him dwell on those hurtful thoughts. "It's one of the things you have in common with your mother, yes. Wonderful that you have that much of her, isn't it? Some people don't have the same courtesy of getting to know so much about their parents, dead or alive. So much of who our parents are is hidden from their children, in the hopes that we don't get to know their weaknesses."
She saw her father flinch while her mother's eyes narrowed. It was shameful that she was bringing their private family arguments out in front of everyone but it was the first thing that came to her mind, being so fresh in her memory. In the Weasley family, this was an argument that resurfaced every couple of years, the tragedy of having famous parents who tried their hardest to keep their secrets held tight to their chest. In an effort to keep things out of the public eye, they often also kept things away from their children without intending to do harm.
This wasn't about them, though. Not really. While they all still felt responsible for Teddy, he was a man full grown. He needed to take responsibility for himself. She had to believe that there was a grown man, complete and whole, stuck somewhere in the midst of this drunken haze, wishing he had made different choices with his life and willing to do something about it.
"Put the wand down," she demanded once again. This time he listened and tucked it into his waistband. Or thought he did. It dropped to the floor without any notice from its owner. "Come into the kitchen and get some coffee."
"I came to give you-"
"Coffee, Teddy. Then you can give me whatever you-"
"But I want to tell you that I-"
Uncle Harry decided now was a good time to say something, damn him. If he'd just given her just a little more time, she could have herded Teddy into the kitchen and away from the prying eyes. Instead, he grasped Teddy by the arm. "Why don't you-"
Teddy's fist made contact with his capture's nose. There was a scream of horror, probably from Anglia as it was rather melodramatic, even for this situation. For a moment, everyone was frozen in place but then a great current of blood began to flow out of Mr. Potter's nose and the room erupted into angry accusations. Rose lunged forward and pulled Teddy away from her uncle, tugging him frantically through the closest opening that would get the pair of them away from the crowd that was suddenly bent against this poor soul.
"You're drunk," she hissed, more angry than she'd ever been with Teddy. More hurt, too. "You've been drinking more and more even though you expressly told me you wouldn't. You said you would quit. Was that a lie?"
"Forgot." His mumbled reply was hard to hear, even in the darkened hallway. "Told you I would but I forgot."
"Why, Teddy? Why?"
But he was in his own world, oblivious to her question. He didn't seem to recognize where he was or the havoc he had caused. A part of Rose wanted to feel sorry for this pathetic man but she knew she couldn't do that. Too many people already treated Teddy like he was a broken doll, sighing over what might have been if they'd done something different with him. They had given up on him, thinking he was stuck with this particular destiny.
Before she could come up with a better plan than standing here in the darkened hallway, lost in indecision, he slumped forward. As she reached forward to catch him, she realized that he wasn't unconscious as she'd first thought. He'd meant to reach for her but had miscalculated. Now that she was where he wanted her to be, he could follow through with his plan to kiss her.
As kisses went, it wasn't bad. Rose only had one or two to compare it to but they had been quick pecks against her closed lips, taken in haste and thought better of before anything interesting could happen. This wasn't like those. Not by any stretch of the imagination. Teddy's breath smelled stale, tasted of yeast and sickness, but it was warm on hers, demanding that she give back as good as he was giving. She was sure that a sober Teddy would have been more suave about lip placement and momentum but she couldn't fault this drunk Teddy's enthusiasm for the activity.
Before she realized it, she forgot that he was drunk or that there was still a room full of party guests or even that she had ideas of what romance should entail that certainly weren't this scenerio. A riot of emotions bloomed instead of her, pushing out all reason and thought until she could only feel the heat of his body against hers as she swayed closer. When he pulled away, she wanted to pull him back to where his warmth surrounded her.
"I should go." For the first time since crashing the party, Teddy sounded sober. Or near enough to it that his words were harsh without the familiar slur they'd had so far tonight. His eyes were still foggy but were now tinged with something that might have been regret. Rose took a step back to keep herself from protesting what she knew was coming. "I didn't mean to do that, Rosie."
