Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, Remus and Tonks would not have died. And Remus would have married Luna Lovegood's sister. And they would have lived happily ever after. But I don't. And we won't.

Characters: Harry-freaking-Potter (kudos if you get that reference!) and Andromeda Tonks

Genre: Family/Hurt/Comfort

A/N: Many apologies again, faithful readers (the three of you out there), but real life is being a real bitch right now. That may account for my slightly darker take on this chapter, or I might just like being dark and angsty and all that good stuff. . . . Yeah, I think it's that one.

Plus, big thank-you's to NoxFlame172 and crapmuffins for their reviews of last chapter! I hope you both return to read this one!

Bon Appetit!

. . .

No One Better

Harry Potter was many things.

A godfather was not one of them.

"How does someone so small. . . ." He trailed off, staring at his godson's bulging diaper with something approaching horror. His face scrunched-up in discomfort, Teddy's only reply was a rousing wail.

"OK, alright, just . . . just give me a second." Unfastening the nappy with fumbling fingers, Harry turned his face away from the stench. "Ugh . . . OK, now how do. . . ." He scanned the room for supplies – kitchen tongs, maybe? - as Teddy's wails continued unabated.

"Shh, now, shh. . . ." His attempt at a soothing tone failing miserably, Harry ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "C'mon, Ted, shh. . . ."

Where could they be? It was a nursery, for Merlin's sake, there had to be diapers somewhere.

"I've never quite got the hang of these sort of householdy spells. . . ."

Teddy's face was turning an angry red now, chubby legs flailing.

"Just . . . just shut up, would you?"

The screams increased tenfold. And Harry wanted to scream along with him.

"What is going on?" Elegant even in disarray, Andromeda swept her grandson – stinking nappy and all – into her arms. "Grandma can't even get two-seconds rest these days, can she?"

Though she kept her tone purposefully light, she glared daggers at Harry.

"I couldn't find. . . ."

She didn't even wait for him to finish. "Accio diapers!"

"I didn't think. . . ." Harry floundered helplessly as Andromeda set about changing and redressing the infant.

"My mum's got this knack of getting stuff to fit itself in neatly . . . I've never mastered how she does it. . . ."

"Of course you didn't." Still, her tone remained neutral. Kissing the baby's forehead, she silenced the piercing cries to whimpers; a gummy smile appeared on Teddy's face.

But the silence was louder than anything. Harry half-wanted Teddy to start crying again; at least then there would be something to distract him. At least then he wouldn't have to feel Andromeda's eyes boring into him, radiating disappointment.

"Would you mind feeding him or do you have to go?"

Harry flinched at the words. He knew what they meant.

Or is that too hard for you, too?

Yes. Yes, as a matter of fact, it was. Who did he think he was fooling?

"I have complete confidence in you. . . ."

Complete confidence – what a joke. . . . All Harry had was his saving-people-thing and he'd even managed to screw that up. If it weren't for him, Teddy would have had parents . . .

"You'll be godfather?"

"M-me?"

. . . parents instead of a useless git of a godfather.

"I'll go."

"Fine." Andromeda stroked a strand of turquoise-colored hair off of Teddy's forehead. So judgmental only moments ago, she now refused to look at him.

Harry hovered in the doorway. He knew he didn't need to offer an excuse – helping in the Hogwarts reconstruction or an interview with the Prophet – they both knew what he was really saying.

I quit.

But he did anyway.

"I didn't ask for this, you know."

"Of course you didn't."

"I didn't," Harry repeated emphatically. It was crucial that he make her understand this. "I mean . . . Prof- . . . Remus, he hardly gave me a choice at all, you know? The last time I saw him, we were shouting at each other and then he's asking if I want to be godfather? I didn't know what to say. . . ."

But then . . . then they have to go and get themselves killed. And I don't know what to do, I'm not a parent, I don't know the first thing about parents! I didn't even know where the diapers were, for Merlin's sake!"

Andromeda's expression remained inscrutable as ever.

