I Love You, Kid

A sedate sun slowly ascended into the sleepy world, a being hardly able to shine so bright as to expose the slumbering animals nestled in their makeshift housing. Ribbons of pink and gold filtered through thin curtains veiling the icy windows that had the audacity to allow the terribly chilled air entry into what should have been a place of sheer warmth. The colors danced about, shimmering like heavenly stars as they waltzed with brilliant particles of dust floating about. Tendrils of light gently caressed closed eyelids with the familiarity of a lover's touch, stroking the sleeping barrier that was shut with such sweet grace one might have actually believed your faux dormancy.

Alas, there was something there in the air, a palpable force barely coming into contact with your outstretched fingers, which led you to believe there was something special about the day. Special; it was a word you've heard your entire life. So far, though, that was not a very long time. Still, you often wished you were given a galleon for every time someone mentioned it. Because apparently, the word applied to you. Your Grandma Andy always told you how special you were, as did Harry and Ginny. And Ron, Hermione, George, Grandma and Grandpa Weasley, so on and so forth. It made you sick.

Really, what was so special about you? You were just a little boy who could change the color of his hair. A little boy with no mommy or daddy. A little boy who had lost so much and yet gained quite a lot. Being "special", whatever that means, had absolutely nothing to do with it.

But there was something there, hiding in the deep emerald depths of your godfather's eyes, that made you believe you were special, if only for a moment.

It was one of your first clear memories, a pristine image you would forever hold dear to your heart alongside fuzzy fantasies of a woman with bright pink hair and a man with a kind smile. You were young, just shy of five years old. The day was young and terribly bleak. Overhead, the sky glimmered a dull gray that threatened to spill otherworldly tears on the heads of the unsuspecting people that happened to be out and about. You sat with your face pressed against the hard glass window, gazing forlornly at the dark scene on the other side of the wall. Little children ran through the rain, splashing in puddles that, to them, were great lakes begging for a brave explorer to cross the tides.

Of course, they had no idea of the boy who was a whole plethora of color silently observing them from the house with the peculiar older woman who liked to play with drumsticks. They were not aware of the longing evident in his eyes, currently a boring brown quite suitable to his mood. They did not know how much he wished to be splashing along beside them; he even wanted to be scolded by overprotective parents worrying that he would catch cold from frolicking in the rain. No, these children hardly knew he, that is you, existed. And why should they?

"Teddy?"

You pulled your eyes away from the window long enough to acknowledge your grandmother. There was that worry you wanted, etched onto her pretty face filled with graceful aging. The only problem was she wasn't her, that woman who plagued your dreams with bright colorful hair, loving eyes, and sweet tender kisses as she tucked you in at night. Your young heart clenched uncomfortably. Where was she when you needed her most?

"Teddy, darling, are you alright?" Andromeda asked again, as you clearly paid no attention the first time.

"Grandma, why can't I go outside?" you whined, your eyes once again finding what was left of the laughing children.

She stood alongside you, casting aside the curtains with a knowing smile on her face. "You would get sick if you went out now."

"But all of those kids are out!" Your indignant cry was punctuated by a tiny finger thrust in the direction of your favorite window.

"Ah yes, but do you see there parents pulling them back inside? I'm sure a hot bath is waiting for them."

You gazed at the floor, suddenly overcome with misery as you trailed the toe of your shoe on the clean carpet. "Grandma?"

"Hmm?"

"Why don't I have parents to worry over me when I'm out in the rain?"

Andromeda was quick to hide the pained expression that had been plastered on her face for months after the war. "Well, my dear, your mummy and daddy were brave people that were...that were taken away far too early."

You stared at her, puzzled. "But if they were taken away, can't they come back? Why won't they come back? Don't they love me?"

She was spared having to answer by the fireplace suddenly roaring green. Harry Potter stepped out, shaking the soot out of his unruly hair while wiping his feet on the conveniently placed carpet.

"Harry!" You ran at the older man, throwing yourself into his open arms.

