AN: This story was started very long ago. That being said, it does not strictly follow some of the canon laid down by Our Queen Rowling in recent months, and isn't that the beauty of fanfiction? I've been toying with the idea of writing a Teddy Lupin series for many years (since The Deathly Hallows was released, to be exact) and for some reason it's taken me this long to get it out. I think that with the announcement today of the upcoming novel publication of 'Harry Potter and the Cursed Child' it is the perfect time to strike back up with the HPFever. That being said, enjoy! I hope to see reviews and input from all of you!

Chapter One: Happy Birthday, Harry Potter

The sky was still and blue above his head. Teddy Lupin lay as motionless as he could on the soft grass of the Potter's back garden. Shards of grass pricked at the back of his neck and arms; his knees were still stinging from the tumble he'd taken earlier. It was hot, with no breeze to speak of. In the sky, the clouds hung motionless in their appointed spots. It was as Teddy had expected it would be today: another hot July day, another afternoon that languished on with nothing to do.

He'd been at the Potters since Wednesday, three days ago now, and he'd yet to see hide nor hair of his godfather. He had some dim recollection of being woken gently several nights ago, of a familiar hand resting on the top of his head, a shadowy voice whispering to sleep tight. He couldn't be sure if it had been a dream or not.

"He's awfully busy at work," Aunt Ginny had said to him when he'd asked. "They're having a rough time of it at the moment- I'm afraid he hasn't been able to take much time off." She herself was looking a little more ragged than Teddy was used to seeing her. He supposed having a husband that hardly made it home and four children to take care of did that to a person.

"He'll be home for his party though, won't he?" Teddy had asked anxiously, and Aunt Ginny offered him a tired, soft smile over the top of baby Lily's head.

"He knows better than to miss it," she assured him, and Teddy cupped his hands over his stomach to calm the thin tendril of worry twisting in there. He'd gotten Uncle Harry a present- nothing big, but it was nice, and he was already worried enough about giving it to him without having to worry about whether or not he'd be there at all.

That had been two days ago. Now it was Friday afternoon, and Uncle Harry's party was set for tomorrow at two o'clock, and while everyone in the family was going frantic to arrange it, Harry had yet to make an appearance.

Somewhere behind him, the back door to the Potter's creaked open and footsteps padded their way down the stone lined garden path. A minute later, Aunt Ginny's head appeared over his, her shadow casting a long dark smudge over him.

"It's about time for dinner, Ted," she said. Her red hair was caught up in a messy bun that rested at the nape of her neck; her eyes were lined with soft brown kohl, smudged beneath her lashes. She smiled. "I thought perhaps you'd be willing to set the table for me. Jamie's trying at the moment and I'm afraid it's not going so well."

Teddy scrambled to his feet, wincing a little as his knees pressed into the grass. "Have you heard from Uncle Harry?" He asked, and Aunt Ginny's smile thinned a bit.

"No, but Hermione did fire-call about an hour ago, and Ron's been home finally, so I'd assume that Harry's not far behind." She reached over, wiped at something on Teddy's cheek with her thumb. "You're filthy. What have you been up to out here, all day? Aren't you hot?"

"I'm fine." Teddy ducked out from under her hand and started for the house, where he could hear plates clattering through the open window. "I hope you haven't given Jamie any of the knives to set," he called over his shoulder, and Ginny responded with a roll of her eyes.

"What kind of mother do you think I am, Edward Lupin?"

Teddy didn't have much experience with mothers, outside of Ginny, his grandmothers and assorted sort-of aunts, and he wasn't much sure that any of them counted. He opened the door and went inside, where he found Jamie tottering atop a chair, steadily setting the kitchen table with all sorts of mismatched table ware: brown pewter plates, rose painted china bowls, a selection of plastic sippy cups and ceramic mugs. Under the table, three year old Albus was banging several spoons against the floor. Both boys cheered when Teddy stepped in.

"Teddy!" Jamie crowed. "Teddy, it's dinner time!" Anytime that involved food was Jamie's favorite time of the day. Teddy smiled, and knelt to take the spoons from Albus, who grinned wildly at him.

