"Has the demise of the Dark Lord lulled you all into a false sense of security thus causing you to believe this course unnecessary?" Severus had asked every class he'd taught that day. "Or has Professor Lupin merely been coddling you all year?"

Unable to suppress a few scantily veiled comments about how he would have expected them to be further along in the material by now, Severus had walked countless laps around the room while he lectured them on Defence Against the Dark Arts and they took notes. He observed, with a mixture of bemusement and agitation, how his audience, for every period, remained on the edge of their seats, with eyes glued to him, and lips slightly parted like they were all fighting the urge to blurt out every thought currently crossing their minds. Though Professor Snape had always been skilled in the art of keeping a classroom engaged, controlled, and intimidated, this was something else altogether.

"What was it like to be a double agent working for Dumbledore, Professor? Is the rumour that Voldemort used Horcruxes true, sir? Professor Snape, was it very difficult to keep your adoption of Harry Potter a secret?"

Not an hour would pass without these questions and more being directed at him. Almost overnight Severus had transitioned from being a despised teacher into someone deeply admired for his courage and service, and although that made his bandaged heart soften slightly, he would never admit it.

"I'd advise all of you who think you know what happened on the day that he died to accept that you are probably wrong and that I don't have the remotest interest in remedying that," was his standard reply. "I am not here because I felt the sudden urge to discuss how I successfully infiltrated Lord Voldemort's inner circle on the orders of Albus Dumbledore. I am here because the Dark Arts will continue to exist and evolve for as long as there's magic and therefore you should still think it worth your while to understand its essences."

Severus didn't even try to disguise his passion for the Dark Arts anymore, teaching a defence of them almost as blatantly as defence against them. This most unexplored and unapproved branch of magic was responsible for terrible evil, it was true, but it was also Severus's knowledge of the Dark Arts that had enabled him to trap a curse inside Dumbledore's hand and blocked Lord Voldemort's access into Harry's mind. And Severus had talked openly about both those first-hand accounts in each of his lessons. Spellbounding his students as he lectured about one of his magical specialties and explained some of the ways he had used the Dark Arts for the Order of the Phoenix's gain during the war.

"To confront the Dark Arts, you need to be able to match them and manipulate them to serve your purposes," Severus had said, as his black robe billowed out behind him. "Nobility will not take you far. Being honorable and using predictable magic will not give you a fighting chance against such powers. The world isn't black and white."

Severus had never been able to be this transparently himself in all his adult life. He had nothing to hide anymore except for what he chose to keep private. The stakes were no longer lethal and his existence was not entirely set in mortal peril. He could teach from experience and take credit for the things he deserved recognition for.

So it was that he enjoyed a most satisfying and liberating first day back and had happily agreed to meet Sirius down in Hogsmeade for dinner and drinks when it was over. He just hadn't expected to be dragged along on such eccentric errands. Though by this point in their relationship, he shouldn't have been surprised.

"Obviously this is retaliation for being asked to wait until the weekend for a visit," Severus smirked, as he idled by the Post Office exit. "Nobody is going to appreciate having this clutter dropped on their doorstep."

Sirius, biting down on his tongue as he concentrated on tying an enormous bouquet of enchanted balloons to the leg of a proud looking tawny, didn't answer. It joined two others carrying matching displays, in addition to an overly large barn owl who was charged with guiding an enormous stuffed hippogriff onward to London. The witch behind the counter looked amused as she took in all of Sirius's exuberant mailings and they had already been there for several minutes.

"Just one final touch," Sirius muttered, plucking a postcard off the stand that displayed a glittering image of Hogwarts castle at nightfall.

"Could I borrow your quill, sir?" Sirius asked with a sly grin, already reaching into the deep pocket of Severus's robes to help himself to the self-inking quill that he knew from habit would be there.

"To Teddy Remus Lupin and his parents, with love from Uncles Sirius & Severus, and cousin Harry," Sirius dictated as he wrote out the short note. "There!"

"Adorable," Severus remarked dryly, crossing his arms as an almost stricken look came across his face.

It hadn't occurred to him until just this very moment that Remus and Tonks' baby was going to be anything to him, but of course, he should have known better. Just as he'd slowly adjusted to the constant presence of Harry's friends in his life, who spoke to him with the familiarity one would bestow upon adults they were close to, so he would grow into this new role and title he'd been granted. For while it had been something of a small miracle for him to have allowed Harry and Sirius into the inner workings of himself, that growth hadn't stopped at their own family unit. It had just been the beginning for a man that the entire wizarding world was yearning to shower with long overdue love and appreciation, and he would probably never get entirely used to it.

