That scent of warm spices sifts in from the other room. Mum must be making that spiced rum cake Dad used to love so much. Grief thickens in her throat; he died only two months ago, caught by Snatchers a month before she gave birth to her son. In his cradle, Teddy stirs, keening softly in his crib. Above him, a mobile her dad made of miniature stuffed unicorns spins above his head, the plush creatures floating a couple feet above his head and sparkling faintly like gold. His crying gets louder, and Dora wants to sink further into her plush chair.
There's something frightening about Teddy, about the way she feels about that beautiful baby in this lilac-coloured onesie, how she knows she would die for him in a heartbeat. Something rises inside of her every time she looks at him, every time she thinks of him, every time she touches him, she knows she would do anything for him.
She's never felt this kind of love before for another person; her love for Remus is different. It's a warm, constant kind of love that pulses inside of her like a clock—their love is purified trust, like two children on a balance beam. Safe. Happy. Warm. With Teddy… She understands now why people say that motherhood changes you, because she's become a whole new person for this beautiful, beautiful baby. The love she feels for him is surprising and rich and overwhelming in a way she can't find the words for, the kind of love that clouds her mind and squeezes her heart. She would die for him. She would kill for him. She would carve out her own heart and soul for him. It's an unspeakable sort of love, something she sees in Remus' eyes when he holds him.
He starts to cry a little louder, and Dora leans over his crib, scooping him into her arms and cradling him gently against her chest. He's heavier than he was when he was born, and his arms flail a little before settles, heavy, against her breast. "Hey," she says, and his eyes train on hers as his wailing wanes. They're brown, a warm, tender sort of cinnamon brown, as they tend to be when he looks at her, so she knows he's okay. She uses her other arm to support his head, and she leans down to kiss his soft forehead. She hums gently, and she sinks to the floor with him, curling her legs up so that he can lay back against her thighs, making herself into a shield for him, embracing him with her entire self.
There's a song her father used to sing, an old Muggle song that her father grew up hearing. It always put her right to sleep when she was little, and Dora still sings it to soothe baby Teddy. "Once there was a way…" His crying starts to slow. "...to get back home…" He watches her like she's his miracle, and Dora rocks him gently. "Sleep, pretty darling...do not cry…" There's a tight pain lingering in her chest, but she doesn't know what it is. It seems like the world is falling apart at the seams, but her baby is the only thing that's true. Dad is gone, Mum is hollowed out, Voldemort reigns… She heard on Potterwatch that they'd been torturing children at the school. Her school. Taken over by murderers and terrorists, all while she… "..and I will sing a lulla..."
Teddy makes a small sound, and his tiny body moves against her chest; the tightness inside of her bubbles up and all at once she's crying, her tears sliding down her neck, lungs heaving, as she holds Teddy as close as she can, her face against his, and kisses him repeatedly. It's like every time she holds him again she's forgotten how impossibly wonderful it is. She can't stop crying, sobbing helplessly as she holds him, and soon her crying is so intense that she can scarcely breathe—every gasp of air turns into another sob, and the baby cries with her, wailing against her.
The lamp by the door flicks on with a click. "Sweetheart?" Remus is in the doorway, dressed in some ratty purple pajamas. He searches the room until he finds her sitting on the floor against the wall, holding Teddy "Why are you on the…" Dora only cries harder. "...floor?"
"I c-can't do it," she sobs, and she hiccups through her tears as her husband nears her. She must look like Teddy now, weepy-eyed and pink-cheeked.
Remus is a man with many wounds, and it takes him a little more effort to sit on the floor, but he does it nonetheless, wincing as he does so. "Do what, Dora?"
"L-leave him," she chokes out, and she holds her baby tighter. "I can't." She doesn't even know what she's talking about herself until she says it out loud, and the tightness inside of her grants her some reprieve. "He's… He's…"
"I know," answers Remus. He slides closer to her, and Teddy calms, his eyes returning to that warm brown as his father leans forward to kiss his head. "I don't want to, either."
"Th-then how—how can y—you—"
"Sweetheart," he starts. Dora shifts Teddy so that he's lying horizontally at her breast, cradled in her arms. "I'm… I'm really not certain of anything at the moment, but I know that I love you. And Teddy." He brushes her hair out of her eyes. "I don't know if we'll see a future where our son grows up safe. All I know...is that if we try, those odds get better. I have to make a better world for him—I have to keep him from growing up in a world like…" He shakes his head, determined. "...this one. I have to do what's right. I'm doing this for him."
That's one thing they can both agree on. Teddy can't grow up in this world, the world that murdered his grandfather, mutilated his father, and traumatized his mother, one that left millions terrified for their lives and thousands dead in the streets. "But what if…what if we…"
"If we fail…" Remus' eyes shine in the flickering light of the lamp. "...he'll have a wonderful grandmother to keep him safe. It's our job to protect him, sweetheart, and the only way I know how to do that is to fight for a world where he'll be safe. I don't know if we'll defeat...You-Know-Who..."
"You think we'll come home to him?"
Remus watches his son with melancholy, and then looks at her. "I don't know," he confesses. "But I have to fight, for his sake. I have to. I can't let him live through what I did—I can't. And I'll do everything in my power to make sure that he doesn't have to."
Dora sniffles. Teddy's calm now, resting comfortably in her arms, his warm mouth latched at her nipple, the fabric of her nightgown nudged aside. "You're right," she says quietly. "I can't—can't bear this—to leave him, but… I'd do anything to keep him from this...pain. He should never have to live like this."
"No." Her husband's voice breaks. "He shouldn't."
"We have to…"
"Yeah."
"Fuck." She tilts her head against Remus' shoulder, sniffling again. "I hate this."
Softly, Remus sighs. "Me, too." This time, he asks the question. "You think Teddy...will be okay? If we... " He doesn't finish his sentence.
She smiles for the first time that night, wiping at her wet face. "He's our son, Remus—he's gonna be a fucking badass."
He chuckles lightly. "Absolutely." He puts his arm around her shoulders, coming even closer to her, and they sit in the half-lit room, still, the only sound Teddy feeding lazily at her breast. Dora lets her eyes droop, and she leans into her husband's warm arms. Although she doesn't know what the next few weeks will bring, she knows that she and Remus will do everything they can to keep their precious Teddy safe.
Written for: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Challenges & Assignments) [Gryffindor]
Term 12 - Assignment #9: History of Magic: History of Magic in Ancient Greece, Extra Credit: Task #4 [Write about someone at a physical or metaphorical crossroads.]
Challenges: Disney Challenge [Themes:2], Showtime [7], Elizabeth's Empire [27], Lizzy's Loft [Songs:5, Characters:1, Words:3], Angel's Archive [19] Scamander's Case [12], Film Festival [14], Lyric Alley [13], Gobstones [Accuracy:11, Power:14, Technique:2], Days of the Year [May 2nd], Spring [1], Color [7], Tarot Cards [10], Earth Element [6], Hufflepuff [4], History of Spring [3], Insane [166], 366 [67], Geek Pride [Harry Potter], Murder Mystery [How:10], Jedi [3], International Worker's Day [Karl Marx:1, MoM:1], Say It With Flowers [Carnation], Writing Month [1335]
WC: [1335 words]