Disclaimer: I never own anything.
This was going to be Lysander, but I picture him as very sweet and maybe a bit naïve. Scorpius, though, has too much Slytherin in his blood not to be at least a bit of an ass so I figured, what the hell.
Warning: Way too much swearing.
a lily/teddy fic.
It was dark and stormy, to be cliché and ironic, that night.
If one of the Malfoys peeked out the front window at that very second, they would see a very odd sight indeed. Teddy Lupin, drenched in the pouring rain, his hair flashing red, eyes a misty black, and his fist clenching and unclenching, knuckles white. But nobody looked. Inside the house, everyone was asleep, from Draco Malfoy himself to his (paid) house elves, with the exception of a young, seventeen-year-old boy still awake in his room.
With a steady, skilled hand, Teddy picks up a nicely-sized rock, and flings it at the glowing window as hard as he can. It comes crashing through the glass, shards flying into the dimly-lit room. It makes a loud, shattering noise, but the boom of thunder in the distance drowns it out almost completely.
A white-blond head peeps out. "What the fuck?" Scorpius Malfoy screeches at him, the fairness of his hair visible in the black night.
Stonily, Teddy stares back, never breaking his gaze.
Scorpius understands and disappears from the window, only to appear in his pyjamas, scuffling out the front door and stomping towards the man in fault. "Are you mad, Lupin?" he screams, his hands going up every which way. His face is pink, and his hair almost seems to shine in anger. "Are you drunk, or something? What the hell is your problem?"
Readily, Teddy steps forward to meet him and their chests crash together. Teddy's strong hand grips the front of Scorpius' thin, expensive shirt and he tugs them close and upwards until they're eye-to-eye, Scorpius' feet almost off the ground. "What did you do to Lily?" Teddy asks menacingly. His tone is calm, but the way his lips are pulling back to reveal his teeth, the way he is the epitome of calm before the storm, it belongs in a Muggle horror movie - this half-werewolf man who's got the blood of killers and the skill of disguise and is out with the purpose of possible murder.
"This is about Lily?" Scorpius cries almost disbelievingly. "We split up. It's none of your fucking business, Lupin, now get your filthy hands off of me, you git."
Teddy thrashes his hands, shaking Scorpius' lean body mercilessly, almost choking him with the grip his fists have upon the young boy's shirt. "Everything about Lily is my business!" Teddy bellows, his voice ringing in Malfoy's ears. "NOW TELL ME WHAT YOU FUCKING DID TO HER."
"You love her," Scorpius laughs mockingly. "Wow, Lupin, you've really outdone yourself in the category of idiocy this time. Teddy Lupin! In love with Lily Potter!" He sneers, inconspicuously tugging away from Teddy's loosening fingers. "Imagine the headlines."
He looks at the ground, watches the raindrops pound into the seemingly-melting muddy grounds. "Shut the hell up," he growls, his fingers pinching the pale skin of Scorpius' chest.
"She'll never love you," Scorpius yells at him matter-of-factly. "You're wasting your time here. You think beating me up will make her love you? Newsflash: She. Will. Never. Love. You."
Losing control, Teddy forms a fist and slams it into Scorpius' chiseled face, making the younger boy tumble backwards, his hand coming up to catch the blood now pouring from his nose, staining his pale face. The feeling of satisfaction outweighs the stinging in Teddy's raw knuckles, and he stretches to his full height, looking threatening. "No one makes Lily cry like that," he warns, and Scorpius backs away. "You're dead."
Teddy throws another punch messily, and it collides with Scorpius' mouth. "She's seventeen, you're twenty-eight, Lupin," Scorpius reminds weakly as Teddy puts his entire weight into knocking him down. "You're sick!"
