Moon Child [Fred Weasley]

11

The mirror in Teddy's dorm room offered a sad reflection of the events within. He stood before it then, white button-up tucked cleanly into his black trousers, matching vest slipped on with slow deliberate movements as if he feared it would tear.

The dress robes had been his father's as well as the vest, and though Remus had never gotten the chance to wear them to a ball, the vest had been put to good use as his father always had a taste for the marvel at it all. Teddy smiled somberly as he remembered the story in which he'd been told about the one and only time Remus had gone to Black Manner. He'd worn the vest then simply to fluster Sirius in front of his parents and make a fool of his friend.

The Yule Ball had called for straight black and white from the boys at Hogwarts but Teddy knew he had no one to dress for and calmly smoothed the wrinkles of the vest of which now borne an air of withered gray from its years of use.

He had no date to go with. He simply hadn't the time to put the energy into asking someone. Paired with his half-manic state that night in the library and his hours reading and tuning out the outside world, he was sure he had indirectly turned down Marceline Ackley in such a way that consisted of him being entirely absent of a means to properly respond. That was-- that he hadn't heard a word she had said.

His fingers stilled as he shrugged on the dress robes and fixed them over his shoulders. He contemplated finding her and apologizing but if the glare he had gotten in the hall last week from her was any indication, his presence would not be welcome.

And so, he resolved to go, at least for a few hours. But that calm reluctance he thought he'd always go with was gone. Instead, his heart beat steadily in such a way that he could feel its thump beneath his chest. The air felt cold even though the castle's walls were warm, and Teddy realized then that, foolishly, he was expecting something.

He was waiting on Fred Weasley.

Teddy turned away from the mirror and sat on the edge of his bed to put on his shoes.

He wasn't daft. He'd been witness a many times to Fred's easygoing flirtation; a second nature to him as a course of conversation. But dancing alone in a common room? A slow waltz to forget the troubles of the day? Gifts and smiles against a persona who always seemed to be keen on ignoring a generalized reciprocation?

Teddy knew his personality was entirely off-putting when he wasn't entirely conscious of his words or actions and yet the Weasley boy kept returning, even after their obligatory partnership for the transfiguration project had passed.

This constant return of the said redhead, however, allowed Teddy to study him and come to the conclusion that he could not be the one to ask him to dance. Fred must do it alone or he would scurry off with an awkward scratch at the head and a mumbled excuse of having somewhere to be.

Teddy came back into focus when he found the act of tying his shoes had finished and he realized, stupidly, that he was smiling.

"Damnit, Weasley." He muttered again, a common phrase he found himself muttering aloud to himself. But this time, for an entirely different reason. He stood quickly before he could talk himself out of it and left his dorm room with a flourish, glad he was the last of his dorm mates to leave.

Walking quickly through the halls gave Teddy enough to do so he was more focused on not crashing into anything instead of letting his thoughts run wild. He didn't even know why he was going in the first place. From the moment it had first been revealed that there would be a ball, Teddy had vowed he would go home for Christmas and spend it with his father and Sirius instead of staying just for the sake of dressing nice and drinking fake champagne.

He walked toward the space where amiable chatter was emanating from. The Great Hall had been done up brilliantly. White adorned every surface imaginable, glittering snowflakes hung suspended in the air and a grand Christmas tree stood proud at the end of the hall, snow clinging to its branches as if its life depended on it.