Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or anything else that is the property of J. K. Rowling.
WARNING! Contains spoilers for the last book!
My name is Teddy Lupin. I'm named after my grandfather, who was killed during the second war against Voldemort.
I never met him, but I'm told he was a muggle, and was forced to go on the run when Voldemort took over the ministry and started pushing muggle registration laws.
I've met my parents, I suppose, but I don't remember them. That's okay, I think. My godfather says they were killed fighting in the Battle for Hogwarts, the last battle against Voldemort. He says they died together. He thinks it was fitting that they go together.
Mum was an Auror, he says, and a member of the Order of the Phoenix. She was also a metamorphagus, like me. He says she wore her hair short and bright pink, and was dead clumsy. He laughs as he says that.
Dad, he says, was in the Order too. He taught Defense at Hogwarts for a year as well. He says Dad was the best Defense professor they had. Taught my godfather how to summon a patronus, Dad did.
Dad was a marauder, my godfather says, and one of his dad's best friends. My godfather doesn't remember his parents either, you know. Dad was the brains of behind the legacy, my godfather reckons.
Dad was a werewolf, my godfather says. And a good man, always putting everyone else first. My godfather says he was brave, and kind, and probably more powerful than he let on.
My godfather says he was always sad, though he hid it well. And tired, and worried. Dad's in a better place now, he says, a place where he need not fear the moon. A place where he and Mum and Padfoot and Prongs and Fred can run wild and Lilly can tease them about being so silly, and Snape can roll his eyes and pretend to be annoyed, and DUmbledore can watch merrily with a twinkle in his eyes while Mad-Eye finally realizes there's no longer a need for constant vigilance. At least, that's what my godfather says.
All this, he says, while Ginny and Hermione agree, tears for those lost in the war threatening to overwhelm them, and Ron clears his throat, and nods fervently in agreement. And George looks happy again at the thought of Fred causing trouble with the Marauders.
Yeah, I wish I could remember them. Yeah, I miss them. And yeah, I wish they could be here.
The thing is, though, mostly I'm proud of them. Proud that they gave their lives so that I and everyone else could have a chance to live in this world, with less fear, less prejudice. And I try to make sure that sacrifice was not in vain. I try to make sure that, if they were here, they'd be proud of me. And you know what, I think they would be.
Even if I did end up in Slytherin.