"Teddy," he said, "Play drums?"

"Not right now." Teddy scooped him up, plopped him down on a chair. There was something sticky clinging to his chin and cheeks. "You're a mess. You can't eat looking like this."

"Drums," Albus repeated determinedly. He reached for the spoons in Teddy's hands. "Drums, Teddy!"

Ginny had come in behind them and was at the stove, lazily whirling her wand over the sauce pan bubbling on the range. Teddy hoped vaguely that it was curry. "You boys need to get washed up," she said absently. "Ted, make sure Al changes his shirt, won't you? And check in on Lily for me, please?"

It took him a few minutes, but Teddy got the boys rounded together upstairs, where they made a mess of the bathroom fighting over first the soap, then the faucet handles. It took so long that Teddy forwent changing Albus' shirt and sent the boys back downstairs while he ducked into Ginny and Harry's room to check on Lily, who was sleeping soundly in the middle of their big bed, her thumb stuck in her mouth and her soft red curls rising like gentle wing tips over her ears. When he was satisfied that she was asleep and safe, he washed quickly, throwing towels down over the puddles that Jamie and Al had left, and hurried downstairs for supper.

It was curry, as Teddy had hoped it was, and although it was one of Ginny's best meals, the dinner hour was considerably dampened by Harry's lack of appearance. Even Ginny seemed to droop as the sun set and the hours drew on; after dinner, she did the dishes quietly while Teddy played Gobstones with the boys in the living room, coming in only to tell them to get ready for bed. "What's wrong with your knee, Ted?" She asked then, and Teddy glanced down, where his knees were still red beneath his shorts.

"I fell from my broom," he told her sheepishly. "I forgot to tell you."

"Do they hurt much?" Albus was clinging to her leg, his hands pawing at her sweater. She bent to pick him up. "Shower and then I'll look at them, Ted."

Teddy showered, being careful to wash the cuts in his knees carefully, and then took a few minutes to arrange his hair in the bathroom mirror. When he was content with it – bright blue and sticking up over his forehead in shocks- he went up to his attic bedroom, passing by the boys' room, where Albus and James were already fast asleep, the two of them nestled side by side in James's bed, Al's blankets and pillows scattered over the floor.

He'd had Harry's present tucked under his pillow for the last three days, where he knew James wouldn't get at it and where he could feel it pressing into his ear when he slept. He took it out now, ran his thumb delicately over the corded lip of it. He wasn't sure if Harry would like it or not- but it was all he could think of, and besides, Harry had never not liked any of his presents before.

So engrossed was he in his own musings that he didn't hear anyone approaching until the door creaked open. Teddy looked up in surprise and shouted. "You're home!"

Uncle Harry stood sheepishly in the doorway, a tired smile framing his face. He was still dressed in his Auror robes, and his hair lay flat against his head, as if it were too tired to do its usual wild dance atop his head. He rapped on the doorframe. "Permission to enter, Captain?"

Teddy stuffed the present hastily back under his pillow and scrambled across his bed, his feet thumping the ground. "Permission granted," he all but shouted, and Harry winced, raising a finger to his lips as he entered.

"Are you trying to wake the whole house, Ted?" He asked with a smile, and folded him into a tight hug. "Have you grown again? You know what I said about that."

Teddy hugged him back, then pushed away. "Do you have to go back to work?" He asked, and Harry's face tightened, but only for the barest of seconds.

"Not for several days," he answered. "According to Kingsley, I've been severely overworked. I've been given orders to not set foot in the office until Wednesday morning, or risk the wrath of the Minister himself."

"And Aunt Ginny," Teddy added. Uncle Harry chuckled, ruffled his hair.

"And Aunt Ginny," he echoed. He sat on the edge of the bed and patted the blanket beside him. "Ginny tells me you fell from your broom?"

"I wasn't high," Teddy defended quickly. He sat beside his godfather and swung his legs up, brandishing his scraped knees. "It hardly hurts."

Harry studied them quickly, tapped them with his wand. Teddy watched as the skin paled to a slight pink and the stinging in them eased. Harry smiled at him. "Better?"

