A/N: Well, despite the fact that someone said I should count 6,987 votes in their review of The Mirror of Souls, I'm going to call this story the clear winner, and I will be continuing this one. However, due to the enthusiasm expressed for both of the other two stories, I will likely finish them as well — not simultaneously, but I will probably begin posting the continuation of Scars as soon as Going Home is finished (that one seemed to be everyone's "second choice"), and follow it up with MoS. I will need a little time to finalize the details of this story and get further along in the writing, so chapters 3-? may take a while. Once I have a good outline written up, I will go back to my once-weekly posting awesomeness. :) Enjoy chapter 2!
Chapter Two
Here's to Orphans
Life moves too fast.
I got up from the bed where Ginny and I spent the night on my nineteenth birthday and located my NEWT scores so I could take them down to the Ministry to register for the Auror training programme. Then things began to happen so quickly that it became a blur. Now I'm dropping into a seat to take a deep breath, and I'm realising that the birthday party in question was three years ago. My first unsupervised assignment as a full-fledged Auror was today, and it was a smooth, incident-free arrest of a guy who was spelling the sale items in a department store to attack the shoppers.
Three years just went by? Really?
Yeah. Has to be true. I'm twenty-two, I remember making a big deal out of how old I'm getting for a dead guy (no, doctor, I'm not avoiding traumatic events in my life through humour), and I've finally completed my training programme. I tell myself that it's hardly surprising that I missed the passage of time. I've been busy. Work has taken up a lot of time, and so has staying in touch with my friends. I've been trying to keep up with my girlfriend's busy life as the star Chaser of the Holyhead Harpies, and I travel to watch her play when I can.
I don't have time to sit here and contemplate the whirlwind of the past three years, though. Andromeda is calling from the fireplace to make sure she's clear to come through, so I wave her through. She arrives with a whoosh a moment later, one arm firmly pressing Teddy against her and the other clutching a large bag.
"Hello, Harry," she says formally, stepping clear of the fireplace.
"Hello, Miss Andromeda," I reply politely, though I'm dying to point out that there's not really any need to stand on ceremony around here.
I wouldn't have gotten more than two words out, anyway, because here comes Teddy. He crashes against me, throws his arms around me, and burrows his head under my arm. I give him a good, long hug in return, ruffling his hair, which is nice and normal and brown today.
"Hi, Harry," he says cheerfully, tilting up his head to look at me.
"Hi, Bug," I answer, chucking him under the chin. I see Andromeda is just standing there with a severe look, so I reckon that whatever she's waiting to say is nothing Teddy needs to hear. "Take your bag up to your room and get it unpacked, okay? I want to talk to your grandma for a minute, then you can say goodbye to her."
Teddy grabs the bag from Andromeda, which is far too heavy for him. I cast a Lightening Charm on it so he can lug it upstairs, and he gives me a disgusted look.
"I can carry it without help."
"Oh, I know," I say in my most casual voice. "I'm just practising that charm for work."
It's a good enough excuse; I've been constantly practising spells around the house all through my training. Sad, how I'd always thought school would be over when I left Hogwarts.
"What did you pack all that for?" I ask Andromeda with amusement. "He's got clothes and toys and everything here already."
"I just wanted to make sure he was prepared," Andromeda answers, but she does look a bit embarrassed. She probably didn't think about all the things I keep for Teddy here at the house. She's nothing if not over-prepared and over-protective of him.
"Prepared for a siege," I chuckle as I hear the bag thumping up the stairs. "Anyway, is something wrong?"
Andromeda looks uncertain, which is something I don't often see from her. She's too self-possessed to reveal uncertainty, most of the time.
"I'm not sure I should leave."
"But he's spent the night plenty of times before," I protest.
"This is such a long time, though. It's different."
"It's a week. We're going to be fine, I promise. You know I won't let him come to any harm."
Andromeda doesn't look convinced. "I'm not worried about that. I'm just worried that he'll become ill. You can't be expected to know how to deal with a sick child."
I hadn't forgotten about this, but I didn't really include it in my plans for the week. I should have. Teddy was a colicky baby, and he's been a sickly child. He's forever coming down with a fever and having to stay in bed for a day or two. His Healer has assured Andromeda many times that some children just go through a phase like this, and that they grow out of it. Teddy's five years old, but he hasn't grown out of it yet.
I hear thumping upstairs, and a giggle. Kreacher appears, looking pained.
"You may have the rest of the day off," I tell him, knowing he is looking for permission to retreat from the noise of a rambunctious child.
Hasn't grown out of it, but doesn't let being sickly slow him down, either.
