Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. So most of my fics involve Ted marrying Vic and Lily watching. I thought I'd give Teddy a taste of his own medicine. So this is sort of the alternate version of This is Goodbye. But you don't have to read that to get this.
Listen to: Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want by The Smiths.
can make a good man turn bad
-"Please don't marry him." Tracks in the snow. She disappears. He is alone.
( lily & teddy )
so please, please, please, let me, let me, let me,
let me get what i want this time
"Please don't marry him," he breathes. Warm air coming out of his mouth in foggy puffs. The cold winter air biting both of their exposed hearts. "Please."
Yanks her arm out of his loose grasp. "Go away." Scathingly. Eye contact with, God, those greengreengreenasperfection eyes. They beg you. Beg you to lose control. To fucking give up everything for her. And Merlin, he would in a heartbeat if she would only let him.
Lets her fingers slip through his. Tracks in the snow. She disappears. He is alone.
He loses his breath when he sees her next. Running her fingers over that white dress. Hair showering down her back like beauty. Eyes like perfection. "You look beautiful." Heart skips a beat. She turns. Looks. Lungs dying.
He brushes back her hair. Strokes her pale cheek. She looks away. "I love you," he whispers. "I love you."
"He loves me too." Pain. Confession. Want. Need.
"No one can ever love you more than me."
Silence. Seconds. Tick, tock.
(And then she presses her lips against yours.)
Everything explodes. Fire everywhere. Flames. Burning bridges. Destroying plans. GodGodGod, he loves her as she presses him against the wall and kisses his neck.
Lysander slips an arm around her. He watches. Fist clenched. Hair black. Eyes red. "Love you," the blond-haired wonder murmurs in her ear. Presses his lips against the side of her head.
"Love you more," she giggles back. Torturously. He grips his wand. Sparks fly.
He feels sick when she won't catch his eye.
Lysander comes up to him. Clueless. "Want to be in the wedding?" he asks. Blue eyes sparkle. God, he hates him. "Lily would love you to be."
Lily would love me if it weren't for you. "No," he growls back. Uncontrollable. Hands shaking.
Blond eyebrows turn down. Aw, is perfect boy unhappy? "Why not?"
"I just don't." Anger revealed. She's mine. She's always been mine.
He doesn't press you further. The only thing you don't loathe about him.
Slams drinks down on top of the counter. Bartender cuts him off at midnight. He leaves. Wanders the streets outside the Leaky. Moans. Groans. Pathetic.
"Jesus, Teddy." A black-haired man with green eyes identical to the ones he treasures. "Come on, now, let's get you home."
"I love your daughter." Everything freezes. Harry lets go of his elbow. "I love your daughter but she doesn't love me because she's marrying that fucking git and I'm alone and drunk."
Harry runs a hand through his air. Blinks. Sighs. "I'm sorry," he says finally. Apologizes for events that are not his fault. That's his thing.
"Me, too." Collapse. Pavement collides with knees. Blackness.
"You're an idiot." She's at his bedside in that God-awful lonely flat. Tears on her cheeks. Hair floating. Stroking his forehead. "I hate you."
"I hate me too." She smiles. Droplets drip onto his neck. "I love you."
"Stop saying that," she demands.
"'I hate me' or 'I love you'?"
Leans down and kisses you. Softly. Gently. Careful not to bruise. Pulls away. He wants to tug her back. Hold her close. Never let go. "I can't do this."
Just as quickly as she arrived, she leaves.
Wedding music beginning inside.
He's stuck in his Muggle car. Listening to the radio. Some fucking Muggle wailing about lost love. Yeah. Like you've got it so bad.
By now, she's marching down the aisle in that fucking perfect dress, off to that fucking perfect life with the fucking white picket fence. He wants to hate her so bad.
(He loves her so bad.)
Stands at the doorway. Watches. Waits. Just like always.
She turns around and meets his gaze. Tear falls down.
He dies a little inside.
He just lost everything, congrats.
(But it's not like he had a lot in the first place.)
He catches her in his arms on the dance floor. Twirls her around like it's meant to be.
(But, fuck, it is and it isn't.)
"It all ends here," he says. He wants to laugh 'cause it's so depressing it's funny.
"Don't do this now," she sighs. Her head fits into his neck fucking perfectly. He can't help but remember those lips in that exact spot. Her moan. Perfection.
"I'm sorry," he murmurs into the top of her head. Presses a kiss, lost in her hair. "I'll always love you."
Lets his fingers slip through hers. Tracks on her heart. He disappears. She is surrounded by people.
He is still alone.