Author's note: Thank you to LilDevy for giving me the challenge. If you have time, or are stuck for inspiration for a story, check out their forum- Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges. It's pretty cool!
So I was overcome by nostalgia writing this. Not sure how well everything translated but... I enjoyed writing it, even if it made me feel a bit sad... xD Thanks for reading!
I don't own Harry Potter.
Harry was leaned up against the counter top, a glass of something that looked suspiciously like firewhiskey in his hands , staring into the ember liquid like it was a looking glass into the depth of someone's soul, when Ginny walked in.
Frowning slightly to herself, she ran a hand through her hair, though it did nothing to soothe her pounding head. She hadn't bargained on meeting with her boyfriend in the kitchen, especially when Ron and Hermione weren't yet back from their meal out with him in Hogsmede.
Even so, she was pleased to see him.
"Sickle for your thoughts?" She asked, stepping into the light.
He jumped, very nearly sloshing the drink down his front, before his face broke into a smile. "Give me a galleon and I'll think about it."
Grinning, she leaned on the table opposite him, only inches between them. Mere days ago, that distance had been indefinable... hundreds, maybe even thousands of miles. Harry seemed to be thinking along the same lines. Despite the frown playing at his brow, his eyes were burning.
"Hmm." She whispered. "Sorry. I don't have that kind of money. Tell me anyway?"
He sighed deeply- the kind of sigh that communicated a thousand words.
"You're going to laugh at me."
"I would never laugh at you." Ginny informed him solemnly.
"Yeah, well." Harry sighed. "I was thinking about love stories."
Okay, Ginny reasoned, it was pretty hard not to laugh at that. Especially when Harry was so adorably embarrassed. He rushed on.
"I was thinking- well, my parents, really. About how they were 17, once. About how she hated him, and he fancied her, and there was all this rivalry and pointless angst between them, and what was the point, Gin? Really? They wasted several good years. And somehow, thinking about them as kids- it makes them more real than their self sacrificing, perfectionist, martyr selves." He frowned into his drink. "It seems so much sadder, because-"
"They had their entire lives ahead of them. A whole future, a whole load of potential." Ginny whispered, in part because Harry was apparently more tipsy than he realised and might not be able to get the words out (or worse, might be able to get the words out, and say something so completely cheesy he'd never be able to look her in the eyes again) and in part because she wanted to. She wanted to voice it. All of it.
She was sick of trying to look strong, trying to feel strong, trying to act like she didn't feel like everything inside of her was breaking.
It was the truth. She might as well say it.
"Yeah." Harry frowned, swallowing hard against another mouthful of drink. "And it's just- Teddy. Remus did everything right. Everything, Ginny. And Tonks- she was so alive. How can two people as remarkable, as indescribably alive as them, not be there to bring up their son?"
Suddenly, Ginny realised what this was about. "You're worried that it's going to be the same for Teddy as it was for you. Because you never knew your parents, and neither will he?"
Wordlessly, Harry nodded, swilling the rest of his drink absentmindedly. "It's not like Teddy's anything like me, really. He's got a doting grandmother, and by tomorrow, he'll have you and all your brothers and your mum and dad and Hermione and- everyone. Including me. But I can't help thinking-"
"Remus's doubt." Ginny finished the thought for him. "You're thinking about how he wouldn't be with Tonks, because of his condition, and the extra time they could have had it together?"
Harry laughed. "How do you-"
"I know you. And come on, you're not that hard to read! But Harry, that's the thing about people. They're blind, and they're stupid, and they're selfless idiots. Or selfish idiots, because lets be honest, there isn't really an in between. Your mum, from what I've gathered, needed that time for your dad to mature. Well, maybe Remus needed the time he took, too. To reconcile himself to the idea that he wasn't a monster, that he deserved a life too."
Harry sighed. "You're right, I know..."
"I usually am. Besides, you told me something similar, didn't you? That we could've had years? But we couldn't, Harry. Not really. People don't just spring up as they are, 17 years old, with their entire lives planned out in their minds eyes and all this potential and life. They have to work for it."
