"May-gun! May-gun!"
His desperate cries slowly roused Megan out of a deep sleep. "Teddy? Wha- what's wrong, sweetheart?"
"Daddy won't wake up!"
"He's okay, he's just very, very sleepy."
"How come?"
Megan hesitated, trying to think of an appropriate reason. The truth certainly wouldn't work; 'Sorry, Teddy, but your dad had his hand smashed to bits by an enchanted, solid iron ball and had to take a bunch of addictive potions to feel well enough to keep playing' just didn't sound right. "You know how he works for Puddlemere United? Well, he had to work really late last night, so he needs his rest."
Teddy's little face was wet with tears. "I thought he was like Gran. She said she was going to sleep and not wake up, so I won't be able to see her again."
Megan's heart ached at his worried reply. She opened her blankets, patting the mattress and assisting him in his climb into her bed. "That's not going to happen, he'll wake up later today, I promise. Harry- your dad's not going anywhere, okay? He'll always be there for you."
"What about you? You won't go 'way, will you?"
Cradling him to her breast, she gave him a gentle squeeze. "It's different. I'm your friend, Harry's your dad."
"But I don't want you to go!" Fresh tears threatened to fall at his shouted pronouncement.
It was fair to say that was the moment Megan admitted to herself she'd grown to love this little boy. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she threw off the blankets. "What do you say we Floo to the Dusty Dragon? I bet Garth has some breakfast treats fresh out of the oven for us!"
Teddy sniffed a few more times, but it appeared his worries were calmed. She tickled him until he was smiling, and then he gave a whoop of excitement. Megan got the feeling if he weren't lying down, he'd be doing his 'snack dance'. "Can you run downstairs and ask Kreacher to start some coffee for me? I just need to pick out my outfit and then I'll help you get dressed."
Harry woke in time for dinner, but only just. He appeared, freshly showered, just as Megan finished setting the table.
"What's for dinner?"
"Bangers and mash." The sight of him was enough to bring back vivid memories of last night - both the real ones and her fantasies.
"Ah. I see Teddy got to choose the menu."
"I helped!" the little boy said, careening into Harry's knees.
Ruffling his hair with his good hand, Harry took a seat, fumbling a bit with his utensils. Megan watched him struggle to eat with his off-hand, making nearly as much of a mess as Teddy. "Do you want me to take a look at your wrist after dinner?"
"I'd be grateful if you would," he said, then shot a rueful grin at her from across the table. "That is, if I ever finish!"
A random image of Megan, seated on his lap, feeding him dinner popped into her mind. Gods, what was wrong with her? She had to get her hormones under control! "Of course." A sip of cold water helped. "Just to let you know, I won't be able to help out here tomorrow night."
Harry set his fork down. "Oh? Have you got plans?"
"Yes, but I can come by the next morning if you need me to."
"I see." He didn't speak again for the rest of the meal.
With dinner finished, Megan had Harry take Teddy upstairs for a bath and stories before bed while she cleaned up. It bothered her, the way she'd grown so comfortable here. It seemed that despite her warnings to herself, on some level she felt like she belonged here. With Teddy, and with Harry.
That had to be the reason for the way she was always losing her head around him. What she needed was some time away; the full moon tomorrow was a start. She couldn't let herself get sucked in any deeper here, it just couldn't last and-
"If you scrub any harder, you're going to scour your way right through that pan," Harry observed from the doorway.
Though her hands stilled, Megan didn't turn away from the sink. He was barefoot, and if Megan's senses weren't constantly tuned to everything about him, she might not have heard his approach.
"About last night…" he began, so close his breath tickled the back of her neck and she could feel the heat radiating from his body, "I'm not going to-"
"Did Teddy get to bed okay? He spent the whole day in a state over you." 'He wasn't the only one'
Her interruption halted his words, and it was like the mention of his godson broke whatever enchantment being alone with him cast over her. "Yes, I told him all about the match. Even used some of his toys to play out the highlights." His proximity receded, and the increased distance gave Megan the courage to turn around and face him. Harry looked irritated. "You know, you got so angry at me when I was treating you like 'a live-in servant'," his fingers made 'air quotes' as he threw her words back at her. "But you're the one who's treating me like a coworker. Can we talk about something other than schedules or meals or bedtimes?"
