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Chapter Text

Everything about the Burrow seemed transient these days. People drifted past each other as if they as if they were completely alone, but the house was as bustling with noise at it had always been, with people popping in and out with good wishes or condolences, lasagnes and flowers. Harry and Ron had started as Aurors on a part-time basis (‘Ease yourself in,’ Kingsley had said), though for Ron that had come to a halt as he and Hermione prepared to go to Australia.

George stayed in bed all day, coming down occasionally for meals or to make snide, angry remarks to people - constantly picking and criticising. They let him. How could they not?

Molly was equally morose and adrift, though she tried to keep herself busy and in a good mood; walking around the house, though, she would inevitably meet something that reminded her of George’s other half: Simple things; an embroidered pillow the twins had nearly burnt to ashes, a small jar of costmary she had to repair after they broke it - thrice; Fred’s old toothbrush in the bathroom. Homework, drawings, papers, photos, memories. Lost futures.

Still, the war was over. Harry had defeated Tom Riddle.

From Ginny’s perspective, all of this coalesced into a kaleidoscopic blur. Snatched, hopeful kisses with Harry - those that promised a better future - fit snugly between funerals and their own long walks along the river, where, after giving George some lunch and making sure he had eaten something, and, as always, getting bluntly declined in their attempts at company, they would talk about the war, and what they had missed of each other’s lives.

Ginny told Harry about her months at Hogwarts, the Carrows, the DA, hiding with Aunt Muriel after Easter. Harry talked about his hunt for the horcruxes, pitter-patter pieces of Tom Riddle’s soul. His tribulations with Hermione and Ron. Breaking into Gringotts, breaking out of Gringotts, the Battle of Hogwarts. Voldemort. Walking to his death, his last thoughts - of her.

They would talk about their plans for the future, their hopes, dreams. Wishes for their friends; for Ron and Hermione, Neville, Luna, the Weasleys. Harry’s future as an auror. Yet, despite their talks about the future, and things yet to come, she still felt a keen loss of purpose and potentiality, or something like it - almost as if someone had snatched a rug out from under her.

‘Yeah, that’s grief,’ said Harry when she told him, kicking a pebble into the river with his boots.‘It will get better.’

There had been a slight uplift spirits when they heard that Andromeda was bringing Teddy round. They had only met him twice before - briefly after the battle and then again at Tonks and Lupin’s funeral. But now they could focus entirely on him, and she could tell that, in his own way, Harry was nervous.

‘I should have got him a gift,’ he said in the kitchen, the morning Andromeda was expected to arrive. ‘That’s what godfathers do, isn’t it?’

‘I reckon you can put that off til the christening, mate,’ said Ron, peering over a mug of coffee.

Andromeda arrived around lunch time, her face gaunt and pale, heavy purple bags under her eyes. Teddy was in a carrier, crying loudly.

Molly fetched Andromeda a cup of tea while they all sat at the kitchen table, Andromeda vaguely trying to hush the baby while they all tried to talk above his cries.

‘I’m so sorry,’ she said, after Hermione had asked her to repeat herself for the third time. ‘He was such a good baby when he was born, but all he does is cry lately, I’m at the end of my rope.’

'You look exhausted,' said Ginny.

The words seemed to snap something in Andromeda, and the tears began to fall freely. 'I'm just so tired,' she said. 'So tired. He hasn't stopped crying since they... Since they left.'

Harry moved forward, and gently, with an expression as though he expected Andromeda to shout at him, took the screaming baby. Andromeda's arms fell limply to her side. 'You need some rest,' he said.

'I can't leave him,' sobbed Andromeda. 'I'm all he's got, and he's all I've got-'

'He's got me too,' said Harry gently. 'And I'm not going to take him from you, but I think you need some quiet.'

Andromeda looked at Teddy; she still cried, as did he, but she didn't reach her arms out to him. 'I do,' she admitted. 'Oh, god, I'm sorry-'

'It's all right,' said Molly. 'Harry will look after him for a few days here, we don't mind. You need some quiet to grieve properly.'

Andromeda sobbed even more now, her whole body shaking. 'I'll go home and sleep... And maybe to my sister's,' she said hoarsely, as though admitting something shameful. 'Just for a little while. I'm not abandoning him,' she added forcefully.

'I know,' said Harry. 'I didn't think that, not even for a second.'

'I've got plenty of old baby things in the attic, we're well prepared,' said Molly kindly. 'You get some rest, Andromeda, and come back to get him whenever you're ready. You were wrong earlier - Teddy's not all you've got, you've got us too.'

'He doesn't know what he's doing,' blurted out Andromeda suddenly, looking at Harry with genuine panic. 'You're not - you're not holding him right-'

'But I know what I'm doing,' said Molly calmly. 'Harry, come here... Support his head - yes, like that, perfect.' Harry's own panicked expression calmed a little, but Ginny could tell he just wanted to hand Teddy to Molly now. Molly pretended not to notice, and looked back down at Andromeda. 'You see? He has to learn at some point, doesn't he? I'll keep an eye on him.'

