Alright, so last one. I enjoyed writing this 'cause I got to delve into Teddy and I hope you enjoyed reading it. Was there anything I handled poorly, was unclear about, or governed by cliches? Tell me, I want to know.

Love and butterbeer,
-Freddie

The Stigma's Sorting

Teddy sized up the pair of boys menacingly strutting down the aisle towards him. Unsurprisingly, he recognized the boy in front as one of the students who'd been Sorted into Slytherin. …What was his name again?

"I know you," said the boy smoothly, as he came upon Teddy, drawing closer than necessary so that Teddy had to crane his neck to look up at him. "Harry Potter got you after the War, didn't he?"

The boy had thick, wavy brown hair, squinting blue eyes, and distractingly long eyelashes. His robes were new, again unsurprisingly, and he wore a weighty, silver ring on his middle finger. Everything about the look screamed pureblood. Teddy scooted backwards in his seat to give his eye line more room and swallowed. Harry had warned him that this might happen—he'd just expected it to take a little longer than an hour.

"Yeah, Harry got me," said Teddy slowly, still trying to place a name with the face. "Legally at least. In practice it's a bit more muddled."

"He spends half his time with…his…grandmother…" said a classmate, Shirley, trailing off when she received a condescending smirk from the second boy. This one was much taller; had short, black hair, buzzed close to his head; a darkly tanned complexion; and abnormally large hands.

"I'm Gene Talton," said the first boy with the wavy locks. "Slytherin. This is Garret Cameron from Ravenclaw."

"Third year," clarified Garret. "So you know."

"Sterling and Nathaniel," said Nat, glaring at the boys from across the table and gesturing to his best friend. "Sixth years…so you know."

Garret looked the two over as though seeing them for the first time and some of the hostility in his expression lessened. Gene, on the other hand, shrugged Nathaniel's comment off.

"Pleased to meet you," he said, not sounding very pleased at all. "So Teddy—that's what you go by, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

"Teddy, I was wondering—and this question has bugged me for years, so I need to know—what's it like to be around this many people?"

"Ex-excuse me?" said Teddy, confused. He didn't know where this was going, he didn't like it, and he was aware that he was giving Gene the responses he wanted, playing right into his hands. None of which was brightening his mood.

Gene smiled. (Really not brightening Teddy's mood.)

"What's it like to be around this many people?" Gene said again. "You know…with the werewolf senses and all."

Ah.

So that's where it was going.

"It must be overpowering, yeah?" Gene continued. "Or even painful? All the sensitive wolf senses of smell and the wolf senses of hearing must be miserable in all this." His smile brightened as though something had just occurred to him and Teddy's gut churned more at the sight. "And then again, I guess the tasting senses would be hyperactive too. Got any weird, wolf-like tastes? I've heard they like meat raw and such—do you have the desire for that kind of food?" If he hadn't been clear enough in his implications, Gene glanced around at Teddy's housemates with a pitying expression.

Immediately, there was a fluttering gasp from Teddy's left and he glanced over to see that Milo, as well as all the other students in his year, were regarding Teddy with expressions in various degrees of…was that really fear? Teddy's heart sank. So much for trying to play the stigma back down. He'd let it go too far when he arrived, become too grand, too impressive, too untouchable, and they were only too willing to turn on a celebrity instead of a friend. Teddy cursed himself—that was all he had to blame after all.

Now they would be terrified of the kid who may have had an interesting childhood but at the cost of being a monster. He glanced over at the sixth years and was even more disappointed to see that Nat and Sterling had backed off a little, if not with fear then definitely to see how Teddy would handle this himself.

The young Metamorphmagus squared his shoulders and redirected his attention to Gene, whose smirk displayed that he'd cheerfully picked up on this betrayal as well. Teddy wouldn't deny it; to do so would be to deny his own father and that was never an option. In any case, it was true. The ever-present smells of people and filth and food and—all were things he struggled to repress on a daily basis. And that was nothing compared to the constant conversations and rustles and stamps and calls he heard…

He looked up as Gene leaned forwards to him.