"You shouldn't worry about it," I tell Andromeda firmly. "Even if he does get sick, which I don't think he will, I can take care of him. I know what to do for a fever, and I know Molly will have some advice if I need it. Not to mention the fact that you told me how to contact the Healer who's seen him, and how to contact you. You need a holiday, Andromeda. Just enjoy it. We'll be fine."
She's obviously not ready to do this, but I herd her toward the door, talking all the while about the fun we'll have. Teddy's never been away from her for a minute, unless he's with me. That's been rather infrequent, with how busy I've been, and I'm anxious for Teddy to have some "guy time." Andromeda understands how it is, since her daughter went through this training, but I hate disappointing Teddy—and I want to toughen the kid up a little, I have to admit. He spends most of his time with his worrywart of a grandmother, and I don't want to have another Neville on my hands when it's time for him to start school.
So, I usher Andromeda out and tell her to have fun on her Mediterranean cruise, and close the door behind her, then lock it and lean against it for good measure. I am smiling. A week of just being guys. It should be fun. I wouldn't have thought so a couple of years ago, when Teddy was potty-training, and I would have been freaked by this when Andromeda first started taking him to a Healer about being sick so much. But we're used to things, now. And I have plans.
I hurry upstairs to make sure that Teddy is okay unpacking the completely unnecessary things Andromeda put together. He already has clothes here, and toys and games, since he has spent the night. I find Teddy carefully setting a pair of mittens on his nightstand, and I wonder what on earth he is doing with mittens in the summer.
"What are those for?"
Teddy looks embarrassed and mumbles something, and I wonder if they're his version of a security blanket. I decide not to ask him to repeat himself, and let him have his privacy. Every boy, even a very young one, needs a little of that. He reaches into his bag and pulls out a small stack of books, which he puts on the shelf where his toys and things are. He gives me a shy look, just a peek through the fringe of his hair, really, and I grin in return. He's obviously very proud of having these books along, and he wants me to see that he's learning how to read. I pick one up.
"Oh, a Quidditch story!" I say with as much enthusiasm as I can without making him think I'm faking it. I am proud, actually, learning to read is quite an accomplishment and I'm glad Andromeda has taught him so soon. "Is it any good?"
Teddy nods so that he looks like an eager puppy. His eyes grow round, ready to impress me. "I could read it to you."
"That would be great," I answer, sitting down on the bed. "I'd love to hear it."
Teddy frowns at me. "I'm s'posed to unpack."
I give him a lazy smile. "You know how Grandma is on holiday this week? That means you're on holiday, as well. You're only supposed to have fun."
Teddy is very wide-eyed at this. Grandma can be a bit strict, from what I've seen. I just don't have it in me to be strict on anybody who isn't planning to duel Dark wizards. He grabs the book happily, but gives me another shy look through his hair instead of opening it.
"Don't you have to work, Harry? I can read by myself."
Oh. Ouch. Well, damn. I've been busier than I realised. I know I've neglected my godson some, but I didn't think he'd gotten so used to it. He's actually expecting me to leave him here alone while I run off to the Ministry? I am the worst godfather ever. And I had better start making up for it right now, because I couldn't look Remus and Tonks in the eyes at this point.
"No, I don't," I say, putting an arm around him and pulling him into my side. "At least, not much. Tomorrow I have to work a bit, but you'll get to see your Auntie Molly at the Burrow."
"And Uncle Percy?"
Yeah, he really likes Percy. Go figure.
"No, probably not, Bug. You remember, he married Miss Audrey and they have their own house to live in, now."
Teddy nods, a bit crestfallen.
"But," I continue, knowing the next piece of information will help, "you know what we're going to do the day after tomorrow?"
He shakes his head. "Tell me!" he demands, bouncing a little.
"We're going to spend the whole day together, and we'll go to Diagon Alley." Yes, I got the day off the same week as my first assignment. Sometimes it really does pay to be Harry Potter. I usually don't like the special treatment, but I happen to think this is for a good cause.
He bounces some more. "Really, Harry?"
Okay, the amount of excitement is just piling the guilt on even thicker. It shouldn't be so amazing and unexpected for me to take him out once in a while, even if my job is demanding and my girlfriend is hard to keep up with. Okay, maybe it should be amazing, but that just means I should be an amazing godfather.
"Yes," I assure him. "We'll go visit George's store, and we'll get some treats for my owl, and maybe we'll even have ice cream."
Teddy is enraptured. "Can we get lunch from Miss Hannah, Harry? Please?"
"Of course lunch at the Leaky Cauldron, that goes without saying. But that's two whole days away, Bug. We have things to do today, first."
"Like what?"
"Well, I very much want to have you read me this story. Then I think we should go downstairs and make ourselves dinner, and after we do that, we could listen to the radio and play games until your bedtime. What do you say?"