Harry wanted to rage and storm, to shout that this wasn't fair that, just because Remus and Tonks had – and he half-despised himself for thinking it – skipped out on their child, he should have to take their place, become a father to an infant he had barely known a month. He had defeated Voldemort, wasn't that enough?

Didn't he at least deserve some time to mourn? They had been his friends, after all, his mentors, and Remus. . . . Remus, who had been the last remaining link to his father.

The words died in his throat. Teddy had twisted in his grandmother's arms, observing his godfather with wide, brown eyes. Eyes that were – for the moment, at least – the same shade as Remus's.

"I was trying to make a world in which he could live a happier life."

But could Harry give him that? He, a seventeen-year-old wizard who had never changed a nappy in his life?

Or, much like his own godfather, would any care he could offer be tempered by resentment toward his godson for the man he could never be?

Too many what ifs, too many questions. . . .

Yet still he stood there; those brown eyes held him transfixed, tethering him to the here-and-now.

"I think he looks like Dora, but she thinks he is like me."

And, with his million worries clamoring to be voiced, all Harry could manage was, "I'm not ready." It was a far-from-perfect summation, but it was the best he could do. Hermione had always been better, much better, at emotional things like this.

Her features softening slightly, Andromeda stepped forward. Placing a hand on his shoulder for the briefest of seconds, she deposited a wriggling Teddy into his arms. Shocked, Harry wrapped his arms tentatively around the baby who granted him a gummy smile in return.

When she finally spoke, every word seemed to cost her a great effort. "She – Nymphadora – always left things all over the place. His father was the more organized one. I expect that's why you couldn't find the. . . ." She trailed off, instead nodding toward the diapers, now placed neatly beneath the changing table.

"Yeah, erm . . . thanks," Harry said awkwardly, floundering for words that would be able to take away the shadows in Andromeda's eyes, words that wouldn't come. . . .

Her only reply was a small incline of the head. "I am going to get some rest. Teddy needs to be fed, his bottles should be in the cupboard next to the sink."

Not waiting for a reply this time – something Harry was grateful for, as he was not altogether sure he would have been able to formulate one – she disappeared.

Alone again, Harry bounced his godson in his arms. "You hungry, Ted?" he asked, attempting a jovial tone that came out much better than expected.

Teddy giggled in reply, his eyes changing to an emerald-green that mirrored his godfather's.

His lips twitching – how long had it been since he had last laughed? - Harry ruffled the tuft of turquoise hair. Teddy grasped his thumb with one chubby hand, gurgling incoherently.

"You, yes, of course – Dora quite agrees, no one better. . . ."

With Teddy, there was no need for magic words – not yet. All he needed, all any of them needed, was time. Time to heal, time to make mistakes, time to learn how to be a godfather – disgusting nappies and all.

"I – yeah – blimey. . . ."

Eventually, the right words would come.

. . .

A/N: Harry may have seemed a bit OOC to some of you, but I tried to make him as realistic as possible. In the final chapter of Deathly Hallows (before the Epilogue), he is just thinking about some much-needed relaxation and then – boop – it's Nineteen Years Later and he's Mr. Perfect Dad/Husband/Godfather/Auror/Any Other Title You Can Think Of.

He didn't go from Mr. I'm Tired to Mr. Perfect in one day, he went through some really traumatic stuff – notably the loss of Remus and Tonks and having to take responsibility for Teddy – and he is perfectly justified, in my opinion, in being a teeny bit selfish.

If you bothered to read it, hope you agree with, or at least understand, my logic, and hope you enjoyed it. Let me know in that little box down there!

Next chapter will feature James Potter and Su Li who, judging by the HP Lexicon, was Sorted into Ravenclaw in 1991. Boy, that'll be fun to write (said my Inner Snape sarcastically). If anyone has any ideas, feel free to send an owl my way. I'll probably end up doing a time-travel story of some kind. . . . Maybe even a crack!fic/parody. . . . Either way, be sure to tune in!

Stay classy, San Diego.

~Lizzy Lovegood