Harry Potter 1. Chapter 1

Teddy Lupin awoke to the coppery smell of his own blood. He groaned, and shifted slightly. That was a bad idea: his broken ribs seared in pain, and for moment he lay trembling on the cold, hard floor, gritting his teeth against the agony. Tentatively, he opened his eyes. From the bright sunlight shining in from a window mounted high on the wall, Teddy could tell that sunrise must have been several hours ago. Or more? He couldn't tell, he hurt too much to think clearly. All he knew was that he was lying on his back, in the corner of the shed in his grandmother's garden. And he couldn't move.

He let his eyes drift shut again, but fought against the pull of unconsciousness. Trying to focus, he performed a mental inventory of his injuries. Well, he already knew that his ribs were badly broken. He arms seemed to be functioning, so he delicately prodded his face, searching for wounds. Beneath blood-matted hair, he found claw marks at his temple and down his cheek. And of course, his lips were bitten to shreds: that was inevitable. He could feel the wetness of blood beneath his back, and knew he was injured there as well, but hopefully not too terribly.

Tentatively, he shifted his legs. When they appeared to be working properly, he gritted his teeth and attempted to hoist himself onto his elbows. Next second, he was curled up in a tight ball, whimpering. It took a long time for the pain in his ribs to subside, and when it did, all he could do was lie there, cursing his own stupidity.

His grandmother was in France on business. Hadn't she told him to make sure he had someone to help him after the full moon? But of course, he had been so sure he could handle it on his own. Or at least, he hadn't wanted to bother anyone to wake up at five in the morning and collect the injured werewolf from the garden shed. He could hear his grandmother's voice in his head, telling him not to be ridiculous. He had lots of friends. The entire Weasley family would have been more than willing to help him, and all the Order people, and of course the Potters. But, Teddy had convinced himself, those people had families, and jobs, and prior obligations that didn't involve him. And he hated being the helpless, pitied werewolf boy. It was almost worse than being the hated and feared…but he didn't want to think about that.

But he was already thinking about that, and it made him feel even more miserable, lying in a pool of his own blood, exhausted and injured and freezing cold because, damn it, his clothing and his wand were stowed away under the loose floorboard across the shed, near the door. Again, mustering all his strength and endurance, he tried to sit, but only ended up on his side once more, sobbing in agony with hot tears of pain and frustration streaming down his face. He hated feeling so _weak. _So much for being a Gryffindor.

Time passed: maybe an hour or so. Teddy wasn't sure, he drifted off a few times, but mostly he was awake: shivering uncontrollably in the winter cold and periodically attempting to move. Nothing worked, so he waited. Waited for…someone to notice his absence? Was that wishful thinking? He ran through lists of all the people who cared about him, his friends, even passing acquaintances. Could he really expect any of them to show up? Teddy could never remember feeling so alone. It was at times like these that he really missed his parents.

He thought about his father. Remus Lupin must have gone though stuff like this, but he'd still stayed strong and fought like a hero in the war. So shouldn't he be able to do the same? But it was still rather difficult to feel inspired when he was lying naked and bleeding on the freezing cold floor of a garden shed with no foreseeable means of escape.

'Teddy!'

The voice came from the opposite side of the door. Teddy's heart leapt. He opened his dry mouth and tried to speak, but no sound came out. He heard, '_Alohamora_!', and the door was flung open, letting in a cruel winter wind. There were footsteps rushing towards him, but he still couldn't bring himself to open his eyes. A welcoming sea of blackness was rushing towards him.

'Teddy! Merlin's-,'

And then there was nothing.

'I cannot believe you.'

Teddy couldn't remember ever seeing his grandmother look so simultaneously annoyed, horrified, and concerned. He shifted slightly against the pillows and tried to smile at her. 'I'm fine, Gran,' he said weakly. 'Honestly.'

Harry, standing by the door, looking only slightly less annoyed, horrified, and concerned. It had been he who had found Teddy in the shed after failing to contact him at home. It was now five in the evening, and although his injuries had been healed, bandaged, or otherwise seen to, he still ached as though he'd been run over by a train, and felt very weak and tired.

Now, Harry moved closer to the bed, eyes full of concern. 'Teddy,' he said, 'we're all here to help you. You know that, right?'

'I know,' whispered Teddy.

His grandmother wasn't satisfied. 'You could have bled to death,' she snapped.

'I know,' murmured Teddy again, letting his eyes drift shut. He felt Harry's hand brushing several locks of hair off his forehead, a gesture that he found comforting despite himself.

'I've never known him to be so silly,' he heard his grandmother saying to Harry.

Teddy felt his insides squirming in despair. It wasn't fair: he knew that he'd been stupid and senseless, but they still didn't understand what it felt like to have to ask people to help him, especially for something like this. Degrading wasn't the word for it, it was something much deeper. He tried to focus on the words around him.

