sam_storyteller (
sam_storyteller) wrote2005-07-15 03:25 pm
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Entry tags:
The Rules Of Being A Godson 2/3
Title: The Rules of Being A Godson
Chapter Two: Nimbus Broomsticks Can't Brake for Shit
Fic by
copperbadge, art by
elaboration.
Rating: PG-13 all over.
Warnings: Deathly Hallows Spoilers through the end of the book.
Notes: Thanks to Heidi, Simon, Judy, and Tai for the betas!
Chapter One: Things You Can't Do At Hogwarts
Chapter Three: Lupins Always Look Out For Potters
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN...ENGLAND NATIONAL!"
Teddy and Harry leapt to their feet, screaming and clapping, Harry helping Lily up onto her seat so she could wave her flag furiously. The English players took the field while fireworks exploded in the stands, and Teddy thrust his omnioculars into Albus' hands so that the younger boy could get a proper look.
"There he is!" Harry shouted, pointing at the last player to emerge, smaller than the others but pulling by far the most outrageous stunts on his broomstick. "JAMES! JAMES POTTER! JAMES POTTER! JAMES POTTER!"
"He can't hear you!" Teddy called above the roar of the crowds.
"SOD IF I CARE!" Harry shouted back. Teddy touched the little copper device in his ear, trying to tune into what the announcers were saying, since any speech was totally drowned out by the cheering Quidditch World Cup crowds.
"....not heavily favoured to win, especially not against a Romanian team led by Viktor Krum," someone was saying.
"They're a very young team, Sal, it's true," said a second voice.
"Very young indeed. Their Seeker's only nineteen, is that right, Lee? I have something here that says his birthday isn't for another three days."
"Yes, but what a nineteen he is! You know, I watched his father play when he was a student and later I covered some matches when he took the Cannons to victory as a young man and even so I haven't seen anything like James Potter when it comes to tight gameplay. He definitely has his father's hands."
"And there...yes, from here we can see Harry Potter, the famous -- one might almost say infamous -- Harry Potter in the Minister's booth, on his feet, cheering on England National and his son. Looks like the whole family up there, brother Albus, sister Lily, I think I see Ginevra Potter; didn't she play as well, Lee?"
"And I think that's where Potter gets his precision from, if we're being perfectly honest," Lee Jordan replied. "Win or lose, Sal, this game is going to be something to watch. English National is an incredibly choreographed team. It looks like someone up there has an All Hearing Ear -- hey! Tell Harry to wave for the crowds!"
"Lee Jordan says to wave," Teddy shouted. Harry beamed, Lily's flag getting in his face as he waved. The decibel level of the crowd rose a notch.
"A nice family tribute for a great team," Lee concluded. "AND HERE COMES ROMANIA!"
Teddy switched the All Hearing Ear off and settled into his seat again, clapping more politely for Romania. Quidditch didn't really fascinate him and he wasn't good enough to spot the choreography that Lee was talking about, but once the game began he had fun watching James play and listening to the reactions of Harry and Lily, not to mention Aunt Ginny's running commentary. Aunt Ginny was a huge Quidditch fan, and as with all huge Quidditch fans, her emotions sometimes got the best of her.
"HIT IT AT THE OTHER TEAM!" she shouted at one of the Beaters. "WHAT KIND OF BEATING IS THAT?"
Albus elbowed Teddy. "Hey, I want a butterbeer and some popcorn. Want to come?"
"Yeah. Let's go down pitchside though," Teddy replied, as they edged their way out. He turned back and made a drinking motion at Harry, who nodded and held up three fingers.
"Pitchside?" Albus asked. "What good's that? There's a stand right here."
"I like to watch Quidditch from the Pitch," Teddy answered. "I'll show you."
They made their way down the network of ladders, Teddy giving Albus a play-by-play as he had it from Lee Jordan. By the time the reached the ground level, in amongst the standing-room-only crowd, the score was eighty to sixty with Romania looking to cream the England defence.
"See, look," Teddy said, pointing upwards. "Look at the patterns."
Albus turned his face up, entranced, lifting the omnioculars to fix (as always) on his brother James. Teddy ambled over to a food stall and bought five butterbeers, two bags of popcorn, and some roasted nuts for Aunt Ginny. He handed the basket of drinks to Albus.
"Score's sixty-hundred now," Albus said gloomily.
"They could still get up. And there's always the Snitch -- " Teddy cut off abruptly. "Look, isn't that..."
"It looks like the Seekers have found what they were looking for," Lee's voice, hugely amplified, rang out across the stadium. "Yes -- Krum's slightly in the lead but Potter's catching up fast. Look at that dive, folks, that's a classic Harpies inversion, they are literally back to back and neck and neck. They say Potter has a longer reach than Krum, but Krum's been playing this game a long time and is still well in his prime, he knows a few tricks -- see him shoulder Potter off there -- Potter making up for lost time -- Krum's reaching -- Potter diving fast, older players don't put on that much speed, too cautious -- play above still furious and Romania's got the Quaffle near -- ROMANIA SCORES -- BUT POTTER HAS THE SNITCH! THE GAME IS OVER, THE CUP GOES TO ENGLAND, AND JAMES POTTER HAS THE SNITCH!"