Behind his glasses, Harry's green eyes were lined with gray shadows. He looked, Teddy thought, more tired than he had seen him since Lily was born, eight months ago. "Aunt Ginny made curry," he said, and Harry nodded.

"I know," He said. "I thought I'd have some after I said good night to you."

"Aunt Ginny says you've been busy at work."

"She's right." Uncle Harry removed his glasses, rubbed at one eye, then the other, with the tip of his fingers. "Word of advice, Ted: don't bother growing up. It isn't worth it."

Harry was going to be twenty eight years old tomorrow; Hogwarts was looming just around the corner, only a month away. All Teddy could think of was growing up. His fingers tightened on the edge of his quilt. "You're still going to take me to Diagon Alley, aren't you?" He asked anxiously. Harry sighed.

"Of course I am," he said. "I wouldn't miss it for the world, Teddy." He was quiet a minute. "I am sorry, Ted, that I haven't been here this week. You know I look forward to your visits, don't you?"

He'd never doubt his godfather, Teddy thought. "I know." He straightened. "It's okay," he told him. "I know you've been busy."

Harry smiled wryly. "What did I just say about growing up?" He sighed and slipped his glasses back on, ran a hand through his hair. "I think it's about time for lights out. Your aunt has kept supper waiting on me long enough."

She'd kept dinner waiting last night too, and Wednesday evening as well, Teddy thought, but he didn't say that. He scuttled backwards on the bed and slithered under the blankets, laying back on his pillow. Uncle Harry's present dug into the back of his head. "You'll be here for breakfast?" He asked, and Uncle Harry smiled, bent to press a kiss to the top of his head.

"Of course," he said. "Good night, Teddy."

He turned the light off, and in the sudden drowsing darkness, Teddy heard his godfather's retreating steps, nearly silent on the attic floor, and his soft breathing. Teddy snaked his hand under his pillow, curled his finger's around the present. "Good night, Uncle Harry," he called softly after him, and Harry slid the attic door shut with a creak.

xxxx

Harry was indeed there for breakfast the next morning, swamped with his children: Lily drooling into his shirt collar and Albus perched on one knee. James had drawn his chair so close to his father's that their elbows bumped when they moved. Harry grinned at Teddy when he stumbled into the kitchen. "You hungry?" He asked, then added sarcastically: "I've got a free knee, if you want a seat." Teddy shook his head and sat across from him. Aunt Ginny was bent over the open oven door, dressed casually in a pair of cut off jean shorts and her old Holyhead Harpies practice jersey.

"We've got to eat quickly," she told them. "There's a lot to be done today." She waved her wand, and a platter of pancakes floated over to the table. Albus shouted happily and banged his fork against the lip of the table.

"P'ncakes!" He yelled. "Daddy, p'ncakes."

"Al, please." Uncle Harry reached around his son for his cup of coffee. "Gin, is there any cream?"

A pitcher of cream dashed out of the refrigerator and plopped down next to the pancakes. Uncle Harry offered his wife a grateful smile; she returned it as she took the seat next to Teddy, her wand tucked into her bun. "Eat up," she said cheerily. "Jamie, take your hands from your mouth, please."

The pancakes were loaded with strawberries and there was bacon and oatmeal besides. The meal was animated compared to the previous night's sullen supper: Al and James clamored for their father's attention the entire time, which Harry happily gave, in between sips of coffee and snippets of conversation with his wife and godson. He didn't seem to get much breakfast eaten at all, but Teddy got the distinct impression that he didn't seem to mind.

Aunt Ginny was right when she said that there was a lot to be done. They'd hardly finished eating when the Floo in the parlor came to life and Nana Weasley came spilling out, followed by a slew of cousins and uncles and aunts. The house was alive immediately, loud with birthday greetings and screaming children and doors opening and closing. The dogs, who had been sleeping so quietly in the pantry, were suddenly barking and jumping. Aunt Ginny, greeting her father with a hug, called over her shoulder: "Teddy- get them in the shed! Now!"