"Minerva is going to think I'm avoiding her," Severus said, when they finally left the Post Office and set off in the direction of The Three Broomsticks. "This is the third meal I've skipped in the Great Hall today."

"Where did you have lunch?" Sirius asked, tucking away the money pouch filled with gold galleons that he had brought out to pay for the owls.

"In my office with Draco," Severus replied, which was met with an understanding nod.

Providing Draco with the temporary escape that he was clearly in desperate need of was the only appropriate course of action that Severus had been able to see. In time, he hoped others would watch his example and realize that they were wrong to condemn a seventeen year old for mistakes that weren't even entirely his. Draco's allegiance to the Death Eaters was one that had been chosen for him, and turning away from what you've been taught all your life isn't as easy as the righteous would have you believe.

It would have been a good way to get all of the Malfoys killed and though dying for what is good is both honourable and respectable, it also results in senseless waste. Draco still deserved a chance to amount to something more than what he was and Severus would do whatever he could to make sure that he received that opportunity. Just like Dumbledore had done for him.

"It took a lot of guts for Draco to come back to school when he had to know the sort of welcome he'd be receiving," Sirius said fairly. "I'm glad that he has you - though Harry might not agree."

"He'll find it tolerable," Severus replied, his lips twitching as he recalled the deliberate way that Harry had avoided him until he could be sure to catch him outside the company of Draco Malfoy. Not that Severus could exactly blame Harry and wouldn't. Severus knew that his son had enough to cope with on his own without allocating sympathy to such a problematic individual. He just didn't allow that to influence whom he decided to engage with on his own.

"Harry was happy to hear that the baby had arrived safely," Severus shared, which was the news that he had gotten the privilege of breaking to Harry and his friends, who had dropped by his quarters at the end of the day's classes. Ginny had been especially elated and all of them were planning to visit London on Saturday for the celebration that would follow Teddy Lupin's Christening.

"Remus was almost in tears when he told me," Sirius laughed. "I think he's going to surprise himself and be a right natural. Even though when Harry was born it was like pulling teeth to get him to even hold him."

"Was Harry an agreeable baby?" Severus asked curiously, as they reached the entrance to the pub and he held open the door for Sirius to walk through first.

Usually he preferred not to think about the past but he found himself suddenly struck with a yearning to know about the early years of Harry's life where he never could have belonged. It was only through tragedy, his own mistakes, and Harry's forgiving heart that their family now had become possible. It was difficult to reckon with the family that Harry should have existed in, which is why he usually blocked it out. However, the promise of a new child born to parents who would have the typical childhood that Harry's should have mirrored had compelled Severus to open his mind a bit more. Lily had asked him to let her back in and it was all part of their son's story.

"Very sweet and content," Sirius shared, as they made their way over to a round table in the back. "Ate well, slept well, hardly fussed - all credit must go to Lily. She put him on a schedule from the day he was born. She said that babies thrive on routine - at least according to all the muggle parenting books she read during her pregnancy."

Severus diverted his gaze for a moment as he sank onto a wooden chair and imagined Lily and the ways she had set out to care for her baby. He knew what she valued. He knew that Lily would have raised Harry with strict expectations and a whole lot of love. She had been a force to be reckoned with when her temper was short and would have been keen on good behaviour and excellence in school. Combined with the athleticism and tornado forces that James Potter would have imputed, a Harry Potter raised by his natural parents would have been quite an endearing person indeed. And Severus felt recovered enough now to admit that.

"I'd have thought James would have resisted predictable schedules," Severus remarked once their drink orders had been placed and they were left alone again.

He spoke of James as though he were a past acquaintance instead of a bully who had tormented him throughout school. Things felt resolved now and Severus was alright. There were even photographs of James with Sirius, Lily, and Harry displayed openly in the house and it didn't hurt him. The reward of reconciliation and the coming together of hearts for a boy who mattered to all of them made a great deal of difference.

Sirius smiled gratefully. Always appreciative of an opportunity to discuss James and the good days that he'd forever miss. "Did I ever tell you of the time James and I decided to fly Harry up to touch a cloud? No, Lily did not find out about this…"

Sirius gave out a barking laugh as he described Harry's first flight on a broomstick with enthusiasm. Only an infant and already partaking in the sport that James Potter had loved and passed on to him. It was in his blood, and what wasn't in blood was in nature. The influences and personas that had shaped their son. It was impressive to consider all the factors that poured into a person and made them uniquely themselves. Not all of it was pleasant, but every bit was significant. And Severus had reached the point in his life when he could relax over a pint while his ears were filled with the adventures of someone he'd understandably despised. For the world wasn't black and white; and thank God for that.