Teddy whooped and cheered with Albus, barely able to see James and his one outstretched hand, the little golden ball clutched tightly between his fingers. But...
"He's still diving," Albus said.
"It's a stunt," Teddy answered, trying to sound more confident than he was.
"That's a bloody dangerous stunt."
Lee's voice had changed. "Krum has pulled away and the English team are gathering but James Potter can't seem to pull out of the dive -- looks as though the braking charm may not be enough -- MERLIN. PULL UP, POTTER!"
The crowd, which a second before had been rabidly cheering, grew hushed as James continued his descent. He was going too fast, ridiculously fast, and it looked like he was panicking.
"POTTER, PULL UP!" Lee screamed.
Teddy saw James lean back slowly, one arm still outstretched, his shoulders practically touching the straws on his broomstick. He slid one leg around and touched his toes to the shaft. As the broomstick arrowed towards the ground, he jumped straight up.
"POTTER JUMPS HIS BROOMSTICK AS IT CONTINUES TO FALL -- HE'S IN FREE FALL. SOMEBODY GET ON THE PITCH -- SOMEBODY IS ON THE PITCH," Lee said, and Teddy realised it was him.
He had discarded the food in his hands and was running, chest heaving, feet pounding across the slick manicured grass even as James seemed to float for a minute before tumbling earthwards. He was too high up, still twenty feet at least off the ground. Teddy could see the silvery wings of the Snitch beating frantically against James' fingers.
The broomstick struck the grass and drove itself into the ground below, sticking straight up and quivering. James was falling -- there was a tremendous thud --
"JAMES," Teddy shouted, slipping and nearly tumbling head-over-heels as he tried to stop next to the crumpled body of his godfather's son.
"HARRY AND GINNY POTTER ARE DESCENDING THE STANDS -- LET THEM THROUGH -- HEALERS ARE TAKING THE FIELD," Lee continued to run commentary as if the game hadn't ended. "IT'S CHAOS HERE AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP."
"James," Teddy said, dropping to the grass and leaning over the younger man. "James, open your eyes. Come on, Jem, open up, it's Teddy."
He didn't realise he'd been holding his breath until James' eyes fluttered open. "Teddy?" he croaked.
"Don't move, mate, you've had a fall. You've got the Snitch, you won, it's okay. You're going to be okay," Teddy said, smoothing James' messy hair back.
"I jumped, huh?"
"Yeah. You were brilliant." Teddy was only vaguely aware that Albus had dropped in the grass next to him, that in the distance Harry was racing the Healers to get to his son.
"Fucking Nimbus," James murmured. "Should have gone with a Firebolt. Can't brake for shit."
Teddy laughed a little. "Don't talk, okay?"
"Sokay Teddy. You said I was gon' be fine." James closed his eyes. "Do I ha' the Snitch?"
Teddy looked at James' outflung hand. "Yeah. Can't you feel it?"
"Can't feel much," James murmured.
"James, hang on -- JAMES!" Teddy shouted, as arms began to pull him away. Healers were crouching over James now, and someone had their arm around Teddy's chest. One of the other players, one of James' teammates was tugging him backwards. "Let go of me!"
"It's all right, son," the man said. "They got him. Hey, someone stop Potter!"
Teddy watched, tugging on the arm around his chest, as Viktor Krum tore Harry away from his son, making a path for the Healers to levitate him off the field.
"That's my son!" Harry shouted. "Let me go, it's my son!"
James turned his head, floating eerily. Silence reigned in the stands. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the Snitch soaring through the air, and Krum released Harry long enough for the other man to pick it out of the air as if he were a Seeker himself.
Which he was, of course.
The arms holding Teddy loosened as Harry stared down at the little golden ball. He ran to Harry, who was wrapping Aunt Ginny in his arms, the pair of them looking lost and alone on the field. Harry was weeping.
"He'll be okay," Teddy said uncertainly. "He talked to me. I told him he'll be okay. He'll be okay."
***
The young man slouched in one of Harry's living-room chairs accepted his tea gratefully, and when he turned his worried face up to Harry it was like some kind of reverse deja-vu; there were the premature lines, the youth belied by fear and doubt that he'd seen so often on the face of Remus Lupin when he was alive. Only this time the Lupin was looking to him for help and solace instead of the other way around.
"Thanks," Teddy said, sipping the hot tea cautiously.
"You're welcome. The least I could do; James was getting fractious and he wanted to see you. I hope we didn't disrupt your work."
Teddy waved it off. "This is more important. Crime is always happening; let someone else deal with it for a while."
"How was he when you came down?"
"Still in bed, being fretted over. Ginny kicked me out. She takes after Gran Molly just a little bit, huh?"
Harry laughed. "She can, sometimes. She was glad you could come see James, though. I talked with his Captain and the Healers today, by the way."
"Oh? What's the news?"
