Teddy Lupin's hair was blue when Harry met him. It was blue often- when he was sleeping, a soft sky blue; when he was eating, a vibrant turquoise; when he was crying, a sharp teal. Harry asked Andromeda about it once, and she had laughed gaily.
"His mother did the same thing when she was a baby," she told him. "The first six months of her life she was purple. We were afraid, for a while, that she was going to be stuck that way."
He wasn't only blue though. He was soft brown eyes and delicate pink fingertips and tiny brown freckles.
"Who're the freckles from?" Harry asked one time. He sat with Teddy in the back yard, the little boy propped against his chest and dreaming happily. "I don't think the Blacks are very inclined to them."
"They're not." Andromeda looked over from where she was kneeling amongst her rows of dahlias. "I expect they're from Remus." Then she added, sharper, "And he isn't a Black- he's a Tonks."
Harry waited before Andromeda turned back to her gardening to murmur against Teddy's head. "No…you're a Lupin."
Teddy's blue hair wasn't the only thing about his godson that fascinated him though. Harry, who had never had the opportunity to spend any amount of time with a baby, was enraptured with him. He was so small. His fingers, even at three months old, barely fit around Harry's thumb. His hand was no bigger than one of Harry's glass lenses, and he fit just perfectly in the crook of Harry's arm.
"Isn't he supposed to be bigger than this?" Harry held Teddy up to the mirror above the mantle place. He screeched in wild excitement and made dodging grabs at his reflection. "He hasn't grown much."
Andromeda smiled lightly. "He's just a small child, Harry. His mother was never very big either. He's not ill- he eats like a horse and he sleeps well. He'll grow in time, if he's inclined to." She went out of the room, humming, and Teddy placed his hands against the glass and giggled. Harry thought that, perhaps, he wouldn't mind it so much if he stayed like this forever.
Andromeda was right. Teddy was a healthy baby. He was never colicky, barely fussy, had the appetite of a Shetland pony, and slept through the night at four months old. He cut his first tooth at five and a half months and was crawling by seven. Harry watched in amazement as Teddy scooted across the parlor floor, his hands slapping enthusiastically on the ground, burbling quietly to himself. Harry knelt in front of the settee, ready to move if Teddy needed some help; Andromeda watched proudly from her perch in her armchair.
"He's a fast learner, isn't he?" She bragged. "But of course, her mother was too. Dora crawled at just a little after seven months- she took her first step at eleven!" She laughed. "Harry, you'd better prepare yourself for him!"
Harry grinned at her, and Teddy ran his head into the wall and wailed.
Teddy was standing at nine months. Harry Flooed over the day after Christmas, his arms laden with gifts for his godson, and was shocked at the sight of Teddy, standing wobbily at Andromeda's side, his fingers digging into her leg for dear life, his eyes wide and his smile huge. He screamed in excitement when he saw his godfather.
"When did he start that?" Harry asked. He placed the stack of presents beneath the tree and went to kneel in front of Teddy, who transferred his hold from Andromeda's leg to Harry's hands immediately.
"Yesterday," Andromeda said proudly. "I thought of Floo calling to tell you, but I thought perhaps you would have liked the surprise." Then, to Harry's surprise, she knelt and enveloped them both – Teddy and Harry alike- in a warm hug. "Happy Christmas, Harry," she said kindly, and Harry found himself fighting against the ridiculous urge to cry. He wrapped Teddy up against himself and grinned at Andromeda. "Happy Christmas."
Teddy came with Harry to the Burrow to ring in the New Year. He didn't make it through the night, knocking out in Molly's arms at about eight thirty, but no one seemed to mind. He was set to sleep on the settee – with pillows stacked around him for safety's sake- and the party moved on around him, albeit a little quieter. Noone seemed to mind. More than once, Harry looked over to see someone, whether it be a Weasley or a guest, sitting beside the sleeping boy, stroking back his hair and or touching his back tenderly. It wasn't hard to see the affection they all held for him, for the memories of the people he embodied, and more than once, when conversation lapsed, someone would start them all back up with, "Hey, remember the time that Remus…"
Harry himself spent several minutes at Teddy's side, checking to make sure that he was sleeping comfortably, that he was drooling all over Molly's furniture and that his blanket was still tucked up around his chin. Molly accosted him once while he was doing it, pushing a mug of warm Butterbeer into his hands and smiling softly. "He's fine, Harry. Enjoy yourself." She winked at him. "Trust me- no child is going neglected under my roof!" She laughed and Harry laughed with her.
"I know. It's just…"
Molly nodded. "I understand. I'm only teasing you, dear." She patted his cheek, hesitantly, and suddenly, there were tears in her eyes. "I'm just not quite sure when you all grew up, is all."
Harry smiled and kissed her cheek. "I expect I'll be saying the same thing of him in a couple of years."
"I expect you already are now," Molly rebutted, and Harry nodded slowly. Sometimes he felt as if time were slipping away- it seemed so long ago now that Remus had burst through the door at Shell Cottage, exuberant with the news that he had a son. He turned back to Teddy and found Ginny at the little boy's side, grinning.
"Look at his hair, Harry- I've never seen it like that!"
Harry never had, either. Far from it's usual attention grabbing blue, his hair had changed, while he slept, to a downy, sandy brown. His freckles stood out in stark prominence against his pale nose, and Harry could just imagine husky green eyes flitting about beneath his godson's eye lids.
"It's almost as if he's not morphed at all." Ginny bent to twirl a strand of hair around her finger. She glanced up at Harry. "Who do you suppose he gets this look from?"
Harry grinned. "Can't you tell?" He asked happily. "That's his father, for sure."