Teddy slipped off his chair and went after the dogs. He found the shepherd, Alecto, in the parlor, sniffing at the ashy remains of used Floo powder, and Bronte, the bull dog, licking at Uncle Ron's heels in the foyer. Ron mussed his hair as Teddy struggled to drag the slobbering dog away. "Heya, Teddy," he said. Teddy grinned back.

By some stroke of luck, he managed to manhandle both dogs outside and into their pen at the back of the garden, next to the broom shed. When he emerged, it was to find that Uncle Harry and Grandad were already outside, lazily levitating tables from the barn to the center of the garden. Uncle Harry whistled at him. "Nice pajamas, Ted," he said. Ted looked down and blushed. "Why don't you go get dressed and see what you can do to help Ginny?" He suggested, and Teddy nodded and darted by, stopping only to throw a greeting out towards Arthur.

When Teddy came back downstairs from getting dressed, Harry's present tucked into the back pocket of his jeans, more people had arrived. Bill Weasley could be glimpsed through the hallway windows, stringing hanging lanterns from tree top to tree top and Teddy could hear the unmistakable high wail of Fleur in the kitchen. In the playroom, Albus and James had been joined by Rosie Weasley, her red hair a bright bush of color as she commanded the others in her game.

"Hullo, Teddy."

Teddy started. Victoire, fair haired and tall, was standing patiently behind him, dressed primly in a soft blue sundress and white lace flats. Her sister, eight year old Dominique, who was more Weasley than Delacour, unlike her brother and sister, was behind her, pulling at the ribbon on her yellow dress. Teddy regarded the two girls warily.

"Hullo."

"Is that what you're wearing to the party?" Victoire asked with a sniff. Teddy scowled.

"So?"

"So it's a party. It's Uncle Harry's party, and Maman says there's going to be dozens of important people here, so you've got to look presentable."

Teddy thought that his jean shorts and Harpies jersey was just fine. "I am."

Victoire rolled her eyes. "The Harpies aren't even Uncle Harry's favorite team," she pointed out. Teddy bristled.

"Shut up-"

"Teddy." Aunt Ginny was in the doorway, a towel slung over one shoulder and Lily drooling on the other. She frowned at him. "Come on. I could use your help in here."

Teddy didn't move. "I don't want to cook," he said, and Ginny sighed.

"As if I would put you in charge of that," she said. "Come on, Ted. There's a lot to be done."

Teddy was put in charge of squeezing lemons for lemonade and carrying buckets of bottled soda outside to the tables under the trees. He was sweating just a few minutes into it. "Can't you just magic it?" He asked, and Aunt Ginny, who was threading shish-ka-bobs with one hand and feeding Lily with the other, offered him an exasperated look.

"With what hand, Ted?" She asked, and Teddy opened his mouth to reply, but at that moment the Floor roared to life and Charlie Weasley spilled out, Molly Weasley clinging to one leg and Lucy Weasley on the other, Percy and Audrey following, their arms loaded with packages. Teddy took advantage of the sudden commotion to snag a bottled butterbeer and slip outside, where the men were arranging chairs around the table and Bill was sharing a cigar with Uncle Harry, who was laughing. Teddy stopped at his elbow.

"Charlie's here," he said. Bill winked at him.

"See any dragons?" He asked, and Teddy shook his head, popped the cap off of his butterbeer. Victoire and Dominique were at the dog pen, sticking their fingers through the wire fence to pet the animals. The hem of Dominque's dress was splattered with mud.

As the morning wore on, more family arrived. George Weasley arrived a little before noon with his wife and children, and Lee Jordan and his family. Before long, the stream of visitors became friends rather than family, and by two o'clock, both the back garden and the house were packed. Men gathered in clumps, drinking beer from pewter mugs, while the women sipped wine from stemmed glasses and children tumbled over the lawn. The air was heady with the scent of grilled meats and vegetables; the tables under the trees at the edge of the yard were loaded with platters and bowls. One table, a very small one, stood by itself under the birch copse. It was covered with a red table cloth – red and gold for Gryffindor, Teddy guessed- and on it rested a few wrapped presents and a basket overflowing with cards. Teddy stood close by and studied the presents, wrapped ornately in gilt edged paper and tied with sparkling ribbons and felt the tip of Harry's present dig into his thigh.