"Because I'm right, aren't I?" said Gene in a low voice so only Teddy could hear him. "Your father being a half-breed that makes you a little mini-basket-case monster, doesn't it?"

That did it.

If he'd had any reservations before, they melted away with the word "half-breed" and incinerated on the word "monster." Whatever he was, it wasn't something to be ashamed of. Everyone who'd ever loved him growing up had never failed to make that clear.

He was proud of his parents.

He was his father's son.

And…he was also his mother's…

Ignoring whatever the others might think of this risky move, Teddy looked Gene steadily in the eyes, and grinned devilishly. This obviously wasn't the reaction Gene had been expecting for he backed up and crooked his eyebrow. But Teddy merely sat up straighter and, with the calmest of smiles on his face, bared his teeth and Metamorphed.

His nails grew longer, sharper, and darker; his shoulders filled out; teeth filed into points; nose and mouth protruded into a snout; black irises dominated his eyes; and thick, brown hair sprouted along his arms and hands. He was still humanoid—but as werewolf-like as a human could possibly be.

There were loud gasps, one hushed shriek, and Nat choked out an obscenity or two in surprise; but it was worth it to see Gene's smirk change to complete horror.

"Yeah…no," said Teddy calmly, examining his nails with feigned curiosity. "My father being a werewolf does not, as you said, make me prefer raw meat, but it does give me a couple extra abilities. Namely that I can run faster than everyone my age I've ever met and I do have the rare Hyper-Acute Senses Disorder—which is helpful when I want to know that your heartbeat has sped up considerably in the past two seconds, and that you suddenly smell like epinephrine and cortosol—trust me, they're called that, I've looked it up. Basically, you smell like fear, if you're not too brushed up on your biology."

He looked up from his nails and noted with supreme satisfaction that Gene's backup, Garrett, had bolted; and was just rounding the Hufflepuff table on his way back to his own House. Teddy smiled again and continued.

"So to answer your question yes; yes it is overpowering at times to be what I am, but at others…quite enjoyable."

Gene, whose face had steadily and swiftly drained of color during Teddy's monologue, raised a shaking finger.

"H-how are you…?"

"Doing this?" Teddy asked. He ran his tongue over a sharpened tooth, enjoying the effect it had on Gene. "Quite simple actually. Whenever people go into my family's conditions, they never give my mother enough credit. She was a Metamorphmagus." At Gene's still-terrified, clueless expression, Teddy clarified. "It means she could change her appearance at will. Runs in the blood. …Anything else you wanted to know?"

"You're-you're…" he said, lifting an accusing finger again.

"Fascinating!"

"Brilliant!"

"…Insane!" Gene finished, though Teddy hardly heard him for his surprise over the interjections from behind. "You're all insane. They shouldn't have let you in, you're a complete monster!"

"How so?" said Nat, for it was he who had put in the first word. "He's proved he's harmless. Just a kid who can do things that you can't."

"Kickass superpowers that you can't, more like," said Sterling, leaning across the table to jovially punch Teddy in the shoulder. "I need to get me some Metamorphmagus, can't tell you how much that would help on dates. 'Could just grow…"

"Firsties, mate, they're firsties," Nathaniel interrupted.

"Do none of you get it?" Gene said, cutting across the sixth years as he wildly looked about at the other eleven-year-olds. "Do you not see that he could kill you!? Children shouldn't be able to do that—it makes him an abomination!" And with those words, he spun on his heel and struck off for the Slytherin table again, leaving Teddy to drown in the wake of his words.

Teddy slow-burned around to see his classmates. Nathaniel and Sterling, two sixteen year olds, were one thing to not be afraid. Fellow elevensies were another.

Wide eyes met him, furtive glances being exchanged amongst the group.

