Worrywarts

Teddy Lupin figured it was easier to move in while everyone was moving out. He knew the simplest thing would be to wait for the summer holiday, pick a day, and come in. But he wasn’t just taking a job. He was desperately attempting to regain a sense of normality that he had lost and had eluded him ever since… well, the problem is he didn’t know when (or where) it had gone. But normality meant allowing himself to be around people again. He had withdrawn for far too long. It was time to take the plunge again.

Besides, he had the day off. So why not?

He figured, like most of the professors nowadays, that he would spend some time back at home, but he did want to do this right, so he was trying to make his staff quarters at least somewhat comfortable. He didn’t have to bring any furniture, which was nice, but he had brought a chair he was particularly fond of as well as a few boxes of books. Currently, he was conducting a well-orchestrated dance of his clothing – professor clothes to the wardrobe, all else to the dresser. He would have to move Sylvia when he fully moved in and Jag… he wasn’t sure what to do with Lily’s dog. Hopefully, she would take him.

Lily. He knew that his problems were deeper than his feelings of failure towards his sister-of-sorts, but it was hard not to divide the times of his life between Before and After he lost Lily. Because that’s what it felt like. It felt like loss. And thoughts of her felt an awful lot like grief.

He paused and glanced around, trying to figure out what was next as the last pair of jeans folded themselves and tucked into the dresser. His eyes scanned the small room. Bed, done. Wardrobe and dresser, full. Small table with two chairs place, comfy chair positioned. Bookshelves, yet to be filled.

It was awfully minimal. But it was his.

He went to go open the window when he heard a knock. He paused and continued opening the window before turning to approach the door.

He opened it and found mild surprise taking his face, before it left. Obviously. Maddie worked here. He knew that. Why had he not considered the inevitability that they would interact as coworkers.

“Maddie,” he said, considering how much he should say, all things considered. Instead, he began with a class. “Hi.”

*

Teddy honest looked at Maddie and felt… bad. Not that she was making him feel that way, no, nor was he unhappy to see her. Maddie was one of the few people who seemed to understand his tightly wound nature, his struggle to let things go because he could see all too well how a bad situation could snowball into a worse one. Back when Harry and Ginny were alive, he didn’t have to worry. He was laidback, healthy, happy… popular. And then he lost Harry, and he was lost. But to lose Ginny was to take away his youth. He desperately grasped at the straws of the only family he had ever known, and they had all finally slipped through his fingers.

He suspected, deep down, that he had suffered through Maddie’s greatest fear. Not to say that Maddie had not suffered some horrors of her own. To go through a divorce after three children… the sheer idea of any form of abandonment from his future spouse was enough to freeze Teddy into attempting to acquire one at all. And then for him to die… once again, losing a spouse was a different beast entirely. No, Maddie had gone through her share of horrors, but he imagined that losing his siblings to the cruel, cruel world was a deep-rooted fear deep within Maddie’s heart too.

She smiled and brought him back to the now. They weren’t far apart in age but she had lived a small lifetime in milestones he could hope to aspire to, and for that she had become maternal. Her maternal sentiments were never heavy-handed towards him, more empathetic than anything, but always strangely welcome. James and Albus and Lily seemed to resent anyone who assumed they needed any extra sympathy. Teddy had grown up with it from the get-go and people had eventually decided he had his fill. But Maddie persisted. Because that was just the sort of person she was.

“Maddie,” he said, trying to put more substance into his breathless voice but coming off more confused than anything. He stuttered out a “H-hi” in the hopes of sounding more pleased than confused, though there was equal measure of both.

How was he. How was he. How…

“How did you know I was here?” he asked. Immediately, he recognized how ungrateful this question sounded and his face morphed into an apologetic one. “No, not that I’m not… no thrilled to see you, or- I just didn’t want you to think I was intentionally not telling you I worked here, or anything. I figured you would have taken the kids home early, skipped the train craze. Sorry. I’m, um, I’m good. I’m working here.” Wow. Lame. He cleared his throat. “You? I mean... how are you?”

Teddy remembered a time in his life where he could take charge of a situation and the Potter kids would fall into line behind her. Where he had the confidence to make a decision, formulate a plan, and move forward. Even with Harry gone, he had the strength needed to be a pillar. Losing Ginny had lost him the boys. They were shaken into a sense of impendence that Teddy could not relieve them from.  Lily alone, at the tender age of eleven, had needed him. And her brother’s perceived indifference kept her close to him for nearly six years.

Losing her to the fearful world had done it. Having her withdraw and pull away from him, and then get hurt because no one was there to shield and protect her – it had ruined her, and there was no undoing that damage. It was permanent. It was there. It was reminder every day that the world could take everything from him in one instance.