The nickname, something she hadn't allowed anyone to call her for a long time now, stiffened her spine but not because she didn't want him using it. It meant he was putting her firmly back into her "little girl" status instead of the "definitely an adult now" status that kiss had moved her into. She mourned what might have been but didn't move to stop him from walking back the way they'd come. All she could do was watch him walk away. When the excited buzz from the main room started up again, she knew he'd left.
It felt like hours later when she looked down at a precariously wrapped present at her feet. It hadn't been there when she'd first started down the hall. She would have remembered something that exquisitely ugly. When she bent down to pick it up, she caught a whiff of the chip shop that Teddy lived above. As she opened it, she realized that things weren't as bad as she thought they might be.
***
Precisely twelve hours after being bundled home between both Harry and Ron, Teddy's front door vibrated from the great clanging it was receiving from the hallway. His head pounded right along with the rhythm, his eyes rolling back in his head in an attempt to get away from the pain.
"Hold on," he yelled before immediately thinking better of opening his mouth again. If he did, he feared for the consequences of that action. No, better to keep his mouth shut and his voice as low and soothing as possible if he needed to use it again.
A demon must stand on the other side of the door because the pounding continued, bringing with it a steady stream of agony. When he opened it just enough to see who was on the other side, mindful of the bright lights his landlady liked to use on the landing, he realized that it was, in fact, a demon. A demon with delightfully titan hair and a smile that nearly sent him to his knees every time he witnessed it.
"Rose?" He opened his mouth but a frog answered for him. After clearing his throat, he tried again. "Have you come to flay me alive for ruining your party?"
The paper bag in her arm mocked him with the smells of fresh baked scones. It only got worse as she pushed the door open and waltzed in, graceful and lovely even in patched jeans and oversized cardigan that had once been Gryffindor red and now was a dull rust color that suited her better. She cleared a place on the table for the bag before moving to open the windows. A stiff, Atlantic breeze came in, ruffling his hair and clearing his head like nothing else could.
"I've come to torture you with breakfast. With any luck, you'll be no match for my wiles."
He narrowed his eyes at her as he quickly sat down in the closest chair. Several parchments protested his choice but he didn't care what he was sitting on so much as he was happy to give his aching head a rest from having to keep his body upright. "I'm very seldom a match for your wiles. What have I done to warrant torture?"
"You came to my party, Teddy. You came to my party and you kissed me and then you disappeared."
He swallowed convulsively before answering, "Right. I was hoping you would have forgotten about that."
"I'm not the one who was drunk. Therefore, I remember all of it. The whole ordeal. Do you remember it? Do you? Does it mean anything to you?"
"It means I was drunk and stupid."
Rose frowned. "Drunk, yes. I'll give you that one. You're not stupid, though. Mother used to go on and on about how intelligent you were so I know you aren't stupid."
And then she did something he wasn't expecting. She came up to him and, just as he was readying himself for the clout to the side of the head that she was sure to deliver, smoothed down his hair. The physical touch was a balm to his tattered spirit. For a single, solitary moment, he let himself lean into the gesture and enjoy it for what it was. A sense of peace flowed over him as if she'd sprayed him with holy water, a surer tonic against demons than his own idea of drinking them all into oblivion.
Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Do you remember dropping the present?"
This information sent his head between his knees, sure that the meals from the days prior to this were going to find a way to come up. He'd forgotten that he'd stuffed it into his pocket at the last minute, the gesture the product of a silly dream that he'd be able to hand it to her, having found courage in the bottom of the bottle at long last.
"The note you wrote.. it was beautiful. Crazy, but beautiful. The part where you-"
"I know what part you mean. You don't need to throw my words back at me."
