Teddy's eyes blazed as the by walked out. That was all he was, some puny, ugly little kid. He didn't care who his daddy was, Teddy was going to crush him like an ant. "Fuck that," he growled, advancing on the boy, his wand gripped tightly in his hands. "In my world, you're make believe. So lets see which story's magic is stronger." He narrowed his eyes, squaring up to the boy. He was nearly a foot taller than him, or so it seemed, and at least a foot wider. If it came down to a physical fight, Teddy would win hands down, but this wasn't going to be that easy, he could tell. He'd have to be smart - not easy when you were this angry. But Teddy was a good wizard, despite being lazy sometimes. He'd done well at school and he'd spend his childhood with Harry and George. He most definitely wasn't defenceless.
"You messed with the wrong girl this time," he barked. He knew the boy's magic would be different from his own, as he had no wand that Teddy could see, but one of them had to make the first move. As quickly as he could, reaching out for every fibre of himself that was magic - the metamorphmagus, the werewolf, the wizard - he pointed his wand at the counter behind the boy. Even as he thought the spell, reducto, the counter exploding sending debris flying everywhere, mostly towards the boy, Teddy was pleased to notice. Still, he knew he wouldn't have time to gloat. He tensed, waiting for the Devil boy to make his move.