The baby continued to wail; Ginny could quickly see how maddening it was. Piercing, relentless, impossible to ignore.

'He just wants his mum,' said Andromeda faintly. 'He can't help it. His mum and his dad. Not me. He doesn't want me.'

'He will do one day,' said Harry. His voice seemed to crack slightly. 'It'll get better for him. For all of us.'

Andromeda nodded shakily. Molly helped her up, and within minutes she was taking the Floo back home.

Ginny went over to Harry, still awkwardly holding Teddy. 'Big lungs on him,' she said, trying to smile.

Harry nodded, looking down at him strangely. Teddy squirmed and bawled, his tiny face bright red and scrunched up, his hair the same shade as Remus's had been.

Molly returned, and Harry immediately looked to her. 'What do I do now?' he asked.

Molly smiled - it was the first time Ginny had seen her do so in many weeks - and carefully moved Teddy so he was lying up against Harry's chest, his head on his shoulder. 'Now try and bounce him a little, not too hard, maybe some swaying - you'll find what he likes. That's it, nice and gentle... And now you can rub his back, or pat it - you can be a bit firmer than that. Yes, perfect...'

She rolled up her sleeves, suddenly almost business-like and alert. 'I'll need some help getting some things out the attic - the moses basket will probably do for now, no need to get the whole cot out. And someone will need to go into the village for me to get some baby formula - I'm sure I have some muggle money tucked away somewhere.'

'I have muggle money, Mrs Weasley,' said Hermione. 'I'll go now-'

'Oh, but my dear, don't you need it for your trip?'

'I got plenty out,' said Hermione. 'And I need to pick up a few bits anyway.'

Ron and Hermione headed out to the village, while Molly hurried up the stairs shouting for Arthur for help in the attic. Harry, Ginny and Teddy were left in the living room, Harry still awkwardly bouncing Teddy.

'This isn't making a difference,' Harry said to her, looking rather flustered. 'Is it making a difference? I can't tell, I don't think it is-'

'It is,' Ginny lied. 'You're doing well.'

Harry paced a little, alternating with terrible rhythm between bouncing and swaying the baby. The panic and reality of looking after Teddy had clearly hit home. 'I don't know what I'm doing. He needs his parents.'

'I know he does,' said Ginny quietly. 'But you were right, what you said to Andromeda, it will get easier with time.'

Molly reappeared, Arthur in tow, and they were carrying a wicker moses basket and a large cardboard box. 'Right then,' she said briskly. 'I've given it a quick clean, so it should be fine, pop him in here, Harry-'

She let go of the moses basket, and it floated at waist height, bobbing slightly as though on water. Harry lay Teddy in it. 'No, no,' said Molly quickly. 'On his back. That's right.'

Arthur had put down the box and was scraping off the spellotape. 'I thought I'd just bring down one box, although there's so much up there. Amazing how much stuff you collect, even if you do reuse as much as possible.'

'Oh, look!' said Ginny happily. The box was full of neatly folded baby clothes, in every colour imaginable, as well as a few stuffed animals shoved in one of the corners. 'My old niffler!'

She grabbed it - it was thick with dust, and one beady eye was missing, but it was as soft as she always remembered it. Much smaller, though.

Harry grinned at her. 'That was yours?'

'Yes,' she replied, a little defensively. 'Mum, where's Ron's hippogriff?'

'Oh, that blooming hippogriff,' said Molly, tutting irritably. 'They were all the rage then, every toddler in Diagon Alley had one clutched under his arm. Some bright spark had the idea to make them have realistic screeching noises. Like many parents, I accidentally left that one at the park.'

'Mother, how could you?' said Ginny teasingly. She handed the niffler to Harry, who gave it a quick cleansing charm and gently waved it around Teddy's flailing fists. Teddy was not interested, just continued to cry, kicking his tiny feet.

'Just put it next to him,' said Molly. 'Let him cry a little, it's all right, we're still close. Now then, newborn clothes...'

They rifled through, pulling out onesies and rompers and tiny little t-shirts, checking the faded labels for the right size. Molly was emotional, but not so uncontrolled as she had been before. She held a little yellow onesie, her thumbs brushing over the soft material. 'You all wore this at one point or another,' she said to Ginny. 'Amazing how long it's lasted... But then I suppose none of you wore it for long, you all grew so fast.'

'Don't we need nappies?' asked Harry. 'We forgot to ask Hermione-'

'We have cloth ones down here,' said Molly, digging deep into the box. 'And we don't need any of that muggle fussing, not when we've got magic.'

He looked incredibly relieved, and Ginny giggled as she thought of the unpleasant baby changing diagrams she had seen in her muggle studies book. 'Is it true,' she asked him curiously, 'that muggles sometimes cut the baby out of the mother's stomach?'