Like father, like son. He'd known for years that his father had been known to chase his demons around a bottle, Harry glorying in telling him the cautionary tales in the hopes that Teddy would learn from his father's mistakes. In this case, maybe he was like his mother, though. She'd been the one to chase after Remus, ramming the truth of her adoration home with a verbal acuity that Teddy knew he didn't possess. He'd thought a letter would do the trick of telling Rose the words his tied tongue couldn't seem to utter. Pair it with a pretty bauble and he had an instant declaration of his affection. Now it was just an embarrassment. She must think him a fool.
"Did you mean it?"
"'Course I did. You're too young, though. It's not right what I feel for you. Never has been." His brotherly affection for her had ceased the day he'd come to the Weasley house not even a year ago and found a young woman across from him at the dining room table instead of the little girl he'd been expecting. She grown up quite suddenly but he just might not have noticed the changes in her. He'd already been in a downward spiral, his pathetic life easier to accept when he was three sheets to the end but his sudden realization had sent him over the deep end of despair and self-hatred.
A sure hand began massaging the back of his neck. "I can leave, Teddy. I can walk out of your flat and make sure that you never have to see me again. It can be that easy. Or you can continue pushing me away every time you pick up a bottle. Personally, I'd rather you just let me walk away. Watching you kill yourself isn't fun for me."
"Not fun for me, either," he muttered before he could think better of it.
"Did you mean it?" she asked again, her fingers ruffling his hair at his nape.
"Yes."
She curled her fingers into his hair and pulled his head up with a force he hadn't imagined she'd had in her. "Then let's get one thing straight between us. I think I might love you, too, but we'll never know that until you stop drinking. Clean and sober, Teddy. That's the only way this works. You can pick one or the other. Right now. Decide. If it's the bottle, I will be the one walking away and you can kill yourself as slow or as fast as you like. If you pick me," and the punctuation mark was her own version of the kiss from last night.
Her lips melded against his as if she'd learned how to kiss from an expert. The very thought of it filled him with jealousy. Lord knows he'd taught Victoire a thing or two when they were dating. There'd never been any talk of Rose dating anyone but that didn't mean there hadn't been boys intent on conquest of the more insubstantial kind. He wanted names and dates so he could go beat out the memories from them, stealing them all for himself.
As soon as he tried to get his hands to work correctly so he could hold her into place, she broke away from the kiss. "Choose."
"You." He said it without pause but he didn't need to think. There was no way that he was going to let her walk away from him. "But your father-"
"He doesn't factor into this equation. You and I are the only ones who matter. Yes, I'm only seventeen but we're still a long way from a trip down the aisle. Let's take this one step at a time. First, you're going to go take a shower and get cleaned up. Then we're going to have breakfast. After that, well, we'll discuss it."
"I will be worthy of your love."
Her smile was brilliant as she untangled her fingers from his hair, smoothing over the offended area. "Yes, I know. That's what I'm counting on."
***
Rose smoothed the front of her dress robes, her nervous fingers finding wrinkles where there were none. It was an exquisite gown, designed by Sir Hammond Ferguson, himself, as a favour to her father. In this one instance, she didn't mind that he'd poked into her affairs. For this one day, she wanted to look like the most beautiful bride in all of history because at the other end of the aisle was a man who made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world, no matter what she was wearing.
Her smothered giggle brought a frown of concern from her father. He looked so serious that she thought his heart might not be able to withstand the strain.
"Never mind," she said in response to his unasked question. "I was just being sentimental. Are all brides like this when they're waiting for the prelude to begin?"
"I wouldn't know, you being my only daughter. Your Uncle Harry tells a tale of Lily Luna crying into her bouquet on her wedding day but I'm pretty sure he was the one who was crying."
This made her laugh in earnest as she imagined the scene. "Now that you mention it, his nose was a little red and his glasses were a bit fogged over when they came down the aisle." She sighed. "I'm scared. What if this has all been a dream and I wake up to find... well, that it didn't work out the way I wanted it to?"
"Then you pinch yourself to make sure you're awake this time and go make it work. You're the most determined young lady of anyone I know. Except maybe your mother. In the next reality, could you convince her that I don't need to get a new robe for the occasion? This high collar is making my neck itch." The prelude began and he tugged at her arm, careful not to mar the stunning fabric in any way. "Ready?"