"Okay," he says, happy as a niffler in a Gringotts vault. He cracks open his book and takes on a very self-important posture. "'When Kevin was a litt-le boy, he dream-ed of being the best Quidditch pla-yeer the world had ever seen . . ." His reading is halting, stumbling through words he doesn't know, but displaying a remarkable level of patience and determination. I am utterly enthralled by the story, not because poor Kevin who didn't own a broom is particularly intriguing, but because it's magical to have a little boy whose nappies I was forced to change become old enough to read aloud. And this long-suffering manner of his, trudging through the difficult words because he is bound and determined to prove his academic prowess . . . he's his father's son, right enough. I just know Remus was exactly like Teddy when he was this age.
We go down to the kitchen afterward, and Teddy climbs into a kitchen chair with a toy hippogriff to play with. If it was Kreacher cooking, Teddy would have played in his bedroom, but he likes to watch me when I do. I have other ideas, tonight.
"Teddy, how would you like to help me?"
He gives me that round-eyed look that I love so much, this surprised and pleased look that says he wasn't expecting such consideration but adores you for giving it to him. He's so easy to please, it's almost pathetic.
"I can set the table, like at home," he offers cautiously.
"Why don't we set the table together, and then you can help me cook?"
"I can?"
"Yes, it's going to be fun."
Teddy is thrilled, which amuses me to no end. Cooking is not thrilling, not in the least. Which is why I tend to let Kreacher do it when I get tired of bologna sandwiches and packaged soup. But I like to cook for Teddy, and it's high time he started learning. I was already making whole meals by myself when I was his age. I reflect somewhat ruefully that my life isn't exactly the standard to judge by, but I think Teddy is really excited to do something that he's only seen grownups do. (Ha! Me, a grownup?)
"Okay. I think we'll make some fried potatoes and sausages, how does that sound?"
"Yummy," he says sincerely.
"Good," I answer, and give him a potato to peel. Luckily I have acquired a peeler, since I'm not about to give a little kid like him a knife. I can only imagine the newspaper the next day if I show up at St. Mungo's with my godson in one hand and a pile of his severed fingers in the other. Personally, I had to use a knife when I was young, but nicking my fingers didn't get me any sympathy, it got me a cuff on the back of the head for getting blood in the food and wasting it. I got good at using a knife pretty quick.
Teddy manages to nick one of his fingers, even with the "safe" peeler, and immediately begins to sniffle. I am still thinking about my own early years, and I am determined that Teddy will never have to wonder if his family gives a shit about him. It's tough being an orphan, you know? You get to wondering if anybody wants you, and . . . well. Maybe that was just me. Still, better not to take chances.
"Come here," I say, picking him up and settling in a chair with him in my lap. "Let's see." It is a very tiny cut, hardly even bleeding. "Oh, that's awful," I say, poking out my lower lip in imitation of his own expression. "Does it hurt terribly?"
He nods his head gravely. "I'll be fine," he says, trying to sound dignified but instead sounding tearful.
I kiss the injured digit with similar gravity. "I'll fix it right up," I promise, and tap his finger with my wand. An extensive part of my training has dealt with in-the-field medical emergencies, and Aurors are expected to be able to give mild to moderate aid to their partners. Even if Teddy had actually cut off his fingers, I probably could have attached them. Although I imagine I'd have been panicking instead. There is a huge difference between a grown man getting injured and a little kid you're supposed to be taking care of, after all.
Teddy is not in the least amazed by my work, but he does say thank you when he hops down from my lap. I'm glad he's grown up around magic and that he isn't surprised by such things. I don't think my own introduction to the wizarding world was particularly good (there are, in fact, still things that startle me sometimes) and I am glad Teddy doesn't have to come into it like that. Although I'm sort of dreading the inevitable day he steals my wand and tries to use it, something both Andromeda and Molly assure me every wizard child does at some point.
After that, dinner preparations are smooth, and we eat with gusto. Teddy believes that the food tastes better than usual, because of his help, and I assure him that I never would have managed without his assistance. (It's almost true—if he hadn't been here, I would have made do with peanut butter.) Then we retreat to the sitting room, where we can play. This is where I keep a few books I've received as gifts, along with the texts I have read during my training. It doesn't contain any old textbooks because I donated those back to school.
On sudden impulse, I clear off one of the lowest bookshelves and consolidate everything higher up.
"What are you doing, Harry?"
"Making some room. Now that you are learning to read, you'll need a place to put your books."
"I just have the ones I brought over," he objects.
"I bet you'll have more soon, so I want to be ready. You should have a special place in here for yours."
Teddy is beaming at that. I decide not to tell him that the reason I am so certain of his needing this shelf is because Hermione will eventually find out his new talent. And then there will be gifts from her, and things will steadily move beyond my control. Poor Teddy.