"Hiya Teddy," he answered. You felt him smile as he kissed the top of your head before putting you back on your feet. Blinded by the happiness of the arrival of your favorite godfather (though he always reminded you he was your only godfather), you missed the concerned look he pointed at your grandmother, who shook her head and dabbed at her eye with a silk handkerchief.

"What've you been up to, Ted?" Harry asked, seating himself on the sofa.

"I was watching the Muggles play outside." Your smile quickly turned to a frown as your previous thoughts caught up to you. "Harry, why don't I have a mommy and daddy?"

Harry glanced at Andromeda, realizing this was what had unsettled her. They seemed to be communicating with their eyes and it frustrated you.

"Why won't anyone tell me!"

Harry sighed and gathered you in his arms, seating you on his knee. "Teddy, your parents were great people."

With a scowl, you nearly shouted, "I've heard that before but no one tells me why they're not here."

A crease appeared on that formerly smooth expanse of forehead. For a moment, you regretted losing your temper. But you knew if you held firm, you would get your answers.

"Have I ever told you how I got this scar?" Harry asked, indicating the odd lightning bolt on his face.

Curiosity piqued, you informed him he had not but you did not understand what that had to do with anything.

Harry chuckled. "Trust me, it does. You see, there was a terribly bad wizard by the name of Voldemort that nearly cost me my life, on multiple occasions. The first time, however, the curse he used to try to kill me rebounded and hit him instead, leaving me with nothing but this scar. Voldemort disappeared but he rose again my fourth year of Hogwarts. He wanted to rid the world of Muggles and Muggleborns but we weren't going to have that, right?" You fervently shook your head, not understanding why anyone would do such a thing. "But you see, there was a group of people that called themselves the Order of the Phoenix that took a stand against Voldemort and his Death Eaters. They fought long and hard, trying to save the Wizarding world. Unfortunately, many good people were killed during the battles, like your Grandpa Ted."

"My mommy and daddy were killed, weren't they?"

Harry nodded numbly.

"But they were good guys? So they died trying to save other wizards? And me?"

Andromeda joined in on the conversation. "I told you before; your parents were great people. They were kind, loyal, and brave. They loved you so very much, Teddy, as did your grandfather."

"Mommy and daddy were heroes." It wasn't a question, merely a fact confirmed by the twinkle in Harry's eyes.

"Yes, they were heroes. They fought to the very end and if it weren't for the underhanded tricks of the other side, they'd be with you right now."

"So they didn't leave because they didn't love me?"

Harry looked horrified by the thought. "Of course not! I've an interesting story I'll tell you when you're old enough to understand but just know, they'll always love you no matter what. You see, when I got this scar, Voldemort took away my parents too."

"He did?" you demanded, absolutely shocked.

"Yes he did. I see where you're coming from, Ted. It hurts when you have no parents around and you see everyone else hugging their mum or dad and getting tucked in at night. But what you've got to understand is you have so many people here for you. Growing up, I had the Weasleys. You have them too, and of course you've got your Grandma Andy."

By this time, you perked up considerably. "I do!"

Harry smiled. "And don't you forget about me. I'll always be here for you, Ted. I love you, kid. Always remember that."

A broad smile stretched across your face. "I love you too, Harry."

After that, he whisked you away to the Burrow where you saw just how special and loved you were.

And it was also because of your godfather you decided to board the Hogwarts Express for the first time.

Of course you had heard about Hogwarts growing up, and of course you were terribly excited by the prospect of attending such a renowned school. For months, you dreamed about all of the adventures you would have behind those dreamy stone walls (rebuilt with much help from Wizarding Britain). Harry had told you countless tales of the Marauders (he only ever mentioned three but you were never any wiser). You were thrilled to hear that your father had been a member and had partaken in some of the greatest pranks of Hogwarts' history. You decided right then and there you would live up to the legacy of Remus Lupin and his friends.

Your acceptance letter arrived the day of your eleventh birthday in a flurry of tawny brown wings. You ran about your grandmother's home, buzzing with excitement. It was around the fifth time you had bumped into one of her expensive vases in your haste she decided to take you to visit the Potters.