"As always." Straightening her back, she started walking. As they cleared the final doorway and she could see Teddy down at the other end of the path, Rose gave herself a subtle pinch. Nope. She wasn't dreaming. That was good. She didn't want to miss any of this.
The End
Author/Artist:
lar_laughsPrompt: Prompt 140: Rose is finally graduating from Hogwarts. If only Teddy could stay sober enough to not make a fool of himself. He wouldn't want to confess his undying love to her in the middle of her party or anything.
Pairing(s): Teddy Lupin/Rose Weasley
Word Count/Art Medium: ~4300
Rating: PG
Warning(s): use of alcohol by an adult
Disclaimer:Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Notes: Much thanks to A for always knowing when to push and when to hold back. Cheers to the best beta in the whole world!
Summary: Teddy had promised her he was going to stop drinking and she'd taken him at his word. Rose was going to have to
Rose Weasley wasn't even sure why she'd agreed to have this party. It was more about her parents than it would ever be about her, even if it was to celebrate the fact that she was leaving Hogwarts with a N. E. W. T score that had made her mother so very proud. The few friends that she'd allowed to be invited were in the kitchen, pretending to be tending to the different food dishes that still needed to be brought out. Yes, she'd demanded it be a buffet-style party because she couldn't bear to have to sit down at the same table with most of these people. Forced conversation always made her feel ill which was funny because it seemed that was all her parents did these days.
"Mother invited her Ministry friends and Father insisted on including some work friends, as well," she whispered to Anglia, her best mate, in a pained voice that bespoke of all things horrible that should not be discussed in a normal tone, of which she was getting quite good at using considering her family was a constant source of those horrible things. "All of whom are ancient and like nothing better than to ramble on about nothing for days on end. It's supposed to be a party. Mother nixed any music because it would make conversation difficult. How dull can this party be?"
Anglia gave her a sympathetic smile but it was easy to see that she was relieved that her parents hadn't thought of the same thing. Her N.E.W.T. scores weren't anything to celebrate, though. If she was lucky, she'd find a nice job on Diagon Alley were she'd meet a nice, young man that her parent didn't approve of (just to add spice to family gatherings) and spend the rest of her life raising children and following West Ward Hall and other of her favorite daily serials on the Wizarding Wireless Network.
"Have you gotten any work out of Patrice?" Rose asked as she searched the room for the other two girls she considered her close friends. "Has she been chatting up Albus this entire time?"
"Oh, she's stirring the punch. Such a strenuous task." The knowing smile lit up Anglia's face as she leaned in close to share the newest tidbit she'd received while Rose had been out, mingling like a good guest of honor. "You didn't hear this from me but she and your cousin were talking about shopping."
"Shopping? And this is something exciting?" Rose glanced over at her cousin, unsure why she cared that they were looking forward to spending money. "He does need a new wardrobe. I think that shirt used to be blue instead of the gray it is now."
The wry frown that Anglia shot her made her rethink her answer but she couldn't seem to reason it out for herself. "Not that sort of shopping, silly girl." Anglia held up her left hand and pointed to the ring finger. "That sort of shopping."
"For a ring? Already? We've only just left school. How could they do-" but she thought better of the rest of that sentence. Patrice and Albus had been inseparable for two years now. Of course they were ready for that step. Instead of trying to reason it out, Rose shrugged. "So, they'll be the first of us to be married. Knowing those two, it'll be in a library or something equally bookish."
"You're one to talk, Miss Best N.E.W.T. Score In The School."
Tristan came up behind the girls in time to swipe a biscuit from the tray that Anglia was rearranging for the third time so she could put off going into the main room. "Oh, are we talking about Rose's scores yet again? What riveting conversation. Please, by all means, include me."