'…lying in that shack for four hours. I can't even-,'

But he was beginning to drift off again. The conversation became muffled, and the warmth around him became more pronounced. He could hardly even…

'Teddy. Teddy, wake up, dear.'

He didn't want to open his eyes, but the hand on his shoulder was insistent. He forced them open and stared drowsily into his grandmother's face, 'What…?' He could tell that some time had passed—Harry was gone and it was darker outside his window.

His grandmother straightened. 'Teddy, there are some Ministry people here to talk to you.'

He stared at her in confusion. Ministry people? Had he done something wrong? In his exhaustion, he tried to remember whether he had performed magic, or violated some other law. He came up blank.

'I asked them to come back another time,' he grandmother continued, and Teddy suddenly noticed how worried she looked. 'But they were adamant…'

'What do they…?'

But there were now footsteps on the stairs and his grandmother swiftly left the room. Slightly more awake, Teddy listened closely to the exchange.

'I still don't understand why you can't return tomorrow,' his grandmother was saying severely. 'He's very tired and-,'

'Miss,' interrupted a deep voice. 'With all due respect, we are operating on a very tight schedule. This must be taken care of immediately.'

Teddy still didn't know what 'this' was, and felt his stomach clench nervously when two burly men in Ministry robes entered his room. Lying on his back with the covers drawn up to his chin, he eyed them apprehensively as they approached. The looks on their faces were ones he was all too familiar with: a mixture of hatred and revulsion and just a bit of fear. The taller one conjured up several chairs and as they sat down, they turned back to his grandmother.

'We must ask you to leave the room, Miss.'

He grandmother was bloodless, 'Absolutely not.'

The man sighed. 'Miss,' he said. 'In failing to obey our orders you flout Ministry directives and thereby risk imprisonment.'

Teddy could see his grandmother hesitating, so he spoke up, 'It's okay, Gran.' He certainly didn't want his grandmother thrown into prison on his account.

Before leaving, she cast him a fleeting look of fear that made him turn cold. What the hell was going on? Who were these people and what did they want from him?

The taller one shut the door with a flick of his wand and for a moment they just stared down at him. Teddy looked away. He felt sick.

'You are Ted Remus Lupin?' one of them suddenly asked.

'Yes,' replied Teddy. 'Who are…?'

'I am John Cuthbert and this is Stephen Wesley. We are from the Werewolf Inquisitorial Board and need to ask you a series of questions.'

_The Werewolf Inquisitorial Board?_ Teddy's stomach tightened even further.

'What is your age?' asked John Cuthbert.

'Sixteen.'

'Date of infection?'

'Date of…?'

'When were you bitten?' snapped Wesley.

'Oh,' said Teddy, swallowing. 'I wasn't…I mean, my lycanthropy is genetic.'

Wesley was now scribbling furiously on a sheaf of parchment.

'At what age did your lycanthropy manifest itself?' demanded Cuthbert.

'Three.'

'Is this your place of residence?'

'Yes…'

There was a pause while Cuthbert muttered something to Wesley and Teddy seized all of his courage. 'I'm sorry,' he said weakly, 'but what is your purpose in asking me these questions?'

Wesley turned on him sharply. 'Just answer the questions, werewolf,' he growled. Teddy flinched. He thought he saw the corner of Wesley's mouth pull upwards in a slight smirk.

'Have you ever inflicted any injury upon a human while in your wolf state?' asked Cuthbert harshly.

'No,' whispered Teddy.

'What about in your human state?'

Teddy closed his eyes. His head was pounding and spinning.

'Answer the question, werewolf!' barked Wesley's deep voice.

Trembling, he opened his eyes. 'Would you please…repeat the question?'

'I _said_,' snarled Wesley. 'Have you ever inflicted any injury upon a human while in your human state?'

'N-no,' said Teddy. 'Not beyond the normal childish fights…'

Wesley made another note, and the two men began muttering together again. Teddy looked away towards the window, feeling miserable. He was confused, and humiliated, and most of all exhausted. He wished these men would leave already. What was the Werewolf Inquisitorial Board anyhow?

Cuthbert and Wesley rose to their feet, faces grim. Teddy watched them apprehensively.

'Werewolf,' said Cuthbert, fixing Teddy with a glare. 'Under the jurisdiction of the Ministry of Magic, you are to be taken in for detainment and further questioning.'

Teddy felt himself turn cold. 'What?' he whispered. Exhaustion was clouding his mind.

'Get up,' snapped Wesley, gesturing irritably. 'Now!'

Teddy fought for something comprehensible to say. 'On…on what grounds?' he managed to choke out feebly, trying not to let them see him shaking.

'That is not your concern,' sneered Cuthbert. 'Now will you come willingly or must we bring you in by force?'