Harry looked at her, not knowing what to say. Ginny reached out and took the firewhiskey off him. "We'll figure this out, Harry. But you've had too much, and you're meeting Teddy for the first time in the morning."
Harry nodded, going quietly up the stairs. Ginny watched him go.
Suddenly, she had an overwhelming image of Tonks, her noses mid transition, her mouth in a wide smile. Of Remus, immortalised mid laugh as George held his book out of reach.
Of the night before the battle, when Tonks had picked her up off the sofa and put on a waltz from her Aunty Muriel's ancient collection. They had danced around the room, laughing and messing up dances, until Remus had cut in. Him and Tonks weren't exactly graceful, but their laughter rose so fluidly with the music that Ginny couldn't seem to rip her gaze away. And they were lost in each other, but it wasn't any place from which Ginny wanted to pull them back.
She thought of Remus teaching at the front of the classroom, lit with gravity and seriousness, but his eyes sparkling with the joy that teaching brought. She thought of the morning she had discovered Tonks asleep on her open textbook, her hair a sleepy shade of grey- a colour her hair would never grow to be.
She thought of her and Tonks sat side by side on the wall, overlooking the windswept ocean outside her Aunt's front door, Teddy held in Tonk's arms. Her friend had looked beautiful that day; her bubblegum hair a mess and the bags under her eyes speaking volumes as she beamed from ear to ear.
She thought of Remus taking her out to the back porch with Teddy, whispering stories of the stars to his newborn son. He had seen her gazing in wonderment, wondering where Harry could be, and reached out to squeeze her hand, breathing 'he's going to be alright, you know.'
Blinded by tears, Ginny dropped the glass she held, barely noticing as the ember coloured liquid spilled forwards onto the carpet.
Silent sobs shook her shoulders for quite some time after Harry had gone up to bed.
ℓℓℓ
"Morning." Harry beamed at her as she made her way down the stairs, rubbing her wrist across her forehead and yawning widely. "Or... Wait, is it afternoon?"
"Ha ha." She smiled, kissing him on the back of the head before reaching over his shoulder for a slice of toast. Ron, who had just entered the kitchen, mimed vomiting into a bowl of cereal. Hit by a wave of nostalgia, Ginny had a sudden image of Tonks doing something similar when greeted with the sight of her parents saying goodbye before Ted went into hiding.
"What time's Teddy arriving, anyway?" Ginny asked her mother, ignoring her brother. Surprisingly, it was Hermione who answered.
"Eleven. So, right about now, really."
"Great. I'll go get dressed."
Teddy, as it transpired, didn't show up until 11.30, by which time Harry was a nervous wreck and Ginny was seriously contemplating hitting him with a body bind curse, just to stop him pacing.
Shortly after, however, the doorbell rang. A look of pure panic broke out across Harry's face. Laughing, Ginny kissed him on the cheek on her way past.
"Harry Potter, the boy who lived, saviour of the wizarding world, bloke who defeated Voldypants and freed us of dreadful tyranny and dictatorship- afraid of a baby?"
If looks could kill, the look she was rewarded with would most likely have burnt holes right through her.
"Sorry we're late." Came a tired sounding voice. "He was asleep, I didn't want to wake him- I'd forgotten, but they sleep so rarely, and he's just like Nymphadora."
"It's not a problem." Came Mrs Weasley's reply. "Harry's just through here- we've all been dying to meet you, young sir." There came a childlike giggle in reply that seemed to send shivers up Harry's spine.
"Morning." Andromeda smiled as she entered the room, nodding at Ginny, with whom she had enjoyed a casual sort of acquaintance over the months of hiding. She looked unwell- dark circles under her eyes, her face pale and wan. Even so, she smiled as she looked down at the infant in her arms, his hair a dark shade of turquoise. "He's being a bit temperamental today. Would you like to hold him?"
The question was directed at Harry, but it was Ginny who answered, ignoring the frantic glance Harry shot her. "He'd love to."
"I don't-" Harry's eyes were on Teddy, a smile tugging at him lip, mellowing the panic in his eyes. "I don't really have much experience with babies."
Andromeda smiled, warmth evident in her eyes. "I think you'll find Ginny quite adapt."
