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Teddy Lupin sat on his bed, staring out the window with a sad expression on his face. His turquoise hair was duller then normal, his eyes holding back tears. No one had been able to talk to him, for the small boy wouldn't answer. All he would say, however, was,
"I want my parents."
But every one whom he spoke to, including him knew this was impossible, for they had been dead for over six years. So, they called for Harry, the boy's Godfather, instead. But Teddy didn't know this as he stared out his window, hoping to maybe see his parents whom he had rarely heard about. He wanted to see his mother and her vivid, bubble-gum pink hair, and her smile. He wanted to see his father, be impressed by his geniuses which he had been told of. But, alas, he had only been told these things, never had he experienced them. He knew both of his parents were dead, they had been murdered by someone every one told him, but still, no one would tell him any more then that. This, made the boy angry, and with all his heart he wished they would tell him more then just, "You're only six years old, Teddy. The story's too dramatic for someone such as you; we'll tell you when you're older."
Remembering their words made the boy's inside shout with fury, and he desperately wanted to get up, scream, throw a tantrum, and break something. But, he had been raised better then that by his grandparents, by his Godfather, and with much effort he forced himself to sit still on his bed.
"Teddy?" a voice called from the entrance of his room, and Teddy recognized it as his Godfather's voice, Harry's voice. "You alright?"
The boy did not move, and made no effort to show that he had heard Harry. Harry, having recognized this attitude from his wife Ginny when they were in a heated argument, understood immediately that something was wrong with the usual, optimistic Teddy and slowly approached the bed, and sat down on the edge of it, right by Teddy.
"What's going on?" he whispered, but Teddy refused to say a word, his face showing great dislike. "Teddy," Harry said, wishing the boy would just tell him, "You know you can trust me. I won't tell anyone."
This seemed to catch the boy's attention, and he stared right into his Godfather's eyes as he said,
"Not even Ginny?"
Harry shuffled uncomfortably. Teddy knew that his Godfather would want to tell Ginny, and possibly his best friends Ron and Hermione.
"Ok. I promise, I won't tell anyone," Harry said, and the boy smiled lightly as he turned back to look out the window.
"Promise to tell me everything you know?" he asked, and Harry frowned.
"You're still young, Teddy, only six years old. If this has anything to do with your parents, which I'm guessing it does, I don't think you should hear everything."
"Fine," snapped Teddy, and he said, "then tell me as much as you dare."
Again, Harry hesitated. There was a reason why Teddy didn't know what had happened. The name Voldemort had not been breathed to the boy even once since he could understand, and when he heard on a shopping trip the name, "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named", no one would dare tell him who this person was.
The next thing Harry knew, however, was that Teddy was crying, and, rather alarmed he pulled Teddy into a tight embrace.
"Why'd they have to die?" the small boy whimpered buried in Harry's arms. "What happened? Why do I not have parents?"
Harry sighed, and thought, though reluctantly, that is was high time Teddy knew the story.
"Teddy," he started, and he looked into the six year old's eyes, as he said, "Your parents, were great, heroic people, who helped save this world. You should be proud. This, you must never, ever forget. No matter what. You promise me that?" The small boy nodded, and Harry started the tale.
"Six years ago, this world was in major trouble. We had a bad enemy, who was almost impossible to kill. He had used dark magic to make himself almost immortal. He killed many, innocent people to do this, and he didn't care the least. He…that's how my parents died."
Harry paused for a second, and tightened his grip on Teddy before continuing.
"He wanted to kill me, Teddy, because a prophecy had been made about me, that said I would end up beating him. He did not want to be beaten, however, so he tried to kill me."
Harry shut his eyes, and his hand automatically reached his lighting bolt scar.
"Have you ever wondered how I got this scar?" he asked Teddy, showing the boy the scar, and he nodded. "It was because the bad guy gave it to me, while he was trying to kill me. But, he failed, and almost died. I, now an orphan, was taken to my aunt and uncle's house until I became eleven years old. Then, I went to Hogwarts' school."
"How'd he not manage to kill you?" Teddy asked, amazed.
"Because of my mother's love," Harry answered. "She gave her life for me, before she died. The bad guy never understood love, and therefore did not win."
"What was the bad guy's name?" Teddy asked curiously.
"Voldemort," Harry answered, and then quickly added, "Most people just call him "He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named", or "You-Know-Who."
"But why?" the boy asked. "Why not call him who he is?"
"Because they were afraid, Teddy, they were afraid. He had killed many, many people remember, so they feared saying his name out loud."
"Oh," Teddy said quietly. "But what does this have to do with my parents?"
"Well, let's just say…that Voldemort had followers, who did his bidding," Harry explained. "And, one night, they and Voldemort attacked the school. They killed many innocent life's that night…Including…Your parents."
"But, but why?" Teddy asked, confused. "They didn't do anything wrong."
"To the followers, also known as Death Eaters, they did," Harry answered. "They protected the school, they were on the opposite side, the good side, where I was, and where all of our friends were on."
"But, why'd they want to kill everyone?"
"They didn't care, Teddy, remember? Voldemort did it sometimes just for the fun of it."
The boy's eyes grew wide.
"They wanted to kill me that night too, wanted to beat me from beating Voldemort, so they killed as many people as they could to try and make me give in to Voldemort."
"Did you give in?" Teddy asked.
"Well, kind of. I mean, I thought I would have to die to save everyone, but, in the end, Voldemort was the one who ended up dying."
"After he killed my parents, though?"
"Yes, after his followers, the Death Eaters, killed your parents," Harry said softly. "Your parents were very brave to fight the Death Eaters like that, they could've just stayed home, but they didn't."
"But didn't they care about me?" Teddy asked, tears now spilling from his eyes. "If they cared, they wouldn't have left me."
"Oh, they cared alright," Harry answered. "You should've seen how excited your father was when he told me and my friends that you had been born. Practically glowing. They had to fight though, Teddy, and thanks to them they helped save the world, which, in doing so, saved you from a possible death."
"Really?" breathed Teddy.
"Really," Harry answered, smiling as he hugged Teddy. "They loved you Teddy. And they saved the world. They would've been the best parents you could've ever dreamed for."
And, for the first time, Teddy understood what had happened. And, this time, he had more of a reason to cry, and Harry let him cry, to let him get it all out now, so that, he wouldn't be a wreck when he grew. And after at least thirty minutes of this, Teddy fell asleep in Harry's arms, and, gently and quietly, Harry lay him down in bed, tucking him in. Slowly, he left the room, and looked down upon his godson smiling sadly. He was like Harry, parentless, but, at least he had his grandparents, his friends, and Harry. A silent tear fell form Harry's eye as he closed the door and headed downstairs, to Teddy's grandparents, his wife, and to Ron and Hermione.
"What was that all about? I heard crying," Ron said the moment he saw Harry enter the room, and Hermione shushed him. Ginny moved over the Harry, taking his hand, and Harry, knowing they'd want some kind of answer, answered,
"It was time he heard the truth."
And, with a quick nod, he walked out of the house, with Ginny's hand in his. That was all he planned to say.