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Die, Teddy Lupin by Valiant
Chapter 1 : Die, Teddy Lupin
Rating: MatureChapter Reviews: 35

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Everything is JKR's. 




“Get up, Teddy!" I hissed angrily. I was going to lose it, there was no other option. The gentle raps against my door were steadily transforming into loud, incessant pounding, and unfortunately, Teddy would not move his pretty arse. I was going to be a goner. 

Kill me now, please. 

“Teddy, I swear to Merlin, if you don’t let go of me in two seconds, I will blast you through my bloody window!” I stared up at his sleeping, naked form, sprawled carelessly beneath my starched white bed sheets, on top of me; suffocating me. However, I could not deny that I was turned on. Big time. It was a tad bit difficult to ignore the electric jolts jabbing against my insides, but the mere thought of my father entering and seeing me in so compromising a predicament gave me chills to overcome simple jolts any day. And still, Teddy would not get up. He was a deep sleeper, I’d always known that . . . but if he didn’t get out of here very, dangerously soon, he’d find himself sleeping in so deep a sleep, he wouldn’t wake up again. Courtesy done by me, of course. 

“Ted Remus Lupin,” I began quietly, snatching my wand and pressing its tip threateningly to his throat, “if you value my sanity, you’d do well to take a hike out of my bed, you wanker!” My breathing was slightly harsh as I trailed the nails of my free hand down over Teddy’s skin, beneath the blankets, attempting to ignore the increasingly loud knocking. I saw his eyes flicker slightly—and then widen in pain as he felt my fingers snatch at the soft hairs along his left thigh, and pull

“What the hell, Victoire!” His voice was low and pained, and his eyes were beginning to water as my fingers tightened around him still. “Get off, what are you doing?! Victoire!” 

“Serves you right,” I muttered heatedly, finally releasing him. His tense body relaxed, and a slow, suggestive grin spread slowly across his face. I swatted him away. “Do you not hear that? Yes, Teddy. That is my father. So if you’ll be so kind as to remove your face from my cleavage and maybe lift your nude body off my nude body, I would be more than pleased.” 

Teddy, with almost excruciating slowness, raised himself away from me, leaving only a cold draft of air to inhabit the area along the surface of my midriff. In a moment of pure forgetfulness, I almost called him back. But then— 

“You complete sod, Teddy Lupin!” I whispered fiercely. “What am I supposed to say to him when I open the door, now?” 

Teddy, bless his beautiful face, looked frightened. To say the least, he, in all his au naturel glory, was a damn sight worth my dad’s obsessive thumping. “Er . . . d’you, I dunno, want me to hide, or something?” he asked, his gaze following me lingeringly as I climbed from the mattress and bent to retrieve my robe from the floor. 

I blinked, disbelieved, as I clothed myself unconsciously. “And exactly where do you plan to hide, sweetie?” I made sure to use a degrading, simple tone of voice; my disdain, especially now, was not to pass unnoticed. 

“Under the bed?” Teddy supplied blankly. 

I was already walking to the door, but spared him a short glance upon hearing his slightly idiotic offer. However, I had no time. “Yes, yes—just make yourself invisible while I see to Dad.” My hand on the doorknob, I paused only long enough to make sure Teddy was fully beneath my bed and had taken all his clothing with him. Then, summoning my best poker face, I opened the door, and froze when I saw Dad’s hand stop mid-knock. 

I shook my head, hoping to appear bleary and disoriented. “ ‘Morning, Dad,” I greeted, faking a yawn and stifling it with the back of my hand. 

Dad’s eyes narrowed, almost imperceptibly so. “Good morning, Victoire,” he replied. I could see his eyes skimming over every crevice in my room, looking for something suspicious. He didn’t find anything, I’m proud to say. “Why did it take you so long to open the door?—Why do you have the door locked in the first place?” 

Oh, well. That’s easy enough to answer. Teddy sneaked over last night, and we barely made it to my room, and so Teddy had to slam me against the door in his impatience (and mine), and he took me right there, and then, after about three more times against the door, we remembered that we’d forgotten to place a silencing charm, so we locked the door just in case you’d heard us going at it and decided to come kill us. Oh, definitely. I can imagine Dad’s easy, laid-back reply when he heard that joy-inducing

“I’m not sure,” I answered instead. “I woke up in the middle of the night from a nightmare, and . . . I don’t know, Dad. It felt safer with the door locked. I don’t even know why I was so scared.” Yeah, Dad. Wouldn’t you also like to know how you were my nightmare, and the door was supposed to keep me safe from you? 

Dad avoided my eyes. “I’d like to talk to you, Victoire. Come in, please.”

Oh, really? In my head, I was incredulous. He spoke as if it were his home we were entering—not my own bedroom. All the same, he can’t have found us out, he’ll murder me. Maman wouldn’t mind so much. . . but Dad . . . he’d more like eat me himself. Oh, joy. I bet it could happen too. I can’t believe it—after seventeen years of life, a meal for Bill Weasley was all that would come out of me. Lovely. 

“Why? What have I done wrong?” I stepped back apprehensively and allowed Dad entry. He glanced around at my pale walls, as if expecting them to inform him of all my wrongdoings. Then, to my absolute horror, he actually sat on my bed . . . the one that Teddy was hiding beneath. . . the one that Teddy was hiding beneath naked. My heart sped up unavoidably, and hesitantly, I went and joined Dad, crossing my ankles tightly, and hoping he wouldn’t notice my blossoming panic. 