"Well, he'll play Quidditch again, that is if he wants to. His Captain is having a downright war with the Nimbus corporation. Nimbus said they never tested the braking charms at the speeds James was going, since nobody should be going that fast. He asked them if they thought Quidditch was some kind of modified game of Gobstones. They got a little huffy."
"That's what James said to me on the field. Fucking Nimbus, should have gone with a Firebolt."
"I've been meaning to talk to you about that," Harry said. "You running on the Pitch and everything. That was a good thing you did, Ted. You know that."
"It's not like it was a decision. It was James, that's all," Teddy said, looking down at his tea.
"It was courageous and loyal. Not that I expected anything less. You remind me so much of your parents sometimes."
Teddy looked up sharply.
"I...think about your father a lot," Harry said. "When I see you. And your mum. You're so quiet, Ted. Your dad was that way. I doubt any of us knew him, Arthur probably best. And I can see things in you...I can see your mum in you, all her passion for life. I wish I saw it more. Still..."
He hesitated. Perhaps it was time Teddy knew; he had a right to know. He and Teddy were the only children, after all, of the four people who had been Harry's solace at the hardest time of his life.
"when I..." Harry stopped and started again. "When I fought Voldemort...you know the story."
"That he killed you and you came back?" Teddy asked.
"Right. I went out there to die, you know," Harry said. "I've never told anyone this part, not even Ginny. When I went to die, Albus Dumbledore left me something. He thought it would help. It did, it did -- he left me this...thing. It calls up the dead. They're just -- not ghosts but spirits, do you see what I mean?"
"I think so."
"I needed someone with me, I couldn't go alone," Harry felt himself tumbling backwards into a painful, bloody past; he grasped the arm of his chair to anchor himself, a reminder that this was a story he was telling, not living any longer. "I only thought my parents would come, James' grandparents. They came to walk with me, and Sirius too. The people who loved me the most. People who'd died for me. And your father was there. Remus. I'd just seen his body..."
"Harry, you don't have to -- "
"No, you should understand. They said they'd go with me, the four of them, and Remus said he was sorry he'd never know you. Remus was with me too. When I went to die. And when I saw you with my son..."
Ted sat listening quietly, but Harry saw his hands shaking.
"It seems there's always a Lupin looking out for us Potters," Harry said finally, a ghost of a smile on his face. "Your father and mother would be so proud of you, Ted. Ginny and I are both proud of you. I wouldn't have wanted anyone else to be with my son when he was in pain."
Ted nodded. "Well, it's a family duty, you know. It's in the bylaws somewhere. Must always rescue Potters from themselves."
Harry burst out laughing. "See? There's the Tonks in you."
"Well, that being the case and all..." Teddy looked uncertain. "Listen, James and I talked about maybe me taking him away for a bit, just to get him out of the house. Ginny's..."
"Smothering him?"
"Not exactly, but it's not easy being a big Quidditch star and having your mum trying to do your laundry and stuff. The Healers say he needs a few months, right?"
"Right..."
"So, a few weeks with me, he'll be feeling better, up on his feet again, and he'll have had some quiet. I'm gone all day, he can do what he wants, and I'm not a bad cook."
Harry nodded. "He might like that, I think he would. Let me think about it, okay?"
"Sure." Ted hesitated. "Harry, you don't think I'm...my dad wasn't cold, was he? Am I cold?"
Harry smiled. "Theodore Remus Lupin, your father was many things, but cold was not one of them. And if you were you wouldn't be asking to take an invalid off our hands right now and look after him yourself. You're who you are. No changing that."
"Right," Ted said. "No changing that."
***
The boy -- no, he was a man now -- was lying on the floor of Teddy's flat, arms splayed, eyes closed. For a terrible moment, Teddy thought he'd slipped and fallen, and the grocery bag in one hand slid to the carpet.
"James?" he asked uncertainly, vaulting his sofa easily and landing next to him. "James, are you okay?"
"This feels amazing," James said, stretching his shoulders. "Coach told me to lie down to get the spine all stretched out, but mum wouldn't let me out of bed. I've been here for hours. Try it!"
Teddy laughed with relief and flopped down next to him, covering his eyes with his hands.
"Thought you'd fallen," he said. James gave another happy wriggle.
"Well, it took me a while to get out of bed and then I sort of had a nap on the sofa after I made tea," he admitted.
"You're not supposed to be walking around yet."
"Come on, Ted, I play Quidditch for a living, I'm used to a little pain," James replied. "Doesn't it feel nice?"
Teddy had to admit that several of his vertebrae had just popped; he'd been tense all day, leaving James alone while he went into the office. There'd been two call-outs for potions violations and he'd barely had the wits by day's end to stop and get some food for dinner. If James hadn't been there he would probably have just ordered Chinese and then gone to bed.
"You want some dinner?" he asked. "Harry said lots of protein, so I got chicken."
"God, I'm sick of chicken. Can we order Chinese?"
Teddy laughed. "If you want. Now you've trapped me down here though, I don't want to move."
"I'm not hungry yet. How'd your day go?"
"Well enough. Hey, I brought the Prophet with me," Teddy said. "Accio newspaper!"
