A/n: Written for QLFC finals Round 1.

Prompt: Your team chooses a character and you must write that character paired with someone. The pairing can be romantic, platonic or familial.

Our team chose: Nymphadora Lupin (nee Tonks), and my pairing is a familial relationship between: Tonks/Teddy (get them tissues ready). (And that rhymed whoop!)

Peach Shortcakes and Turquoise Hair

"You shouldn't have!"

She groaned loudly as another wave of contractions hit her hard, causing her to dig her nails into her mother's hand as she squeezed it tight.

"Don't be ridiculous, Nymphadora," her mother chided gently as she dabbed Dora's forehead with a wet cloth. "I'll need help with the delivery, and Remus asked me to tell him."

"Don't—call me that," she gasped as the convulsions ceased momentarily. "He's on an important mission. It's not his fault I went into labour early. Couldn't you have called one of the other women?"

"Stop asking for the impossible," the older witch snapped as she stood up and bustled about. "War is upon us, and we barely have enough hands to hold down the fort, let alone help deliver a baby. Besides, as the father, he would want to be here."

"I should be getting ready to fight, not lying here in my own mess," she argued, swiping her arm across her forehead to wipe away the sweat. "I am going to die from fighting, not from delivering a bloody baby!" she shouted as the next wave of spasms overcame her.

"Nobody's dying on my watch," her mother quipped as she went around to poke her head under the sheets and in-between Dora's legs. "You're almost there, Dora. Just a few more minutes—"

"That's a few minutes too long!" Dora screamed as she grabbed the railing at the top of her bed and squeezed till she could no longer feel her fingertips.

"You can do it, Dora, come on! Push!" her mother's muffled voice said as her muscles convulsed from the latest contraction.

"Bloody hell!" She spread her knees apart and dug her heels into the mattress, grabbing onto her thighs and pulling on them as she pushed. Her mother's encouragements and reassurances fell on deaf ears; the only things she could focus on were the pain and her need to get the baby out of her as fast as possible.

"Harder, Dora, you need to push harder!" her mother was saying.

"I am pushing harder, woman! Just get the bloody thing out of me already!"

After what seemed like an endless few hours of pain, exhaustion, and pushing her body to its limits, she felt the baby slip out of her. Collapsing back, her breathing haggard and her vision blurry, she focused on the sound of her child's shrill wailing and the immense relief that cascaded down on her.

She took several minutes to bring her breathing under control, and several moments more to push herself upright. She watched as her mother fussed over the infant, cleaning him up and wrapping him in a soft cloth. Her mother then walked up to Dora and placed the pink, wrinkly, whimpering baby boy in her arms. As she held him close, he quieted. Tears streamed down her cheeks as laughter bubbled from within her. She'd barely been with him for a few minutes and she already loved him so much.

"Hi, Teddy," she whispered, her voiced choked with emotion. "Hi, baby boy. Congratulations on being born!" Her son mewled, and she brushed a kiss against his head.

Her mother came to sit beside her on the bed, and they murmured quietly to the infant. When Dora told her mum that Teddy's nose resembled hers, tears spilled down the older witch's cheeks and she laughed quietly as she stroked Teddy's head. There was a faint pop moments later, and Dora perked up at the sound of the familiar voice, glad that the one other person she wanted to see had arrived.

"I'm here!" Remus announced as he burst into the room, and she laughed as her mother proceeded to stand before him and tell him off for being late.

"The point of calling you was so you could help," she chastised him, and he nodded fervently, eyes darting towards the bed as he peered over her mum's head to get a better look at his son. When he tried to walk around her, she only moved so she blocked his way.

"Mum, leave him be," Dora said when Remus shot her a helpless look. "Let him at least catch a glimpse of his son, then you can lecture him all you want."

Her mother huffed, but moved out of the way and left the room, allowing Remus to rush towards the bed.

"I'm so sorry," he said as he came around to where she was. "Hi." He pressed a kiss to her damp forehead. "How are you? How is he? Is he…" Remus trailed off, the worry shimmering in his eyes, and Dora shot him a reassuring smile.

"I'm fine. And so is Teddy." Her husband nodded, but didn't seem too relieved. "Remus, he's fine. I promise. You remember what Vector said about the genetics of lycanthropy, right? Right?" she asked when he only continued to look at his son with uncertain eyes.

"Right, of course, yeah." He nodded and shot her a small smile, but she could tell that he was still disconcerted.

"He's sleeping, now," she murmured as she showed her husband their child. "Why don't you try holding him?"

Remus settled down beside her and gently took Teddy from her, his smile turning more genuine as he held his son. "Hi, Teddy, it's your dad!" he said as he rummaged in his coat for a bit, and pulled out a terribly squashed shortcake. "Here's a little something for all your hard work!"

"I'm not eating that disgusting-looking thing," she said, leaning away when he brought it close to her.

"It's not for you," he replied as he dipped the edge of his little finger in the icing and held it near their son's mouth. "Happy birthday, Teddy!"