'My goodness,' exclaimed Molly, looking at Harry with a horrified expression. 'Surely not?

'Er... Yeah, it is, but only when something's gone wrong, I think,' said Harry awkwardly. They stared at him. 'It's quite safe,' he added.

'Such strange folk,' Molly muttered, turning back to the clothes. ‘Ah! Yes, this one I think. Let’s put him in this for bed.’

When Ron and Hermione returned with provisions for their trip to Australia and baby formula, Molly sat Harry on the sofa and showed him how to feed Teddy.

The quiet was blissful, only the faint sucking and gulping of the baby, and his, really rather cute, humming noises he made.

'He's looking at me,' said Harry, surprised.

'Well what else has he got to look at?' asked Ron. 'Poor thing.' As Harry was unable, Ginny smacked Ron on the arm for him.

'Can't you just feed him constantly?' asked George grumpily, who had been roused from sleep at Teddy's cries. 'Or at least all the way through tonight.'

'I'll sleep down here with him tonight so he doesn't disturb Ron, and put a silencing charm on the room for everyone else,' said Harry.

'I'm sure he won't cry all night,' said Hermione anxiously.

'Didn't you see the bags under Andromeda's eyes?' asked Ron. 'I'm quite happy for Harry to deal with it.'

'Cheers mate,' said Harry.

'No problem.'

'Well I'm going to try and get some more sleep now that he's quiet,' said George, sloping back up the stairs.

'Don't you want any dinner, George?' called Molly nervously.

'No,' he replied heavily. They watched him vanish up to his room, leaving them all in an awkward, unhappy silence.

'He'll be ok, Mum,' said Ginny quietly, watching her mother's tired face continue to stare up the stairs.

'Yes,' said Molly, smiling weakly. 'But I suppose I should get the dinner started while the baby's quiet.'

Despite their offers to help, Molly went to the kitchen alone. Within a few minutes, Teddy had stopped drinking, and began to shake his head, pushing the bottle away with a hand and crying loudly.

Harry glanced nervously up the stairs, and said, 'chuck a silencing charm on, would you Hermione?'

Hermione did so, and they found themselves watching Harry pacing the room with Teddy again, patting his back, trying to shush his cries, getting more and more stressed.

'Maybe we could try singing to him?' suggested Hermione. 'Do you know any lullabies?'

'No, obviously not,' said Harry flatly. 'Sorry,' he added quickly, when he saw Hermione's hurt expression.

'Doesn't have to be a lullaby,' said Ginny. 'They're hard to sing and the baby doesn't know what the words mean anyway. Here, hand him to me, let me have a go.' She took Teddy from Harry, feeling how warm and surprisingly heavy he was for such a tiny little thing.

'Come on then, Ginny, give us a tune,' said Ron.

Like Harry, Ginny found herself pacing, singing odd bars of whatever Celestina Warbeck song sprang to mind. For a brief moment, they thought it might have worked - Teddy's cries spluttered to a stop and he looked at her with big, blue eyes, before his lip quivered and he wailed again.

'I know, mate, I think it's awful too,' said Ron.

'Shut up,' she hissed at him. 'I see you're not helping.'

'What do you want me to do?' shrugged Ron. 'We're putting all this effort into trying to stop him crying, maybe he just needs to cry. As long as we're looking after him and holding him-'

'Oh! Harry!' cried Hermione suddenly.

Ginny whirled round to see Harry sat in the armchair, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, visibly fighting back tears. 'Sorry,' he said, his voice croaky. 'Just ignore me, I'm just-'

'I didn't mean-' began Ron, looking thoroughly ashamed.

'No, it's not you,' said Harry hurriedly, rubbing the bridge of his nose firmly. 'It's everything, it's the whole situation...'

'Yeah, it's tough, mate,' said Ron. 'You said it yourself to me the other week, there's no shortcut for this stuff. We've just got to learn to cope with it.'

Ginny knew he was right, but she felt her own eyes sting with angry tears too. A whole world of magic at their fingertips, but they couldn't just wave away this problem in a heartbeat. It was there, forever, just a part of them they had to learn to live with. 'I miss Tonks,' she said. 'So much. And Remus.'

'Me too,' said Harry quietly. 'But most of all I hate how he won't remember them. I'll tell him what I can, but he'll never know them, not like we did.'

Ginny moved over to him, and carefully handed Teddy back. 'No,' she said quietly as she did. 'He won't. All we can do is try and make sure he knows as much as possible.'

'He'll never know what he could have been like either,' said Harry hollowly. 'Who he could have been if it hadn't happened. Whether he'd have been happier or more confident or if he'd have been a raging arsehole, he just won't know.'

'This isn't the same as you,' said Ginny firmly. 'We're here to do what we think Tonks and Remus would have wanted.'

'All of us,' agreed Ron. 'He's probably got the biggest family in the country, the amount of people looking out for him.'