The newspaper flung itself out of the bag and zipped into his hands; he unfolded it, showing James that for the first time in a week his photo wasn't on the front page.
"Let's see...oh, that poor Potter boy's still at home recovering," he said, mimicking a flighty, querulous voice even as his hair turned white and wrinkles sprung up all over. James turned to look at him and laughed. "James Potter remains in seclusion after a near-fatal fall during the Quidditch Cup. I'm sure I don't know what these young whippersnappers get up to..."
James clutched his stomach, writhing with laughter. Teddy lengthened his hair and softened his face into femininity.
"Well I don't know about you but I am so terribly tired of hearing about Quidditch. I hope that poor boy comes to his senses and does something useful for a living like regulating cauldron-bottom thicknesses. Read us the fashion page, dear." He sank back into his own features, hair turning scarlet. James' laughter subsided. "So, do you want the fashion page? The sports page is all secondhand about you, and the Cannons are getting trounced again."
"You know, everyone says you're so serious but I guess they just don't know you," James said. "Pass us the funnies."
Teddy lifted a page out of the middle of the paper deftly, contenting himself with the editorials.
"This is fun," James said. "Thanks for having me over to stay."
"My pleasure."
"It's not trouble, is it? I mean if you wanted to bring someone home I could always disappear for a night."
Teddy shook his head. "Never have time for dating, you know how it is. Once I get my promotion to field supervisor, maybe."
"No special boy for Teddy?" James asked, as Ted rolled over to flatting the newspaper on the floor and prop himself on his elbows. "You should play Quidditch. Whole roomfuls of gorgeous fit men, showering naked."
"Who would laugh me off the field if they saw me fly," Teddy snorted. "Now, if you want to bring someone home, you let me know and I'll discreetly stay in the kitchen or something."
"Nah. I'm an invalid, remember? It'll be days before I go out again," James said ruefully. "Weeks, I reckon, before I'm up for pulling."
"Can I help with the boredom at all?" Teddy asked, and James glanced at him curiously.
"No, I can keep busy, there are playbooks to work on and you've got plenty to read, and there's the Muggle Telly if I get really bored," he said, but there was an amused tone in his voice.
As James turned back to the newspaper, Teddy studied his face to see if it was true; he'd become a good gauge of liars in the past few years, and he saw that James was telling the truth about boredom...but possibly leaving something out. Well, he'd tell him in good time.
James was handsome, he supposed, surprised that he'd never noticed before. He had Harry's dark hair, curlier than his father's, and his mother's slim face and pointed nose. Just a handful of freckles spattered his cheeks, the rest of his face tanned by hours outside on the Pitch. He did have Harry's hands too, broad palms and dextrous fingers. He looked older than his twenty years, but professional Quidditch had grown him up quickly, and he seemed to handle it all with a remarkable calm.
In profile his face was relaxed and cheerful, almost arrogant; Teddy supposed you had to be a little arrogant to dive straight for the ground at high speeds and think you'd survive.
His stomach lurched slightly, and the realisation hit him like a half-dozen bludgers even as he fought the urge to reach out and smooth James' hair back again.
He was in love with James Potter.
Oh. Shit.
"What?" James asked, turning to look at him. "Take a picture, Teddy, it'll last longer."
"Just making sure you're okay," Teddy said, frantically hiding the blush creeping up his cheeks, grateful his hair was already fire-engine red and couldn't turn any redder. He busied himself smoothing out the editorials page, but the words wouldn't assemble themselves properly before his eyes.
"Oog," James said. "I'm cramping."
"Probably time to get off the floor," Teddy said. He stood and automatically extended a hand to help James up; it took a bit of pulling and James tumbled into him, righting himself with both hands on Teddy's shoulders. Oh, balls.
James pivoted before Teddy could say anything, stretching out his hands and falling onto the sofa with utter faith. He grinned at Teddy, summoned the paper without a word, and folded the comics page to keep reading.
"I'll go order some food," Teddy mumbled, his mind completely disarrayed. He made for the kitchen where the Muggle telephone resided and leaned on the sink.
He couldn't be in love with James, that was ludicrous. He'd known him since he was a baby, learned from Harry how to change a nappy with James as hands-on instruction. He still had drawings the six-year-old had sent him, carefully packed in his school trunk. He'd looked after him for two years at school and been the one James came to for convincing that he should still do his seventh year and finish his NEWTs when Puddlemere wanted to sign him straight out of sixth year. This was just protectiveness because James was vulnerable, he just loved him like he loved Harry and Aunt Ginny -- James was like his cousin. He and Albus and Lily were practically the siblings he'd never had.
He was just feeling protective. He'd help James get back on his feet, show him a good time in London, and then pack him back to his parents' house.
Teddy reached resolutely for the telephone and then had to make three tries before he got the number right.
Two days later he came home to find the flat in utter disarray, newspaper clippings and sheets of parchment everywhere. James had apparently been catching up not only with his own press but with every Quidditch team in the country. Most of the parchment scraps had playbook diagrams scrawled on them, and there were several abandoned teacups littering the living room.