Drying her hands on her jeans, Megan found herself more than happy to be frustrated in a way that wasn't sexual, to grasp at a tension with him she could satisfy. "That's what parents do, Harry. You're the only person Teddy has left in the world, you're supposed to be a part of all of that!" He visibly flinched. "What is it with you? I know you don't dislike kids; no one could fake the way you were at the children's ward. Are you just a stereotypical man, with a fear of any sort of commitment or responsibility?"
"That's not how I am with Teddy. I'm here for him, I always will be."
She pointed an accusatory finger at him. "What you're offering, it's not enough. You think I'm the only one to see it? Why do you think Andromeda was pushing you to spend more time with him before she got sick? She could see it as well as I do." The defensiveness fell away from him, and instead Harry looked stressed, guilty. "So whatever this is that's causing you to keep him at arm's length, you need to fix it."
His gaze dropped to the floor, and for several seconds he didn't reply. Finally, he quietly called out for his elf. Kreacher appeared with a pop. "Can you finish cleaning up for us?"
Immediately the pots and pans she hadn't already washed floated into the air brushed with a soapy rag, while the leftovers were sorted into glass containers. "Would you mind giving my wrist a look?"
She couldn't believe he was avoiding the subject. How could she be so attracted to such an infuriating man, Megan wondered. If anything proved this- this desire she felt for him was completely physical, it was this.
That thought gave her the courage to follow him, grabbing her wand from her bag before heading into the parlour to take a seat next to him on the same sofa they'd shared the night before. She bit out the diagnostic spell with perhaps more vigour than necessary, focusing on the results to try and cool her anger. The stabilisation seemed to have corrected the bone regrowth, but it was no wonder he was still feeling pain. Another numbing charm, and a request for Kreacher to bring another dose of Skele-Gro would keep the recovery on schedule.
Megan made to rise out of her seat. "There, you're all set. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm tired, and going to head home."
"Megan, wait."
She knew she shouldn't. Now was the time to cling to this emotional distance, to get her head screwed on straight and get back to working on her own life.
Nevertheless, she sat back down.
"The thing with Teddy, it- it's not that I don't love him. I do. And when Remus and Tonks asked me to be his godfather, I was so happy. Ecstatic, even. It was right after we'd escaped Malfoy Manor, after we'd lost…" Harry appeared to shake himself out of the memories. "Anyway, I'm good at being a godfather. I had a great one, after all. But- I mean, the thing is-"
"The thing is," Megan picked up when he trailed off, "Is that you're not just his godfather any longer, are you?"
"Right. I mean, what do I know about being a dad? My parents died before I could even walk, and from then on, I was with my relatives. I was supposed to be his cool godfather, the one that takes him to quidditch matches to skive off homework, and gives him advice on the girl he likes. Andromeda was supposed to be the one to actually raise him!"
He was being rather dramatic, wasn't he? "You make it sound like parenting is some sort of grand arithmantic theory! All you have to do is love your children, give them the things they need, be there for them! What's so hard about that? What's so difficult about being there to greet them when they wake up, or reading them a story before tucking them in to go to sleep? All you have to do is show you care, show they're good enough for you to try-" Megan abruptly cut herself off, ashamed. Why was she yelling these things at Harry? Was she really angry at him for not trying or caring?
Or Gwenog?
Harry didn't notice her sudden change in mood, though. He was glaring into the fire, jaw clenched tightly. "That's the thing, it is all theoretical for me. I never knew any of that. My relatives-" he practically spat the word. "-locked me in a cupboard every night until I was eleven. They never did any of those things you said, never a single, solitary act of kindness or affection. They ridiculed me, they starved me, they hurt me."
"What?!" she whispered, horrified. How could that have happened? Her mind flashed to the night before, to the feel of his body beneath her fingers. How many of those scars were from the people that were supposed to care for him?
"So I'm sorry that I can't recreate whatever great upbringing everyone else had. I'm trying my best, okay? But don't sit there and tell me I intrinsically know how to be a father, when it's something I never got growing up."
Megan was too stunned to react when he stood, storming up the stairs. She never imagined- how could his relatives do that to him? And why didn't anyone step in?
'Probably for the same reason no one stood up to Gwenog' her mind helpfully supplied.
Yes, Megan knew all about trying to outrun painful childhoods. There was a certain irony to the fact that both she and Harry endured neglect but reacted to it in such vastly different ways. Harry with avoidance and the fear of not living up to his own imagined expectations; Megan with an obsession for the opportunity to right the wrongs done to her.