Careful not to squash Teddy, who was crying between them, Ginny reached for Harry and pulled him into a hug, his glasses poking the side of her neck. 'Sorry,' he said again, as they broke apart. He looked down at Teddy, still crying, and stood, ready to pace the room again.

-------

Evening fell, and eventually so did Teddy's cries as he dropped off to sleep in Harry's arms. It took them all a few minutes to notice, because they had turned the wireless on to try and drown it out, but eventually they noticed the absence of the noise and looked over to see Harry asleep in the armchair, with Teddy sleeping against his chest.

'If we wake them, the baby might start crying again,' whispered Hermione.

'He can't sleep there, no matter how sweet,' said Molly firmly. She went over to the chair and roused Harry with a gentle shake of the shoulder. He blinked at her for a few seconds in a confused sort of way, then looked down at the silent baby.

'Nice and slowly now; let's put him in the basket,' whispered Molly.

By some miracle, Harry managed to rise out of the chair and carefully place Teddy in the moses basket. Ted stirred and grizzled for a few seconds. The entire room seemed to hold their breath, worried that they had woken him, but all remained quiet.

'Now you don't need any blankets for him - the basket has a warming charm over it, so he'll be all right. If it gets too much in the night, don't worry about coming and getting me, dear, you know where I'll be.'

It was an early night for all of them, but they retired, leaving Harry with the sofa, a pillow and some blankets.

'You sure you'll be all right down here?' asked Ginny. 'It can't be very comfortable.'

'I can't keep Ron up,' said Harry. 'He’s doing a day with the Aurors tomorrow, and he and Hermione have got loads to do at the moment. I'll be fine, it's just for tonight, maybe tomorrow if Andromeda needs.'

'All right,' she said, and she kissed him goodnight, wishing she could stay with him. She suspected, however, that even sleeping on the other sofa would be frowned upon by her mother. She heard a faint buzzing as she climbed the stairs - Harry had cast muffliato. She looked back over her shoulder, and saw him pull the basket closer to the sofa where he collapsed down, exhausted.

----

The next day continued in much the same vein. Ginny went down for breakfast to find Harry already up with a crying Teddy, Molly offering suggestions as she prepared a huge batch of eggs and soldiers. Ron and Hermione were pouring over a map of Australia and talking quietly, pretending not to notice Teddy's deafening screams. George was still in bed, and Arthur had escaped to the garden.

'What can I do?' Ginny asked Harry.

'Take him,' he said, his face pale except for the dark bags under his eyes. 'Please - I need a shower.'

When he returned, and Teddy was still crying despite being fed. On Molly’s suggestion, they got the old pram out and tried walking him down to Ottery St Catchpole, a little woolly hat over his head in case his hair went back to blue.

'Won't he get hot in the sun with that on?' asked Harry anxiously.

'He'll be all right,' said Ginny.

There was something quite nice about the two of them taking the baby to the village, her pushing the pram, he walking alongside so he had access to his wand if needed. It felt like something normal people did, and Teddy's constant crying felt like a normal problem. In it's own way, it was refreshing.

‘I had this dream last night,’ said Harry suddenly, avoiding her gaze. ‘That I got so sick of his crying that I shut him in a cupboard. And then all of a sudden I was meeting Remus at a cafe, and we had been talking for ages, and I realised two weeks had passed and I had completely forgotten to take Teddy out the cupboard or check on him or anything.’

‘And what happened then?’ asked Ginny.

‘I didn’t say anything to Remus, I didn’t want him to know. I just got up and ran back to the cupboard, and then I woke up just as I opened the door.’ He looked at her, his face pale and uneasy. ‘I suppose it means I’m scared I can’t cope.’

‘I suppose so,’ said Ginny. ‘But luckily you’ve got me to remind you not to leave babies in cupboards.’

Even the bumpy pram ride did nothing, and despite doing a loop of the village square and up along the river, they found themselves returning to the Burrow with the baby no quieter than when they left.

'Bloody hell,' moaned George, putting his hands over his ears and slinking off again. 'Doesn't that hurt his throat?'

'Leave him,' Arthur said to Molly, who had made to follow George. 'Let him be angry at something.'

The only reprieves were when they managed to persuade him to take a bottle, a blissful twenty minutes every few hours where it oddly felt like being able to breathe again.

'Was he like this all night?' asked Ron, massaging his temples.

'He slept for about an hour after each feed,' said Harry. He looked at Molly helplessly. 'Are all babies like this? Is this normal?'

She hesitated. 'It's normal for some babies, not others. They're all different.'

'But he wasn't like this before,' said Harry, with an edge of slight hysteria. 'Andromeda said so. And maybe it's because of Remus and Tonks, but maybe he's ill or something.'

'Or maybe it's just the way he is,' said Molly kindly. 'It will get better.'

But by dinner, Ginny was inclined to agree with Harry that they should take Teddy to St Mungo's to check that nothing was wrong. The crying was so loud, so relentless, so raw and piercing sounding, that she wondered if he was in some kind of pain. That it didn't seem to exhaust him as much as it did them baffled her.