Instead of freaking out that his flat was a mess, which was what had made his last boyfriend give up on him in despair, Teddy grinned to himself and began collecting up the teacups.
He was definitely in trouble.
Chapter Two: Nimbus Broomsticks Can't Brake for Shit
Fic by
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Rating: PG-13 all over.
Warnings: Deathly Hallows Spoilers through the end of the book.
Notes: Thanks to Heidi, Simon, Judy, and Tai for the betas!
Chapter One: Things You Can't Do At Hogwarts
Chapter Three: Lupins Always Look Out For Potters
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN...ENGLAND NATIONAL!"
Teddy and Harry leapt to their feet, screaming and clapping, Harry helping Lily up onto her seat so she could wave her flag furiously. The English players took the field while fireworks exploded in the stands, and Teddy thrust his omnioculars into Albus' hands so that the younger boy could get a proper look.
"There he is!" Harry shouted, pointing at the last player to emerge, smaller than the others but pulling by far the most outrageous stunts on his broomstick. "JAMES! JAMES POTTER! JAMES POTTER! JAMES POTTER!"
"He can't hear you!" Teddy called above the roar of the crowds.
"SOD IF I CARE!" Harry shouted back. Teddy touched the little copper device in his ear, trying to tune into what the announcers were saying, since any speech was totally drowned out by the cheering Quidditch World Cup crowds.
"....not heavily favoured to win, especially not against a Romanian team led by Viktor Krum," someone was saying.
"They're a very young team, Sal, it's true," said a second voice.
"Very young indeed. Their Seeker's only nineteen, is that right, Lee? I have something here that says his birthday isn't for another three days."
"Yes, but what a nineteen he is! You know, I watched his father play when he was a student and later I covered some matches when he took the Cannons to victory as a young man and even so I haven't seen anything like James Potter when it comes to tight gameplay. He definitely has his father's hands."
"And there...yes, from here we can see Harry Potter, the famous -- one might almost say infamous -- Harry Potter in the Minister's booth, on his feet, cheering on England National and his son. Looks like the whole family up there, brother Albus, sister Lily, I think I see Ginevra Potter; didn't she play as well, Lee?"
"And I think that's where Potter gets his precision from, if we're being perfectly honest," Lee Jordan replied. "Win or lose, Sal, this game is going to be something to watch. English National is an incredibly choreographed team. It looks like someone up there has an All Hearing Ear -- hey! Tell Harry to wave for the crowds!"
"Lee Jordan says to wave," Teddy shouted. Harry beamed, Lily's flag getting in his face as he waved. The decibel level of the crowd rose a notch.
"A nice family tribute for a great team," Lee concluded. "AND HERE COMES ROMANIA!"
Teddy switched the All Hearing Ear off and settled into his seat again, clapping more politely for Romania. Quidditch didn't really fascinate him and he wasn't good enough to spot the choreography that Lee was talking about, but once the game began he had fun watching James play and listening to the reactions of Harry and Lily, not to mention Aunt Ginny's running commentary. Aunt Ginny was a huge Quidditch fan, and as with all huge Quidditch fans, her emotions sometimes got the best of her.
"HIT IT AT THE OTHER TEAM!" she shouted at one of the Beaters. "WHAT KIND OF BEATING IS THAT?"
Albus elbowed Teddy. "Hey, I want a butterbeer and some popcorn. Want to come?"
"Yeah. Let's go down pitchside though," Teddy replied, as they edged their way out. He turned back and made a drinking motion at Harry, who nodded and held up three fingers.
"Pitchside?" Albus asked. "What good's that? There's a stand right here."
"I like to watch Quidditch from the Pitch," Teddy answered. "I'll show you."
They made their way down the network of ladders, Teddy giving Albus a play-by-play as he had it from Lee Jordan. By the time the reached the ground level, in amongst the standing-room-only crowd, the score was eighty to sixty with Romania looking to cream the England defence.
"See, look," Teddy said, pointing upwards. "Look at the patterns."
Albus turned his face up, entranced, lifting the omnioculars to fix (as always) on his brother James. Teddy ambled over to a food stall and bought five butterbeers, two bags of popcorn, and some roasted nuts for Aunt Ginny. He handed the basket of drinks to Albus.
"Score's sixty-hundred now," Albus said gloomily.
"They could still get up. And there's always the Snitch -- " Teddy cut off abruptly. "Look, isn't that..."
"It looks like the Seekers have found what they were looking for," Lee's voice, hugely amplified, rang out across the stadium. "Yes -- Krum's slightly in the lead but Potter's catching up fast. Look at that dive, folks, that's a classic Harpies inversion, they are literally back to back and neck and neck. They say Potter has a longer reach than Krum, but Krum's been playing this game a long time and is still well in his prime, he knows a few tricks -- see him shoulder Potter off there -- Potter making up for lost time -- Krum's reaching -- Potter diving fast, older players don't put on that much speed, too cautious -- play above still furious and Romania's got the Quaffle near -- ROMANIA SCORES -- BUT POTTER HAS THE SNITCH! THE GAME IS OVER, THE CUP GOES TO ENGLAND, AND JAMES POTTER HAS THE SNITCH!"
