Devonshire

Between the long travel by train and the drive from London, it was dark by the time the enchanted Ministry car pulled up to Antarmada Cottage on the outskirts of Ottery St. Catchpole. It was a pleasant little home, tucked away in the hills. Its first owners had fled with the wizarding war; after, when they didn't return, Andromeda Tonks moved in to escape the memories haunting her former home.

The old witch was nowhere to be seen now, but her presence inside was announced by the windows, half of which glowed with a warm light as though welcoming their youngest resident home. Teddy jumped from the car's backseat and ran around to meet the driver as she stepped out from behind the wheel.

"Thanks for the ride, Aunt 'Mione."

The curly-haired woman smiled warmly and ruffled the boy's purple hair. "Think nothing of it, Ted. Now go on in and say hello to your gran. I'll have your luggage upstairs in a jiff."

Ted beamed at her and nodded his thanks before pulling open the other rear door. He beckoned to his fellow passenger from Hogwarts, as well as to the red-eyed black dog lurking in the floor boards. "C'mon in, Rou. I'll show you around."

Roland Dylanis had slept most of the way from King's Cross to Ottery St. Catchpole. One reason was because the long train ride from Scotland to London was tiring and frustrating due to how inconvenient it felt to the boy at times, and another was because Rou was wanting to avoid possibly asking stupid questions to Hermione Granger, whom Rou had heard so much about during his upbringing in Swansea. Another was so he could have himself some peace over his decision to completely disregard informing his grandfather about his Spring Break detour to spend it with Ted Lupin, who had invited Roland when it was discovered that Rou was originally just going to hang around Hogwarts during Break; There's no way Grandpa Roland would bring Rou home for break, even to further train the boy.

Blushing a bit as he woke up and saw Ted trying to shoo him out of the car, Rou got out from the backseat and gave himself a good stretch before following Ted inside. Rou was rather curious as to what, exactly, Ted would be showing him inside the modest-looking cottage, but then again he was more concerned with the fact that his grandfather would probably kill him if he found out about the boy's little excursion. Still, Ted insisted and Rou could probably come up with a convenient excuse, but right now it was still a bit nerve-wracking.

"That would be nice," Rou said softly to Ted before beginning to follow his friend toward the cottage. "I still have no idea how you convinced me to do this, Ted."

"Don't worry so much. It'll be fine." Ted's smile never wavered, though he did roll his eyes in a joking matter. Roland had been fretting ever since they first decided to go through with the idea of a spring break visit. At this rate, Rou wasn't going to enjoy himself at all. "Your Gramps has got no reason to look for you down here. And he doesn't check in on you that much, right? So he'll never know you left Hogwarts. So just relax. We're here to have fun."

As they talked, they'd moved up the path to the front door, putting them well enough away that Hermione couldn't hear them from where she was unloading the boot. Padfoot II, who'd spent the trip curled up between them on the floor, slunk from the bushes to the front hall, where he took shelter in the shadows by the stairs. He seemed to like Roland better than most of Ted's friends. Or at least, he was more willing to leave the metamorph alone with him.

Inside, the ground floor of the cottage contained more rooms than it should have based on its exterior. There was the living room, the sitting room, a study, the kitchen, dining room, pantry, a guest's water closet, and his grandmother's personal room and bath. The furniture contained there was old-fashioned but not expensive; the floors, mostly hardwood covered with rugs. Various paintings, houseplants, and the occasional family photo served as decoration.

"So!" Ted bounded ahead, happy as always to be back in his familiar home. "This is the place. You and me, Rou, we'll be upstairs -- Gran doesn't like climbing if she can help it, so it'll basically be all ours. Dinner and breakfast usually happens in here, though we can get lunch whenever we want it, and if we want to catch the Saturday Adventure dramas the radio's right in--"

"Teddy?"

Ted's eyes lit up. An older woman had just emerged from the kitchen. "Grandma!"

He flung himself into Andromeda's waiting arms. Andromeda Tonks was a regal old witch whose back remained strong despite her age. Her hair had been charmed a pretty silver-blue that Ted understood had once been popular in the wigs of older muggles. As always happened when he returned home from school, she hugged her grandson a bit too tight. Teddy didn't complain, nor would he abscribe the tremor in her wrinkled hands to be anything but a symptom of age.

When they parted at last, he kept one hand holding his grandmother's and beckoned Rou to come closer. "Here, let me introduce you. Gran, this is my classmate, Mister Roland Dylanis the...tenth? Yes, tenth. Rou, this is my grandmother, Andromeda Tonks."