Those thoughts, that kinship stuck with her as her flats clicked on the hardwood stairs in her path to the third floor. She stopped, briefly, to peek into Teddy's room and ensure their argument downstairs hadn't disturbed him, then continued on her way into Harry's room, closing the door behind her as she entered.
"I thought you had to go."
Her feet carried her across the room to where he was, and Megan sat down on his bed beside him. "I told you how my dad died before I was born." He nodded. "My mum, she passed away when I was four. She was young, and sick, and I guess leaving me outside Fortescue's was the best option she could come up with."
"She just… left you? In Diagon Alley?" His words were strangled, like he had to force them out of his throat.
"The Ministry didn't take long to figure out who I was, and it so happened that my father's sister had just finished Hogwarts and started a career in quidditch."
"So Gwenog raised you?"
"No," she said firmly, meeting his eyes steadily as she spoke in a calm voice. "I lived with her, but Gwenog didn't raise me."
"I'm not sure I understand." The look he gave her, though, told Megan he didn't have much trouble guessing what she meant.
"She wasn't really the maternal sort. It wasn't like what you said happened at your relatives', but Gwenog didn't want me. I guess I was a daily reminder of what my mother-" at this, she shook her head and started again. "What she said my mother had done to her brother. She didn't want me and never pretended otherwise. Those things I said downstairs, about what it takes to be a parent? I didn't grow up with those, either, just like you.
"So- I guess what I'm trying to say is that I know what you're going through, and I'm sorry you went through what you did. But being afraid of messing things up for Teddy is going to mess things up for Teddy."
Harry was quiet for a long moment, mulling over her words. "Yea. Yea, I guess you're right."
"Think of it this way: tonight was the last night with your godson. Tomorrow, you two can have a new start. The first day with your son."
He still looked nervous, but gave a reluctant nod of acceptance. Megan yawned, feeling exhaustion seep into the space her emotions withdrew from. She wasn't looking forward to braving the November chill on her walk home from the Dragon. Lost in her thoughts, she belatedly realised Harry had asked a question. "I'm sorry, what was that?"
He cleared his throat. "I asked, 'what did your mother do that Gwenog blamed you for'?"
Too tired for the familiar flash of indignation to rise at the mere thought, Megan's answer was simple and to the point. "My mother was poor and muggleborn. Gwenog assumed she intentionally got pregnant by a famous quidditch player in order to secure a comfortable living."
"Oh."
Had it not come on the heels of such weighty conversation, Megan might have pursued a lengthier response to her blunt statement, especially with Harry being a famous quidditch player. But she'd been up late (or rather, early) with Harry, and then with Teddy all day. It was past time to go home.
Megan made it all the way to his bedroom door before he spoke again. "These plans tomorrow night - you're going out?"
"Harry-" Was one night off really so much to ask?
"Right," he said, a strange inflection in his voice. "We'll be fine here. I'll see you on Tuesday. G'night, Megan."
Knowing what to expect didn't make spending the full moon with Ruby any easier. Her powerlessness and inability to do anything other than keep the girl company while waiting for her transformation to begin was horrible, easily equalling the distress her cries of pain caused when dawn finally broke. Still, Megan knew the only thing worse than being there to witness Ruby's pain would be to know the girl was frightened and alone during her suffering.
Megan took a long nap in the daytime before she'd left for St. Mungo's, so when she stepped out of the Floo to Grimmauld Place the next morning, her exhaustion was more emotional than physical. Teddy enthusiastically greeted her, following her to the kitchen and chattering nonstop about the previous day he'd spent with Harry.
"Have you had breakfast?"
"Yep! Did you bring me a treat?"
She'd packed a change of clothes in her bag and came straight from St. Mungo's, precluding any stop-off at the Dusty Dragon. "Sorry, not today."
He frowned and his exuberance melted away, replaced by an angry scowl. "But I want one!"
"Why don't you let her get settled before you start asking for things?" Harry asked, standing in the kitchen doorway.
It was too late to avoid a tantrum, though, and the meltdown began. Harry made a face at the screaming and crying, and he took a step back. Megan sighed. It wasn't an ideal welcome, but kids were kids, and Teddy was overall one of the good ones.
Before she could bend down to try and talk him down, though, Harry recovered from his hesitation and scooped the little boy into his arms, wincing at his increased proximity to Teddy's cries. "Alright, let's go."
"I can take him," she protested.
He looked her up and down. Red eyes, rumpled clothing, her hair mussed and thrown back into a lazy ponytail, fatigue written all over her face. Without a word, he carried Teddy from the kitchen and, from the diminishing sound of his angry tantrum, up the stairs.