Teddy's heart pounded in horror. Were they taking him to Azkaban? He tried to sit up, but fell back against the pillows, too weak to move. He closed his eyes.

Rough hands were suddenly seizing him by the arms, yanking him up and out of bed, dropping him hard onto the floor. Where the ground made contact with his healing bruises and scratches and bites, dormant pain erupted to life. He curled into a ball, whimpering.

The bedroom door flew open. In the midst of his agony, he heard his grandmother's angry voice, 'What the _hell_ is going on?'

'Miss,' came Cuthbert's voice. 'Under Ministry jurisdiction, we are placing this werewolf under arrest.'

'_Excuse me?_'

Teddy found himself being dragged upright by his collar. He just barely avoided crying out from the pain this inflicted on his newly healed ribs. He saw his grandmother standing there slack-jawed. Then, she recovered herself.

'Put him down!' she shrieked.

But Teddy's arms were now being bound to his sides with thick black ropes from Wesley's wand. The pain had receded to a steady throb, and Teddy was suddenly struck by the reality of what was happening. _Arrested? _

'What has he done to deserve this?' cried his grandmother.

The two men ignored her question. 'Miss,' snapped Cuthbert. 'Please move aside.'

'I will not-!'

Through a haze of pain, exhaustion, and confusion, Teddy saw Cuthbert level a wand and his grandmother. 'Miss, don't force me to…'

'_Teddy!_'

_Bang!_ In shock, Teddy watched the dark shape that was his grandmother collapse to the floor. He opened his mouth and tried to speak, but all that came out was a shuddering gasp.

'Come on,' Cuthbert was muttering. 'We can Disapparate from outside.'

Wesley was gripping him tightly by the upper arms and began half-carrying, half-dragging Teddy down the staircase. He tried to stay focused, tried to stay awake, but the darkness was closing in on him… and then…nothing.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks so much to the people who reviewed! **

'Wake up, werewolf.'

Teddy Lupin heard the voice, echoing somewhere in a very distant part of his head. Somehow, his mind failed to connect the sentence to its implications. It was meaningless—just a random string of words. He was too tired to make sense of it.

'Werewolf! Now!'

That voice again, only this time it was accompanied by a sharp blow to the side of his head. Teddy's eyes snapped open, involuntarily. Blinking rapidly, he tried to adjust to the sudden bright light. He was too disorientated to think properly, he couldn't work out where he was or what was going on. Wincing at the pain in his stinging ear, he tried to reach up and touch it, only to find his arms bound to his sides. _Oh, hell_.

Through still-bleary eyes, he tried to take in his blurry surroundings. He was fairly certain that he was indoors, and the walls appeared to be some drab, grey shade. There were several colourful shapes moving around him, or, well, hovering over him since he appeared to be slumped on the ground. He tried to straighten up, and one of the colourful shapes yelled, 'Don't move!' and kicked him—hard—in the ribs. He moaned, and someone gave a scratchy laugh.

Almost abruptly, his eyes began to work properly. In desperation, he stared around at the colourful shapes, which turned out to be people. Ministry people, wearing Ministry robes. Furiously, he tried to force his sleep-befuddled mind to wake up, to think. He needed to focus. He resisted the urge to sit up, the stabbing pains in his only recently healed ribs serving to reinforce this.

'Werewolf, can you hear me?'

Inwardly, Teddy cringed at being addressed thus. He glanced up into the man's severe face—completely unfamiliar. His head was clearer and he now knew what he needed—answers.

'What's going on?' he asked hoarsely, forcing himself not to look away from the man's narrowed eyes.

'Shut it,' snapped someone else. 'We have some questions for you to answer.'

Teddy forced himself not to groan. More questions. He shifted slightly against the wall, and someone's foot slammed him, again, in the ribs. He cried out before he could help himself, then clamped his lips shut. 'You were told to stay still!' someone snarled.

In a haze of pain, Teddy closed his eyes and tried to breathe evenly. Common sense was telling him to just shut up and do what he was told. Another part of him, the proud, nervy Gryffindor part of him, was encouraging him to do whatever the hell he had to in order to defy these bastards, and hadn't he suffered worse pain than his ribs? Teddy opened his eyes, aware that common sense was losing this battle, and not even trying to fight it. His father's face swam into his mind's eyes—his father, who had died to protect people like these Ministry idiots. Indignation, hot and overpowering, numbed the pain in his ribs. His head was perfectly clear now.

The first question came: 'What is your place of residence?'

Teddy considered this, then glanced up and spoke in an acidic tone, 'I'm not answering any of your damned questions until you tell me what's going on.' He hesitated, then added, 'I have rights, you know.'