"What do you think's in them?"

Teddy jumped at the sudden intrusion. Uncle Harry smirked at him. He looked much more rested than he had last night and he had a scent of tobacco about him. Teddy sniffed. "You've been smoking."

Harry shrugged and stuck his hands in his pockets. "Its tradition, you know, to give a man a cigar on his birthday."

"I didn't get one for my birthday."

Harry laughed. "You're eleven years old, Ted. You've got time." He nudged Teddy's shoulder. "So, what do you think? Any good?"

Teddy glanced over his shoulder, at the spread of guests across the lawn. Uncle Ron had the broom shed open and was passing toy brooms around to the little cousins. There was a trickle of adults heading towards the back field, the children nipping on their heels. Harry chuckled. "Neville and I had a bet," he told Teddy, "On how long it would take Ron to start a match."

"Who won?" Teddy asked, and Uncle Harry answered:

"Not me." He mussed Teddy's hair. "You want to join?"

They spent a good part of the afternoon out above the field, whizzing happily through the air above the younger children, who hovered near the ground on their toy brooms. Teddy, who'd been gifted a real broom for his eleventh birthday, was happy to skim the air above their heads, his sneakers inches away from their heads. Above him, the adults had a real game going: Uncle George and Lee Jordan were menaces as they pelted across the sky, and Harry was, at the best of times, a blur as he shot across the field, weaving in and out among the other fliers. For a few minutes, Aunt Ginny kicked off her heels and joined her husband and brothers in the air, outstripping them all on her old Nimbus 2500, eliciting cheers from both the party goers on the ground and in the air. Teddy kicked his heels lazily together and watched as she and Harry raced from one end of the field to the other, bent low over their handles, Ginny's hair a billowing cape of red behind her. When they pulled up at the end of the field, both breathless and beaming, Harry hooked an arm around his wife's neck and kissed her hard on the cheek. Everyone laughed.

It wasn't until the sun had begun to set that the riders straggled in from the field, their brooms hitched over their shoulders and their clothes rumpled and wind torn. Grandad was setting each lantern aflame with the flick of his wand; before the rose bushes, staged against the house, toddlers and babies lay sleeping on blankets. It wasn't until Teddy spotted Nana Weasley, sitting in a rocking chair with baby Louis drowsing in her arms, did Teddy realize that one guest had yet to arrive. He threw his broom into the shed, ignoring Ron's admonition to be careful with it, and tore across the lawn to the house.

The kitchen was empty but a disaster: pans were stacked in the sink and flour and other debris was scattered over the flagged stone floor. Beyond the hallway, the parlor lights were on dimly. There were coats and blankets and bags heaped over every available inch of furniture, but the hearth was cold, the Floo powder scattered over it grey and dusty. Teddy stuck his head in it, his heart a heavy patter in his chest, then left in search of his godfather.

He found him outside in a cluster of men at the edge of the garden. Teddy counted heads as he approached: Neville Longbottom, Uncle Ron and George, Seamus Finnegan and several other Aurors. In the midst of them, Kingsley Shacklebolt was smoking a cigar and talking in a hushed voice. The conversation lacked the vitality of earlier chats; Teddy heard the Minister say, quietly, "-the woods of Belarus-" before someone noticed him standing there and cleared his throat. All eyes turned to Teddy, Harry, smoking yet another cigar, coughed and asked, "All right, Teddy?"

Teddy was unsteady with all the eyes on him. "Could I- could I talk to you?" He asked Harry, and Harry nodded to the others as he stepped out of the circle. He put his hand on Teddy's shoulder and drew him away from the cluster of men, which had closed again just as quickly. His face looked, Teddy thought, flat and serious in the dying sunlight.

"What's wrong?" He asked, before he could stop himself, and Harry cocked an eye brow at him.

"You're the one who came to get me," he pointed out. He put his cigar out with the tip of his wand and stuck it into his breast pocket. "What's the matter, Ted?"