Once your feet hit the grate of Grimmauld Place, you bolted out of the fireplace and ran headfirst into Harry. He looked at you with that familiar twinkle in his eye as you waved the heavy parchment in his face, chattering nonstop.

"Can we go to Diagon Alley now?" you asked, swaying on the balls of your feet.

"Don't you want to eat first, Teddy?" Ginny questioned, putting her hands on your shoulders to keep you still. "I've made your favorite dessert," she added with a wink.

"Dessert for breakfast?" You gasped. "What are we waiting for? There's treacle tart just begging to be eaten!"

An hour later, the three of you were passing through the Leaky Cauldron, saying hello to Neville Longbottom as you did. Once in the Alley, you grabbed a hold of Ginny's hand and pulled her through the sea of curious witches and wizards eyeing you all with intense interest. Parting the ocean, you found yourself in front of the Quality Quidditch Supplies store. Ginny chuckled knowingly.

The day was a long and grueling one. By the end of it, you were sagging tiredly in your godfather's arms, sleep spelled out across your drooping eyelids. But then something caught your eye, awakening the eager child within:

A triple scoop chocolate fudge sundae with all the works.

You jumped out of Harry's arms, bolting for Fortescue's. Your hair went from a sleepy brown to a bright bubblegum pink. Suddenly, a startled gasp sounded from beside you.

"Your hair," a little girl whispered, eyes wide.

"What about it?" you asked, ruffling said hair and changing it to a sky blue.

The girl edged away, watching you in horror. "That's not normal," she shouted. "You're a freak!"

You stopped in your tracks, watching her retreating form. Not normal? A freak? What could that possibly mean? No one ever said you were abnormal for the things you could do. The family always seemed rather amused by your Metamorphmagus abilities. But now...were you a freak? Was changing your hair something frowned upon by normal wizarding people? You turned towards a group of chattering people, your hair and eyes shifting through different colors.

"Look at that!" One of the group members shouted, pointing at you. You smiled, hoping they found it amusing.

"That's so crazy," another giggled. Now laughing, they walked away talking about "the boy with the weird hair".

You frowned and turned to your godparents. "Can we go home now?"

Harry knew something was wrong. He could read you like a book. You were too quite at dinner, too lax after dessert. You even passed up the opportunity to play nighttime Quidditch. But when he came to ask, you perfected the art of fake sleep.

"What's wrong, Ted?" He asked as you stood on the infamous Platform 9 3/4 together. There was a frown on your face. Your hands were wedged deep in your pockets, a hood pulled over your head. You couldn't bare the thought of going of to Hogwarts where you were sure you'd be labeled as the freak. You might as well just shave your head so no one could talk about your crazy hair. But then there was your eyes and the fact that you could morph your features, not like you'd done it much.

You were contemplating whether it'd be possible to survive headless when Harry pulled you to the side of the platform.

"Look, I know something's up," he began, crossing his arms and giving you a pointed look. "You've been acting weird for the past two days."

"Weird!" you exclaimed. "What does that even mean? Who decides what's weird and what's not? I'm not weird! I know I'm not!"

Harry's expression softened. "Is that what this is about?" You didn't respond but it was enough for him. "Teddy, are you ashamed of what you can do?"

"That girl at Diagon Alley said I was a freak," you sniffed.

Harry frowned. "Well, that wasn't very nice of her. Listen, Ted, you're not weird. Or a freak for that matter."

"Then what am I?"

"You're just different," he replied easily.

Eyes narrowed, you asked, "Isn't that the same?"

"Not at all."

"I don't follow."

"Do you?"

You cried out in frustration. Harry chuckled.

"Different and weird are two separate things that can be combined into one but really, one sounds worse than the other. To be different is to stray from the path that people see as 'normal'. Really, though, what does that mean? What can be defined as normal and what can be defined as abnormal? See, to different people, it means something that doesn't run parallel with what others see it as. To me, you're the most normal kid I know."

"Really?"

"Really. But to others, like the little girl at the Alley, she's never seen anything like you before. Some people are afraid of things they're unfamiliar with. Its sad but true. When my mum found out she was a witch, her sister wasn't very nice to her and called her a freak."