She could tell that Harry was coming to regret, or at least feel embarrassed, about his volunteering to take Teddy for a few days. He had started to frequently apologise to anyone who showed any sort of reaction to Ted's noise, and was particularly quick to cast silencing charms if George was around. She walked up behind him when he was pacing with Teddy at one point, and heard him saying to the baby, 'it's all right, I'll get my own place soon and then you can cry as loud as you want, but please stop crying, please stop crying...'

Bill and Fleur had arrived for dinner too - nobody had thought to warn them about their noisy guest. Ginny assumed Bill was used to terrible screeching from his wife, so he did a good job of ignoring it, but Fleur kept wincing in a way that made Ginny want to join in with Ted.

'I'll take him in another room,' said Harry, standing yet again. Everyone else had nearly finished their dinner, but his remained untouched. 'If someone would just keep a plate for me-'

‘Don't be silly,' said Molly, forcing him into a chair. 'Sit down, I know you like toad in the hole. Never mind the baby, he'll settle.' Harry did so, wearily reaching for his water, bouncing Ted on his knee.

'No, take him out,' moaned George. 'I'm sorry, I know he can't help it, but I'm going mad...'

But before anyone could respond, Harry had choked on his water, looking out of the kitchen window with horror.

Hestia Jones and Dedalus Diggle were walking a blonde family up the garden path. 'What are they doing here?' spluttered Harry, clearly horrified.

Arthur frowned, and went to the door.

'I'm so sorry,' Diggle said as Arthur invited them in. 'We returned to the house in Surrey and it's, er, well the interior is rather vandalised from the Death Eaters. The Ministry are going over it now to check for any traps or nasty enchantments, we're not entirely sure if it's safe, you know-'

'We'll get them a hotel,' said Harry at once, before greeting them.

'Oh, we have one for them, down in the village as we weren't sure you'd have room,' said Hestia, who looked highly uncomfortable as she gave a sideways glance to Vernon. 'We just thought… They can’t check in for another hour so-'

'Oh, Harry!' exclaimed Diggle. 'My dear boy, well, man! Congratulations, I am so delighted, well done-'

Arthur said something in a low voice, and Diggle gave a nervous little laugh. 'Yes, quite, well - ahem. Our, er, job is done here, really, and while we've all ended up jolly good friends, I'm not sure Vernon, Petunia and Dudley would like us to hang around while they catch up with Harry-'

The Dursleys did not look like they wanted to stay in the Burrow, nor did they want to catch up with Harry. In fact, only Dudley was looking around the house with any curiosity - both Vernon and Petunia were clutching each other in fear. Vernon’s eyes were so wide they looked two Smeltings straw boaters.

‘It’s fine if you just want to go straight to the hotel,’ Harry told them bluntly.

Fleur raised her eyebrows and exchanged a glance with Bill.

‘It’s true then?’ said Petunia sharply. ‘He’s dead? The man that…?’

‘Yes,’ said Harry.

‘We’ll leave you to it!’ said Diggle cheerily. Ginny wasn’t sure she had ever seen two people leave as fast as Hestia and Diggle - clearly a year with the Dursleys had been more than enough for them.

‘Please,’ said Molly. ‘Have a seat, I’m afraid there’s no dinner left, but I have apple crumble for pudding-’

‘Oh, yes please!’ said Dudley, his chubby face looking delighted. He eagerly took a seat at the table, and leaned over Bill to introduce himself to Fleur, who shook his hand politely.

‘Please,’ said Arthur, more firmly than Ginny was expecting. ‘Sit.’

She wasn’t surprised the Dursleys looked hesitant - Arthur didn’t look welcoming at all. Nobody did. Especially not Harry, who was flat out scowling at them. But, looking as though they were afraid the chairs would eat them, Vernon and Petunia took a seat at the long kitchen table. Bowls of apple crumble floated their way, landing with an unceremonious clunk in front of them. It seemed the Molly wasn’t concerned with keeping magic subtle in front of them.

‘The war is won,’ Arthur told them. ‘Peace will return at last. Your nephew was crucial in it all. I expect you are very proud of him.’

Neither Petunia nor Vernon answered, but Dudley, spooning a large chunk of apple crumble into his mouth, looked at Harry and loudly said, ‘was it one of those dementer things?’

‘No,’ said Harry. ‘It was a man. The one I told you about. Lord Voldemort.’ He hesitated, and then as though in spite of himself, asked, ‘where have you all been?’

‘In Spain,’ said Dudley, before his parents could answer. ‘But we just got back to the house and it’s all ripped up. Floorboards and everything. Graffiti all over the walls.’

‘Well,’ said Harry. ‘I told you they were after me. Now you see why you had to leave.’

‘Is that baby yours?’ asked Petunia, wincing at the sound of the crying.