XXX

Remus Lupin wasn't sure if he had ever been truly content in his life, but he was pleased to discover that cradling his newborn son was an unexpected exception. Unsure of how he was going to react at the birth of his child; whether his anxieties would be laid to rest or overcome him in a matter of minutes, Remus had been pleasantly surprised to feel nothing but unquivering joy and pure love at first sight.

"You take after mummy," he whispered, supporting his son's head and gently combing his fingers through the plentiful hair that was in the process of changing from ginger to a bright turquoise.

Andromeda had said that Tonks' hair had changed rapidly in her earliest hours just the same. It was easily the baby's most notable feature and he was otherwise too wrinkled and pink to tell if or how he resembled his father, which was more than fine with Remus. It pleased him to see his wife so prominently reflected in their son, though it was no use escaping the truth that this beautiful child was also half him. Whether or not he grew up to resemble his father as greatly as Harry matched James, he was always going to be half of Remus Lupin.

"I love you so much," his heart fluttering as if it had wings, Remus leaned over to kiss his sleeping son. Admiring how the baby's eyelashes flickered in sleep before he let out a sudden sneeze that startled him awake.

Bright blue eyes were immediately staring up at Remus and a pudgy little hand escaped from the tightly swaddled blanket. Remus tapped his pinky against the baby's palm and delighted when the whole hand closed instinctively into a tiny fist. The baby's lashes fluttered and though his lip trembled as if he were about to cry, he settled back into a state of relaxation when his father soothed him with a light bounce.

"I'm your Daddy, Teddy," Remus told him, rocking gently from side to side, "and I'm going to be a father that you can be proud of."

This newfound confidence exhilarated him when he'd been battling fear and feelings of inadequacy for the past nine months. The joy he was currently experiencing made all of that seem silly. As if happening to be a werewolf was almost insignificant in the grandness of the love Remus had to offer this child.

"And husband too," he added, with a glance at the four poster bed in the center of the room where his wife lay sleeping.

Tonks was dressed in a pair of fresh blue pajamas that she had changed into after the delivery and which matched her hair. Her belly rounded and soft, peeking out from under her buttoned top. She looked healthy, with rosy cheeks still flushed from the exertion of what she had been through that day. Remus would not soon forget the pain and strength his wife had demonstrated in bringing their son into the world that afternoon. The way she had moaned and worked through every contraction when the pains intensified, never once letting go of his hand. Her trust and security in him so absolute that it had made Remus determined to never give her a reason to doubt her faith in him again.

"Sleep when the baby sleeps," a sudden voice called from the doorway. "That's lesson one in the new parents' survival handbook, didn't anyone tell you?"

"But he's not asleep," Remus answered, smiling back down at his son who cooed up at him in the way that only babies can. "You're not asleep, are you Teddy? You're spending time with Daddy and leaving Mummy be for a few more minutes."

Andromeda eagerly crept across the floor to lean over Remus's shoulder and rest her hand on the baby's blankets. "Hi Teddy, how's Grandma's beautiful boy?" she asked him adoringly.

"I can't bear to put him down," Remus admitted, savouring the feeling of Teddy's hand still wrapped around his finger. Like they were already bonded and his son knew who he belonged to.

"Ted still can't get over the name," Andromeda said, rubbing her hand on Teddy's belly while he gurgled at them and they both smiled back.

"Dora wouldn't have had it any other way," Remus assured her, recalling the way his father-in-law's whole face had lit up when they'd told him mere hours ago that his grandson was to be named after him. It was what Tonks had wanted to do as soon as they'd learned they were having a boy. She had marked the baby's arrival as a celebration for the whole family, even while Remus had imagined them all to be holding their breaths while they waited to see if it would be anything like him.

"She always was a Daddy's girl," Andromeda replied, moving over to the bed to check on her sleeping daughter.

The labour and delivery had been long and exhausting. Tonks' mother had coached her through the birth, but Remus had barely left this room since it had begun. He'd remained dutifully at his wife's side all night and day, tending to their son the entire time between feedings so that Tonks could get as much rest as possible.

"She speaks just as highly of her mother," Remus offered kindly, watching as his mother-in-law pulled Tonks' blankets a little bit higher over her.

Smiling appreciatively at his words, Andromeda took out her wand and used it to replenish the glass on the nightstand with cold fresh water. One more casual flick and a plate of biscuits appeared. She'd been feeding Tonks and all of them very well since she'd arrived that morning. Molly Weasley had also sent over a basket for supper upon hearing the good news and Remus was just grateful to not have to cook for a few days.