"Did they overcome their differences and create a mutually understanding relationship that survived the test of time?"

Looking quite amused, Harry tried not to laugh. "You've been talking to Hermione again, haven't you? Er, perhaps that wasn't the best example. Anyway, as I was saying, there is nothing weird or freakish about you, Ted. You'll find in the Wizarding world that there are plenty of things that fit those words but once you get to know them, you'll find there's nothing strange about them. Well, some things anyway."

You raised an eyebrow. "So what you're saying is if people get to know me, they'll see I'm okay?"

"Pretty much, yeah." He reached out and pulled down your hood. Shocked, your hair switched to a bright yellow as you called out,

"Hey!"

A boy passing by slowed his gait when you mysteriously became a redhead and then, after Harry made you laugh, a boy with neon blue hair.

"Woah!" he exclaimed.

You frowned, worrying what he would say.

"That was...awesome!"

Well, that was unexpected.

"What kind of magic is that?" The stranger asked eagerly.

Running a hand through your hair, you told him what exactly you were. He went on to tell you just how amazing you were. You snuck a peak at your godfather who was smiling smugly.

"Come here my little oddball," he called after the train sounded its whistle. With a roll of your eyes, you willingly embraced him. Before you turned to Ginny and Andy, he whispered, "I love you, kid. Even if you can change the way you look. There's absolutely nothing wrong with you and I'm sure you'll make tons of friends. But when things seem rough, just remember all of the people you've got at home rooting for you, okay?"

Smiling, you nodded and hugged Ginny and your grandmother before boarding the train with your new friend, Robbie Thickman. A whole new world was waiting for you in Scotland.

But then, four years later, you decided to be a rebellious little prat.

Don't get involved. Take it to the authorities.

You're guardians always told you that, even the Hogwarts professors. But you, you're the type of person to take it personal. This situation called for swift action; nothing they did would be enough.

So you took it into your own hands.

Victoire was young, she needed guidance and protection. That's just what you were to her. You would nonchalantly watch her from afar, making sure she never got into any sort of trouble. When you saw her following a dangerous path, you'd divert her to a safer route. If there was pain in her pretty blue eyes, you'd see to it that whoever was behind it was punished. And when you found out someone was planning to ambush her late one night, you nearly snapped.

The Slytherins were approaching fast. As you ran down the Hogwarts halls, your friends behind you, your eyes constantly slid down to the Marauder's map held firmly in your hand. She was alone; they weren't.

You knew it wasn't smart. But you did it anyway. You weren't going to let them get away with hurting your Victoire. She was cowering on the floor, her eyes wide and pale blond hair hiding her tear-streaked face. You hurt them, just like they almost did to her. After that, they knew never to mess with you or your friends.

You sulked in Gryffindor Tower, refusing to leave Victoire's side even when she begged you to go away. It stung, but you pretended it didn't, covering the pain with harsh words that made her wince. You skipped classes and did not leave until Headmistress McGonnagall literally dragged you to her office. Once inside, you instantly tensed up.

"Where's Andy?"

Harry frowned, standing slowly. "She couldn't make it. Teddy, what happened?"

Sinking into the chair beside him, you buried your face in your hands. "They were going after Vicky," you told him in a weak voice. "I couldn't let them get away with it."

And you explained what happened. Your audience absorbed the story without saying a word.

"You do understand there will be consequences for all involved?"

You nodded, tuning out everything the Headmistress said after "suspension" and "work it off". When she let you go, Harry grabbed your arm.

"Ted, you know fighting is wrong."

"I know that," you admitted exasperatedly. "I'm an idiot, I know that too! But I wasn't thinking, okay? I was mad and all I could see was red. And I was scared. They couldn't do anything to Vic, they just couldn't."

Harry looked on solemnly. As your tirade ended and your resolve crumbled, he wrapped you in his arms, just like he did when you were younger. Your heart ached, longing to go back to those simpler times.

"I understand what happened. I'd say its okay but its really not. Everyone knows how Slytherins get and you were only protecting Vic. I respect you for that. You're a Gryffindor through and through," he chuckled and then whispered, "I love you, kid."