Without Teddy to care for, she felt awkward and out of sorts. And hungry; she'd obviously been otherwise occupied for dinner, and hadn't felt much like eating before coming here, meaning the last food she'd eaten was teatime the day before.
Harry returned just as she slid a ham and cheese omelette onto a plate. "Hungry?"
"Famished! Where's Teddy?"
"Time-out. Andromeda used to- it's what she did when he was being disagreeable."
There was something so attractive about those words. Perhaps it was due to the last discussion they'd shared, but witnessing Harry discipline an angry toddler was the most 'fatherly' thing she'd seen him do.
"Would you like some of this? I'm happy to share."
"I ate with Teddy," he said, but sat down across from her anyway. He opened his mouth to say more, but just as quickly closed it again.
Once more, she felt his eyes on her. "What is it?" she asked, with a mouthful of omelette.
"You look like you had fun last night."
"What?" She looked a fright and he knew it!
"I know you've been spending a lot of time here as of late, but I didn't mean to get in the way of…"
"Of what?"
His jaw set. "All I'm saying is I'm sorry to have asked so much of you these last few weeks. Once the championship's over with, you can take time off as you need it."
Megan set down her fork, trying to work out what this was about. Was he working up the courage to fire her? Because she needed a night off?
Or- maybe this was about what happened that night in the parlour. "I like coming here and taking care of Teddy. If my schedule was a problem, I would have told you." She stood up and took her breakfast to the waste-bin, appetite ruined. "Next time I need a night off, though, I'll be sure to let you know further in advance."
"So it's not serious, then?"
"What's not serious?"
"You're going to make me say it?" he asked, visibly frustrated. "Whoever you spent last night with."
Her jaw dropped. He was jealous! Laughter burbled up in her throat, swallowed a second later by indignation. What right did he have to pry into her personal life? She wasn't the one in a relationship! "I hardly think you have any room to comment. Talked to Ginny, recently?"
"Not since she broke up with me before her match against Falmouth."
The plate in her hands fell to the floor, miraculously surviving its landing but startling them both nonetheless. "What? You never- I didn't know. I'm sorry." She picked up her plate and took it to the sink, more for an excuse to gather herself than any intent to do dishes.
"It's fine." She heard his chair slide along the floor, and if his scent surrounding her wasn't a clear enough tell, his palms flat on the countertop on either side of her signalled his presence. "Like I said, though, I'm willing to be flexible. I know the attraction-" his whisper was hot against the side of her neck, and Megan gripped the edge of the sink, not trusting her legs to keep her upright. "-of spontaneity."
She moaned his name, and turned her head enough that his lips pressed against her skin.
"Daddy? Can I come down now?"
Megan stiffened and Harry withdrew from around her, taking a step back and clearing his throat. "I'll be right there," he called out.
Her voice paused him on his way out of the room. "Just so there's no misunderstanding in the future, I spend every full moon at St. Mungo's with one of the patients from the children's ward. That's where I was last night."
Teddy was especially demanding all the way until naptime, a likely consequence of Megan spending her first full day away from him since she'd started as his nanny. As taxing as dealing with an ill-tempered three-year-old was, Megan found herself grateful for his constant need for attention. Dealing with Teddy, even at his worst, still gave her time to process the news Harry had dropped on her in the kitchen that morning.
Being attracted to Harry was nothing new; looking back, she was able to admit she'd been conscious of seeing him as an appealing man as far back as the day he made his dramatic entrance into the Harpies' locker room. Since then, it seemed like every time they were alone they found themselves in one charged moment after another, so the desire was clearly mutual. Was it so surprising, then, for him to be more obvious in his interest now that he was available?
No, what was surprising was how much she welcomed it.
"What happened next?" Teddy asked, his eyelids drooping and voice drowsy.
Megan shook herself, continuing to read from Three Kneazles and a Nundu. By the time the story was finished, he was fast asleep, and Megan allowed her own eyes to close, leaning back against Teddy's headboard.
She'd never felt so… wanton as she did around Harry. It wasn't only how he made her feel, either; seeing his eyes darkened with lust, the feel of his need throbbing beneath her… Megan felt powerful, to affect him in such a way.
It wasn't that her circumstances had changed simply because his relationship status had. No, her logical side persistently listed all of the reasons Harry Potter wasn't a serious option for her: he was on the rebound, his interest in a family of his own was iffy at best, and most of all, he was a quidditch player. Him being single didn't change any of the reasons she couldn't consider a relationship with him seriously.