Tonight, though, is not for learning. Tonight is for fun. So we play Go Fish (which, as we are wizards, includes some very real and very theatrical fish) and listen to the radio. I contemplate the idea of moving into a house with electricity so I can introduce Teddy to the concept of the telly. Then I think about how obsessed most Muggles are with the box, and I decide this might not be such a good idea. It's funny, now that I think about it. When I left my aunt and uncle's home for the last time at age seventeen, I voluntarily gave up television, computers, electric light, and dishwashers, and I haven't missed any of it. I still really want to learn how to drive a car, which I haven't done yet, but none of the rest of it has ever seemed that important.
I guess I was cut out to be a wizard, all along.
"Teddy Lupin, you come here and give me a hug," Hannah demands, and Teddy is only too happy to rush behind the counter to comply. He's the only patron I know that is allowed to cross that sacred barrier, but Hannah is a pushover for Teddy. Actually, I think she's a pushover for all little kids, but not too many of those come into the Leaky Cauldron, to be honest.
"Hi, Hannah," I say, leaning on the bar, knowing better than to think she loves me enough to let me cross behind the counter.
"Afternoon, Harry," she says. There is flour all over her apron, but her hair is perfect, as always. Neville has confided in me that her beautiful hair is half the reason he fell in love with her. And thinking of Ginny and her waves of burnished red hair, I can very much relate. "What are the two of you up to?"
"We're having an outing!" Teddy announces, releasing her from the hug and coming back around to my side of the bar. He, too, knows Hannah better than to think he's allowed to overstay his welcome back there. She doesn't own the place—yet—but it is unanimously agreed that she's in charge. "We get to shop and maybe have ice cream if I'm good!"
Hannah raises an eyebrow at me. "I do hope ice cream is not your idea of lunch."
"I am perfectly capable of feeding Teddy, whatever you are implying," I say in a very put-on hurt voice. But I smile at her. "Why do you think we came in?"
Hannah rolls her eyes. "Silly me, to think you might stop in just to say hello."
"We came to see you, Miss Hannah!" Teddy insists.
"That's right," I nod.
"Cause you're the best cook ever."
"Well, that, too," I grin.
Hannah can't fake the offended attitude for very long, since Teddy's enthusiasm is quite complimentary. She begins brushing the flour off her apron.
"Well, Teddy, I have been making some very delicious beef pasties. How would that suit you?"
He gives her that big-eyed look, and she's just as taken in by him as I am. Totally not fair, the way he can do that.
"Yes, please, Miss Hannah," he says politely. And I am glad, despite how much I wanted this boy's-only week with him, that Andromeda has the primary raising of him. I never would have managed to instill any manners in him.
"Harry?"
"Sounds perfect," I say.
"Why don't you two sit down at that table in the corner, there? Neville said he was going to stop in for lunch, and you can all sit together."
Teddy is excited to find out that Neville will be here, and I'm rather pleased, myself. He, Hannah, and Luna are the only friends I'm still hanging onto from our school days (except Hermione and the Weasleys, of course), and I don't actually see him that often. In fact, Neville comes in only a moment later, before we even make our way over to the table.
"Oh, hello," he says when he sees us. "Didn't expect to run into the two of you!"
"Neville." I greet him with a nice, manly handshake. It still feels a little bit weird, the two of us being fully-grown adults now. But Neville ended up being a lot more fully-grown than me. I tell myself I am not jealous of his height and muscles, because being short and wiry is why I was such a good Seeker. But since I'm not a Seeker anymore, and I am in a job where looking intimidating is helpful, my attempts to not be jealous don't work too well. Ah, well, can't have everything, can I?
Teddy says hello, and tries to shake Neville's hand, but my friend just laughs and pulls Teddy into a hug. Neville's not the most demonstrative guy, but maybe it's just how cute Teddy is. Really, who wouldn't love it if the Bug was squeezing them and giving them those adoring eyes? I sharply remind myself that I am not a sap, and Aurors do not find small children cute. Okay, not most small children.
Neville leans over the bar and kisses his fiancee with joy, and she shoos us over to the table and sends us a pasty each floating across the room, laughing when we have to reach up and snatch it before it goes past our table. Teddy digs in happily, but I try to demonstrate some level of decorum. It's kind of hard, because Hannah really is a fantastic cook.
"How's your training going, Harry? I feel like I haven't talked to you in ages."
"You probably haven't," I grimace. "But all that keeping my nose to the grindstone paid off! I had my first solo mission this week."
"That's great! How'd it go?"