Teddy looked around wildly- one more time, just in case- and said, "Grams never came. I just noticed." Harry stiffened suddenly, his fingers tight on Teddy's shoulder. Teddy's heart pounded theatrically in his chest. "What? What is it? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," Harry said, "Except that I have a terrible memory." He sighed. "I'm sorry, Ted. Your grandmother Floo called this morning to say that she wouldn't be able to make it. I'm afraid she's feeling poorly. I meant to tell you when you woke up this morning, but with all of this hullabaloo, I forgot." He leaned down, so his eyes were in line with Teddy's. "I am sorry. I didn't mean for you to worry."

Teddy didn't say anything for a long moment. His heart was still a rapid patter in his chest, and now there was the terrible, rising sensation that he was going to puke to suddenly contend with. "Maybe I should go home," he said at last, "If she's sick. To make sure she's okay."

"She's fine," Uncle Harry assured him. "She told me she'd gone to St. Mungo's yesterday and it's nothing more than a summer cold. She's got Nancy Wainwright staying with her."

Grams shouldn't need someone to stay with her, Teddy thought angrily. That's my job. "I want to go home," he told Uncle Harry, who sighed.

"She asked me if I would keep you here specifically, Ted," he said. "For a few days, until she's better. She doesn't want you catching anything, with school so close in coming."

Teddy felt his stomach curdle. "I won't catch anything," he said desperately, and Harry smiled softly.

"I don't think you going home right now is a good idea," he said, "But I'll be around tomorrow. We can visit then."

"I shouldn't have to visit my own home," Teddy snapped indignantly. He was a little surprised at how rude it came out. Apparently so was Uncle Harry, because his eyebrows arched up into his hair line.

"I agree with you, one hundred percent," he said. "Believe me, the last thing I'd like to do is keep you from where you want to be, but I really do think we should honor your grandmother's wishes on this matter, Ted."

Teddy felt suddenly awful. "I do want to be here, Uncle Harry," he said. He ashamed that there was a tremor in his voice. "I just – I'm worried about her."

Uncle Harry regarded him gently. "I know you are," he said, "But I can assure you, she's fine. We'll see her tomorrow all right? Bring her some leftover birthday cake. Okay?"

"Okay." Teddy nodded. Harry smiled at him and reached over to pat his cheek.

"Atta boy, Ted," he said. He straightened. "Speaking of cake, I think it's about that time." Teddy followed his gaze to the copse of birch trees across the yard, where Aunt Ginny was lighting the candles atop a fabulous tiered cake with her wand. She caught sight of Harry across the yard and waved him over impatiently. Harry laughed. "I suppose we ought to get over there."

He started across the yard and Teddy followed close behind him. The guests were pressing in thick and tight around the little table with the cake, but they parted for Harry to come through and then for Teddy. When they reached the table, they were joined by Hermione, Rosie in her arms, and she led the whole party in a rousing chorus of "Happy Birthday," complete with clinking glasses and bawdy shouts from the Weasley brothers, who had had, Teddy thought, perhaps more to drink than they should have. The song gave way to cheers, and Harry tried to blow out the candles rather unsuccessfully. In the end, he extinguished the flames with the help of his wand and Jamie, and Nana Weasley and Hermione set about cutting and offering plates to everyone. There was ice cream too, seven different kinds, and lemonade and cookies. Then everyone settled down in the grass and the chairs to watch the Filibusters display, set off by George and Charlie in the lower field.

Teddy found a spot to sit, nestled in between Albus and Lily on a blanket by the rosebushes. Lily was fast asleep, her bare feet twitching in the evening breeze. Ginny stopped by to drop a hearing charm on her before hurrying off to find a spot with her husband and Jamie, who was perched atop Harry's shoulders, his fingers threaded through his father's thick black hair. Teddy remembered what it had been like to sit like that, long ago, on the top of the world.