The foot swung out again, but this time Teddy was ready for it. Using his legs to propel himself, he scooted to the side in time to dodge the blow. Gritting his teeth against the throbbing pain, he addressed the severe-faced man, 'I want to know who you people are. I haven't done anything wrong, and I want to know why I've been grabbed.' Blessedly, his words came out smooth and steady, with an angry undertone.

The severe-faced man, whose face was really nothing more than a mass of sharp angles and pointy cheekbones, with two pinprick black eyes and colourless hair, sneered. 'No one cares about what you _want_, boy.'

It took some effort for Teddy to avoid rolling his eyes. They were predictable, these people. At least he had been promoted from 'werewolf' to 'boy'. He fixed the man cold glare, and said, 'If you really are from the Ministry, then you must know that there are rules and regulations you have to follow when you arrest somebody.'

One of the other men, a great hulking giant who, Teddy was quite sure, was responsible for all the kicking, bared his teeth. Teddy braced himself for another dose of pain, but none came. The severe-faced man was now scowling heavily. 'You think you're something, don't you, werewolf?' _So much for the promotion…_

The man crouched down so his face was just a few inches from Teddy's. Teddy recoiled slightly, but the man simply leaned closer, his breath stinking of garlic and toothpaste. He spoke very softly, a dangerous glint in his eye. 'You're going to answer our questions, and when we're through with that you are going to do exactly as we tell you to. You have no rights. We don't follow any rules. Is that understood, werewolf?'

Teddy stared at him. A small knot of fear had surfaced somewhere in his gut. This was bad…

'I _said_,' growled the man, shoving his bony face even closer to Teddy's. '_Do you understand?_ Or do things have to get ugly?'

Lurking behind him, the other men chuckled nastily. Teddy swallowed. The fear was getting worse, and he didn't like it at all. Common sense was starting to sound like a very good idea, but he wasn't ready to give up just yet. Damned Gryffindor pride. He looked the man right in the eye. 'Tell me why I'm here,' he said stubbornly, 'and I'll answer your questions.'

The man stood up, face impassive. Calmly, he removed his wand from his robes and leveled it at Teddy. The dangerous glint in his eye had turned practically maniacal. 'The questions begin now,' he murmured, 'and failing to answer them will only allow me to increase my proficiency of the Cruciatus Curse.'

Teddy felt himself turn cold.

'What is your place of residence?'

Teddy swallowed. 'I already went through this with your mates,' he told the severe-faced man. 'Why don't you just check in with them?'

'_Cru_—,'

'St. John's Wood!' Teddy blurted out. 'Number twelve Cavendish Lane, in St. John's Wood.' He took a deep, shaky breath, but the terrible sickening dread was palpable. Why did giving in make him feel so weak?

The man was smirking. Teddy heard the scratching of a quill on parchment, and knew what someone was taking notes. The next question came, forcefully, 'Where do you transform?'

Teddy swallowed. 'In a shed, in the garden.'

'Always?'

'Yes.'

'Can anyone confirm that?' the man wanted to know.

'My grandmother,' whispered Teddy. 'Andromeda Tonks.'

The man eyed him wrathfully. 'What colour is your fur?'

Teddy hoped they couldn't see his hands shaking at his sides. 'I don't know,' he answered truthfully.

The man took a step closer, bearing down on him. 'I'm going to ask again,' he said in a very quiet voice. '_What colour is your fur?_'

Suddenly, the indignation was back, hot and furious. 'How the hell should I know?' he snapped, glaring. 'Do you think I have someone take photos of me during the full moon? I haven't a clue what colour I am, and I don't care! If you're so curious, then feel free to drop by the shed next month and have a look, but no guarantees that I won't rip off your bloody—,'

Suddenly, Teddy was in excruciating pain. His entire body was on fire; his bones seemed to be twisting, his flesh crumbling. He had never experienced something like this in his life. It was worse even than the full moon. And then, it was over. He was lying curled up on his side, shaking and gasping and sobbing. Cruel laughter rang through the room.

'Sit up!'

But Teddy couldn't sit up. The pain in his ribs was intense; the torture had rendered him weak and drained. With his arms bound tightly to his sides, he had no means of pushing himself upright. Closing his eyes, he wondered what they would do to him now. He tried not to think about it.

Rough hands were on him, yanking him into an upright sitting position. His ribs screamed in protest, and a soft whimper escaped him before he could help it. He opened his watery eyes and looked up at the severe-faced man, who appeared to be enjoying this immensely. 'You'll be sorry if you give me any more cheek, boy.'

Teddy didn't respond. He wanted to go home.

'Have you ever bitten anyone?' demanded the man harshly.

Teddy shook his head, staring at his knees. An annoyed voice inside his head was telling him to fight, not to concede like this. But it seemed there was nothing he could do.

**A/N: What do you think? Please please please review! (I promise it won't be this depressing the whole way through…) **


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Harry Potter, Angst