"Just because you're jealous doesn't mean you can be-"
But Anglia wasn't able to finish the thought as sounds from the front room filtered through the open door of the kitchen. Raised voices competed for prominence but there was no denying the general unease that Rose suddenly felt as one voice rose above all the others. Her name, repeated over and over again, in the same helpless yelping.
"Is that-" but Anglia shushed him before Tristan could finish. Both school chums looked up at Rose with varying degrees of pity. In this instance, she would rather have their pity than the rising tide of anger from the rest of the guests.
"Do you think it's acceptable for the guest of honor to run away from her own party? Is it allowed in these instances?"
Albus was suddenly beside her, his face a mask of concern. "He'll only get worse if you don't go out there. You know you're the only one who he'll listen to when he gets like this. Father's just going to make it worse, like he so often does these days."
It was true. As much as she hated the thought of doing this in the middle of a room full of strangers, there was no way that Teddy was going to stop his caterwauling until she intervened. Even then, she couldn't guarantee success. Sometimes he was so sloshed that the inevitable oblivion that overtook him was the only thing that stopped his tirades. It was truly sad that Teddy's state had deteriorated so steadily in the past few years. She could still remember the young man that knew how to laugh, who always had something witty to say whenever there was a gathering of the whole clan. Now, the only time he came to dinner at the Weasley's was when he was too embarrassed to go to the Potter's.
"The poor dear," someone whispered as Rose walked into the room. At first, she thought the person was talking about her until she realized that no one had noticed her. All eyes were trained on Teddy Lupin.
He was still a stunning young man, the soft brown hair only just hinting at the possibility he might someday be a bit thin on top. For the most part, he could have blended in among her friends if not for the nagging sense that he'd seen and experienced things that no young person should have known about. Life had not been kind to Teddy, a fact few remarked on but couldn't help but notice at first glance. All his wounds were stuck fast in his mind and deep inside his heart.
Tonight, Teddy was weaving on his feet but had successfully fought off both Rose's father and uncle. His wand was held firmly in a hand that barely shook, a worthy weapon if someone tried to assault him. It was hard to tell if he knew exactly where he was as his rheumy eyes seemed to be having trouble focusing on any one person in the crowd. Rose wondered if he thought he was seeing quadruple of the number of people he normally found in the Weasley household because he'd been drinking or if he understood this was a party.
"Put down the wand, Teddy." Rose kept her voice firm, mindful that she needed to restore this man's honour just as much as she needed to defuse the situation. Part of the reason she was so good at doing this was because she never cajoled him, like her mother, or let him take the lead, as Uncle Harry was want to do. Their history with Teddy was different than hers.
His smile was brilliant as he turned to face her. "At last. I thought maybe you weren't here."
"It's my party. Why wouldn't I be here?"
"Party?" It was as if he noticed the people surrounding him for the first time. "I didn't know you were having a party."
"Really? You received the invitation nearly a month ago." Right about the time you went off the deep end yet again, she wanted to remind him but thought better of it. "And I dropped by your flat last week to remind you. Don't you remember?"
The effort it took for him to think back left him swaying but the wand still stayed in place. "We had shortbread. And tea."
"Yes. Two lumps of sugar. Just how you like it."
It was, perhaps, the wrong thing to say. Huge tears swelled in Teddy's eyes. "Just how she liked it." No one had to ask who he was talking about. Everyone in the room knew who he was talking about. Part of Teddy's difficulty was that he was the most notable war orphan in near history, not quite eclipsing his godfather in that regard. While Uncle Harry had learned to utilize his fame, Teddy had never been that lucky. No matter how he tried to hide, he was always that poor dear boy who lost his parents in the Battle of Hogwarts. Somewhere along the way, he'd lost himself in that history.
But Rose wasn't going to let him dwell on those hurtful thoughts. "It's one of the things you have in common with your mother, yes. Wonderful that you have that much of her, isn't it? Some people don't have the same courtesy of getting to know so much about their parents, dead or alive. So much of who our parents are is hidden from their children, in the hopes that we don't get to know their weaknesses."
