Chapter 4 : You're Insane. And Disgusting.
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chapter image of the super fine Teddy Lupin by laylacitababy @TDA!
“Oh, Ronald calm down.” If I had a sickle for every time I have heard my mother say those words to my father? Well, let’s face it, I’d be a gazillionaire. No, really I’d be so filthy rich it wouldn’t even be funny.
We’re talking private jets and lackeys that I don’t know the name of because their fired so frequently for not making me my extra hot skinny vanilla latte just the way I like it. I guess you could say my dad has a temper. But that’s only if you like vastly understating things.
“Hermione, I will not calm down.” Ouch, things are going to get ugly. Dad never calls Mum ‘Hermione’. Unless, of course, he’s in what I like to call an ‘über strop’, and apparently he is.
“Don’t you take that tone with me, Ronald Billius,” Mum’s doing the whole towering while looking menacing bit brilliantly. Dad looks like he just shrunk about six inches. From where I’m standing this is only helping her.
“Maybe we should continue this conversation, um, elsewhere?” Teddy steps in and suggests quickly, looking nervously around the busy street. I can tell he’s looking a little panicky and for good reason. Dad’s gone into full over- protective-castrate-anything-male-within-a-five-mile-radius mode. I feel really bad for poor Teddy, truly I do.
“I haven’t gotten to you yet, Theodore,” my father rounds on darling Teddy menacingly. I can see where this is going and let me tell you it isn’t good.
“His name is Teddy, Ronald,” Mum sighs in exasperation before turning and pulling on Dad’s coat sleeve, “Now let’s all go sit down somewhere quiet for a butterbeer. On me, okay?” She pulls a spluttering Dad behind her and it looks like we’ve got no choice but to follow. I swallow and shoot a worried glance at Teddy. Family sit downs aren’t really a good thing in the Weasley family.
“Albus,” I hiss, “Can’t you…I don’t know, do something?” He shrugs as we begin to walk.
“Normally, seeing as this is a ‘Weasley Family Sit Down’, I’d cut out and go visit Uncle George. However, this looks like it’s going to be interesting. I forecast false accusations, extensive grounding, and some pants burning. Good luck with that,” He gives me that crooked smile of his, adding a little skip to his step.
“Gee, thanks for that. Divination really must be your strong suit.” I can’t help but let the negativity pull me down. I mean, Dad’s only really been mad at me like…I don’t know, six times.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” Teddy whispers to my left. He’s never had my Dad been angry at him. Ah, well first time’s always the scariest.
“Don’t worry. I’m nearly certain he won’t hex you,” I tell him tenderly, giving his hand a squeeze. Dad’s head whips around and he fixes a steely blue eyed glare on Teddy, who quickly jerks his hand away.
“Ronald,” Mum hisses, jerking him back as she pushes through the front doors of the Hog’s Head.
“We’re going here,” I voice loudly. The place was a dump back in the day when Dad, Mum, and Uncle Harry held secret defense meetings here. Now I’d say it’s just as bad if not worse. All dusty and empty and whatnot. The bartender fixes me with a steely glare. He’s probably old enough to be Professor McGonagall’s secret lover. I poke Al in the ribs and whisper my thoughts to him while he pretends to gag.
“Honestly, Rosie that imagination of yours is going to lead to trouble,” Teddy whispers back. He’s got wicked hearing, that boy. It might be the part wolf thing. Try catching him during the full moon. Poor bloke gets horny as hell. Er…so I’ve heard. We’re just not going to talk about this anymore
“Blah blah Teddy. You’re about to get your arse handed to you, so I’d stop eavesdropping if I were you,” I reply waspishly and Mum directs the awkward family reunion to a dusty table. The bartender elects to ignore us. There go all hopes for a warm frothy drink. Gee, thanks Mum and Dad.
“Ronald, do you feel as if you have something to say?” Mum prods gently, ever the facilitator. Dad harrumphs with indignation as he crosses his arms and tries to light Teddy on fire with his glare.