"And you're scum!" Teddy roars. Words speed through his head, memories, faded images. Lily at two, with her first words: "I wan Teddy!" Lily at five, giggling about nothing as they stare at clouds. Lily at seven, in her purple polka dot dress. Lily twirling around him at eleven, ready for Hogwarts. Lily at thirteen, crying in his arms for her first heartbreak. Lily with dragon fever, Flooing to Romania and leaving him behind at age fifteen. Lily at sixteen, all long legs and short skirt and dangerous smirk. Lily at seventeen, long red hair and ruby lips and too, too tempting. He wants her he loves her he needs her he's hers, he's always been hers, but she'll never be his to has. "Apologize," he demands, looking psychotic. "Say you're sorry!"
"I'm sorry," Scorpius mutters, and then turns his head so that grey meets black, that goddamn Slytherin smirk sliding across his face greasily, "that you're going to have to watch as Lily gets out of bed with that oh-so-perfect arse and makes me a sandwich."
Every bit of frustration Teddy's ever experienced - from the time nine-year-old Lily wouldn't go to sleep to just a week ago, when seventeen-year-old Lily was prancing around in that thigh-high miniskirt and he wants to feel her lips on his, her legs wrapped around his waist but that can never happen - is unleashed as his limbs flail, pounding and plunging into every surface that is Scorpius Malfoy until the boy is lying bruised and battered, bloody and unconscious on the cold ground.
Teddy drags the boy's limp body to the front door, where Draco Malfoy finds his son later and believes the excuse that he'd snuck out and gotten beat up at a bar but unfortunately couldn't remember anything else.
He leaves alone, like he enters alone. As that fucking redhead consumes his mind once again, he lets just one tear fall and blames it on the fact that his knuckles are sore as hell.
The rain has finally stopped and everything is frozen.
He arrives outside her window at approximately four am, and because they've got this damned connection she's sitting up, bleary-eyed, watching outside the window as he comes into view.
The tiny, itsy bitsy smile that forms on the corner of her face lights up his entire world.
She comes outside, wrapped in a blanket that barely covers her thin, nearly-see through nightgown. "I knew I was right; you are mad, Teddy Lupin," she teases as she stands on her front step, her feet in flip-flops. His head is hung like a stray, kicked dog, and he can't bear to look her in the eye. "Ted, what happened?" she asks suddenly, concern and curiosity lacing her voice.
All of a sudden he realises that his hand has been slowly dripping blood this entire time, and there are bruises and cuts all over his jaw and stomach and arms where Scorpius had clawed and fought back. "I - er - walked through a thicket of thorns," he lies weakly, and Lily hides a giggle.
"You're such a dumbass," she grumbles. "So, Scorpius did have the balls to fight back." He can't register her comment yet because her fingers are stroking the angry red wounds on his knuckles, her touch immediately numbing the pain so all he feels is her love.
"How'd you know?" he murmurs softly when he regains his voice.
She smiles, wide and mischievous. "You're my best friend in the world, Teddy," she explains. "I'd do anything for you, and you'll do anything for me. If it was a girl breaking your heart like that, I would've thrown a bitch fit at her, too. Maybe in a more clever way - like cursing her hair off or mangling her face permanently - but with the same intention anyway." She laughs quietly, and inches closer to him. His hair glistens green in the twilight, the same shade as her eyes.
"I love you," Teddy blurts out, and everything in the world stops to breathe in this moment, with his eyes dark in anticipation and confusion and terror and his hair dark jade, hinting at his desire, his wants. He's scared to fucking death because this is the moment where everything comes together, or else shatters and can never be returned to its original position. He loves her and that's all he really knows but she's got such a bright future, and so much blooming for him and he's old and heartbroken and so, so experienced in the art of unrequited.
And then a grin is spreading across her face, but it's not the loving smirk he pictured in his dreams too many times. "I love you too, Teddy," she answers, and pulls him into a tight (just friends) hug and they fit together like how clouds belong to the sky and Romeo belongs to Juliet and your feet belong to the ground and Teddy's heart belongs to Lily but never the other way around.
He sighs and grips her to him, relishing in the moment. She buries her face in his chest and lets his scent surround her and he doesn't tell her, doesn't let her know that she's quite possibly broken his heart beyond repair.