Teddy whooped and cheered with Albus, barely able to see James and his one outstretched hand, the little golden ball clutched tightly between his fingers. But...
"He's still diving," Albus said.
"It's a stunt," Teddy answered, trying to sound more confident than he was.
"That's a bloody dangerous stunt."
Lee's voice had changed. "Krum has pulled away and the English team are gathering but James Potter can't seem to pull out of the dive -- looks as though the braking charm may not be enough -- MERLIN. PULL UP, POTTER!"
The crowd, which a second before had been rabidly cheering, grew hushed as James continued his descent. He was going too fast, ridiculously fast, and it looked like he was panicking.
"POTTER, PULL UP!" Lee screamed.
Teddy saw James lean back slowly, one arm still outstretched, his shoulders practically touching the straws on his broomstick. He slid one leg around and touched his toes to the shaft. As the broomstick arrowed towards the ground, he jumped straight up.
"POTTER JUMPS HIS BROOMSTICK AS IT CONTINUES TO FALL -- HE'S IN FREE FALL. SOMEBODY GET ON THE PITCH -- SOMEBODY IS ON THE PITCH," Lee said, and Teddy realised it was him.
He had discarded the food in his hands and was running, chest heaving, feet pounding across the slick manicured grass even as James seemed to float for a minute before tumbling earthwards. He was too high up, still twenty feet at least off the ground. Teddy could see the silvery wings of the Snitch beating frantically against James' fingers.
The broomstick struck the grass and drove itself into the ground below, sticking straight up and quivering. James was falling -- there was a tremendous thud --
"JAMES," Teddy shouted, slipping and nearly tumbling head-over-heels as he tried to stop next to the crumpled body of his godfather's son.
"HARRY AND GINNY POTTER ARE DESCENDING THE STANDS -- LET THEM THROUGH -- HEALERS ARE TAKING THE FIELD," Lee continued to run commentary as if the game hadn't ended. "IT'S CHAOS HERE AT THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP."
"James," Teddy said, dropping to the grass and leaning over the younger man. "James, open your eyes. Come on, Jem, open up, it's Teddy."
He didn't realise he'd been holding his breath until James' eyes fluttered open. "Teddy?" he croaked.
"Don't move, mate, you've had a fall. You've got the Snitch, you won, it's okay. You're going to be okay," Teddy said, smoothing James' messy hair back.
"I jumped, huh?"
"Yeah. You were brilliant." Teddy was only vaguely aware that Albus had dropped in the grass next to him, that in the distance Harry was racing the Healers to get to his son.
"Fucking Nimbus," James murmured. "Should have gone with a Firebolt. Can't brake for shit."
Teddy laughed a little. "Don't talk, okay?"
"Sokay Teddy. You said I was gon' be fine." James closed his eyes. "Do I ha' the Snitch?"
Teddy looked at James' outflung hand. "Yeah. Can't you feel it?"
"Can't feel much," James murmured.
"James, hang on -- JAMES!" Teddy shouted, as arms began to pull him away. Healers were crouching over James now, and someone had their arm around Teddy's chest. One of the other players, one of James' teammates was tugging him backwards. "Let go of me!"
"It's all right, son," the man said. "They got him. Hey, someone stop Potter!"
Teddy watched, tugging on the arm around his chest, as Viktor Krum tore Harry away from his son, making a path for the Healers to levitate him off the field.
"That's my son!" Harry shouted. "Let me go, it's my son!"
James turned his head, floating eerily. Silence reigned in the stands. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the Snitch soaring through the air, and Krum released Harry long enough for the other man to pick it out of the air as if he were a Seeker himself.
Which he was, of course.
The arms holding Teddy loosened as Harry stared down at the little golden ball. He ran to Harry, who was wrapping Aunt Ginny in his arms, the pair of them looking lost and alone on the field. Harry was weeping.
"He'll be okay," Teddy said uncertainly. "He talked to me. I told him he'll be okay. He'll be okay."
***
The young man slouched in one of Harry's living-room chairs accepted his tea gratefully, and when he turned his worried face up to Harry it was like some kind of reverse deja-vu; there were the premature lines, the youth belied by fear and doubt that he'd seen so often on the face of Remus Lupin when he was alive. Only this time the Lupin was looking to him for help and solace instead of the other way around.
"Thanks," Teddy said, sipping the hot tea cautiously.
"You're welcome. The least I could do; James was getting fractious and he wanted to see you. I hope we didn't disrupt your work."
Teddy waved it off. "This is more important. Crime is always happening; let someone else deal with it for a while."
"How was he when you came down?"
"Still in bed, being fretted over. Ginny kicked me out. She takes after Gran Molly just a little bit, huh?"
Harry laughed. "She can, sometimes. She was glad you could come see James, though. I talked with his Captain and the Healers today, by the way."
"Oh? What's the news?"
"Well, he'll play Quidditch again, that is if he wants to. His Captain is having a downright war with the Nimbus corporation. Nimbus said they never tested the braking charms at the speeds James was going, since nobody should be going that fast. He asked them if they thought Quidditch was some kind of modified game of Gobstones. They got a little huffy."