She saw her father flinch while her mother's eyes narrowed. It was shameful that she was bringing their private family arguments out in front of everyone but it was the first thing that came to her mind, being so fresh in her memory. In the Weasley family, this was an argument that resurfaced every couple of years, the tragedy of having famous parents who tried their hardest to keep their secrets held tight to their chest. In an effort to keep things out of the public eye, they often also kept things away from their children without intending to do harm.
This wasn't about them, though. Not really. While they all still felt responsible for Teddy, he was a man full grown. He needed to take responsibility for himself. She had to believe that there was a grown man, complete and whole, stuck somewhere in the midst of this drunken haze, wishing he had made different choices with his life and willing to do something about it.
"Put the wand down," she demanded once again. This time he listened and tucked it into his waistband. Or thought he did. It dropped to the floor without any notice from its owner. "Come into the kitchen and get some coffee."
"I came to give you-"
"Coffee, Teddy. Then you can give me whatever you-"
"But I want to tell you that I-"
Uncle Harry decided now was a good time to say something, damn him. If he'd just given her just a little more time, she could have herded Teddy into the kitchen and away from the prying eyes. Instead, he grasped Teddy by the arm. "Why don't you-"
Teddy's fist made contact with his capture's nose. There was a scream of horror, probably from Anglia as it was rather melodramatic, even for this situation. For a moment, everyone was frozen in place but then a great current of blood began to flow out of Mr. Potter's nose and the room erupted into angry accusations. Rose lunged forward and pulled Teddy away from her uncle, tugging him frantically through the closest opening that would get the pair of them away from the crowd that was suddenly bent against this poor soul.
"You're drunk," she hissed, more angry than she'd ever been with Teddy. More hurt, too. "You've been drinking more and more even though you expressly told me you wouldn't. You said you would quit. Was that a lie?"
"Forgot." His mumbled reply was hard to hear, even in the darkened hallway. "Told you I would but I forgot."
"Why, Teddy? Why?"
But he was in his own world, oblivious to her question. He didn't seem to recognize where he was or the havoc he had caused. A part of Rose wanted to feel sorry for this pathetic man but she knew she couldn't do that. Too many people already treated Teddy like he was a broken doll, sighing over what might have been if they'd done something different with him. They had given up on him, thinking he was stuck with this particular destiny.
Before she could come up with a better plan than standing here in the darkened hallway, lost in indecision, he slumped forward. As she reached forward to catch him, she realized that he wasn't unconscious as she'd first thought. He'd meant to reach for her but had miscalculated. Now that she was where he wanted her to be, he could follow through with his plan to kiss her.
As kisses went, it wasn't bad. Rose only had one or two to compare it to but they had been quick pecks against her closed lips, taken in haste and thought better of before anything interesting could happen. This wasn't like those. Not by any stretch of the imagination. Teddy's breath smelled stale, tasted of yeast and sickness, but it was warm on hers, demanding that she give back as good as he was giving. She was sure that a sober Teddy would have been more suave about lip placement and momentum but she couldn't fault this drunk Teddy's enthusiasm for the activity.
Before she realized it, she forgot that he was drunk or that there was still a room full of party guests or even that she had ideas of what romance should entail that certainly weren't this scenerio. A riot of emotions bloomed instead of her, pushing out all reason and thought until she could only feel the heat of his body against hers as she swayed closer. When he pulled away, she wanted to pull him back to where his warmth surrounded her.
"I should go." For the first time since crashing the party, Teddy sounded sober. Or near enough to it that his words were harsh without the familiar slur they'd had so far tonight. His eyes were still foggy but were now tinged with something that might have been regret. Rose took a step back to keep herself from protesting what she knew was coming. "I didn't mean to do that, Rosie."
The nickname, something she hadn't allowed anyone to call her for a long time now, stiffened her spine but not because she didn't want him using it. It meant he was putting her firmly back into her "little girl" status instead of the "definitely an adult now" status that kiss had moved her into. She mourned what might have been but didn't move to stop him from walking back the way they'd come. All she could do was watch him walk away. When the excited buzz from the main room started up again, she knew he'd left.
