Smiling fondly from his place in goals, Harry watches Teddy dribble the football down the field towards him, his sandy eyebrows drawn together into an adorably serious expression. Victoire's feet nip at his heels as she tries to steal the ball, her blonde ponytail trailing out behind her in the breeze. Behind them, Fred sprints forward, but his attempts to offer Teddy assistance are hindered by Angelina's tight defence.
Harry shuffles to the left as if to cover the area he thinks Teddy will aim for, accidentally-on-purpose leaving the far corner of the goalpost undefended. He and Fleur, who's playing goalie down the other end, have a standing agreement not to block properly when the kids go for a goal. Aiming alone is challenging enough for them.
Victoire almost knocks the ball away from Teddy, but he swings his foot hard at the last second. Harry lunges to the right, but the football whizzes past his ear and collides with the back netting with a thud. He hits the grass hard and smiles at the broad grin that spreads over Teddy's face.
Whooping loudly, Teddy races forward and throws himself onto Harry's stomach. The air rushes from his lungs at the impact, and his congratulations spills out with splutters and stops. It's all worth it, though, as Teddy's shifts from sandy blonde to neon orange to forest green, as if he's so excited he can't control his powers. 'Did you see my goal? I didn't know if I could keep ahead of Victoire, but then there was an opening, and I — '
Harry laughs, caught up in Teddy's unbridled joy. After all the turmoil Teddy went through months ago, terrified that he wouldn't be able to live up to the memory of his parents, Harry treasures every moment he gets to see him unfiltered and happy like this. 'Saw it? I felt it.'
Their timer buzzes like a qyerma cry, signalling the end of the game. At the other end of the field, Fleur transfigures both of the goalposts back into sets of trees.
'We lost,' Victoire says, frowning, as the others gather around them.
'Only by one.' Angelina nudges her with her elbow. 'We'll get 'em next time, don't worry. But first, dinner.'
'This football thing isn't half-bad,' Fred notes. 'Even if it is played on the ground.'
'Told you.' Harry waits for Teddy to stand then pushes himself from the ground. After seeing a game of football on the telly the other week, Teddy was adamant about wanting to try it, which meant roping some of the Weasleys into a match during their weekly catch-up.
Victoire sets her hands on her hips and squares her shoulders. 'I bet you five round pebbles I can beat you back to the house.'
Teddy crosses his arms. 'Ten.'
'Deal.' With that, she sprints off towards the towering Burrow in the distance, ignoring Teddy's cry of indignation as he rushes to make up for her head start.
She must really be smarting from the loss if she's willing to risk ten whole pebbles on payback. Ever since the kids began collecting stones and rocks, they've had a thing about finding ones that are perfectly symmetrical.
'Of course,' Harry says, thinking back to Fred's comment, 'it's not as good as Quidditch.'
'What is?' Angelina asks rhetorically.
As Teddy and Victoire thunder up the path to the house, Harry can think of one thing that's better by far: family. Something he's always dreamed of and finally has, and something Teddy will never have to learn to live without.