“Daddy?” I try, putting on the soft I’ll-always-be-your-little-girl voice to save some of the skin on our bodies. Albus is watching from his corner seat with morbid fascination.
“I..I..there are no words, Rose! He’s nearly 8 years older than you! Not to mention Victoire. I thought we raised you better than that! And…and the trousers,” his voice goes up an octave, cracking like it did back when he was a third year. He clears his throat.
“I thought they were a rather nice change of pace,” Mum adds nonchalantly, as she inspects her fingernails.
“Mum,” I hiss, “I don’t think that’s helping the situation –“
“’Mione have you seen them? They look like they’ve been painted on!”
“Yes, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing,” Teddy adds nervously. I stare at him in disbelief as Al chokes on his own laughter.
“Have I ever told you that you have verbal diarrhea?” I demand, whacking his arm. Dad looks just about ready to blow his top or something.
“Oh, don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, Theodore! I’ll be checking the moon cycle as soon as the wife and I apparate home. And if there is any chance of any funny business going on, so help me Merlin I will hex you so fast your eyeballs will spin out of their sockets. And don’t think I won’t be in contact with Bill and Fleur. Oh, just you wait young man. Just you wait.”
Dad finishes his monologue and I think Ted might have just wet his pants. Sorry old chap, that’s what you get when you befriend the daughter of the most ill tempered red head around. Bad move mate, bad move. I join Al in a momentary chuckle.
“And you, Rose Weasley. I hope you understand the gravity of your decisions and the consequences they will have. If you continue this relationship –“
“Ronald,” Mum interrupts, “you do know Rose and Teddy are not in a relationship, correct? And you do know they are friends, correct? I’ll assume that you are also aware of the fact that Teddy has recently become engaged to Victoire Weasley, your niece?” All conversation halts and Dad loses his wind completely.
“You are?” he questions meekly.
“You arsehole!” I yell at him in delight, “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me! Me! In all the letters I wrote not a single mention? Why you sly old dog, you. You dirty scoundrel.” What can I say, the bad telly dramas rub off on me easily too. Teddy takes the time to look slightly abashed and grins my favorite Teddy Lupin grin at me. The big flashy one where his teeth look particularly canine. I’d call it wolfish if it wasn’t such a horrid pun.
Suddenly a bartender appears from nowhere and champagne is flowing. I swear to God, this happened in like fifty seconds. It's not even a joke. No one is laughing here. Except for Albus.
One moment Dad’s giving us the rundown on just exactly what he’s going to do to us, the next he’s clapping Teddy on the back and sloshing champagne on himself. Mum looks composed as ever, though she is grinning slightly. I suspect she’s gotten more amusement out of this than even Albus.
My family is the most ridiculous circus I’ve ever come across. And this is just Mum, Dad and Albus. Don’t even bring up my brother (gak not if I can help it), various cousins and their parentage. I think we should probably take our leave now. Mum and Dad our starting to get mushy and reminiscing about their early days as a couple. Yeah, so I just threw up a little.
“I think I’m going to cut out early. Find James,” Al offers quickly as he jumps up and bolts out the door.
“Make sure to Owl your Mum, Albus!” My mum calls after him. He waves his hand to show that he’s heard her but is out of the bar so fast the door nearly hits him on the way out.
“Oh, no it’s not like we wanted to leave or anything,” I mutter and Teddy laughs at me.
“Come on Rose. I think we need to have a talk anyways.” I gulp. See, I had a feeling this was coming.
“You two go on and have fun now,” Mum calls out to us as we follow in Al’s wake. Dad waves merrily as well. Funny, ten minutes ago we were up shit creek, and now the ‘rents are drowning in champy. It’s an odd world. Odder if you’re a Weasley.
“I think here is good,” Teddy stops uneasily next to an alleyway and tries to look serious.
“God, you suck at this, Ted.” I smile at him, but he doesn’t smile back. More like a grimace that tried to be a smile, but died a hideous death.
“Look, I probably should have told you sooner about Victoire. But it sort of just happened…” I raise an auburn eyebrow at him.