‘Knew he’d get someone knocked up,’ muttered Vernon.

‘He’s my godson,’ said Harry calmly, though Ginny could see a tenseness in his jaw. ‘Teddy. He’s been orphaned.’

‘By that Voldemort bloke?’ asked Dudley.

‘Yes.’

‘Hestia told me all about it,’ said Dudley conversationally, mouth full of apple crumble. His father glared at him. ‘Everything you’ve done, I mean….” He stopped eating, fork halfway to his mouth. “Sounds pretty dope...’

There was a pause around the the table; Dudley looked bizarrely at Harry as though expecting him to agree. And then, slowly, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny started to giggle, Bill and Fleur soon joining in, almost drowning out the sound of Teddy’s wails.

‘Sure, Dud,’ said Harry, smiling for the first time since the Dursleys had come in. ‘Parts of it were pretty dope I suppose.’

'Just make that baby quiet!' shrieked Petunia suddenly, effortlessly puncturing the ballooning mood and silencing the laughter. She was raising her hands to her ears now. 'I can't stand it, the noise-'

'He can't help it,' said Harry, bouncing Teddy slightly. 'He's confused-'

'Just put him in another room, let him cry it out.'

'Oh that's what you did with me, was it?' The bitterness in Harry's voice was palpable; awkward glances were exchanged around the table, and poor Fleur started loudly talking to Dudley about Spain in a desperate attempt to change the subject.

'You didn't make it easy and we never asked for you,' said Petunia sharply. 'We've lost our home and a year of our lives because of you, despite everything.'

'My sister was right,' snarled Vernon. 'Ungrateful wretch - we should have packed you off to some orphanage.'

'I wish you had,' snapped Harry.

'OK,' said Molly quickly, rising and trying to take Teddy from Harry's arms. 'Harry, why don't you go and-'

'You'll see now,' spat Petunia, who looked close to tears, 'you'll see what it's like to have a baby dumped on you-'

'I see perfectly well,' said Harry coldly. He handed the still bawling Teddy to Molly, muttered, 'keep an eye on him for me', and stormed away to the back door.

'Where are you going?' called Molly.

'To sort out their fucking house so they don't have to stay here!' he shouted. The door slammed shut behind him.

'I better go after him,' said Ron grimly. 'If we're not sure the house is safe.'

Molly burst into tears. 'Oh, just bring him back, Ron - Bill, would you go too-'

'Of course,' said Bill quickly, throwing a disgusted glare at the Dursleys. 'Don't cry, mum, it's all right-'

'It's not all right!' she wailed. She rounded on Vernon and Petunia. 'What is wrong with you? Talk about gratitude, you're in my house now, I don't have to let you stay here, not if you treat him like that-'

'We never wanted any part of this,' blustered Vernon, though Ginny could see his cheeks reddening, she hoped out of shame. 'He started it-'

'No, he didn't,' Ginny said, unable to hold back any longer. 'You did, the moment you found him on your doorstep. Ron, I'm coming with you.'

'No, you're not!' sobbed Molly, her voice mingling with Teddy's high-pitched cries. 'It's not safe, Ginny, and you can't do magic yet, you’re not old enough.'

'I'll be back with him soon, don't worry, ' Ron assured her, squeezing her shoulder. Hermione rose with him, and they left with Bill out of the door.

‘I will take leetle Teddy, Molly,’ said Fleur hurriedly, holding out her arms for the baby. She took him into the sitting room, and the cries became muffled.

Now it was Ginny’s turn to round on them ‘You have no idea what he’s done. What he’s been through.’

‘He has no idea what we’ve been through,’ said Petunia coldly. ‘Almost a year, we’ve been gone-’

‘Oh, boo hoo,’ sneered Ginny.

‘Ginny,’ said Arthur sharply. He turned to the Dursleys. ‘Harry is a member of our family here. He will not be yours for much longer. You’re welcome to eat and rest here, but I expect you to go to your hotel this evening. I will not tolerate mistreatment of him.’

‘Come on, Dudders,’ said Vernon, rising out of his chair. ‘I’m not listening to this. We’ll go straight to the hotel.’

‘Good,’ said Ginny loudly.

‘How long did it take?’ blurted out Molly, before the Dursleys could get out of the door. ‘Before Harry stopped crying?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Petunia, refusing to look at Molly. ‘I don’t remember.’

The Dursley’s left. They watched them through the kitchen window, heading back down the drive and behind the hedgerows, leaving the Burrow silent except for the soft sounds of Teddy’s cry.

Chapter Text

Harry appeared in Privet Drive with a loud crack, his heart thudding. The street was swarming with blue-robed Law Enforcement wizards; they had clearly already cast the muggle repellent charms.

Harry marched to the front door and was immediately faced with a dozen wands.

'No entry,' said one of the wizards, with a tone of authority that didn't quite match his nervous expression as his eyes scanned over Harry's recognisable face.