The fireworks were spectacular, but Teddy found that by the end of it, he was exhausted. The grass beneath his back was soft and springy; the cool night air a welcome reprieve from the heat of the last few days. Albus was asleep on his arm already, and Teddy, so full of cake and lemonade that he thought he might burst, felt himself sinking into a drowsy stupor even as the last burning orange spark faded from the sky and the guests began to rouse themselves, to stretch and call out thank-you's and good-night's.

When he woke again it was completely dark. Overhead, the moon was a sliver of silver thumbnail amongst a soft pelt of stars. The yard was dim, lit only by the lanterns strung in the trees and squares of light thrown from the windows of the house. Teddy wasn't surprised to find that most of the guests were gone; all that remained were the family and Neville and Shacklebolt. The adults were sitting nearby on lawn chairs. Teddy was one person in a heap of sleeping children. He lay still and listened.

"We've tracked them to Belarus," Ron was saying in a low voice. He was smoking again, the tip of his cigar luminescent against his pale face. He had one arm around Hermione, who was nursing Hugo. "But they're outside of our jurisdiction, and the Wizengamot doesn't seem too keen on pushing for an international warrant."

"I suppose they don't see him as a threat," Bill drawled slowly. "They think they're too far away to do any damage to us here, and they want you to just let sleeping dogs lie, don't they?"

Ron snorted. "If only we were dealing with dogs here, I might be inclined to agree with them."

"For all you know, they may be right," Ginny put in. She was resting comfortably against Harry, her heels discarded in the grass beneath her chair and her bare feet curled underneath her. "What have they got here? They've no leader, no organization. With the Death Eaters all but disbanded, they've got no avenue of support. What can they hope to get out of us here?"

"I wish I knew," Harry said tightly. "And I wish I knew why now. I still can't get it out of my head, that house-"

Beside him, Lily began to wail. Teddy, on instinct, scurried to hush her. The adults turned towards the sound; Ginny got gracefully up from her seat and crossed the lawn to crouch beside Teddy. "I've got her, Ted," she said gently. She took Lily from Teddy's arm, pressing her against her chest. "She's probably cold. I think it's time we moved inside."

Teddy didn't want to. He knew it was wrong, because Uncle Harry and Ron's jobs were confidential and dangerous and not actually meant for his ears, but Harry had been gone for days and his grandmother was sick and he couldn't shake the feeling that something awful was happening, something his eyes and ears were closed to. "I'd like to stay out here," he told Aunt Ginny, and Uncle Harry, who had gotten up too, said firmly:

"I think it's time for bed, Teddy. It's late."

Teddy sighed but got up. Around him, children were being roused, lifted into their father's arms and carried inside. Aunt Ginny took Lily in and Uncle Harry had both of his sons in each arm. He nodded for Teddy to follow him in and he did, hurrying to hold the door open for him.

Upstairs, Teddy brushed his teeth and washed his face. He was surprised to see that it was well after eleven. He was getting changed when he realized that his present for Uncle Harry was still in his back pocket. He carried it to his room, where Bronte was stretched out over his bed. He pushed the bull dog aside and clambered in. It was only a few minutes before Uncle Harry rapped on the door.

"You all right up here?" He asked, sticking his head in. Teddy could still hear people talking downstairs, cabinets opening and closing. He assumed that they meant for the party to continue on for some time.

"Teddy?" Uncle Harry asked, and Teddy started.

"Is there trouble at work?" He asked, and Harry stepped into the room, his face stony.

"You heard us talking, then?"

"Just for a minute." Teddy looked down at his hands, at the present cupped there. "I didn't mean to."

"You never do." There was a slight edge in Harry's voice, and Teddy flushed. He kept his head down as Harry drew up alongside the bed. "It's nothing for you to worry about. You know what my job entails. Leave it to me to fret about it, all right?"

He wouldn't, but he didn't say that. Instead, Teddy held out the present, sweating in his hand. "I forgot to give this to you earlier," he said softly, and Harry took it gently as he sat on the edge of the bed. He offered Teddy a grin.

"I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about me," he said lightly, and Teddy grinned back.

"Never." He held his breath as Harry's finger's worked at the newspaper Teddy had wrapped it in. "I'm not so good at wrapping."