But he'd never said anything about a relationship.
They were both in a moment of transition - Harry, with full custody of Teddy; her with a career change. What would the harm be in finding some comfort in each other, temporarily?
Her feet were cold, so she very carefully tugged a section of Teddy's blanket over herself, sinking down further down into his bed.
A fling with Harry could even prove beneficial. She'd only had a single date to Hogsmeade while in school, culminating in an awkward first kiss from Stephen Cornfoot. After graduating, she'd spent the next several years almost entirely in the company of other women. Being with Harry would give her some experience, some confidence in attracting a man she wanted a relationship with.
Feeling satisfied with her justification, Megan drifted off to sleep, joining the slumbering little boy next to her for a well-deserved nap.
"May-gun! Wake uuuuuupp! It's time to eat!"
She stretched, legs hanging off the bed and arms slapping the headboard. Wait- this was Teddy's bed! She'd fallen asleep! "I- uh, I'll be right there!"
Megan popped into the attached bathroom in the guest room she'd slept in the night she'd stayed over. If she'd looked harried and tired when she came over in the morning, sleeping several hours in her clothes with her hair still tied back did little to improve the image. Running her hands beneath the faucet, she tried to straighten some of the loose strands of blonde hair that had come loose, then washed her face.
Teddy was already in his booster seat when she entered the dining room, making a fantastic mess out of a bowl of spaghetti. "Where's your dad?"
"Coming!" Harry called from the kitchen. He poked his head into the room. "Whiskey, or wine?"
"Wine please," she replied, feeling a delicious lick of excitement at seeing him. Her decision earlier to indulge in her attraction gave her the freedom to appreciate her instinctual reaction to his presence.
Harry came in with a plate in each hand, a bottle and two glasses bobbing along in the air behind him. Megan frowned, hurrying to take one of the plates. "You really shouldn't be using that wrist."
"It's fine. I made us lamb shank with roasted veggies. Is that okay?"
It looked positively mouthwatering, and not just because she was hungry. "It's wonderful!"
The three of them ate in companionable silence. Teddy had a slice of Kreacher's banoffee pie for dessert, while Harry and Megan finished off the bottle of wine. It was the perfect end to her day.
Almost perfect, she realised a few minutes later, while tucking Teddy into bed. He wrapped his small arms around her and gave her the strongest hug he could manage.
"I love you, May-gun!"
Now it was perfect.
She practically floated down the stairs, pulling her coat and hat out of the closet with a dreamy smile on her face all the while. What a darling little boy! She was so caught up in the moment that she nearly walked right past Harry on her way to the fireplace.
"Leaving already?"
"It's getting late, and my walk home's only going to get colder the later it gets."
"That's true," he agreed. "If you like, you could stay here tonight. It's warm, and I've got another bottle of wine."
Megan wanted to go home. She felt grimy, from being up all night at St. Mungo's and then napping in her clothes. And while the thought of a repeat of the last time they'd sat together with a bottle of something was appealing, all the more so after today's revelations, the timing felt all wrong.
Besides, she thought (more boldly than she'd ever admit out loud), she wasn't even wearing cute panties.
"Not tonight, but…" She stood on her tiptoes to kiss the corner of his mouth, lingering long enough that he was able to slightly turn and respond. "Ask me again, soon."
The look he gave her as she tossed a pinch of powder into the fire would keep her warm long after she completed her walk home.
A/N: I said before that this fic was going to be very typical of 'romance novels', and it has been/is... with one crucial difference. Romance novels always swap POVs between the male & female leads, whereas WSW is told solely through May-gun's (heh) POV. And she is an unreliable narrator, even when it comes to her own feelings - such as the way her brain constantly says Harry isn't an option despite her obvious attraction to him.
I made this decision pretty much solely because this was *supposed* to be for Oneshot Winter, and putting Harry's POV in would quite obviously necessitate a doubling of the word count. I have enough WIPs as it is, I don't need another 100k+ monster fic to deal with.
Still, a small part of me regrets that decision. Harry/Ginny, Harry & Teddy, even Harry & Andromeda would have made the story flow a little smoother than it has. But if you're thinking "Frickles you lazy ass, you should have put the extra work in!", please console yourself with the knowledge that I likely wouldn't have managed more than 30k words in a week if I had to account for an additional protagonist.
I hope everyone is still enjoying the fic!
Stay safe, happy, and healthy! ~Frickles