'I'm Harry Potter,' said Harry impatiently. 'This is my aunt and-'

'We don't know that,' the wizard said stiffly. 'You could be anyone, with polyjuice potion.'

They had a point, Harry supposed, but he was too fired up to negotiate or think of ways to prove his identity. 'And I've come to, what? Attack an empty house?'

'Curse breakers are in there, scanning for-'

Harry didn't have time to listen. He pushed the wizard's wand dismissively out the way and headed into the house. Clearly they knew he really was Harry Potter, because none of them seemed to have the courage to send so much as a stunning spell his way.

The house was trashed. The furniture was burnt out, scorch marks, rips and insulting graffiti covered the walls - even the very floorboards had been pulled up. Didn't the Death Eaters have anything better to do during the war? he wondered vaguely.

The curse breakers were crawling along with their wands out, pulling the tips across skirting boards and tapping the walls. A few of them glanced up at Harry and stared. Harry ignored them.

He headed to the living room, and pointed his wand at the burnt sofa. 'Repairo,' he said, and the springs became hidden under the regrowing cushions, the soot in the fabric shrank away into nothingness, and within seconds it was back to normal.

'Mr Potter,' said one of the wizards hesitantly. 'I know it must be... emotional, but please don't repair anything before we've checked for curses.'

'I'm not emotional,' said Harry, discounting fury as an emotion. 'I just want this tidied up as fast as possible.'

'I appreciate that,' said the wizard, who looked quite terrified of him, 'but anything in here could be designed to attack you-'

'I'll survive,' Harry muttered, pointing his wand at the coffee table. Minute shards of glass picked themselves up and stitched themselves back together, the frame of the table righted itself, and it all slotted together as neat and perfect as the day Petunia had bought it.

'Also,' said the wizard slowly, trying a new tactic. 'Depending on when your spell wears off, the furniture will ultimately collapse again.'

Harry snorted. 'Good.'

He pointed his wand again, this time at the lamp that was shattered at his feet, but a tremble in his hand made him miscast - the lamp appeared to come back together and then immediately shatter again.

'Harry! Harry!'

There was a commotion outside; Harry turned in time to see Ron, Hermione and Bill rush into the living room.

'Don't do that!' said Ron angrily. 'Don't go rushing off on your own!'

'Evening, Bill,' said the wizard. 'Thought you were on compassionate leave?'

'Eytan,' nodded Bill. 'I am - I'll give you a hand though. Let's leave these three-'

'We haven't done this room yet, it could be danger-'

'Eytan,' said Bill sharply, and the wizard sheepishly followed him out.

'I'm sorry,' said Harry, turning back to Ron and Hermione. 'I just couldn't stand to be in there anymore.'

'Oh, Harry, we know,' said Hermione imploringly. 'They're awful, but please don't go off alone, you know there's still Death Eaters trying to put up a fight.'

'I don't think they've set any traps in here,' said Harry looking around. 'Just had fun trashing it up. They knew I wouldn't return.'

'Don't knock yourself out fixing it all, mate,' said Ron. 'That's not your job. The Muggle Liaison people will sort out new furniture and stuff. Just come home - the Dursleys can head to their hotel.'

'What were Diggle and Hestia thinking, springing them on me like that?' asked Harry hotly.

'They don't know, Harry,' said Hermione gently. 'They probably thought you would want to see them.'

'They've lived with them for months and then couldn't wait to leave - they know what they're like,' he snapped, but he had to admit to himself that she was probably right. They probably thought, underneath it all, that Harry and the Dursleys cared for one another. That was the natural assumption, and when people suspected they might be wrong they were always uncomfortable - he had seen it, hundreds of times, them trying to persuade him, even though he knew the truth and they were simply trying to make themselves feel better.

'All the same, let's get out of here,' said Ron quietly. 'You don't want to stay here either.'

Harry leaned against the back of the sofa. His right hand was trembling, his wand quivering in his hand. He looked slowly around the room, his eyes resting on the cupboard under the stairs he could just see through the living room door. 'I hated this place,' he said quietly. 'What if Teddy hates me too?'

'How could he?' said Hermione in a hushed voice. 'Oh, Harry, how could you think that?'

'I don't know what to do about his crying. What if I end up like my aunt, because he just won't stop?'

'You know full well I'll punch you on the nose if you ever start acting like that,' said Ron.

'Not that you ever would,' said Hermione hurriedly, with a glance at Ron. 'We know you wouldn't, Harry, because the idea of ever doing that is so abhorrent to you.'

'Of course it is!' he said, feeling rather sick. 'But I'm worried that I don't know any better, I just have the extreme of me and Dudley, and I don't want him to be either of us, I don't know what he needs-'

'Of course you do,' she said quietly. 'He needs what you always craved.'

Harry didn't say anything, he let the silence swell as hundreds of uncomfortable memories flooded his mind. It felt stupid to be upset about this now, just over a week since so many had died, after so many more traumatic events over the last few years, but from the second he had held Teddy he had wondered.