"That's what James said to me on the field. Fucking Nimbus, should have gone with a Firebolt."
"I've been meaning to talk to you about that," Harry said. "You running on the Pitch and everything. That was a good thing you did, Ted. You know that."
"It's not like it was a decision. It was James, that's all," Teddy said, looking down at his tea.
"It was courageous and loyal. Not that I expected anything less. You remind me so much of your parents sometimes."
Teddy looked up sharply.
"I...think about your father a lot," Harry said. "When I see you. And your mum. You're so quiet, Ted. Your dad was that way. I doubt any of us knew him, Arthur probably best. And I can see things in you...I can see your mum in you, all her passion for life. I wish I saw it more. Still..."
He hesitated. Perhaps it was time Teddy knew; he had a right to know. He and Teddy were the only children, after all, of the four people who had been Harry's solace at the hardest time of his life.
"when I..." Harry stopped and started again. "When I fought Voldemort...you know the story."
"That he killed you and you came back?" Teddy asked.
"Right. I went out there to die, you know," Harry said. "I've never told anyone this part, not even Ginny. When I went to die, Albus Dumbledore left me something. He thought it would help. It did, it did -- he left me this...thing. It calls up the dead. They're just -- not ghosts but spirits, do you see what I mean?"
"I think so."
"I needed someone with me, I couldn't go alone," Harry felt himself tumbling backwards into a painful, bloody past; he grasped the arm of his chair to anchor himself, a reminder that this was a story he was telling, not living any longer. "I only thought my parents would come, James' grandparents. They came to walk with me, and Sirius too. The people who loved me the most. People who'd died for me. And your father was there. Remus. I'd just seen his body..."
"Harry, you don't have to -- "
"No, you should understand. They said they'd go with me, the four of them, and Remus said he was sorry he'd never know you. Remus was with me too. When I went to die. And when I saw you with my son..."
Ted sat listening quietly, but Harry saw his hands shaking.
"It seems there's always a Lupin looking out for us Potters," Harry said finally, a ghost of a smile on his face. "Your father and mother would be so proud of you, Ted. Ginny and I are both proud of you. I wouldn't have wanted anyone else to be with my son when he was in pain."
Ted nodded. "Well, it's a family duty, you know. It's in the bylaws somewhere. Must always rescue Potters from themselves."
Harry burst out laughing. "See? There's the Tonks in you."
"Well, that being the case and all..." Teddy looked uncertain. "Listen, James and I talked about maybe me taking him away for a bit, just to get him out of the house. Ginny's..."
"Smothering him?"
"Not exactly, but it's not easy being a big Quidditch star and having your mum trying to do your laundry and stuff. The Healers say he needs a few months, right?"
"Right..."
"So, a few weeks with me, he'll be feeling better, up on his feet again, and he'll have had some quiet. I'm gone all day, he can do what he wants, and I'm not a bad cook."
Harry nodded. "He might like that, I think he would. Let me think about it, okay?"
"Sure." Ted hesitated. "Harry, you don't think I'm...my dad wasn't cold, was he? Am I cold?"
Harry smiled. "Theodore Remus Lupin, your father was many things, but cold was not one of them. And if you were you wouldn't be asking to take an invalid off our hands right now and look after him yourself. You're who you are. No changing that."
"Right," Ted said. "No changing that."
***
The boy -- no, he was a man now -- was lying on the floor of Teddy's flat, arms splayed, eyes closed. For a terrible moment, Teddy thought he'd slipped and fallen, and the grocery bag in one hand slid to the carpet.
"James?" he asked uncertainly, vaulting his sofa easily and landing next to him. "James, are you okay?"
"This feels amazing," James said, stretching his shoulders. "Coach told me to lie down to get the spine all stretched out, but mum wouldn't let me out of bed. I've been here for hours. Try it!"
Teddy laughed with relief and flopped down next to him, covering his eyes with his hands.
"Thought you'd fallen," he said. James gave another happy wriggle.
"Well, it took me a while to get out of bed and then I sort of had a nap on the sofa after I made tea," he admitted.
"You're not supposed to be walking around yet."
"Come on, Ted, I play Quidditch for a living, I'm used to a little pain," James replied. "Doesn't it feel nice?"
Teddy had to admit that several of his vertebrae had just popped; he'd been tense all day, leaving James alone while he went into the office. There'd been two call-outs for potions violations and he'd barely had the wits by day's end to stop and get some food for dinner. If James hadn't been there he would probably have just ordered Chinese and then gone to bed.
"You want some dinner?" he asked. "Harry said lots of protein, so I got chicken."
"God, I'm sick of chicken. Can we order Chinese?"
Teddy laughed. "If you want. Now you've trapped me down here though, I don't want to move."
"I'm not hungry yet. How'd your day go?"
"Well enough. Hey, I brought the Prophet with me," Teddy said. "Accio newspaper!"
The newspaper flung itself out of the bag and zipped into his hands; he unfolded it, showing James that for the first time in a week his photo wasn't on the front page.
