Chapter 10

-Presents-

Teddy

Twelve Fics of Christmas Prompt: Photograph

The Christmas tree shone with glittery lights and baubles as the first rays of the morning sun filtered through the windows of the Potter mansion, illuminating several sleeping bodies. Teddy rolled over, rubbing his eyes (today they were blue), as though such a small movement could prevent the sun from burning his eyelids with its brightness. Snowflakes slid slowly down the glass, and Teddy could not help but watch two of them fall as though it were a race, and will the littlest one to win, before it melted into a watery pile on the window pane.

He tore downstairs, screwing his face up and changing his hair to a festive red in honour of the occasion, narrowly missing the vase at the bottom of the stairs as he went.

"Wake up Uncle Harry, wake up Grandmamma. Santa's been!"

Teddy's screams echoed through the house, only to be punctured by the sound of an obviously exasperated Uncle Ron yelling "Shut up Teddy. It's only seven o'clock."

Stopping at the door to apologise, he heard a few whispered murmurs, followed by a rather disturbing moan from Aunt Hermione, so he continued scurrying into the lounge room, where Aunt Ginny was waving her wand wildly at her cup of coffee, smiling in delight as steam swirled up and mingled with the misty, cold morning air.

"Okay, okay Teddy," she mumbled, resting a hand gently on her protruding stomach. "You'll wake little James."

Teddy nodded solemnly, unable to keep his excitement contained for any more than a minute, poking Aunt Ginny on the shoulder as she stared into the murky brown of her drink.

"Can we have presents, can we?"

He was interrupted by the sound of resounding footsteps as his cousin Victoire stumbled down the bottom step and into the room, swishing her long blonde tresses and tutting in a brilliant impersonation of her mother.

"Mama's going to kill you," she said simply, and Ginny could not help but let out a giggle as she noticed the look of both indignation and fear that swept across Teddy's face as quickly as a windstorm. "She doesn't like having her beauty sleep disturbed."

Teddy was about to respond, and Ginny cut him off, sensing yet another outburst. As much as she loved the little boy, his energy and intensity scared her at times.

"Of course we can have presents now, Teddy," she said brightly, pushing her cup of coffee aside and straightening out her dressing gown. She gestured wildly towards the stairs, where Uncle Ron was bumbling down, clearly still annoyed over the lack of sleep, and Aunt Hermione was following, her brown locks escaping their plaits and blowing across her shoulders.

"Presents," he cheered, turning around to clap Victoire's hand, she looked at him and laughed before subduing under the watchful eyes of her mother, who had just entered the room with Uncle Bill.

"Teddy wants to open presents," Ginny announced loudly to the now full kitchen. Gesturing towards the lounge room, where the Christmas tree was located, she waited behind, whispering to Harry, who was attempting in vein to flatten his unruly hair, "Maybe that'll shut him and Fleur up. Last thing I need is a hyperactive eight year old and a moody French woman ruining lunch." Harry nodded in agreement, knowing that Ginny didn't really mean any of this, and patted her swollen stomach.

"You're going to be a great mother."

They emerged in the lounge room, only to find Teddy buried under layers of wrapping paper that clashed horribly with his now bright pink hair.

"Thank you Uncle George," he yelled, popping his head out to reveal what would have to be the wildest grin most of the room had ever seen on a child's face. "I love Gobstones. Wanna play with me after breakfast, Vicky?"

"Don't call me that," Victoire groaned, but her deep brown eyes softened as they fell upon Teddy's new present, obviously Gobstones were something she was willing to sacrifice her dignity for. Uncle Ron also looked rather disconcerted at the nickname, but Hermione clapped a hand over his mouth before he could say anything.

"Who's present is next?" Uncle Charlie asked, leaning over Teddy to grab at one of the many haphazardly stacked presents adorning the floor.

"To Teddy, with love, Grandmamma and Uncle Harry," he read from the label, staring at first at Harry, and then at Andromeda, who sat in the corner, watching her grandson, her face flickering between joy at seeing him so contented and disgust at his rowdy, outlandish behaviour.

Harry, who was leaning on the doorframe, watching this large, but incredibly happy family with a grin, threaded his way through the masses of legs and discarded toys to Andromeda. He took the present from Charlie, who gave him a rather confused stare, and beckoned Teddy over.

"This isn't a toy," Grandmamma began, trying to avoid glaring at Teddy as he groaned. "And don't do that, it's not polite when someone's giving you a gift."

Teddy nodded fervently, too excited by the lure of wrapping paper and ribbon to heed his grandmother's lecture. He tore at the paper, its bright colours and Christmas trees quickly reduced to a tattered mess, and stared at the book forlornly.

"It's a book," he said flatly, his attention already diverted back towards the base of the Christmas tree, where Uncle Charlie's son Olaf was unwrapping a toy broomstick and shrieking in delight.

Andromeda gave Harry a quizzical look, and he shrugged in return.

"Look, Teddy," she said kindly, "it's not a book."

Victoire, who was crouched in the corner with Aunt Ginny and her father, snorted. "It's got pages, and looks exactly like one of those boring things that Aunt Hermione reads." Fleur gave her a chastising look, but everyone ignored it, their attention solely focussed on the silent battle of wits between the child and his grandmother.

"It's some pictures of your parents," Andromeda continued, hoping that her words would finally catch his attention. He was just being a typical eight year old, and she wasn't offended by his behaviour, more just concerned that he didn't really understand the true value of his gift.

She flipped open to the first page, which was adorned by a picture of Teddy's mother and father. The sunken face that had greeted Harry many a time during the years Harry had known his father's best friend was gone; it was replaced by a handsome smile and twinkling eyes. Tonks' hair was a vivid pink, and it clashed horribly with her bright yellow dress, making him smile slightly. It was this colour that attracted Teddy as well; he snatched the book from his grandmother's hands, staring at it in disbelief.

"My mother," he said, seeming to glow amongst the delighted smiles of his aunts and uncles, "she had the same colour hair as me." He began to flick slightly through the pictures, ignoring the fervent whispers of Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione about the naivety of children these days, until he heard Victoire's voice, asking him a question.

"So Teddy, what happened to those Gobstones?"

And as Teddy scurried outside after his almost cousin, Andromeda didn't even bother to reprimand him about forgetting his gloves. Instead, she turned to Harry, thankful that even if her grandson would never know the power of memories, he had the photographs to inspire him.