"Remus!" she exclaimed. "You can't give our newborn child peach shortcake! What's wrong with you?"

"I suppose you're going to have to eat it, then," he replied, eyes twinkling. She pursed her lips as he held the cake in front of her, finally taking a small, tentative bite.

She hummed at the sweet mixture of peach and candied ginger on her tongue, taking a bigger bite, and soon finishing it. Remus smiled. "You can never resist, can you?"

"Don't ever mention this to Mum," she whispered, stuffing the wrapper behind her as her mother bustled back into the room, a pail in one hand a towel in the other, looking just as exhausted as she felt. She placed the pail down and then hurried out, muttering about having forgotten something.

"I promise." He leaned forwards with a smile and kissed her. They watched their son quietly, each content, when Remus whispered, "He's so…little." He was holding Teddy so carefully, as though he didn't want to break him. "You know," he said as he sat back and moved closer to her so that she could rest her head on his shoulder, "I remember when Harry was born, and James was in a right state. I never imagined I'd ever be able to experience that sort of thing in my life."

"You give me too little credit," she huffed, nudging him in the side with her elbow. He laughed, and they sat together for a long while, watching their silently sleeping newborn child, till her mum re-entered the room.

Her mother then shooed Remus out of the room so she could clean up, leaving Dora to hold her son and continue to watch him quietly. There was a growing sense of wonder filling her up from within, and she wondered if this was what people meant when they spoke of love at first sight. She couldn't help but hope and pray that she would get to spend every day of her son's life watching him grow.

But as she thought of the war, she couldn't help as the first signs of fear settled within her at the prospect of having to leave him even for a moment more than necessary. She was just as determined to partake in the war as she had been a few hours ago, but now, all of a sudden, she wasn't so sure anymore. Although she had always wondered about what her fate would be, she had never imagined that just the existence of one, tiny baby could shake her resolution.

She shook off such negative thoughts as she noticed that a bit of the icing had got on Teddy's mouth and tried to brush it away, but his tiny, pink tongue jutted out for a moment, and the icing disappeared. He then scrunched his face up, and his tuft of hair turned a light ginger, as though in confirmation of how much he liked the taste of the cream.

She laughed and whispered, "Would you look at that. Just like your mummy, aren't you?"

-oOo-

"Happy birthday, Teddy!"

He cheered as his grandmother placed the birthday cake in front of him, complete with six candles and all, and he couldn't help but ask, "Peach shortcake?"

"With candied ginger and whipped cream. It's your favourite, isn't it?" she asked as she waved her wand, lighting the candles.

"Yup!"

"Alright, everybody ready?" Uncle Harry said as all the adults, and Victoire, gathered around him.

He inhaled deeply before puffing his cheeks and blowing, and all the candles went out. Everyone cheered and began to sing happy birthday to you as he proceeded to use the small, plastic knife to cut the cake. He then cast a quick glance towards his grandma before stuffing the whole piece into his mouth.

"Teddy!" she chided, but everyone else laughed as he swallowed the cake, a big grin on his face.

Someone grabbed the knife from his hand, and he turned to see Victoire cut a small slice of her own and eat it.

"Hey!" he exclaimed as he snatched the knife away from her.

"My birthday's coming soon, too, so it's fine," she said as she stuck her nose in the air. Her mother didn't seem to agree, because she grabbed Victoire by the arm and dragged her away, probably to give her an earful for eating Teddy's cake.

He picked up the cake and placed it on his lap, wrapping his arms around the plate. "No one else gets to eat my cake!"

"Teddy, it's not good manners to say that," his grandma said as she Levitated the cake away—he was a moment too late to react—and placed it on the table. "Sharing is caring, remember?"

He grumbled as he crossed his arms and sulked, and Uncle Harry came to sit beside him. "Well," he said, "even though you're going to have to share your cake, here's something that's all yours."

Uncle Harry handed him a present, and he gasped in delight. "Thank you! Can I open it?"

"You should ask your grandmother that," he said, casting a look towards where Teddy's grandma was cutting the cake and distributing it.

As though sensing he was up to no good, his grandma looked towards him and called, "Teddy, don't you want cake?"

"I want!" he yelled as he ran to the table, present momentarily forgotten, and she handed him a plate with the biggest piece of the lot. "Thank you!" he said as he took it.

She smiled. "Happy birthday, my love," she said as he perched on the chair and began to devour his cake.

Once everyone was done eating, they all handed him his presents, his grandma reminding him, again, that he could only open them once everyone was gone. He begrudgingly quelled his excitement as he arranged them in a pile on the table—the biggest ones at the bottom, and the smallest ones on top. The moment Uncle Harry, who was the last to leave, was gone, he ran to his presents and proceeded to rip them open.

"You forgot this one," his grandma said as she picked up Uncle Harry's present from where he'd forgotten it on the sofa and brought it over to him. He took it and tore apart the wrapping paper in his excitement. His uncle's gift was a black book with a little picture right in the middle.

"What is it?" his grandma asked as she sat down on the chair next to his.