"Perfect!" I declare, then my mouth is too full to speak again for a minute. When I do, I change the subject. "What about you, how's work?" I am pretty sure he's still at the nursery, but don't want to embarrass myself. It must be a few months since we last spoke.
"Good," Neville says, shrugging. "I got promoted, so I—"
"You got promoted again? That's brilliant? What are you, the owner of the nursery by now?"
Neville was obviously trying to skip right past this and just describe something he has been doing, but I won't let him. I know how self-deprecating he can be, but he should have a few accolades for his accomplishments.
"No, nothing like that. Just a general manager, overseeing a few things, you know."
"Congratulations," I tell him earnestly.
Teddy looks up from his meal, gravy smeared on his chin, to say, "Congramblations, sir."
"Teddy, you can call me Neville," he says with embarrassment.
"Okay." That is apparently satisfactory enough, because he goes straight back to attacking his meal.
"Have you told Ginny your training is over?"
I shake my head slowly, and I feel that strange tripping in my heart, the same feeling I've been getting every time I think about Ginny this week. "She has a game tomorrow that I'm going to attend, and I was going to tell her then."
"Harry, are you blushing?" he asks incredulously.
"No," I answer automatically, even though I can feel it in my cheeks.
"You are so, Harry," Teddy speaks up. "You said no lying, that's the rules."
I had indeed made one of the rules of the house that Teddy couldn't lie to me, and so I can't lie to him—a rule I made, incidentally, when I found out he'd been lying about needing to pee and then Kreacher ended up having a very distasteful cleaning task and being surly with me for an entire week. And the rule has worked out pretty well. But I could strangle the Bug, at the moment.
"Well, I've been thinking . . . I'm an official Auror now, and everything. Maybe it's time for me to . . . well, to ask her . . ."
Neville is wide-eyed. "Are you going to propose?"
I nod mutely, and stuff a big bite of my pasty into my mouth so I won't have to say anything else for a minute. I've been thinking about this all week. Now that I have a steady job, one with a regular schedule, it might be time for me to do this. But that doesn't mean I'm ready to talk to Neville about it. But now I feel stupid. Who else should I talk to about it? Neville's engaged! I suppose I was thinking I should tell Ron first, but Ron already knows I mean to, and he'll start feeling pressured to ask Hermione and that makes him snap at me.
"Yeah, I just think it's time," I finally say.
Neville gives me a strange look. "Aren't you excited about it?"
I shrug. "Honestly, I feel like I'm going to puke every time I think about it. Which isn't all that romantic, you know? But we've already said . . . I mean, I know she's going to say yes, so why am I so worried about it? Did you feel like this when you asked Hannah?"
Now it's Neville's turn to blush. "Well, it was more like . . . okay, I was scared half to death. I actually had to say to myself, 'You told Voldemort to go to hell, you can ask Hannah a question.' Stupid, right?"
"No," I mutter. I believe I told myself something very similar a few days ago, when I graduated the training programme and realised what it meant. In fact, I think what I said was, "You were ready to die for her and now you can't even hand her a ring?" So I definitely see where Neville is coming from. "Do you think it's supposed to be this scary?" I ask him. Yet another one of the questions I never got to ask my own father, I think to myself. I've been running into more and more of those the older I get, somehow. I thought there would be less.
Neville shrugs. "I thought it was just because I'm sort of a coward," he confesses.
I can't help but laugh, and I almost choke on the flaky crust of my food. "Neville," I wheeze, tears in my eyes, "you are anything but that."
Neville looks genuinely confused.
"Told Voldemort to go to hell?" I remind him.
He looks far more cheerful then. I try not to roll my eyes. I had thought he'd grow out of this phase, especially now that he's getting married. But he's the same old Neville, surprised as hell every time he does something right. Well, okay, he's not that bad anymore, but he does still have a sort of low opinion of himself. Which means he must be frighteningly good at his job, because he didn't get promoted due to his confidence.
Teddy has successfully made a right mess of his meal, and he's watching us with a deep frown on his face. I don't like that look he's wearing.
"What is it, Bug?"
"You said my mummy and daddy died because some mean people killed them."
I nod slowly, feeling an ache. I have always wished I had been told what really happened to my own parents earlier than I was. But now I wonder if thinking it was a car accident might not have been a kindness to me. Teddy's too young to have these things on his mind.
"They worked for a bad man named Voldemort who told them to kill my parents."
I nod again.
"Voldemort is the bad man who killed your mummy and daddy, Harry."
"Yes," I answer, not sure where this is going. Neville looks horrified.
Teddy turns to Neville. "You said a bad word to him?"
Neville turns deep red. "I was very . . . angry, at the time."
Teddy suddenly jumps out of his chair and comes around the table to give Neville a big hug. "You're cool, just like Harry," he says.
