"Where have you been?"
Harry's voice took on a higher pitch than usual. Ginny had told him to come upstairs with her, that Teddy would come home eventually. She was sure he was in no danger. That, or her recent lack of sleep had caught up to her, leaving her with no choice but to turn in early. Harry had no such luck.
He'd been pacing a hole into the floor of the sitting room, just in front of the fireplace. The logical part of him was sure Teddy would be home at any minute, but there was another part of him that was too effectively trained by the war and years as an Auror. This part of him wove stories in his mind—Teddy lost, kidnapped, being tortured somewhere, dead. The fear was too real for him to shake.
But Teddy returned home as the clock struck one a.m. He dusted himself off as he exited the Floo, then looked up at Harry's voice.
At least he had the grace to look ashamed. "Sorry," he said, trying to keep his voice low. Teddy knew that waking anyone else in the house wouldn't exactly help his case. "We lost track of time, I didn't realize how late it was getting."
Harry had his arms crossed, one eyebrow raised. "You didn't even tell us you'd left the house."
Teddy set his jaw. Tensions had been running high in the Potter household already. Harry's own kids were getting into their usual mischief. Teddy's gran died at the end of last term. It was a lot, and it was really taking a toll on both of them.
"I'm almost of age. How come I can go where I'd like when I'm at school, but as soon as I get here I need your approval to do anything?" Teddy clenched and unclenched his fists, not quite meeting Harry's eyes.
Harry sighed. "Sit down, Teddy. Please," he added when the boy refused to move.
Begrudgingly, he walked across the sitting room and dropped down onto the sofa. Harry took a seat in the armchair. He turned to look at Teddy. "Look," Harry said, breathing deeply. "It's not that you need permission to go anywhere. I don't want to—to impose any more restrictions than you're used to. I just want to know where you're at. I don't want to worry if I check your room and you're not there."
Teddy's eyes were fixed on his hands. It didn't look like he was ready to say anything, so Harry continued. "You know I've always thought of you like a son, Teddy. And when your gran—"
"Don't," he choked out. Harry hesitated. "Don't talk about it, please." Teddy swallowed, then turned his head up to face Harry. He didn't look in his eyes. "I'm gonna go to bed, I think…"
"Wait, Teddy."
Teddy froze after standing. "I thought you weren't going to tell me what I could and couldn't do." His tone was cold; Harry had to convince himself that it was the grief talking.
"I'm not, I just want—"
"You're not my dad. Quit acting like it, please, Harry." There was a hint of desperation to his voice. He dashed upstairs to his room. Harry could hear the door slam from down in the sitting room. He sighed, pushing himself to his feet and following Teddy.
He knocked on the door, waiting. "Teddy, please. Can we talk?"
There was a long silence before, to Harry's disbelief, the door opened. Teddy's eyes were red-rimmed, his cheeks tearstained. His hair had shifted from his typical bright blue to a subdued brown. The resemblance to Remus gave Harry pause.
Teddy didn't say anything but moved into the room. He left the door open behind him, which Harry took as an invitation to enter. Teddy sank down onto his bed.
Harry joined him, taking a seat at the foot of the bed. On the blanket between them, an old photo album lay open. The current page showed a photo of the Marauders, their arms slung around each other and wide grins on each of their faces. Harry felt a pang in his chest at the image. He looked at Teddy. The boy wiped his nose on the sleeve of his jumper. "He would've been so proud of you, you know."
With a sniffle, Teddy finally met Harry's eyes.
"I know I'm incredibly proud of you." Teddy gave him a weak smile at this. Harry looked again at the photo album. He'd made it for Teddy when he was young. Harry'd been inspired by the similar gift Hagrid had given him, all those years ago. He turned the pages gently, eventually reaching a photo of Teddy, fresh out of his first year at Hogwarts.
So much had changed in the past five years. As Harry looked down at the cheerful little boy, crisp yellow-and-black tie and untidy purple hair, he thought of nothing but the young man that sat beside him.
"I'm sorry, Harry. I shouldn't have—"
Harry shook his head, a small smile on his lips. "Don't be." Teddy opened his mouth to argue, but Harry just smiled back at him. "Trust me, I was a lot more trouble when I was your age. I'm not upset. But I do think we need to have a good conversation about all this."
Teddy nodded, biting his lip.
"When…" He sighed. "When you were born, when your parents made me your godfather, they wanted me to be here for you. To take care of you when they couldn't. I—I didn't really get that same opportunity when I was in your place. And I love you too much to fail you there."
He gave Harry a weak grin. "Love you, too," he muttered. "Even when I'm being an arse. Sorry."
Harry chuckled. "Get some sleep, kid." Teddy nodded, and Harry rose to leave. He looked back at the doorway; Teddy was once again engrossed in the photo album. With the door closed behind him, Harry closed his eyes briefly. "I hope I'm doing things right down here, Remus," he whispered.
.
A/N: Written for Assignment 2 – Folklore 10: Write about a rocky relationship with a step-parent;
Bath Bomb 2: (character) Harry Potter, 11: (character) Teddy Lupin;
Writing Club – Book Club: Satoru: (genre) Hurt/comfort; (object) Photo album, (house) Hufflepuff;
Showtime 15: (relationship) Parent and child;
Angel's Arcade C3: (genre) Hurt/comfort;
Wc 1021