It felt like hours later when she looked down at a precariously wrapped present at her feet. It hadn't been there when she'd first started down the hall. She would have remembered something that exquisitely ugly. When she bent down to pick it up, she caught a whiff of the chip shop that Teddy lived above. As she opened it, she realized that things weren't as bad as she thought they might be.
***
Precisely twelve hours after being bundled home between both Harry and Ron, Teddy's front door vibrated from the great clanging it was receiving from the hallway. His head pounded right along with the rhythm, his eyes rolling back in his head in an attempt to get away from the pain.
"Hold on," he yelled before immediately thinking better of opening his mouth again. If he did, he feared for the consequences of that action. No, better to keep his mouth shut and his voice as low and soothing as possible if he needed to use it again.
A demon must stand on the other side of the door because the pounding continued, bringing with it a steady stream of agony. When he opened it just enough to see who was on the other side, mindful of the bright lights his landlady liked to use on the landing, he realized that it was, in fact, a demon. A demon with delightfully titan hair and a smile that nearly sent him to his knees every time he witnessed it.
"Rose?" He opened his mouth but a frog answered for him. After clearing his throat, he tried again. "Have you come to flay me alive for ruining your party?"
The paper bag in her arm mocked him with the smells of fresh baked scones. It only got worse as she pushed the door open and waltzed in, graceful and lovely even in patched jeans and oversized cardigan that had once been Gryffindor red and now was a dull rust color that suited her better. She cleared a place on the table for the bag before moving to open the windows. A stiff, Atlantic breeze came in, ruffling his hair and clearing his head like nothing else could.
"I've come to torture you with breakfast. With any luck, you'll be no match for my wiles."
He narrowed his eyes at her as he quickly sat down in the closest chair. Several parchments protested his choice but he didn't care what he was sitting on so much as he was happy to give his aching head a rest from having to keep his body upright. "I'm very seldom a match for your wiles. What have I done to warrant torture?"
"You came to my party, Teddy. You came to my party and you kissed me and then you disappeared."
He swallowed convulsively before answering, "Right. I was hoping you would have forgotten about that."
"I'm not the one who was drunk. Therefore, I remember all of it. The whole ordeal. Do you remember it? Do you? Does it mean anything to you?"
"It means I was drunk and stupid."
Rose frowned. "Drunk, yes. I'll give you that one. You're not stupid, though. Mother used to go on and on about how intelligent you were so I know you aren't stupid."
And then she did something he wasn't expecting. She came up to him and, just as he was readying himself for the clout to the side of the head that she was sure to deliver, smoothed down his hair. The physical touch was a balm to his tattered spirit. For a single, solitary moment, he let himself lean into the gesture and enjoy it for what it was. A sense of peace flowed over him as if she'd sprayed him with holy water, a surer tonic against demons than his own idea of drinking them all into oblivion.
Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Do you remember dropping the present?"
This information sent his head between his knees, sure that the meals from the days prior to this were going to find a way to come up. He'd forgotten that he'd stuffed it into his pocket at the last minute, the gesture the product of a silly dream that he'd be able to hand it to her, having found courage in the bottom of the bottle at long last.
"The note you wrote.. it was beautiful. Crazy, but beautiful. The part where you-"
"I know what part you mean. You don't need to throw my words back at me."
Like father, like son. He'd known for years that his father had been known to chase his demons around a bottle, Harry glorying in telling him the cautionary tales in the hopes that Teddy would learn from his father's mistakes. In this case, maybe he was like his mother, though. She'd been the one to chase after Remus, ramming the truth of her adoration home with a verbal acuity that Teddy knew he didn't possess. He'd thought a letter would do the trick of telling Rose the words his tied tongue couldn't seem to utter. Pair it with a pretty bauble and he had an instant declaration of his affection. Now it was just an embarrassment. She must think him a fool.
"Did you mean it?"