"I always strived to do the opposite of what my parents did with me and my sisters," Andromeda shared, slipping her wand back into the pocket of her robes. "It got me a confident, feisty, and determined daughter who lives life on her own terms without worrying about whether I approve or not."

"That she certainly does," Remus agreed quietly, thinking of their wedding which had taken place without him daring to ask for either Andromeda or Ted's blessings.

"I didn't mean…" Andromeda stammered, her heavily lidded eyes flashing as she realized her mistake. "I meant joining the auror academy! I've been worried sick ever since. Sometimes I'm convinced she did it just to annoy me…."

Her voice trailed off awkwardly as Remus gave her a tight smile. They were nearly the same age and he had never been able to shake the guilt he felt over being responsible for their only daughter marrying a werewolf. Though neither of his wife's parents had ever been anything less than cordial to him, Remus felt to blame for the shame he assumed they must feel.

"I didn't approve of her choice of a husband either, you see?" he said in a quiet voice when he couldn't take the silence any longer. Teddy was still being rocked carefully in his arms with bright eyes staring up at him unblinkingly. Remus quickly kissed the baby's forehead before continuing.

"I love your daughter very much but I persistently told Dora that she could find someone much better than me," he turned to look Andromeda right in the eye.

"Remus, that isn't what I was implying at all," she shook her head. "We're not that different, you know?"

"I attempted to break things off with Ted many times in the beginning, just like you with Nymphadora," she said, taking a few steps closer to him again. "I did that because I thought I'd be doing him a favour. I come from a deranged family who would have happily watched Voldemort slaughter him if it had succeeded in keeping us apart. So, I'm not someone to judge another person over something that they cannot control."

Swallowing a lump in his throat, Remus readjusted Teddy in his arms so that he was over his shoulder. Rubbing firm circles on his back, bringing up any air that might be there. He could feel a damp spot on his shirt from drool as the baby began rooting. Looking for a feeding, Remus stood up with Teddy still held against his shoulder and moved over to the edge of the bed to wake Tonks up.

"Making respectable pureblood marriages was all that our parents expected from us," Andromeda continued. "Bellatrix wed Rodolphous immediately after leaving Hogwarts and I was supposed to be next…only after I walked out on the family, my parents arranged with the Malfoys for Narcissa to marry their son instead of me."

Remus wasn't sure what he had been expecting her to say, but it certainly hadn't been that. He looked back at her as she smiled sheepishly.

"I've always felt a bit guilty about that," she confessed, tucking a strand of curly black hair behind her ear. "Like Narcissa's life is my fault."

"But it isn't," Remus told her quietly, shaking Tonks' shoulder and subsequently concluding this rather enlightening conversation.

"Mr. Man, are you hungry?" Tonks yawned, sitting up automatically before she'd even opened her eyes.

"I think he is," Remus replied, carefully transitioning Teddy into his mother's waiting arms. Smiling at the way his son began to root all the more fervently as Tonks helped him latch onto her breast.

"Such a good boy, aren't you?" Tonks praised Teddy as he nursed, her blue hair changing to the brightest shade of pink. "And Grandpa kept trying to scare mummy with stories of my difficult babyhood, but you're just a little angel, aren't you?"

"For now," Andromeda told her with a wink, as Remus remained perched on the bed.

He was admiring what a natural mother Tonks was. The way the baby just melted into her and fixated on her face. While Tonks stroked his foot lovingly through the blankets and seemed to relax back against the headboard while she fed him. Adorably unphased by all the changes, Remus was so transfixed on watching her, that he didn't notice Andromeda was getting ready to leave until she came over to kiss her daughter goodbye.

"I suppose we'll be back bright and early for breakfast," she told them. "Daddy said something about cake?"

"Yeah," Tonks nodded. "You know those little chocolate cakes that he always used to make on special occasions? I just might have suggested that we keep the tradition going with breakfast tomorrow."

Andromeda declared that a lovely idea, but Remus thought that she seemed distracted when she left a few minutes later. Narcissa was clearly still a sensitive subject, and Remus wondered if the sisters had been in touch at all. Though he decided not to mention anything about it to Tonks, as he adjusted himself into a more comfortable position on the bed next to her.

"Thank you for giving me a son," he kissed her cheek. "For not giving up on me."

"How could I have given up when I knew that you were the only man for me?" Tonks replied, and there was nothing left for Remus to do but catch her lips with his and kiss her again.

Allowing himself to acknowledge how much he had wanted this for so long and that Andromeda had been right to say that they weren't so different. Both had needed to contend with their own baggage before they could reap the rewards of what surely surpassed all other kinds of magic. A family; a wife and a child to cherish for the rest of his life. Remus intended to be everything he could be for them, because they were everything to him.