And I start laughing, letting out that ache and tension. Yes, Neville really is cool, way more so than I am. Look what he did with the DA while I was out tromping through the woods and nearly getting myself killed with Ron and Hermione. Neville just looks stunned. He hugs Teddy back and thanks him. Then Teddy, apparently finished eating and bored by sitting around talking, decides to go bother Hannah. I seize the opportunity to relax a bit, getting Neville and I each an ale and sitting back down. I love the Bug, but this is our third day together and I'm worn out. Even the ever-maternal Molly Weasley looked a bit ragged when I picked him up yesterday after work, although she was cheerful about the prospect of taking him again tomorrow.
"So, Teddy and I are going to watch her game tomorrow, and I know I can talk her into having dinner, and I could ask her then, but . . . I have to do something with Teddy. The Bug is cute and all, but I'm not sure I can snog her properly with him watching."
Neville chuckles. "Yeah, I can see how that might ruin the mood." He looks thoughtful. "Blimey, Harry, I'd offer to watch him for a bit, but I have to do something at work. I'm sorry."
I shrug. "I'll think of something."
"Do you have a ring for her?" Neville asks in a hushed voice.
I think I am blushing again. "Yes. I've had it for quite a while. It was actually really weird. I have my mother's wedding ring, and I thought maybe . . . but instead I saw one in Diagon Alley almost a year ago, and it looked perfect for Ginny, so I just walked in and got it. The person who sold it to me knew who I was, and I could just see they were preparing a cute little quip to give the newspaper when Ginny showed up for her next game wearing it." I shake my head, and force a smile. "I wasn't about to let 'em have the satisfaction. That's when I decided to wait until after I finished my training."
Neville makes a face at me. "Do you hate being famous?"
I nod fervently. "I thought people would get used to it eventually, you know? I mean, all that business has been over with for years! Ginny deals with it a lot better than I do, but then, she's famous for actually doing something now. I'm just famous for being alive, of all the stupid things." Then I cock my head a bit, as a thought occurs to me. "Actually, that's sort of important, isn't it? You and I, and Hannah, and Ginny, and all of us . . . being alive. After everything that happened, I reckon it is something of an accomplishment." I look over to the bar, where the Bug is squirming like mad while Hannah attempts to wipe off his face with a cleaning rag. "Not everybody managed it," I mutter. Teddy's parents, and my own, and Neville's parents as well. His parents both passed away a few months apart, two years ago. They just . . . wasted away.
"Hey," Neville says quietly. "We're talking about happy things, here. We're making new families, aren't we?"
I shrug, and raise my glass, which is nearly empty. "To orphans," I say. "May we always look at the bright side of things."
Neville clinks his glass against mine, giving me a wry look, and we down our drinks. Then I go collect Teddy before he drives Hannah insane, and steel myself for an afternoon of chasing him down and keeping him under control. I am almost dreading our visit to Uncle George, or rather, his store, rife with opportunities for destruction, but that is where we're headed.
We get a lot of looks as we make our way down the street. I am only just now thinking about it, but this is probably the first time I have appeared in public with Teddy, just the two of us. It's for Teddy's protection, mostly; Andromeda doesn't take him out amongst crowds when she can help it. It's not that Teddy has a problem with people, it's that people are sodding morons and treat him badly because his father was a werewolf. It's stupid, I know, but people are . . . well, they're sodding morons, aren't they? There are so many people watching us and trying to get our attention that Diagon Alley feels more crowded than it really is. I kind of wish we could just duck back into the Leaky Cauldron, sanctuary under the strict eye of Hannah Abbot, who would toss out on their ear anyone who tried to bother me for an autograph while I'm eating.
Instead of retreating, I take Teddy's hand so I don't lose track of him and I hold my head high. There are few people who actually know I'm his godfather, and I've sort of made it look like we're not that close. Like I said, for Teddy's protection. Although I am guiltily thinking that it was only too easy to pull off, with how little time I've really spent with him. Once every couple of months isn't going to do anymore. I'm going to do better. That settled in my mind, I squeeze the Bug's hand so that he loses that frightened look and just presses in closer to me.
"You're all right," I assure him.
He just nods.
I decide not to call him Bug in front of anyone. If I want people to leave him alone, it wouldn't exactly help things if they find out my pet name for him. We get inside Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, which is pretty full despite the slow day the shops seem to be having, but I breathe a sigh of relief at being off the street. I am immediately caught up in showing Teddy the most age-appropriate things I can find (which are surprisingly hard to come by in this store), and we soon forget about being famous because we're having fun playing with some gag gifts.
"Is there anything I can help you find?"
I look up to see a perky young blond thing in astoundingly bright green robes smiling at us. I immediately peg her as a bit vacant but mostly harmless. I smile at her.