"'Course I did. You're too young, though. It's not right what I feel for you. Never has been." His brotherly affection for her had ceased the day he'd come to the Weasley house not even a year ago and found a young woman across from him at the dining room table instead of the little girl he'd been expecting. She grown up quite suddenly but he just might not have noticed the changes in her. He'd already been in a downward spiral, his pathetic life easier to accept when he was three sheets to the end but his sudden realization had sent him over the deep end of despair and self-hatred.
A sure hand began massaging the back of his neck. "I can leave, Teddy. I can walk out of your flat and make sure that you never have to see me again. It can be that easy. Or you can continue pushing me away every time you pick up a bottle. Personally, I'd rather you just let me walk away. Watching you kill yourself isn't fun for me."
"Not fun for me, either," he muttered before he could think better of it.
"Did you mean it?" she asked again, her fingers ruffling his hair at his nape.
"Yes."
She curled her fingers into his hair and pulled his head up with a force he hadn't imagined she'd had in her. "Then let's get one thing straight between us. I think I might love you, too, but we'll never know that until you stop drinking. Clean and sober, Teddy. That's the only way this works. You can pick one or the other. Right now. Decide. If it's the bottle, I will be the one walking away and you can kill yourself as slow or as fast as you like. If you pick me," and the punctuation mark was her own version of the kiss from last night.
Her lips melded against his as if she'd learned how to kiss from an expert. The very thought of it filled him with jealousy. Lord knows he'd taught Victoire a thing or two when they were dating. There'd never been any talk of Rose dating anyone but that didn't mean there hadn't been boys intent on conquest of the more insubstantial kind. He wanted names and dates so he could go beat out the memories from them, stealing them all for himself.
As soon as he tried to get his hands to work correctly so he could hold her into place, she broke away from the kiss. "Choose."
"You." He said it without pause but he didn't need to think. There was no way that he was going to let her walk away from him. "But your father-"
"He doesn't factor into this equation. You and I are the only ones who matter. Yes, I'm only seventeen but we're still a long way from a trip down the aisle. Let's take this one step at a time. First, you're going to go take a shower and get cleaned up. Then we're going to have breakfast. After that, well, we'll discuss it."
"I will be worthy of your love."
Her smile was brilliant as she untangled her fingers from his hair, smoothing over the offended area. "Yes, I know. That's what I'm counting on."
***
Rose smoothed the front of her dress robes, her nervous fingers finding wrinkles where there were none. It was an exquisite gown, designed by Sir Hammond Ferguson, himself, as a favour to her father. In this one instance, she didn't mind that he'd poked into her affairs. For this one day, she wanted to look like the most beautiful bride in all of history because at the other end of the aisle was a man who made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world, no matter what she was wearing.
Her smothered giggle brought a frown of concern from her father. He looked so serious that she thought his heart might not be able to withstand the strain.
"Never mind," she said in response to his unasked question. "I was just being sentimental. Are all brides like this when they're waiting for the prelude to begin?"
"I wouldn't know, you being my only daughter. Your Uncle Harry tells a tale of Lily Luna crying into her bouquet on her wedding day but I'm pretty sure he was the one who was crying."
This made her laugh in earnest as she imagined the scene. "Now that you mention it, his nose was a little red and his glasses were a bit fogged over when they came down the aisle." She sighed. "I'm scared. What if this has all been a dream and I wake up to find... well, that it didn't work out the way I wanted it to?"
"Then you pinch yourself to make sure you're awake this time and go make it work. You're the most determined young lady of anyone I know. Except maybe your mother. In the next reality, could you convince her that I don't need to get a new robe for the occasion? This high collar is making my neck itch." The prelude began and he tugged at her arm, careful not to mar the stunning fabric in any way. "Ready?"
"As always." Straightening her back, she started walking. As they cleared the final doorway and she could see Teddy down at the other end of the path, Rose gave herself a subtle pinch. Nope. She wasn't dreaming. That was good. She didn't want to miss any of this.
The End
