Life for Harry and Teddy quickly settled into a strange kind of routine. Never in his life had he appreciated before the day-to-day struggles of a parent. He was at the Academy from six till four-thirty, and all hours in between were filled with Teddy. Ginny had missed out in the tryouts, but not on playing for a regional team; her sights were still firmly set on the Harpies. Changing diapers, chasing the active little Metamorphmagus all over the house, as well as moving onto making the upper floors habitable. Life at Number 12 was always busy; there was a two year old boy to contend with, Ginny's hectic training schedule, then sometimes Ron stayed over with Hermione, sometimes George dropped around, or Neville. Molly was a consistent presence, keeping their fridge well stocked with casseroles and stews and the cupboards with baby formula. There was normally an Owl from Andromeda once or twice a week, checking in on them all and sounded much happier than she had been here.
When Ginny wasn't home, Harry dropped Teddy either at the Lovegood's or the Burrow early in the morning, normally with Teddy still asleep (and how that kid managed to sleep when Harry took Sirius's motorbike to work he had no idea) and picked him up just as he was starting to get twitchy and irritable before dinner. As great as it was to have Luna and her insane father as baby-sitter back up, he never quite sat right on the days Teddy was there. Granted, he'd sent Hermione to discreetly check the house for explosive horns or anything of the same kind, but altogether he was a happier man when Teddy was with Molly. Luna was now editor of the Quibbler and as airy and dreamy as she had always been, but she was a wonderful carer. The most lucid Harry had ever seen her were when he either dropped off or picked up his young godson. Xenophilus, however, did not instil the same confidence.
Then again, since the war...he'd never been the same, old Lovegood. Quieter. He dressed in quieter colours, spoke quieter or didn't speak at all. His eyes...his eyes were haunted and tired and he lacked the insane, bubbling energy Harry had come to expect of him. Luna, however, never changed. She bounded through life with the same random tenacity of a concussed Yorkie and always greeted him with a sun-worship smile, no matter the ridiculous hour of the morning in which she opened the door.
Teddy Lupin was a two years old. He was walking, babbling in baby talk, changing facial features, height, skin colour and hair colour at random intervals and generally causing havoc amongst his extended family. However never, it was noted, did his eyes change; no matter how many changes he flashed through a day to annoy his grandmotherly Molly, his eyes remained the same clear hazel that had been a much a part of Remus Lupin as the fear of the moon.
It had been a long day. Harry pulled the motorbike to a jolted stop outside the Burrow and he and Ron spent a moment catching their breath.
"Blimey" Ron managed finally, and hauled himself out of the sidecar. Harry nodded dumbly. They'd been pushed hard today. Tested, retested, shouted at, duelled and run through a tremendous amount of drills. Harry had been thrown about so many times in his combat lessons he was sure there were bruises on top of his bruises. Ron had been forced to process information with spells and curses rebounding around him, klaxon alarms and massively complicated coding systems.
"I haven't done that much bloody work since sixth year" Ron declared as they trudged up the garden path. Harry snorted tiredly.
"Think of me when you're relaxing in your bath. You haven't got a cranky two-year-old to feed" muttered Harry. Ron winced, mentally face palming himself.
"Ruddy hell mate. You got my sympathies"
Harry yawned and tapped on the door. A flustered but widely smiling Hermione answered.
"Harry! Oh, Harry-" her smile melted into an anxious look-
"Now, Harry, you mustn't think on it too much because it's only natural at his age to, well, to need to identify-"
Harry held up his hand and stepped past her.
"'Mione, I have had a hell of a day. Whatever it is, can we leave this for another time?"
Before Hermione could answer, Molly had appeared. She had the same expression, caught between happiness and apprehension. He looked between them as Hermione gave Ron a kiss on the cheek.
"Alright, what's going on?"
Molly wrung her hands.
"Well, you see dear, its Teddy"
"Teddy!-" Harry's heart stopped and his blood ran cold- "Is he alright?"
Mrs Weasley immediately recognised her mistake and hurried to reassure him.
"Oh he's fine, dear, he's just fine. It's just...well, he's learned a new word Harry dear"
Still assuming the worst, Harry's befuddled mind immediately caused him to glare at Ron.
"What did I tell you about language around the kid?" he grouched. Ron looked wounded.
"Me? I wasn't even here today!"
"Doesn't mean he didn't learn it from-"
"Daddyyy!"
A chubby, blue-haired arrow leapt from where he'd been played and wrapped around Harry's legs. It was the word rather than the weight of the small child on his tired legs that jolted him. With a stricken expression, Harry looked up at Hermione and Molly, his hands on the shoulders of the small child at his feet, but not picking him up just yet.
"He found a picture of you and Ron and I in my room and immediately he just pointed at you and said it clear as a bell" stuttered Hermione, eyes wide.
Harry looked down and found that Teddy was sprouting a pig snout below his Lupin eyes, and chuckled. He pulled Teddy up by his arms and looked him in the eyes.
"When you're older, Teddy Lupin, you and I will have a conversation about this" he said softly. Uncaring of the serious atmosphere, Teddy began to whine and stuck his thumb in his mouth. Gently, Harry pulled the digit from its gummy prison and looked around for Teddy's bag.
"Alright little man, let's get you home. What do you say to Molly and auntie Hermione?"
"Fank you for 'aving me!" he said sulkily, burying his face in Harry's black robes, his hair turning red, as if to remind them that he was part of the family and therefore was above thank-yous. Harry shook his head at the boy's antics and gave his family a nod.
"Righto. Thanks again, Mum. Talk to you later, Ron, 'Mione"
They waved to him from the door as he crossed the lawn and settled and no-longer-crying Teddy into the sidecar. The little boy loved the big, rumbling, noisy motorbike with a degree of enthusiasm that made Harry smile wryly to think of the arguments Sirius and Lupin would have had about it.