"Well, if Mr. or Mrs. Weasley is in the store, I'd love to see them, but other than that, we're fine."
The perky young blond thing loses the smile, and proves my assumption. "Well, she is, that is, Mrs. Weasley is in the store, but if there's a problem, I can assist you, I'm sure." She is almost ready to wring her hands. "Have you had a problem?"
"No, nothing like that. I just wanted to say hello."
She gives me a doubtful look, and I sigh.
"Never mind, dear, we're fine right now. Thank you for asking."
She leaves, looking completely lost, but I don't really need her. I have a stake in this store, and I could probably just go back to the offices to look for the proprietors if I really wanted to. I'm not the intrusive type, though, so I instead lead Teddy up to the front. Lo and behold, there is Angelina. I want to find the perky witch and tell her she is making her own job way too difficult, but instead I go up to the counter.
"Hello, Angelina."
"Ah, Harry! How are you?"
"I'm well. And you? How are you settling in, here?" I've heard some of the disaster stories of her first couple of weeks on the job.
She makes a face. "I wouldn't call it smooth sailing, but I haven't destroyed anything recently."
George married Angelina a few months ago. It was a very simple ceremony, and small. Mostly just the Weasley family, Angelina's parents, and a couple of people from our old Quidditch team. But we all agree that Angelina deserved the most lavish wedding of the century, despite her preference being for something low-key. The girl I knew as a tough-as-nails Quidditch captain miraculously commanded George right out of his depression and into a relationship with her. We all decided she was the most beautiful and amazing woman we'd ever known, but no one is a bigger fan of her than Ron is. It was actually a bit hard of him to let George go and give him over to her care, after how much he's poured into keeping George going the last few years. But now that they're married, Ron is able to have his own life, and he's enjoying that immensely.
"How's George?" I ask a bit more seriously.
She grins. "He took the day off."
I blink, and when I open my eyes she is still there, smiling. "He what?"
"I know. But yeah, he really took the day off. So that he could, and I quote, 'get some rest and have some fun.'"
"George is resting and having fun," I repeat slowly. "All right, Angelina, the game is up. You've got him under the Imperius curse, haven't you?"
Angelina just laughs and jokes back—this is part of the reason we love her, she just refuses to accept George's overworked and underemotional state is in any way his normal behaviour, and bulldozes right through any references to it. "If I had, you'd arrest me, so I won't tell you!"
"Really, though, I'm glad to hear it. You're good for him. You know, I have this image of you in my head, that you diagram your day on a chalkboard by the breakfast table, and if he gets depressed, you smack Bludgers at him and tell him to snap out of it because you have a game to win . . ." I have to stop, because she is pelting me with some kind of sweet that I don't want to touch me until I know what it does. We're both laughing.
Teddy, who was trying to figure out some kind of puzzlebox until now, has his eye caught by some flashing lights down an aisle. But I'm not about to let him go off alone in this particular establishment, so I nab him by the collar and keep him firmly at my side.
"Aw," he whines.
"You stay with me. We'll go look in a minute."
He sighs, but waits patiently.
"Haven't lost those reflexes, I see," Angelina comments mildly. She looks down at Teddy, and back at me. "This is the Lupin's kid, right?" she confirms.
"Yeah."
She puts on a big smile for Teddy. "Well, I have heard all about you, Mister Lupin. George says you are a wonderful boy."
Teddy is shy, and looks up at her sort of sideways, through his hair.
"Well, then," she says, coming around the counter, "if Harry isn't going to take you to see our latest invention, then I suppose I shall have to do it." She holds out a hand to him, giving me a wink. She's kind of overestimating Teddy's friendliness, though. He's all hugs and smiles with Neville and Hannah because he knows them pretty well, but he's awfully shy around strangers.
"Harry has to come," he says nervously, and grabs hold of my leg.
"Of course I'm coming," I say, peeling him away from my leg so I can walk, but keeping hold of his hand until he stops being nervous. "Sorry, Angelina, he'll get used to you pretty fast."
She frowns a bit. "Aren't most kids more interested in toys than in their guardian?"
I let Teddy run a few steps ahead, which he does, but turns back to make sure I'm still there. "He's a little bit different."
"I can see that. You know it's not good for a child to be nervous like that, don't you?"
I shrug, and try not to get angry. Angelina doesn't know what it's like, and I can't blame her for not knowing.
"It's a combination of things. Andromeda keeps him pretty close since he's all she's got left of her daughter. He worries about me, because he knows I have the same job his mum had, and he gets to thinking I'm going to get murdered. And then there are the people who walk right up to him and tell him he's an abomination and should have been drowned at birth like the defective pup he is."