So that was it then. They were afraid. He'd let his temper get the best of him, over-reacted, and scared them all further with the Metamorph trick. There went any chance of friendship for the next seven years…

"He is just like us," said a small voice. The entire table diverted their eyes to a boy at the very end of the table. He'd been the final student to get Sorted—York, Ripkin York, that was the last name Teddy'd heard—and so there was hardly any room for him on the edge of the bench. He had a hunched posture, thin lips, and tossed, dark hair that nearly obscured his eyes.

Ripkin hunched further when he found himself the center of attention but he managed to say:

"Whatever his parents were, he's still normal, right? It only matters that you're a wizard. …At least, that's what the woman who explained to us said—I mean, not that I—or my family is—though I guess I am a—I suppose I wouldn't know much really since I…" But this proved to be too much for Ripkin and he turned his enflamed face away.

With Hermione's words ringing in his ears and going off his own hunch, Teddy pulled away from the table, and plopped down at Ripkin's side, retracting the hair on his arms and reverting his facial structure to normal as he sat, perching half a leg on the miniscule space of bench left at the table. The two lines of eyes followed him all the way down.

"You're a Muggleborn, aren't you?" He asked the other boy bluntly.

Ripkin nodded, glum. "…She said it didn't matter, just so long as I was a wizard…" he muttered.

"It doesn't," Teddy said shrugging. "Actually…'shouldn't' might be a better word. Like it 'shouldn't' matter that my father was bitten by a wolf when he was eight years old and effectively kicked out of society. Then again, it also shouldn't matter that godfather was "The Chosen One"…or whatever it was."

"What does that mean?" Ripkin asked, looking up, his eyes eager. "I heard people talking about him on the train this morning, but nobody would give me a straight answer about how all that started …?"

"It's a long story," Teddy said. "And it's also way sadder than people give it credit for." Out of the corner of his eye, Teddy saw Milo turn to Shirley and start talking again. A few others followed suit, diverting their attention from his private conversation with Ripkin. Nathaniel served himself another piece of pie, apparently to have something to do and Sterling's eyes were starting to droop with apparent exhaustion.

"Mm," said Ripkin, frowning. "I can't say I'd like to hear a sad story tonight."

"And I can't tell you how much I agree with you," Teddy replied. "What about you? You have a happy story then?"

Ripkin shrugged.

"I don't know," he said. "I've got nothing cool. I heard what you were saying before—stories about growing up with a family full of magic…"

"It's not as cool when you have it around 24/7," Teddy replied truthfully. "Everything's much more interesting with Muggles. They invent the strangest things to get along without magic—vending machines…merry-go-rounds…escalators…"

Ripkin's eyes lit up.

"My older sister got her leg stuck in an escalator once!"

"Aw gross, that had to hurt!"

Ripkin chuckled

"Yeah I know, there was so much blood…!"

And so it was that Teddy Lupin, the famous son a werewolf and a Metamorphmagus on his mother's side, raised by The Chosen One Himself, a stigma of the highest degree; made friends with Ripkin York, a boy whose father, Teddy learned, lived in America and kept him for five, glorious weeks in the summer, a boy who had a raging obsession with anime (something Teddy would soon discover, via Mr. York, and also religiously adore,) and three older siblings, none of whom could do magic and were all out of their minds with jealousy.

Ripkin would become an ace and Teddy's tutor in Charms and Transfiguration and an avid fan of Quidditch, if he was terrified of heights; and Teddy would help him in Runes and Potions in return and agree to stay on the ground and play Exploding Snap when all his cousins insisted on flying practice.

As time went on, they would sneak down to the kitchens together at night and steal each other's girlfriends every now and then and go home with each other for holidays and, later in their career, make it a competition to kick Mrs. Norris on every possible occasion and blame it on underclassmen. And though they kept in touch with Nathaniel and Sterling, their mentors and older-brothers-in-practice after they graduated, nothing could ever separate or come close to the friendship of the Muggleborn and the Stigma.