He flipped the book open and saw that it was a photo album, with pictures of him and all the people he knew. As he carefully turned the pages, he eyed each picture, remembering some of the moments from when they were taken.

"How thoughtful," his grandma mused as she leaned over to examine the little notes Uncle Harry had written below each of the pictures. "I had a feeling it would be something like this when he came asking for photographs." As he reached the last page, she said, "Oh, look, Teddy, that's your grandfather! I'd almost forgotten we had that one."

He stared at the picture of his grandparents laughing together and shut the book, eyeing the small photograph in the middle. "And these are… Mum and Dad?" he gently placed his fingers against the plastic it was encased in, a sudden surge of emotion blooming from the pit of his stomach and spreading to his chest.

"That's right." His grandma pulled her chair closer as she said, "I took that picture right after you were born. You're so little, there."

"They—we look so happy," he murmured as he stared at his parents' laughing faces as they looked down at the small bundle in his mother's arms.

"Your mum was so thrilled when she found out she was going to have you. It took your dad a little longer to get over the shock, but they loved you so very much," she said, stroking his hair.

"Oh. I can't really tell because I don't remember them. Maybe if I was older…" he looked up and swallowed, his eyes burning with tears. "Grandma, am I bad because I can't remember them?" It was a question he'd asked her so many times before, but had never got a satisfying answer to.

"Oh, sweetheart," she said, pulling him close. She helped him onto her lap, and they flipped through the album again, and this time, she explained in detail when every one of the pictures was taken. "You know," she said when they reached the last photograph. "Your uncle Harry has an album just like this one. He got it in his first year at Hogwarts. Uncle Harry's told you about how he lost his parents, hasn't he?" When Teddy nodded, his grandma said, "Well, he treasures that album because it's got pictures of them in it, with and without him. It's a way for him to remember them by."

He turned the pages till he found a picture of him and Uncle Harry and asked, "Is that why he gave me this? So that I can remember them since they're… dead?"

He jumped off her lap, the surge of emotion overcoming him. "I already know that! I already know I never get to see them! I don't need some album to remind me!"

"Teddy," his grandma said gently as she reached out to him, "that's not why he gave you this album."

"Then why?" he demanded.

"He gave it to you so that it would help you learn more about them. So that you have something to remember them by."

She smiled, but it looked like she was in pain, and he decided to give up his moment of anger because he didn't want to hurt her. He knew she was always hurting on the inside, even if she didn't show it on the outside, and he never ever wanted to be the one to make her sad. Head hanging, he walked back over to her and climbed onto her lap. She held him close as she quietly flipped through the album till she found what she was looking for. She pointed at a picture of a girl with bright, turquoise hair blowing out the candles on a cake.

"Is it Mum's birthday?" he asked, his curiosity overpowering the sadness and anger within him. "How old is she? Is that Grandpa next to her?"

"It's her seventeenth birthday. She nearly destroyed the house in her excitement." His grandma laughed at the memory, and he found himself smiling. Although he had been upset before, and still was, to an extent, he realised that she was right—the album was a way for him to learn more about his parents and feel as close to them as he could, without them actually being there.

"You know," his grandma said, pulling him out of his thoughts. "Peach shortcake with candied ginger and whipped cream was your mum's favourite, too."

"Really?" he exclaimed, looking up at her wide-eyed.

"Oh, yes. I remember she insisted on baking you one right after you were born—she kept saying something about you liking it and some other nonsense—and it turned out to be less of a cake and more of a pudding, so she threw it away."

"But I do love it!" He raced over to where the last pieces of cake were left. "Look, Mum!" he said as he grabbed a piece and ran back. He held the cake up to the photograph of his mum laughing. "I love it! Just like you!"

He stuffed the cake into his mouth, humming in delight as he tried to swallow past the lump in his throat. "De'ifush!" he said around the mouthful of shortcake, and his grandma made a face as he sprayed crumbs all over.

"Teddy, remember when I told you your mum could change her hair colour, too?" she asked as she flipped to various pictures of his mum in the book. "Notice how her hair's different colours in each of these?"

He gasped, feeling his own hair change colour. "I knew it!" he exclaimed, jumping up and down. "Mum was just like me!"

When his grandma nodded, he ran to the closest cupboard with a glass door and peered at his reflection. Scrunching up his face, he focused really hard till his hair changed to match the colour in the picture of his mum's birthday. Grinning, he skipped back to his grandma to show off his accomplishment, and she laughed, the corners of her eyes crinkling.

"Would you look at that. Just like your mummy, aren't you?"

A/n: Yes, I know, I know. I was pretty darn sad when I wrote this, too. But I've always wanted to explore this relationship and now that I got a chance, I went for it. I like to think that his choosing turquoise as his colour was somehow related to Dora, so yup. And them loving the same dessert was just too cute and I simply couldn't not write that.

I would love to know what you thought, as always. Reviews are the Teddy to my Dora.

Thanks for reading!

Lots of love~

Arty xx