He didn’t feel like a Lupin anymore. He didn’t feel worthy of the time he had with either Potter. He had ruined it, let it all go to waste. What did he have to show for it? Someone stronger would have benefited more, would have made the legacy continue. He couldn’t even keep a family together.

These were the thoughts fueling the slightly ashamed look on his face as he faced Maddie, someone he wished he could look whole for, someone who had also invested the time and he had not succeeded. This woman stood strong after all of her tribulations, and had three wonderful children that stood as grinning testaments to all she had done. It was hard to admit how foolish and weak he had been, when he could have followed her example.

She asked about teaching and he went to speak, almost choking on his words, his mouth dry from uncertainty. He turned and glanced into his room, as though the reason lie in one of the unpacked boxes. He gestured vaguely before dropping his hand, awkwardly knocking it on doorframe. “Yeah. I don’t know. Needed a career change and it seemed to be… seemed to be the right fit.”

She said she was good and he found a smile lifting his lips without the permission of his mind, surprisingly him by the action. All he knew was that… at least there was that. At least Maddie was good.

The question came again and he blinked, pursing his lips and glancing downwards. He lifted his gaze, an apologetic grimace evolving his expression. She had him caught, and he was willing to admit it. “Wanna come in?” he asked.

He led them to the table, rummaging around for two glasses, pouring them both water. If he was better settled, he would have brought out tea or something better, but alas. He took a gulp of the water and then settled his hands, rubbing them together, staring at them. What had these hands forged that would last?

He sighed. “I really needed a change. I think I’ve been stuck for awhile. Ever since… Have I told you anything about my sist- my adopted sister?”

Inside, there was less reason for discretion, less reason to hide an expression, as all possibilities of being walked in on or overheard were rumored. The barriers of having a series conversation in public faded, leaving only the gentle reminder that honesty would only be lost if it was done purposefully... making the whole thing even harder. Teddy knew he had to be open and straightforward, but he had not voiced, in full, the struggles and trials of the past year and a half. Albus and James were so close to the situations that they couldn't see how horrible they had become. If Albus' housemate, or whatever, cared, she had a funny way of showing it. And how could he ever bother Hermione or Molly or any of the others, when they themselves were pillars of strength that he dared not shake.

No, when it came down to it, he had only had one job, and he had failed. And admitting it now to this woman who would have never let failure become an option in regards to her family... yeah, that was not a task easily done.

And she was not going to make any demands of him. Her gentle sentence and her kind expression put him fully in control of the conversation. It would be so easy to just breeze past the subject and say it had gotten sad and complicated and now he didn't know what to do, but that would not be completely honest and Maddie would know, but not hold it against him, and he would have to live knowing he denied help before it was even offered...

He should probably just start talking.

"When... When Ginny died, it sort of fell onto me to take care of Lily," he explained. "Not that I didn't want to - Lily and I were close from the start. But with her brothers growing up and doing their own things, I stepped into that role. And the past few years... I don't know what happened. I tried and tried but something happened to her and she dropped out and ran off, and we found her like... almost half dead, and we got her rehabilitated and off all those substances and she went back to Hogwarts and it was fine..." He sighed. "You probably heard via Kathryn about the end of the year party last year. Lily's a werewolf, something she managed to keep quiet, but she transformed in the castle by accident, scratched a kid. I haven't talked to her for more than five minutes since she graduated. She won't tell me where she lives or how she supports herself and keeps reiterating that I shouldn't worry but..." he finally met Maddie's eyes, certain she understood this sentiment best of all. "How am I not supposed to?"

He knew he had said a lot, and that it certainly could be enough to explain his distance. But wasn't he the sort to come for help if practical help or advice would be given? It was more than that. He let out a sigh, tracing his fingers around the edges of the glass. "I don't know. That snowballed, I guess. Work got hard. My friends got busy. My family grew apart. And I was just left stuck, unable to move. So I got a job where that wasn't an option. I had to move." He glanced up at her and gave a bit of a helpless shrug, the apology for unloading so much evident in his dropping gaze.

((I legitimately teared up because of how badly Teddy needed this))

There was a moment after an emotional release where it felt like nothing else remained. Barely a person beyond those automatic functions, the feeling of crumbling certainty. If he closed his eyes, he supposed he could have floated off into the world, the spirit of Teddy Lupin, last of Remus and Nymphadora, and that would somehow be the end. Cease. Cease sight. Cease breath. Cease pain.

He kept his eyes open, because Maddie was watching him, and as deflated as he felt, there was too much to live for, too much to see and do and feel. Too many wrongs to right, too many rights to experience for the first time. He had to stick around if only to know that everything he used to so firmly believe was true : that suffering always taught something valuable, that endurance paid off, and that everything always worked out the way it was supposed to. He still believed all of this, he had just stopped acting like he believed it.