"I honestly don't know, Ted," Rou said in response to the first question, "Grandpa Roland would probably be proud that I actually showed some...initiative, for once. At the same time, he could be furious that I went behind his back and disobeyed him, even if I technically didn't disobey an order from him." Orders, that's what Grandpa always called them; they weren't parental commands or stuff of that nature, they were orders. Rou stuck with Ted as they entered the house and he was given the brief tour, though Rou was puzzled that Ted lived with his grandmother instead of his proper godfather, Harry Potter.

"Nice to meet you...ma'am," Rou said quietly as he shyly averted his eyes from Andromeda. He lightly kicked his feet on the carpet and looked down at them, as if finding them fascinating enough to enjoy over meeting another new person. Between Ted and Aoife, Rou was getting dragged around into social things a lot more than he was comfortable with. Even so...it had a certain appeal. "Ted's been really nice to me, Missus Tonks."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, as well. But Miss Andi is fine."

Ted nodded sagely, hoping that Rou would understand that the 'suggestion' was actually a request. Polite though it may be, being called 'Missus' always depressed Gran, because it reminded her of the marriage and husband that she had lost.

"Dylanis...that's a fine old name. You wear it well. Thank you for being so kind to my Ted. Do let me know if you need anything." The old woman squeezed her grandson's hand and patted his hair, but apparently managed to restrain her desire for a second hug. "You boys go wash up now. Dinner will ready in a tick."

She kissed his forehead and retreated to the kitchen with wand in hand. Ted gave Rou a sheepish smile. In a few years, he supposed that he'd be embarrassed to get that sort of attention in front of his mates; but he didn't have the heart to begrudge hid gran for it now. "Right, so...there's a washroom and a water closet upstairs. And I can show you the room."

He snagged Rou's shirt sleeve on the way past and tugged to him to the staircase. When they were half-way up, their heads sticking into the second story, Ted slowed and dropped his voice to a lower volume. "Sorry about all that. Gran's been getting a bit lonely while I'm at school. The neighbors and Harry's family come by all the time, of course, but...it's not the same as family. You know?"

Rou nodded at Andromeda's compliment toward him, though secretly he didn't believe it, not after years of having one of the greatest Dylanis scions telling him, subtly, that the legacy of both his surname and his given name were far out of reach for the boy to live up to. Her sentiment was appreciated, but not really regarded to the boy. Rou smirked slightly as Ted gave him an embarrassed smile with regards toward her affections for him, if only because the boy found it interesting to see his bold, adventurous Gryffindor friend so put-off by it.

Rou followed Ted up the stairs, where Ted apologized for his grandmother's actions. Rou's smile saddened slightly when he heard that before the two of them reached the top. Rou followed Lupin to his room, where Rou set down the small sack of belongings he'd brought from Hogwarts before pulling out his father's old dagger from his waistband. Turning the sheathed blade over in his hands a few times, Rou was finally able to bring himself to set the weapon down on top of his rucksack. For once, Rou didn't feel the need to keep his memento pressed against the back of his hips at all times, because for once he felt welcome and safe.

Roland turned around and made for the washroom, giving his hands a quick soap and rinse before splashing his face a couple of times and combing his hair. Rou then returned to the room and sat down next to his friend on the bed. A small look of depression came over Rou's face before he stooped to remove his shoes and socks, not really wanting to say anything for a bit.

"You know, Ted," Rou said softly as he finished pulling off his socks and wiggled his toes, which were content to be free from the Converse shoes he'd been wearing all day, "As unlikely a family that you have, they still show you all the love and affection you need...I'd love for that to be the case with me." Rou smiled sadly as he finished, his eyes now rather focused on his toes, clenching and unclenching them as he thought about what Ted might respond with...

Even with an extra guest bed crowded in, there was plenty of space in Ted's room for the boys to spread out, and Ted took advantage of it the moment he could. It took him all of five minutes to kick his trainers into the corner, pad into the washroom in his socks, and re-emerge with his hair turned to his Gran's favorite shade of lavender. While Roland took his turn, the young man of the house checked on their luggage (which was waiting in the hall), built a makeshift nest for Padfoot II (who was hiding under the Rou's bed), and then immediately grew bored.

He found his eyes wandering to the dagger that Rou had set aside. Though Dylanis had had the thing on him all semester, this was the first time Ted -- or likely, much of anyone -- had been able to see it up-close. Curious, Ted picked it up. He knew nothing about knives, yet it was clear even to him that both blade and sheaf were well cared for despite the wear of time.

Roland returned, looking depressed. As he sat in silence, Ted wondered if he aught to say something, or put the knife back, but Rou didn't seem to notice he had it. Finally, Roland spoke again. Ted frowned. What were you supposed to say to something like that?