“Victoire,” Dad began slowly, folding his hands together in his lap, “Fleur and I want what’s best for you, alright?” 

Uh oh. That can never mean anything good. 

“And Fleur is under the impression that you can get the best in France, among your grandparents and cousins. You’d grow up knowing your roots and traditions.” 

My eyes widened.”No way—no way in hell am I leaving to France, Dad. I don’t care, I’m not going. And I’m grown up already,” I finished defiantly. My life—the boy beneath by bed, actually, but what’s the difference when it really came down to it?—was here. France held nothing for me except stupid escargot and delicate hors d’oeuvres. And my Delacour grandparents, both of whom I really love, but that’s utterly beside the point. They can come visit me if they want. My cousins can all have fun doing themselves; personally, I don’t need anymore raucousness. The Potter-Weasley clan more than suffice in that matter, unfortunately. Living in France! The idea of me accepting to do so was laughable! 

Dad rubbed his eyes wearily. “Victoire, Love, you haven’t exactly thought this through. France would be good for you, I promise—“ 

“You better not be trying to get rid of me, Daddy,” I said to him threateningly. My use of “Daddy” is parallel to a parent’s use of their child’s full name when said child is in trouble. In this case, the roles were switched around. 

Dad, though he chuckled a bit at first, was genuinely surprised. “Get rid of you?” he laughed lightly again, leaning over and tweaking my hair. “That is exactly what I’m trying not to do. You see, Vic, I’ve gotten a job offer . . . in France. And Fleur really wants me to take it.” 

My eyebrows flitted coolly, resting somewhere mid-forehead. “So? What’s the problem then? Go ahead, take it.” Relaxing slightly, I uncrossed my ankles and rested them firmly against the floor. If this was going to be a mind-blowing argument type of discussion, then so be it. 

“See? Now you’re the one trying to get rid of us. But in any case, we were hoping you’d come with us, of course—"

And then I felt it. Right there, at the back of my ankle, a warm swipe of tongue. Teddy Lupin was having fun. Arousal curdled in the pit of my stomach, rising uncontrollably. My abdominal muscles tensed, and I held my jaw clenched tight. I was going to kill him. Bloody git. 

Dad must have noticed my immediate change of expression. His eyebrows rose, and his nostrils flared, as if on the lookout for some questionable scent.  

“Erm . . . go on, Dad,” I offered, my voice now little more than a squeak. 

Dad, apparently deciding to ignore my little weirdo spasm, fiddled with his thumbs while leaning forward to look at me. I was aware of his sudden seriousness. "I really want to do this for your mother, Victoire," he stated. "But she wouldn’t enjoy her time if you were here." Dad sighed wearily then, obviously wary of my reaction. "We can’t force you to come. You are of age. But please try to keep your mother’s happiness in mind when you're thinking about this.” 

I snorted, my mind momentarily shifting from Teddy’s ministrations. “Don’t try to guilt-trip me into anything, Dad, you know it won't work. There’s nothing for me there, I’m not going. I love you, I really do, but honestly? It doesn't matter whether you go or stay—I’ll be here.” 

Again, Dad’s eyes narrowed. “Any men I don’t know about, Victoire?” 

“No,” I answered calmly, as if Teddy hadn’t just—grabbed my ankle! “For the sweet love of Merlin, I—" 

“What’s wrong?” asked Dad. 

“Nothing,” I muttered angrily, ferociously moving my hair away from my eyes. “Absolutely nothing.” 

Dad did not buy it. “Victoire. I am your father. Do not lie to me, because I know the way your mind works, back to front. And do not attempt to hide from me, because you see that very scared look in your eye? I noticed it as soon as you opened the door. What’s up?” 

I bit my lip dubiously. How much should I tell him? Should I even say anything in the first place? But I can’t pretend anymore . . . it would be pointless. However, my deep thinking was completely unnecessary. Just at that moment, Dad spotted something that made my blood go so cold, I was sure it froze: Teddy’s shoes. 

His eyes widened and his throat convulsed horribly. I could almost see the thought registering inside his mind. “Victoire,” he began. His voice was low, and for the first time, I could see the trace of wolf in my father’s marred features. “Who the hell is here?” 

Again, I should have saved myself the trouble of thinking. Teddy, may he die a tragic, terrible death, crawled out from beneath the bed—still undressed, the idiot! He stood, as unconscious of his nudity as anything, calm and collected. 

“Hey, Mr Weasley,” he quipped lightly, not the lightest hint of dread in his voice. Dad’s eyes were worse than that toad Uncle Ron always complains about, Umbridge or something. He glanced back and forth from me to Teddy, over and over again, as if hoping someone would jump out and claim that this was all a crude, vulgar joke. His eyes wouldn’t blink. His Adam’s Apple was bobbing horribly along his throat. 


Forcefully, I pushed myself off the bed and grabbed Teddy by his earlobe, squeezing hard, my wand tip pressed precariously to his throat.

“Teddy Lupin," I declared angrily. "Come tomorrow, you will be killed. And I, Love, will be your murderer.”








Teddy, Teddy... don't you just love him?

(In any case, I'd love to hear about it. Maybe in a coughreviewcough.


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