“I’m not like cheesed off or anything, Ted. Seriously, it’s not a problem. I know you’re busy. Besides you probably haven’t gotten around to telling that many people anyways.” He shakes his head.
“No, I haven’t. Not really, I mean. Her parents know, and so do Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny but that’s about it besides today.”
“Well there’s no reason to fret then. You’re not keeping it a secret or anything.” I pat his arm in reassurance even though he’s starting to freak me out a bit. He crosses his arm and stares back at me.
“Speaking of secrets…” He tapers off in that really obvious way when someone’s trying to remind you of something they’d rather not say out loud.
“What?” I challenge, “You’re going to bring that up now? I’ve completely forgotten about it, Ted. And I thought that was the agreement?” He looks really uncomfortable. Obviously he hasn’t taken our little deal to heart.
“Rosie, what happened this summer,” I hold up a hand and cut him off.
“Relax, Teddy. I. Don’t. Care. I’m going to go find Albus and try and salvage what is left of this Hogsmeade excursion, alright then?”
“But Rosie –“
“’But Rosie’ nothing. It was one little kiss –“ He gets that crazy look in his eyes before clamping his hand over my mouth and pushing me into the alley way. Oh come on, Teddy. It was one measly little kiss over the summer holidays. And no one knows. I mean no one. Way to throw a wrench into the plot, I know.
“Whoa there, Teddy. No need for a repeat occurrence,” I try and joke but he frowns at me.
“That’s not funny,” he growls and I hold my hands up, palms out.
“Hey, you’re the one that brought it up, not me. I’m all for going on and living a blissful little existence. Besides, you’re not the only one with a fiancée. I’m marrying Scorpius, remember?”
“Rosie,” he chuckles, “You’re the most insane girl. I’ve got to say.
“Well insanity comes with the territory. Hey if our dirty little secret ever comes out you can say I forced you. I’m just insane enough to do it.” He laughs before sighing and leaning against the alley wall.
“Wasn’t your fault,” he mutters as he stares up at the sky.
“Yeah, well it wasn’t yours either. Moon phases, remember? Just because you shoved me up against a tree because I was the closest female you could smell –“ Teddy grimaces and hold up a hand to stop me.
“Okay, that’s enough Rosie. I remember just fine. Much as I hate to,” he adds under his breath.
“Does it creep you out that we’re going to be cousins now?”
“Rosie Red, you are insane. And disgusting.”
“Just because I can find the dark twisted humor in everything,” I laugh. “Go on, get out of here, Ted. You should go see Victoire in Paris.”
Teddy Lupin smiles at me before tipping an imaginary hat and apparating out of the small space. He’s an odd one, to be sure. He’s got some sort of wolfy gene, is a Metamorphmagus, and sort of took my first snog under the full moon pressed up against a birch tree in my backyard after Uncle Harry’s birthday party. Awkward much? For the most part we don’t talk about it. But there will be those odd moments when we see each other and just look at one another and know.
But hey, you have to laugh it off, right? I walk out of the alleyway and am about to turn down the snowy street.
“I heard that, you know.” The voice sends shivers down my spine as it surrounds me. I don’t really want to turn around, but I doubt I have the luxury to make a run for it now. At least, not in these trousers.
“What exactly did you hear?” I think I’m being quite clever, pretending like I don’t have the foggiest idea as to what Scorpius Malfoy is talking about.
“Oh, turn around already, Weasley. And don’t think I didn’t just hear you and Lupin.”
“Do I hear a please?” I push back, my mood fouling by the second. It’s a little daring of me though, you know? Talking back to the man of my dreams, no my life! Seriously. I’m usually in a pile of goop around him. I feel strong! I feel liberated!
“Oh look, I think Dominique is coming back from the quill shop. Maybe I’ll tell her what I just heard.” I turn around now and look him up and down. Really, not bad at all. But I shake my head. That feeling of liberation is gone. Hello gooey sticky mess on the floor.
