A/N — I'm not great at writing children, but I'd say Teddy's age here is around 3/4 (I don't think it's actually canon that Victoire was born in 2000, just popular fanon).
His grandma rocked Victoire gently in her arms, smiling down at the fussing baby.
"Life's hard, ain't it, Vic," his uncle Ron said as he walked past, grinning down at the baby but hurrying out of the room.
"You don't want to hold your niece?" his grandma called, not lifting her eyes from the bundle in her arms. "I don't know why," she said to the baby. "You're lovely." As if to prove a point, Victoire let out a piercing shriek that had Teddy slapping his hands over his ears and glaring in her direction.
"Grandma, stop it," he whined, the orange of his hair gradually darkening.
"Now, none of that, Teddy," she said, finally looking up. But she wasn't looking at him the way Teddy wanted, wasn't giving him the attention he wanted; instead, she looked mildly disapproving. It was the look she gave him right before she asked him if he wanted to go into time-out — as if he was stupid enough to say yes — but really, Victoire should be the one in time-out. "Do you want to hold her?" she asked instead. Teddy would have preferred the time-out.
"No," he huffed, dropping his arms to fold across his chest. "Are we going home now?"
"Really? You don't normally want to leave Uncle Harry's so soon," she said, the baby still whimpering softly.
"It's loud," he said, glaring at Victoire accusingly. "I have to con — con'trate."
"You — What're you concentrating on, Teddy?" she asked, seeming amused.
"Work." Aunty Hermione did it all the time, and so did Mister Percy.
His grandma opened her mouth to reply, but Mister Bill chose that moment to walk into the room.
"Thanks, Mrs Tonks," he said, his hair sticking up in all directions and dark circles under his eyes. "I didn't think she'd ever quiet down."
"She's loud," Teddy agreed. "Does she need to go in time-out?"
"Uhm … no," Mister Bill said, "she's a bit young for time-out." Teddy wished he was too young for time-out. "Did you want to stay for tea?"
"No, thank you," Teddy said, picking up his colouring book and crayons. "I'm off to work." Mister Bill turned to Teddy's grandma. "Grandma has to work, too."
"We'd love to stay, thank you. If it's not too much trouble," she added, ignoring Teddy's affronted gasp.
"No, of course not. Mum'll be back soon, and she'd kill me if she knew I didn't even ask." His grandma set the now sleeping baby in her playpen.
"Why don't we go play outside, Teddy?" she asked. "We wouldn't want to wake the baby." That was one thing Teddy could agree on.
As he followed his grandma and Mister Bill out of the room, Teddy glared down at the sleeping baby through the mesh of the playpen wall, and hissed: "She's my Grandma, not yours."