Work Text:
“Dad.”
Harry looked up from his book to see Teddy standing in the doorway of his bedroom.
“What is it, Ted?” he asked, putting his book down. His son trembled.
“I don’t feel good….”
Harry beckoned for Teddy to come sit on his lap. As he climbed up, Harry felt his forehead. He was a little warm. Harry held his son tight and started rocking him side to side and humming a tune. He wished he knew an actual lullaby, but he’d never been close enough to hear the ones Aunt Petunia would sing to Dudley. This tune was one he’d heard Sirius sing, and it reminded him of his mother. Perhaps she’d sing to him when he was a baby, and the only recollection he had of it was the vague familiarity of this melody.
Teddy melted into Harry’s arms as he hummed, his eyelids drooping. Harry stood up with the child in his arms and carried him back to his bed. He tucked him in and combed a hand through his hair. The boy looked pale. Harry sighed in sympathy for him. He knew Teddy would be okay, but that didn’t stop a parent from worrying.