"Let's see...oh, that poor Potter boy's still at home recovering," he said, mimicking a flighty, querulous voice even as his hair turned white and wrinkles sprung up all over. James turned to look at him and laughed. "James Potter remains in seclusion after a near-fatal fall during the Quidditch Cup. I'm sure I don't know what these young whippersnappers get up to..."
James clutched his stomach, writhing with laughter. Teddy lengthened his hair and softened his face into femininity.
"Well I don't know about you but I am so terribly tired of hearing about Quidditch. I hope that poor boy comes to his senses and does something useful for a living like regulating cauldron-bottom thicknesses. Read us the fashion page, dear." He sank back into his own features, hair turning scarlet. James' laughter subsided. "So, do you want the fashion page? The sports page is all secondhand about you, and the Cannons are getting trounced again."
"You know, everyone says you're so serious but I guess they just don't know you," James said. "Pass us the funnies."
Teddy lifted a page out of the middle of the paper deftly, contenting himself with the editorials.
"This is fun," James said. "Thanks for having me over to stay."
"My pleasure."
"It's not trouble, is it? I mean if you wanted to bring someone home I could always disappear for a night."
Teddy shook his head. "Never have time for dating, you know how it is. Once I get my promotion to field supervisor, maybe."
"No special boy for Teddy?" James asked, as Ted rolled over to flatting the newspaper on the floor and prop himself on his elbows. "You should play Quidditch. Whole roomfuls of gorgeous fit men, showering naked."
"Who would laugh me off the field if they saw me fly," Teddy snorted. "Now, if you want to bring someone home, you let me know and I'll discreetly stay in the kitchen or something."
"Nah. I'm an invalid, remember? It'll be days before I go out again," James said ruefully. "Weeks, I reckon, before I'm up for pulling."
"Can I help with the boredom at all?" Teddy asked, and James glanced at him curiously.
"No, I can keep busy, there are playbooks to work on and you've got plenty to read, and there's the Muggle Telly if I get really bored," he said, but there was an amused tone in his voice.
As James turned back to the newspaper, Teddy studied his face to see if it was true; he'd become a good gauge of liars in the past few years, and he saw that James was telling the truth about boredom...but possibly leaving something out. Well, he'd tell him in good time.
James was handsome, he supposed, surprised that he'd never noticed before. He had Harry's dark hair, curlier than his father's, and his mother's slim face and pointed nose. Just a handful of freckles spattered his cheeks, the rest of his face tanned by hours outside on the Pitch. He did have Harry's hands too, broad palms and dextrous fingers. He looked older than his twenty years, but professional Quidditch had grown him up quickly, and he seemed to handle it all with a remarkable calm.
In profile his face was relaxed and cheerful, almost arrogant; Teddy supposed you had to be a little arrogant to dive straight for the ground at high speeds and think you'd survive.
His stomach lurched slightly, and the realisation hit him like a half-dozen bludgers even as he fought the urge to reach out and smooth James' hair back again.
He was in love with James Potter.
Oh. Shit.
"What?" James asked, turning to look at him. "Take a picture, Teddy, it'll last longer."
"Just making sure you're okay," Teddy said, frantically hiding the blush creeping up his cheeks, grateful his hair was already fire-engine red and couldn't turn any redder. He busied himself smoothing out the editorials page, but the words wouldn't assemble themselves properly before his eyes.
"Oog," James said. "I'm cramping."
"Probably time to get off the floor," Teddy said. He stood and automatically extended a hand to help James up; it took a bit of pulling and James tumbled into him, righting himself with both hands on Teddy's shoulders. Oh, balls.
James pivoted before Teddy could say anything, stretching out his hands and falling onto the sofa with utter faith. He grinned at Teddy, summoned the paper without a word, and folded the comics page to keep reading.
"I'll go order some food," Teddy mumbled, his mind completely disarrayed. He made for the kitchen where the Muggle telephone resided and leaned on the sink.
He couldn't be in love with James, that was ludicrous. He'd known him since he was a baby, learned from Harry how to change a nappy with James as hands-on instruction. He still had drawings the six-year-old had sent him, carefully packed in his school trunk. He'd looked after him for two years at school and been the one James came to for convincing that he should still do his seventh year and finish his NEWTs when Puddlemere wanted to sign him straight out of sixth year. This was just protectiveness because James was vulnerable, he just loved him like he loved Harry and Aunt Ginny -- James was like his cousin. He and Albus and Lily were practically the siblings he'd never had.
He was just feeling protective. He'd help James get back on his feet, show him a good time in London, and then pack him back to his parents' house.
Teddy reached resolutely for the telephone and then had to make three tries before he got the number right.
Two days later he came home to find the flat in utter disarray, newspaper clippings and sheets of parchment everywhere. James had apparently been catching up not only with his own press but with every Quidditch team in the country. Most of the parchment scraps had playbook diagrams scrawled on them, and there were several abandoned teacups littering the living room.
Instead of freaking out that his flat was a mess, which was what had made his last boyfriend give up on him in despair, Teddy grinned to himself and began collecting up the teacups.
He was definitely in trouble.
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