Had it really been so hard to love him?

As exhausted and frustrated as he had been trying to stop Teddy from crying, the pain of it was that he couldn't make him happy. The desperation was from a palpable pity and grief of what the baby had lost. The fear was that he would damage Teddy a much as the caregivers in his life had damaged him.

Had his aunt felt none of that, when she had found him on that cold November morning? Had his uncle really never thought, not even for a second, that the effort he spent in making Harry unhappy could be better used in making him feel like family? His cousin had seemingly had a change of heart, and it was hard to blame him for the way he had been raised, but would it have been so ridiculous, would it have cost them anything, to love him as they had loved Dudley?

The dream he had had the previous night, of shutting Teddy in a cupboard and forgetting about him, still felt like a cold weight in his stomach. It was clear to him that it was not being beaten up by Dudley and his friends that had traumatised him, nor had it been the occasional being knocked about by his uncle, or relentless belittling by his aunt. It had been the loneliness, the feeling of being forgotten and ignored, the constant knowledge that he was, always, unwanted.

The thought that Teddy would ever feel like that made him want to vomit. But there was something else too. A guilt. Eating away at him like a parasite. He had known that coming here would mean quiet. No more crying.

‘I need to go back to him,’ he said at last, finally tearing his eyes away from the cupboard. ‘I shouldn’t have handed him to Mrs Weasley.’

‘Come on,’ said Hermione softly, and she placed a hand on his back to guide him out.

------

It was the early hours of the morning. A pinkish grey light was just starting to creep through the windows, a symphony of birds were announcing their presence to one another. Teddy was screaming his little lungs out.

‘Sshh, sshh, sshh,’ Harry said again, pacing slowly and half-heartedly trying to bounce him. He thought about sitting down and holding him, but every time he did so the screaming got worse and Teddy would start to kick his legs too, wriggling so much that Harry didn’t feel he had a good enough grip, especially not if his hand started shaking again.

So he paced. He knew the living room perfectly by the number of steps now. Twelve by fourteen. Eight steps to get around the coffee table. Thirty if he weaved in and out of the two sofas and armchairs by the fireplace.

He needs what you always craved, Hermione had said, but all he remembered craving as a child was a hug once in a while, an adult to be nice to him. That alone was not enough, and it clearly wasn’t enough now.

He needed and craved his parents, but that wasn’t something Harry could give him, not matter how much he wished it. But he wondered what Remus and Tonks would have done, what their instincts as parents would have been. He tried to imagine them, tried to think of how they would have reacted or responded, but he had never seen them with him, nor did he remember how his parents would have responded to his own cries and tantrums, no matter how hard he, in his extreme desperation, tried.

Teddy’s hair had been blue in the picture Remus had shown him, but it remained the same sandy dark blonde Remus’s had been. A vague, strange thought came to him in his sleep deprived state, and he sat down, picking up his wand he had left on the arm of the sofa.

‘Ted,’ he whispered. ‘Teddy, look.’

From the tip of his wand he made a bubble of bright pink appear. The baby stopped crying abruptly, and stared at it with what Harry thought was a confused, but interested expression. The bubble floated softly down towards Teddy’s face, and Harry gave a small, playful gasp as it popped just before it reached his tiny little nose.

Teddy’s eyes looked up at him, still a little stunned looking. Then the lip began to wobble and the eyes returned to their glassy, tear-filled state and he took a breath-

‘Look!’ Harry whispered again. This time a blue bubble, the vivid turquoise he remembered from the photo. The baby reached up a chubby little fist and clumsily batted at it - it too, popped, and the baby let out a spluttered cry, but Harry was ready.

Bubbles of yellow and green and red and purple, glistening silver and burnt orange, pale blues and navy blues, dusky lilac and neon lime - every colour Harry could think of, and then rotating through them again.

There was a heavy sort of peace in the room. The cacophony of birds outside and the growing light wrapped around them like a blanket. From upstairs, the creak of bed springs and floorboards and the deep scrape of drawers suggested that people were beginning to rise. Harry wished they wouldn’t. It was so gloriously quiet. This was not it, Harry knew. This was not the magic, quick fix solution that would stop all the cries and pain of Teddy’s orphaning, nor would it fix the neglect he himself had suffered all those years ago. He was sure there was more sleepless nights to come, that even Teddy would grow bored of the pretty colours and bubbles, and that he may well return to the relentless crying. But it had worked for now, and any victory, no matter how small, was enough for him.

‘We’re going to be all right, you and me, aren’t we?’ he whispered to Teddy. He had a fleeting image, of he and Ginny, in some other house, away from the constant ebb and flow of the Burrow, having Teddy for a few days, just the three of them. He wanted it, his heart ached for it.

Teddy’s eyes were blinking slowly. He was growing heavy in Harry’s arms. ‘Aren’t I lucky?’ Harry told him. ‘To have you.’