“What exactly did you hear, Scorpius.” I see him react to his name and it gives me a feeling of satisfaction. Team Rosie, one. Team Scorpy, zip.
“That you snogged the boyfriend of my girlfriend’s sister. Against a birch tree.”
“Of all the things you expect to hear on the snowy streets of Hogsmeade,” I deadpan.
“Why’d you do it, Weasley? Sound like betrayal to me. I thought you Gryffindors were loyal.” He’s smirking at me, not really interested in the fact that Dom’s sister’s finacee had a little shack up moment with her younger cousin. More like he’s almost, curious. Or impressed or something. Like he got a really good chocolate frog card.
“You don’t know the half of it,” I snip at him, taking time to brush past him. Mmm, he’s radiating warmth. Not really something you’d expect from a Slytherin, but I guess he is a human after all.
“So enlighten me then, Weasley. Or should I call Dominique now? She did want us to spend some more time together. We can meet her at the Three Broomsticks.” I cock an eyebrow at him. He’s being awfully charitable today, and I’m too scared to buy it.
“I guess that could be manageable,” I concede. Inside I’m about ready to puke up my guts they’re churning so badly. I’m freaked out that someone, Scorpius of all people, heard me and Teddy dishing on our dirt. I’m a little aggravated that he’s blackmailing me into butterbeer with him for the gory details. And I’m more than excited than words can express that we’re walking side by side down the same street.
We pass the quill store where I’m sure Dom is agonizing over inks and parchments, something I know Scorpius doesn’t have the patience for. I see Albus sitting with James and Fred and nod my head at him. He nearly spits out the licorice wand he was chewing on. I do love taking Al down a peg every now and then. Even if he does choke on his sweets. Was that too harsh? Maybe a little.
“Here we are,” Scorpius says as he pulls open the large wooden doors. The heat from the pub hits us in the chest as we walk in. It smells of spices and fire and cloves, and I’m ready to thaw out my poor little butt. When trousers are painted on they are very rarely warm.
Scorpius and I sit at a table meant for three. I stare at the empty space wishing Dom was here, but also praying that she falls into a black hole in the quill shop. I still can’t quite decide.
“So, what do you want to know?” I ask begrudgingly. Scorpius gives one of those smarmy-git smirks, the grins that speak of plotting and treachery and, well let’s face it, sexiness.
“Everything, from the beginning, Weasley. Don’t leave out the details.”
“Are you a perv or something? That’s a little creepy.” He doesn’t say anything, only stares back, turning me to liquid with his smoldering grey eyes.
“U-um,” I stutter, “Full moon. Part Wolf,” I manage to get out as he looks into my soul (yes I swear that’s what he’s doing), “Gets territorial. Overactive lust. Rose. Birch Tree. Snog. Uncle Harry’s birthday. Eight years difference.”
“Thanks, Weasley. That was really in depth” I’ll admit his sarcasm is good, but he’s got a long way to go before he can compete with the best.
“Oh, you shouldn’t care anyways.” I scowl at the beautiful specimen in front of me. Despite lacking the full detail he wanted, he managed to work all the answers out of me in less than twenty words. Oh, he’s good, I’ll give him that. Team Rosie, 1. Team Scorpy, a billion. I think I might be losing this round.
“Oh, I care, Weasley.” My head is swimming with his words. What a confusing ass bloke! Jesus, just a day or two ago he was spouting off how he didn’t care about Weasley’s. Someone needs to remind him of previous bold statements.
“B-but why?” I demand, as I clutch a butterbeer he had so gracefully ordered from a waiter. Again, with the evil and somewhat diabolical smirk.
“I told you already. I like the trousers.” The butterbeer at the tables next to us boils out from the tops. I’m as red as a tomato, a strawberry, blood, my own freaking hair.
“E-excuse m-me?” I stammer, suddenly aware that the room is a lot warmer than it was a moment ago.
“The trousers,” he repeats, grinning away like a madman, “I like them.”
Well, well that's it for now. Updated as quickly as I could. Sorry it's not very long.
Review if you've got the time, that would be lovely.
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