"Let's go pay," Teddy mumbled and kissed the top of Victoire's head before putting the large Tinkerbell back on the wrong shelf. His wolf was probably somewhere in a trunk in Andromeda's attic. It had been through more magical surgeries than could be counted, mostly because whenever he got upset, he used to take it out on the stuffed animal.
Growing up without parents had been hard on Teddy. Sure he had his grandmother, and Harry, and all the Weasley clan but it wasn't the same. He never knew much about his parents until he had arrived in Hogwarts. Then he had been looked at like some sort of double headed sea monster by some people, and like some kind of legend by others because of his relationship with Harry. In fact, he hadn't known why people made such a fuss over Harry until halfway through his second year. To him, Harry had always just been Harry, not The Boy Who Lived.
There was no use dwelling on it though, what happened was in the past. He couldn't bring his parents back, and he couldn't do much other than magically fix the wolf he ripped apart constantly.