Ginny laughed- her first real laugh in weeks. "Hold you arms like this- that's it, and relax. All there is to it."
And so Teddy Lupin was placed in his Godfather's arms. And the moment he was, he started to cry. But Harry couldn't have cared less.
Rocking his godson back and forth, he felt the warmth of the child seep through into his skin, the light blue eyes widening until he imagined they could see right through to his soul. Harry vowed, there and then, that Teddy would always know love, would always have someone to hold him and whisper goodnight, would always know how amazing he truly was.
And, suddenly, inexplicably, the crying stopped. Andromeda, who had been anxiously reaching out, felt a hand on her shoulder, and Molly Weasley's lips at her ear.
"I'd say he was doing fine on his own."
"Yes, I think I would."
"Tea?" Molly asked.
Andromeda sighed, tears in her eyes for the first time in weeks, though she had no idea why. "Tea." She sighed. "Would be lovely."
ℓℓℓ
Ginny watched as her mother sat in the rocking chair with Teddy held in arms bent perfectly as no mothering book could teach, fingers light as air caressing his cheek, a soft lullaby sung in a sweet (albeit out of tune) tone.
"Stop hogging him, mum." Ginny laughed. "Andromeda's starting to think you're not going to give him back."
A silent tear arched its way down Molly's cheek and splashed onto the sleeping child. Horrified, Ginny put an arm around her mother's shoulders. Remembering the look of wonderment and longing on her mother's face earlier that morning, Ginny felt understanding dawning out of the fog of thoughts.
"Does it remind you? Of us, I mean?" Ginny asked, her voice soft enough that she might have been talking in a church, a lock of hair falling into her face as she rested her head on her mother's shoulder.
Molly let out a strangled sob, the kind of grief that seems to roar like a clap of thunder into a silent abyss, then fall silent once again, because no noise- no matter how broken, can truly portray how shattered the heart of Molly Weasley really was.
"I want to go back. Back to the start, to do it all again. I want to stop time and make sure you never grow up. Sometimes I just feel like you're all strangers in my own home. Like I'm a stranger. A strange woman made strange by this strange pain."
"You're not strange, mum." Ginny whispered.
"He was so small, Ginny." Her mother whispered. "So, so small. Gideon, and Fabian, and now my little Freddie." Propping Teddy up with one arm, she reached up to squeeze Ginny's hand. "I held them for such a brief amount of time. Yet I loved them- you, all of you- so well. And you're all lost to me. Every single one."
"I'm right here, mum." Ginny breathed. "Right here."
Her mother didn't seem to hear her. "I haven't got any right to complain. I lost a son, two brothers. But so many people lost so much more... But Bill's married, and Charlie's in Romania, and Percy's at work, and Georgie's broken, and Ron's too in love to notice, and you've got Harry, And Freddie..." A sob roared again, quickly silenced. "It's indescribable. The pain of losing a child... Maybe one day you'll understand."
Ginny ran a hand through her mother's hair, silent tears falling thick and fast. "I love you, mum."
Her mother twisted around, holding out the sleeping baby. "I told him off too much. Freddie. He was always playing pranks, always laughing. And I was always telling him off. What if that's his only memory of me?"
"Mum- Look, I'm not the religion expert or anything. But I do know, wherever Fred is, he's not lost. He's happy. And whatever he remembers about his life, about all of us, it most certainly isn't the times you told him off. It's all the fun he had playing pranks, and how much he asked for every sharp word he got. He's probably doing that mad laugh of his, planning funny jokes to play on us when we see him again-" Ginny broke off with a desperate sort of gulp for air. "And we will. We'll see him again, mum. I promise. Not any day soon. But we will. He's not lost to us."
Molly Weasley gave a little gasp, and thrust Teddy into her daughters arms. "Take him. You're right... He's not mine. He's not Freddie. But... There's something pretty special about this one, too."
"Mum-"
But Molly Weasley had already turned away, the words of Remus Lupin ringing in her head.
As to what would happen to Ron and Ginny if you and Arthur died, what do you think we'd do, let them starve?
She promised herself there and then. Teddy Lupin would not starve. Not for love or attention, family or home cooking- all seemed to go hand in hand around here.