"Yeah," he muttered, turning the knife over in his hands. "I'm pretty lucky. If it weren't for Harry..." Gran was great. Better than great. Perfect. But there was only so much a little old lady could do.

Still... "You know Rou, even if you don't see it or hear it much at home, I'm sure you're loved just as much. I mean...somebody gave you this, right?" Ted offered the sheaved blade back to its owner. "I've seen how you are with this. You reach for it more often than your wand. It protects you, yeah? Keeps you safe. That's a kind of love. One of the strongest of all."

He smiled. His teeth were slightly crooked, due to the awkward placement of his last baby tooth, which refused to morph. "So who was it? The person who gave this to you, I mean."

Rou's lips tightened as Ted asked about his father's dagger, gingerly taking the curved blade and briefly grasping the hilt, as it contemplating pulling the blade out and simply looking at it. Instead, Roland sighed and lightly placed the dagger on top of his pillow, though his mouth was still rather tense as a bundle of feelings washed over the boy. He looked to Ted, and saw his friend smiling at him, that same old crooked smile that he often flashed whenever he wanted to cheer Rou up. His friend's smile helped him to tame his emotions for the time being, though Roland still needed to answer his question.

"It was my father's," Rou said quietly after some contemplation, "He was one of the best Aurors to ever serve the American Magical Government. He and Grandpa had a...weird relationship. After Grandpa adopted me..."

"Boys," called Ted's grandmother from below, "time for supper! Made something special for you two!" Rou's attention was taken from his friend to the door, and a small smile came to his face, looking to Ted as if he'd never been addressed with that sort of affection before. Roland rose, cutting off his story and looking forward more toward the delicious meal waiting below.

(You can go on ahead and make up the meal they'll have. I'm sure you'd know what Andromeda would make better than me, anyway.)

Rou's father...

Ted had been vaguely aware that Rou's parents, like his own, were most likely dead. It wasn't something that people talked about, it was just a feeling he'd always gotten from the way Roland talked about his home life and his grandfather. Though curious, Ted wasn't sure whether he was ready to delve into such matters now, not when they were still settling in at home. Luckily, before it got too tense, Gran called them down for dinner.

Happily, Ted led the way back downstairs, where a meal of roast beef (rare and red, just like Ted liked it), sweet peas, and roasted potatoes were waiting. With Andromeda there, everything was low-key compared to the chaos of a Hogwarts feast, mostly filled by Ted telling her everything that had happened this semester and occasionally pressing Rou to chime in.

Hours flew by in a happy haze and, before they knew it, the boys were back upstairs for bed. Ted -- now barefoot in pajama pants and a t-shirt -- hung upside down off the edge of his bed to offer Padfoot a bowl of leftovers. Then he bounced back like a rubber ball and buried his bare feet in the sheets.

"Fair warning -- the chance of us being woken up tomorrow by at least one tiny red-head is almost one-hundred percent." He laughed at the thought. At Christmas, there'd been a standing rule that he was to be left alone the night he returned for Grandma-time; but after the first night he was fair game for all cousins. Roland would not be immune, and the thought of his inevitable tackling tickled the metamorph's funny bone.

But as he settled in, the jovial atmosphere faded. Their stomachs were full and the night was fully dark. A tiny crescent moon peaked through the curtains, offering just enough light that they'd be able to see once the lights were put out.

Ted wiggled his toes in the sheets and rolled over, peering across at his classmate in the opposite bed. "Hey, Rou...? What was that you were saying before, about your dad?"

Rou felt content for seemingly the first time in his life while eating dinner, especially in seeing Ted and Andromeda act so loving toward each other, a far cry from what he was used to. The food was delicious and filling and Roland would be content to never eat again as far as he was concerned. And so now, here he was in the upstairs bedroom with Ted Lupin, the Boy Who Lived's godson and one of his first real friends. And Ted was bringing up his father after Rou had hoped that he would drop the subject altogether. Roland sat up in bed and pulled his knees to his chest, stealing a quick glance as his father's old dagger on the bedside table, secured and sheathed, before sighing and speaking in a rather quiet, world-weary tone of voice.

"You ever wonder why I talk like an American, Ted?" he started slowly, "I was born in Swansea the night that Harry Potter and Ron Weasley destroyed one of Voldemort's horcruxes. My dad was an American, as is my Grandpa Roland." Rou made sure to mention that his grandfather's name was the same name he carried, if only to clear some of the air between them.