Tears leaked from your eyes, crisscrossing down your bruised cheeks in a symphony of hidden sorrows. You failed to notice the worried blond watching you from the shadows.

And who knew you would end up marrying that girl?

Nerves ate at your insides like a horde of curious nifflers. You fiddled with the collar of your dress robes for the millionth time, trying to tame your hair that was currently a queasy green. Smiling, Ginny took your hands in hers and gave you words of confidence with a kiss on the cheek. You were never more thankful to have her in your life.

Tangled thoughts circled around a snowy hilltop in some secluded English village. You remembered the feel of the powder against your chilled skin, the feel of her warm hand in hers. She was an angel, that much you were sure of. Her snow-licked skin glimmered in the late sun as it fanned about her serene face. Her gaze wastrained on you, never leaving the world you brightened just for her. Her eyes fluttered close, lashes kissing her flushed cheeks. You took that moment to slip a jewel as blue as her eyes set in a gold band on her thin finger.

She said yes.

So here you were, in an old vacated bedroom at the Burrow, fumbling with your brand new robes. Sweat dotted your brow, threatening to spill over and stain the fabric with your anxiety. Suddenly, a cool gust of wind hit you from behind. You turned to see Harry leaning against the door frame, wand hanging from his hand.

"Someone looks nervous," he teased.

You admitted how frightened you were. Today you were bounding your soul to the love of your life. The two of you would begin a new journey together. It thrilled you, yet caused a slight fear at the same time. What if she decided she didn't love you?

"I've seen the way you two are together. If that's not love then I don't know what is. You'll be fine." He sighed through a tired grin. "I can't believe how grown you are. Your parents would be so proud of you."

You would be hearing that from plenty of people tonight. While it annoyed you to no end, it was okay when he said it.

"You're not a little kid anymore, Ted. The day you turned seventeen was the day you officially became an adult but it hasn't hit me until now. Merlin, you're getting married! It feels like just yesterday you were a boy running around your grandmother's house stealing cookies and knocking over vases."

You smiled at the memory.

"You're going to be off making your own life now, your own family. You won't need me anymore."

But you would always need him. He was, after all, the closest thing to a father you had. So when you were pronounced a married man and swooped into the waiting arms of those with congratulations painted on their overeager lips, you nearly cried right then and there as Harry found his way to you and said quite simply,

"I love you, kid."

Years later, you couldn't help but think of the time Ginny gave birth to her first child, James Sirius Potter. He was a beautiful thing, though you never understood that at the time. When you were younger, you were a selfish boy who refused to share his godparents with anyone else. Why should this new, shriveled up thing suddenly pop into the world and steal your thunder?

Really, you were afraid they would forget all about you. With a child of their own, they would have no time for you. It hurt to think that they would stop caring. You loved the Potters so dearly; you didn't want to lose them but your fragile mind found it inevitable. Harry found you one day, pouting in your room at Grimmauld Place. He had been up all night tending to little James as Ginny got some well deserved rest. So exhausted, he refused your offer of riveting game of gobstones. And it angered you.

Because you knew the "not caring" had started.

"What's wrong, kiddo?"

You gave him the cold shoulder and he chuckled. This infuriated you more.

"Alright, you can ignore me all night. Just know you're missing out on some treacle tart."

That got to you. After a few more minutes of goading, you admitted your fears that he didn't love you anymore. He confessed he would never stop loving you, only you would have to be willing to share the love with James and whoever else came along. Grudgingly, you accepted that proposition, as well as the tart.

Now, you came to realize that not only did you wish to be like your father, Remus Lupin, but your godfather as well. Harry Potter was such a loving man that it truly astounded you. You weren't his blood but he still treated you as such, even when you misbehaved or finally grew up.

You watched Victoire, your angel, sleep peacefully for the first time in days. Harry stood beside you, his hand on your shoulder. Ginny spoke but you paid no attention; you only had eyes for the tiny bundle in her arms. As she handed the baby, Remus Lupin II, to you, you vowed you would love the child as your godfather loved you. It started with a tender smile and four special words whispered to the tiny blue-haired boy:

"I love you, kid."