Angelina gapes at me, and I let her see how upset I am by all this. People just have no right. The first time I heard one of these stories, Andromeda had to stop me from demanding a meeting with Kingsley Shacklebolt about terrorizing those idiots. I've gotten more used to it, but no less angry.
"Why would anybody—oh. You mean because Professor Lupin was his father?"
I nod. "The ignorant and unwashed masses appear to believe he's going to go feral and start eating them, any day now. It's getting so he can hardly go anywhere. Today is really special, for us."
Teddy looks back at me, and sees that I'm upset, and leaves his toy aside to come running to me and try to hug me.
"What's wrong, Harry?" he asks with worry.
"It's nothing, Teddy, I'm okay," I answer, putting my hand on his back and pressing him close for a minute. He's such a good kid, to be so concerned about me when there are all these wonderful distractions around. I get the feeling this kind of sympathy is going to get him mercilessly teased throughout his life, but I can't bring myself to think of it as a bad thing. There's nothing wrong with being a compassionate person.
Angelina is watching us with a mixture of surprise and interest, and I feel embarrassed by my outburst, so I sit down on the floor in the aisle to look at the new things Teddy has discovered. Angelina and I exchange a few bits of more neutral gossip about the family, then she goes off to help another customer.
"Is Uncle Ron here?" Teddy pipes up as we begin to make our final selections.
"No, not today. Since Miss Angelina works here with George, it means Ron is able to find another job if he wants to. Remember?"
Teddy nods uncertainly.
"Do you remember what Ron decided to do?"
Teddy gives a more certain nod at that. "He's gonna be an Auror, like you and my mum! He's gonna catch bad guys!"
I smile and ruffle his hair. "That's right."
My smile falls as a new thought comes to me. Ron is two years behind me in the programme. I don't know if the Ministry can contain their enthusiasm enough to keep from promoting me in the next two years. I would find it very, very awkward if I was Ron's boss when he becomes a full Auror. Ah, well, nothing I can do but try to refuse if it comes up, because I know I won't be ready for it. But Ill deal with that problem when I get to it. Right now, I have to worry about Teddy, who is going to force me to buy one of everything if I don't keep an eye on him.
I buy Teddy the puzzlebox, and one of the famous Weasley Invisibility Hats, then I take Teddy to Flourish and Blotts. He is bouncing with joy over his gifts (and has even remembered to say thank you for them—bless Andromeda for training him to be polite), but confused about going to the bookstore.
"Do you need Auror books, Harry?"
"No, we're going to buy you a book," I tell him.
"Me?"
"Why, of course! I want to pick out a very special book so that you can read to me again."
I have to hold on to the Bug to keep him from shooting off the walls, at that. He is both thrilled and embarrassed that I'm making such a fuss out of it. Well, I have to, because I didn't even know he was learning, and I have to assuage my guilt for not being there to encourage him. (Am I getting good at self-analysis or what?) The children's section at Flourish and Blotts is rather small, but we find one that looks promising. It's called My Magical Friends, written by Rolf Scamander, and it is an introduction for kids to magical creatures. The author's name seems familiar to me, but I can't think why, and I'm not about to torture myself trying to figure it out.
The question is answered for me at the counter by the witch who checks us out.
"Oh, this is the book!"
"Excuse me, ma'am, what book?"
She gives me a scandalised look. "Surely you know of Newt Scamander, who wrote Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them?"
"Oh . . . yes."
"This Rolf Scamander, here, that's his grandson. First time published, and it's a bit of a sensation. Going to follow right in Newt's footsteps, they say. Well, if it's any good."
"It looks good," I say cautiously. Honestly, I don't really care, but it would probably be rude to say so. She hands me the book. "Thank you. Have a nice day." I look down at Teddy and raise my eyebrows.
"Thank you," he says shyly, and nearly runs for the door when I nod in approval. I think the witch is going to have an aneurysm, she's so undone by the cuteness, but she recovers enough to wave to us as we exit.
We finish up the afternoon with ice cream, which means I have to wet down six napkins just to get Teddy's face clean afterward. Even with all those nice manners, he's still five and he's still a very messy eater. I have been reminding myself of that over the last few days, maintaining my patience with him. He's just a little boy.
By the time I get him back home, he's pretty well worn out. We have a very light supper, and then go into the study so he can read me a bit out of his new book. He does so, proudly, despite having to skip over and sound out good portions of the text. I am grudgingly impressed by Scamander's presentation of the material into a kid-friendly format. Teddy gets to put his book away on the shelf I cleared for him, and he is so happy that he runs over to give me a hug after he carefully places the book. He's yawning like crazy, so I carry him upstairs and make his bath as quick as possible. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.