"My mum was Welsh, Sian Bowen," Roland knew that Ted wouldn't recognize the Dylanis name, it being more prominent in America, but he'd found, ever since started at Hogwarts, that mentioning his mother's maiden name would get a few heads turned. "My father was sent to Britain on assignment, tasked to monitor the Voldemort Crisis for the Magical Government after Voldemort's return was made public. While living in Swansea, dad...fell in love." Rou chuckled softly at this, trying to imagine his dad falling head-over-heels in love like the way his grandfather described it. As he did so, the boy reached over and picked up the old dagger and drew it from its sheathe, looking at his reflection in the dim lamplight.

"Mum and dad were forced to go on the run when the Ministry fell; dad was a 'person of interest' to the Death Eaters," Rou continued, "Wound up killing a few Snatchers with this dagger during those harrowing months. Some weeks after I was born, dad arranged for the three of us to get transported to America, where mum and I would be safe from Voldemort. Grandpa made the arrangements, and mum and dad were getting ready to meet our escort one night when Greyback and his party of Snatchers broke in..." Tears had begun welling in Roland's eyes as he told this, and then they began to fall onto the shining surface of his dad's blade as he trailed off. Biting his lip to suppress the small sobs that he'd begun having, Rou tried to continue in as even a tone of voice as he could.

"They fought as hard as they could, but...it wasn't enough. Greyback would have turned me if not for Grandpa...he was able to ambush and drive off the Snatchers then he took me home to America," Rou concluded, then finally his eyes closed shut as the tears came on in full, "This old thing is all I have left of my father; it was the only thing of his that Grandpa let me have...he always says that holding onto memories like this is a sign of weakness, I think he lets me keep this simply because it's a weapon, rather powerful one at that." Rou gripped the dagger's hilt tightly, focusing upon his distorted reflection upon the blade's surface, marred by his crying, and then tossed it back onto the bedside table before burying his face in his knees and just allowing his last bit of emotional control go as he began to really cry in earnest.

With arms wrapped around his pillow, Ted listened intently to the whole sordid tale, though Rou’s poetic birthdate description made him raise an eyebrow – he didn’t think Harry remembered exactly what night that had happened. Still, no time to dwell. Seemed like he and Rou had more in common than they’d first assumed.

“Greyback, huh? Right bastard that one…” Ted felt his canines sharpen, the way they always did when he was angry or disgusted. He rubbed at them with his tongue, soothing them back to their normal shape as Roland finished his story. Once they’d re-settled he glanced back. He sat up. Roland was crying.

“Hey…hey, buddy, c’mon. Rou. Don’t cry.” Desire to comfort drove him half off the bed, one leg still caught under the covers. For a moment, he looked down on his huddled friend, at a loss for what to do. Then Ted screwed up his face with determination. “That ‘old thing’ is not all you’ve got from him. From either of them. I’ll show you.”

Without waiting for an answer, he bounded off the bed and went for the dresser. As he dug into the top drawer he continued talking, drowning out the soft sobs with a constant litany of reassurance and guidance.

“You’ve got a picture of them, right? You must’ve at least seen one. Pull it up – in your mind, if you have to. Remember every detail about what they looked like.” Closing the drawer, he returned to Rou, clutching something wide and flat in one hand. He hopped onto Rou’s bed and sat cross-legged beside him, their shoulders pressed together. “Got it? Okay, now look at this.”

He turned the object over, revealing it to be a square hand-mirror in a plastic case. Ted, for somewhat obvious reasons, had quite a collection of mirrors. He held it up so that Rou could see his own reflection, moving it around until they could a decent look at the boy’s whole head.

“I bet you’ve got your dad’s eyes. And your mum’s…nose. Her ears. The shape of her jaw. Or maybe it’s your dad’s jaw. Or his shoulders. His arms, his feet.”

Ted wiggled his bare toes to highlight the last example, heedless of his own body’s noticeable changes. In preparation to sleep, he’d released most of the mental blocks he used to keep his appearance in check; without them, his metamorphmagic responded to his emotions. His hair served as the most obvious beacon, sky blue seeping up through his roots. By the time that color reached his tips the roots were going green.

“You see? All that, those parts that make up you – that’s what they left you. And you’ll always have that. You’re…consistent.”

Rou knew what Ted was trying to do in reminding him that he was the product of his parents' love and, as such, would carry certain features on his body that would be inherited from them. It was Ted's word choice of what Rou might have inherited, though, that caused the boy's sadness to be broken with full-on amusement, and Roland simply laughed, even as he wiped the tears from his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. Roland had a look at himself in the mirror and, ultimately, couldn't really tell what he'd inherited from his parents. Still, the sentiment was appreciated.