That’s where the frustration came out tenfold. When it came down to it, Teddy had always been the rock, the foundation for those around him, and in that role he had thrived. So far removed from that role, he felt idiotic for not acting the way he knew would fix it all – to accept the things he could not change and persist in his good works anyway. But doubt had slipped in and cemented itself into the cracks of his personality, becoming one with him. Now he had to reached in and scrape it out the best he could and hope that he stayed all put together.

Everything Maddie said made complete sense. As it should – it was all true. He knew he had slipped beyond natural concern into destructive anxiety. He knew Lily well enough to know that distance was her greatest weapon. He knew that he alone could not keep the Potter family together and that his efforts needed to be rewarded for their hard fought battle.

Of course he had known it. But he needed someone to say it.

His elbows found the table and he removed his glasses, dropping them on the table. His hands sought his face, cupping it before beginning to rub small, deep circles into the tired tissue. His hands flopped onto the table and he met Maddie’s eyes, before resting his chin on his propped up fist. “Remind my again why I don’t just go straightaway to you?” The beginnings of a laugh touched his cheek but did not form in his throat. It faded and he cleared his throat. “Thank you.”

She was quick to assure him the trouble was small, and though his instinct was to reassure her otherwise, he knew they were similar enough to not have to perseverate on the subject. Some people were just born to be there for others. And as someone born from circumstances of sacrifice, it was in his blood. Maddie, he suspected, was one of those genuinely good people who had long ago decided that life was best lived trying to make the world a better place for good people. Either way, she knew just as well as he did how inescapable it was for either of them to offer comfort to people they had high regard for. It would be like apologizing for making her breathe.

He nodded against her further reassurances and let out a breath, trying to relieve all of that built up tension from such a reveal. He shook out his arms a bit and reached for his glass of water, indulging himself in an excuse to let that emotionally-charged moment slip from the present into the past. He had lost the ability to move on as of late, and even practice in letting these little moments go would prove helpful.

As he topped off his glass, he glanced at Maddie. "So, how are you then? Casper is going into his final year, and Charlie into his first, isn't he? Big year."

(sorry it's short! transitional post)

This was something Teddy couldn't wait for.

Unlike so many of the Potter-Weasleys, all who displayed an untraditional attitude for independence and self-exploration, it had always been a big part of Teddy to eagerly await the day he was a husband and father. Perhaps it was the orphan in him, the desire to construct the type of childhood he had always desired. There was such a warmth in him when he considered helping a child take its first steps, nervously stumbling after them as they rode their first broom. It was as though all of the natural worry and uncertainty he felt would finally find purpose and could bring out some good.

Some people were just born to be parents. Teddy couldn't help but think himself in that number. Just as Maddie certainly was.

"There's somebody for everybody at Hogwarts, luckily," Teddy said. "I'm sure I have a cousin or two who could help him learn the ropes if he needs it - though I'm sure he'll find his way."

He laughed at Maddie's nervous admission, finding this news wholly welcome. He knew Kathryn well enough to know she wasn't going to make his life easy. But she was a smart kid, and he found that she had much of her mother's charm with an added twist of humor. "I'm looking forward to it." And he wasn't lying.

He grinned at her words regarding the position but heaved a shrug. "I don't know yet. I just... instinctively felt like this place might be the place for me, so I'm just hoping to do some good."

The Lupin touch! He wanted to sardonically ask if that meant worrying his students into fits of rage and teaching them all to overanalyze to the point of inaction, but he didn't want to plunge back into all that murkiness, even if he did have a bit of a sense of a humor when it came to his own failings. He did suspect he would either be relatively good or a mess at the job. Of course, it was the latter part of this hypothesis that had him doubting his decision every once in awhile.

But he had never felt more at home than at Hogwarts. The Potters had made a lovely home for him, it was true, and he never went a day without feeling appreciative for it. But Hogwarts was a place where his parents had walked, where they had grown up, where they had sacrificed everything for him. In those halls, he felt their legacy and a sense of purpose. Perhaps they would help him continue to pass on their influence.

He smiled. "I hope so. To both accounts, really."

She asked about therapy and he let out a breath. "That's the question, isn't it. I mean, for now, certainly. I don't feel right helping people when I don't have the credentials myself. I know that I'll never be 100% okay, but let alone taking my own advice, I was ignoring a lot of what I knew about psychology. And the pressure to be better for my patients was making me worse so... I don't know. On paper, it's definitely the job for me. It didn't pan out though, so I'm going to move away from theories and just try for realities."