"It's a great job, Teddy." The last of the paper fell away and Teddy breathed explosively. Harry studied the silver pocket watch, cupping it delicately in the palm of his hand. Teddy felt dizzy.

"I know you've already got one," he said softly, "But I thought-"

He wasn't sure what he had thought, to be honest. He'd spent most of the summer worrying about what to give Harry today, especially after Harry's more than generous gift of Teddy's Firebolt last April. He didn't think that he could ever out-do that present, and not that he wanted to, but he'd like to think that Harry had something special, from him. He found his voice again.

"I know you've already got one," he said again. Uncle Harry turned the watch over in his hand, studied the back of it. Teddy knew the scene by heart: a wolf, lurking beneath a canopy of trees, a stream burbling over rocks at his feet. "But I thought maybe you'd like to have one from me," he finished, and Harry looked over at him, his eyes serious.

"It's wonderful, Teddy," he said gently. "I love it."

Teddy grinned. Bolstered a little, he blurted out: "It was my grandfather's. He's got dozens of them. Grams said I could pick one to give to you, when I asked her. I hope its okay that it's not brand new."

"I rather prefer when presents are passed on, rather than bought," Uncle Harry assured him, and Teddy went on:

"I thought the wolf was perfect because – well, you know, because of my dad." He leaned over and ran a finger over the raised imprint of the wolf, his sleek haunches and pointed nose. "Grams says you thought a lot of him."

"I thought the world of your father, Teddy." Uncle Harry reached around Teddy and drew him in for a quick hug. His eyes were shining. "And you, for that matter. And this present. It's the best I've gotten all day, I think."

Teddy endured the hug for a second longer, then pulled away. "I put something inside of it," he said. Harry cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Hopefully not something that bites," he joked, and Teddy rolled his eyes.

"Just open it, Uncle Harry." He waited while Harry slipped the clasp open. Inside, the silver hands ticked smoothly over the ivory face of the clock; on the other side, pressed into the lid, the picture that Teddy had cut out of his memory book smiled up at them. Harry studied it for a moment, a smile twisting his lips.

"Do you remember this day, Teddy?"

"Of course I do." Harry had taken Teddy to the zoo that day – the Muggle zoo, in London. Teddy had been four. They'd had a great time looking at the animals and the exhibits. They'd fed the ostriches and Teddy had been able to pet a giraffe. They'd had ice cream at a stand in the middle of the Safari, where a passerby had offered to take their picture. In it, Harry looked decidedly different than he did normally- he was wearing regular blue jeans and a t-shirt and jacket and smiling at the camera with Teddy in his arms. Teddy had chocolate ice cream smeared over his face and wisps of blue hair peeked out from underneath his ball cap. The picture, taken with Uncle Harry's Muggle Kodak, didn't move, but sometimes, Harry had said, something didn't have to be magical to be special.

"Thank you for this, Teddy." Harry shut the watch and held it in his hands a moment longer. Then he stood and slipped it into the pocket of his jeans. He smiled down at Teddy. "Perhaps it's time to retire my old watch."

"Grandad gave that to you, though."

"I know. But I always sort of thought that I'd like to save it- to be able to pass it down to someone else." He bent suddenly and planted a kiss on the top of Teddy's head. "You need to sleep, Ted. It's late."

Teddy turned and crawled underneath the blanket. At the end of his bed, Bronte grunted in his sleep. "We are going to see Grams tomorrow, right?"

"I did promise, didn't I?" Harry waved his wand and the lamp clicked off. Yellow light fell in through the open door; downstairs, Uncle Charlie was laughing. Harry offered him a wry smile, one that Teddy could just make out in the wan moonlight. "I'll get him quiet enough so you can sleep, don't worry."

"I'm not worried." Already the room was foggy and slow. Teddy yawned and rolled over, buried his face in his pillow. "Goodnight, Uncle Harry."

"Good night, Teddy."

The door clicked shut. Harry's footsteps retreated down the attic stairs, the wood creaking. Teddy dug his toes into Bronte's side and murmured, though no one could hear him: "Happy Birthday, Uncle Harry."