"I have a picture...of sorts," Roland said, a small smile upon his face now, "Grandpa Roland extracted the memory of my parents' death when I was three, specifically my actual witnessing of it...it was one of the first vivid memories I could recall from back then and it...took over everything in my memory. So he took it from my mind in order to help me...get better. He didn't want my old memories interfering with my training, I guess." Rou's tone turned bitter at that remark, knowing that his grandfather wasn't motivated, at least entirely, by love in extracting Roland's memory.

"He made sure to remind me of what happened, but only so that I wouldn't be so hopelessly confused on the subject," he continued, "So my memories of my parents are rather lacking, mate. Better for Grandpa because he doesn't want them interfering with my education or the training he puts me through. He says he'll let me have them back 'When I'm ready.' He's very...demanding in his expectations for me; I think it might be because he and dad didn't really get along..."

"Huh..." Ted quirked his head. Confusion, curiosity, and a vague sense of unease warred within him.

"You've really got a memory like that? That's...impressive. I didn't think people had memories that young." He took the mirror back and turned it on his own face, watching his hair shift through a few shades of green. "Kinda lucky, that. Nobody's messed with my head, but  don't remember my parents at all. 'Course when they died, I wasn't even a month old yet. Still."

Pouting with concentration, Ted stabilized his hair at a dark forest color that seemed almost black in the dim light. From there it faded to a pale ginger-brown, similar to the mousy color he slid into when he was exhausted. His cheeks grew a bit more shallow, the skin there growing a bit more pale, stretching with the illusion of scars. With a blink, his eyes went silver, then they flashed gold in the faint moonlight.

"Wasn't totally what I meant, though. So your dad and his dad didn't get on -- you've still got to have a picture or two around, right? Maybe an old portrait, a family album, something?"

The walls of Antarmada Cottage were covered in family photos, to say nothing of the albums. Ted had spent hours with them growing up, mixing and matching his parents' features into this and a dozen other combinations. Trying to do that with only the non-existent memory of their faces...he shivered a bit at the prospect.

"Grandpa doesn't have a lot of pictures of dad around," Rou said softly, "He said he never knew my mum, so there's absolutely nothing around of her. I think the only photos of dad that Grandpa keeps are in his study, or something, and I'm not allowed in there at all. I think he has the picture he took with dad to commemorate when my father was inducted as an Auror. I think, much like my memory of the night my parents died, he'll let me see that picture when I'm older. Grandpa's not much for...sentiment."

"'It would distract you', I bet he'd say, 'You have too much training to undergo. You must be the best there is, for you are a Dylanis'," Roland said softly, paraphrasing his grandfather. At this, Rou finished wiping his eyes and laid back in his bed, but not before giving Ted a hug as thanks. "Ted...when you said 'consistent'...what did you mean by that?"

Ted bristled with indignation on Rou's behalf. All this talk of family names and distractions -- Rou was twelve, for Merlin's sake! And not keeping any photos around...so what if they didn't get along? The man was his son. It sounded as bad to him as Harry's stories about the Dursleys.

He returned the hug, but went quiet as they separated, Rou's question stewing in his mind. He remained on Rou's bed, sitting cross-legged on the quilt, absently rubbing his bare feet. That word, 'consistent', had slipped from him on accident. It wasn't something he talked about much, because 'normal' people -- non-Metamorphs -- couldn't really understand. But Rou had done his share of soul-bearing tonight. It was only right that Ted do the same. He sighed, fumbling for a place to begin.

"You know, disguise spells...they're mostly illusions. A trick of the light. Even things that modify your body, like Polyjuice Potion or Transfiguration, are just altered states...variations on the real you.

"Metamorphmagic's not like that. There is no 'real' me. There are certain states that are more comfortable, appearances I'm used to using. And it takes less effort to look 'normal', for lack of a better word. But it's not like I've got something 'under' all...this." He gestured vaguely at his face, which had gone heart-shaped, and his hair, which had added a slight curl.  "This state of flux is who I am.

"So when I say you're consistent, what I mean is...you know. Or could know. If you had the pictures, if you had the memories, you could go through find all the little things you've inherited from your mum, your dad...grandpa, aunties, second-cousins, whatever. You could find those things and know that they came from your family.

"Me, I've got this." He gestured again, his features finally settling into something familiar -- Mum's smile and Dad's golden eyes, with a hint of Andromeda along the edges and just a smidgen of Harry in the dark green hair. Not that Roland could know any of that. "Don't get me wrong. I wouldn't give it up for the world. It's just not exactly the same."