Chapter Text
“You’re too young to be a father, Harry dear,” nagged Mrs. Weasley even as she piled Harry’s plate full of mashed potatoes. “Think about the responsibility and attention a baby needs.”
“Mum is right, mate,” Ron piped in, a chicken drum stick raised to his mouth. “V-Voldemort is finally gone. You should enjoy the freedom and your fame. We just saved the bloody world, who wants to think about raising kids at 17?”
“And what about Ginny? She still has another year left at Hogwarts. For that matter, so do you,” Hermione of course had to add her own two cents too. “You should think of building your career, and enjoy yourself and leave raising Teddy to people who have the necessary experience.”
Ginny remained silent, pressing her lips into a thin line. She was seated next to Harry and hadn’t said a word since they sat down to have dinner. Harry couldn’t really blame her or expect her support, because she had been quite clear on her stance the previous night. Admittedly, Harry might have been a tad bit insensitive, bringing up Teddy while Ginny had been doing her best to take his virginity, but it wasn’t like sex couldn’t wait. If he was honest, Harry didn’t really understand why people made such a fuss about sex. Sure, kissing was nice as well as having someone else touching him, but there were no explosions and touching Ginny down there made him feel strange. The one time Harry had tried to touch her back, she had been wet and warm, her hair a luxurious fiery halo around her flushed face and glazed brown eyes. She had smelled sweet and moaned her approval a bit too shrilly, but Harry had thought it must have been okay, because she had kissed him afterward and put her mouth on his cock, sucking him with all the skill she had learned with her previous boyfriends.
It had been nice, but nothing to write home about. Maybe the problem lay with Harry, but he just couldn’t find it in himself to really care about sex, especially not when his godson, the only tie to his family had no one left but him. Ginny and relationships could wait, Teddy bloody well couldn’t. Yet here they were, sitting around the kitchen table at Grimmauld Place, having dinner and discussing Teddy’s future like it meant nothing.
Harry’s fingers clenched around his knife and fork in frustration. How could he have missed that his friends didn’t trust him to make good decisions alone? He looked at Ron chewing heartily and so proud of himself, then turned to Hermione who was staring back at him expectantly, daring him to disagree with her sound reasoning. He chanced another glance at Ginny before his gaze flitted to Mrs. Weasley, who was loading George’s plate with a heartbroken expression on her face. Harry knew they all wanted the best for him, but they couldn’t expect him to leave Teddy to someone else and become an estranged uncle that had no impact on Teddy’s life except for the burden of being the godson of the famous Boy Who Lived. No, Teddy was his to care for and cherish. Harry had to be the one who told him about his parents and taught him about embracing being different.
"I’m not going back to Hogwarts,” was what he chose to say finally. “And I’m taking custody of Teddy.”
“But Harry! You can’t do this!” Hermione protested hotly. “You have to get your N.E.W.Ts and—”
“And then what, Hermione? Join the Auror Corps and marry Ginny? Have you already planned out my entire life in one of your neat little notebooks? How many kids do I have in your notes?” Harry snapped, glaring at his friend.
“You don’t have to be so harsh with Hermione, mate. She just wants what’s best for you.”
“I know you all want what’s best for me,” he gritted out in a carefully controlled voice, “but I’m old enough to make my own decisions.”
“Of course you are, Harry dear,” Mrs. Weasley assured him in a tone that suggested otherwise. “We just don’t want you to throw away your chance to enjoy being young. I’m sure Bill and Fleur would be more than happy to take little Teddy in permanently and you could see him on the holidays and in the summer.”
“And you could also get your N.E.W.T.s with us and see what Hogwarts is like without constantly having to look behind our back,” Hermione added eagerly. “Ginny will be there too.”
“Yes, I know that Ginny will be there. But I won’t.”
A near suffocating silence fell over them after Harry’s last words. Everyone was staring at him in varying degrees of shock, before Ginny cleared her throat quietly. “Thank you for breaking up with me in front of my whole family,” she said coolly.
“What?” Harry’s head snapped to her, brows furrowing in confusion. “I didn’t say anything about breaking up.”
“Really?” That simple word cut deeper than any cutting curse could. “Because from what I heard, your decision is quite final.”
“What does me not going back to Hogwarts have to do with our relationship?” Harry asked, feeling more and more uncomfortable under the glare of everyone’s attention. Did they really have to talk about their relationship in front of the Weasleys? And why was Ginny staring at him like he was crazy?
“You seriously think that I’ll wait another year for you and then somehow seamlessly fit into your little family even though you didn’t even ask me if I wanted you to take custody of Teddy?” Ginny wasn’t yelling or even speaking loudly, but her voice was steely and unforgiving like she was giving him an ultimatum. And in a way she really was.
“I’m his godfather and he needs me.”
“Because you know so much about raising children, don’t you?”
“I’m willing to learn.”
“And what about becoming an Auror, Harry?” Hermione cut, obviously displeased.
“It’s not the only profession in the world.”
“But it was your dream! And Kingsley—”
“Leave Kingsley out of this,” Harry shot her down immediately. “Being an Auror was the dream of a fifteen-year-old, ignorant kid. Things have changed.”
“I think you’re bonkers, mate,” Ron grumbled. “But I can’t really blame you for ditching another year at Hogwarts.”
“Ronald!”
“What? Sure, he’s out of his mind for wanting to raise a kid this young, but I’m with him on the not going back to Hogwarts part.”
“You’re so irresponsible!”
“My worth and skills can’t be measured by a piece of parchment. And how is it irresponsible of me to want to take care of my godson? Remus had given me the responsibility to look after Teddy if something happened to him and Tonks. And I’m not going to ignore that,” Harry stated clearly, daring Hermione to say something. She pressed her lips together, but remained silent and Harry turned back to Ginny, who was glaring at her plate with a pinched expression on her face. “I made my decision, Ginny. I don’t want to break up with you, but I can’t ask you to wait around for another year.”
Ginny snorted in derision. “That’s your biggest fault, Harry. Your disgustingly noble soul,” she spat and lifted her gaze to meet Harry’s. “You didn’t ask me the first time to wait for you. You didn’t ask me, period. Just broke up with me for my own fucking protection. And now this. You just love playing the martyr, don’t you? Mum just offered you a solution for Teddy’s situation that would allow you to be with your friends and enjoy your freedom for the first time in your life, but you just have to refuse it. Like always.”
“I’m not a martyr, Ginny,” Harry argued, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “But Teddy is my responsibility.”
“You’re 17 years old, for Merlin’s sake!” Ginny snapped. “Why can’t you think of yourself for a change?”
“Don’t you mean think of you?”
“This is not about me! This is about you needing to make your life harder and being unable to accept help from anyone!”
“I let Hermione and Ron come with me hunting for the horcruxes.”
“Because they forced you to do it. You would have gone off alone without telling anyone if it had been up to you. Don’t you dare deny it!”
“Is it so bad that I wanted to protect the people I care for?” Harry snarled, barely realizing that he had stood up from his seat. “Is it so bad that I wanted to protect you from being hunted and possibly killed by Voldemort or his lackeys?”
“We’re old enough to make our own choices!” Ginny was standing too, her brown eyes blazing with fire. “You had no right to make those choices for us! And you’re doing it again!”
“I’m giving you an out to enjoy your last year at Hogwarts to the fullest. Or do you want to be saddled with a baby at sixteen? Because last night it sure didn’t look like it.”
“Yeah, last night I was trying to suck your cock when you dropped that delightful bomb,” Ginny retorted, scowling murderously.
“Ginevra!” Mrs. Weasley shrieked in horror just as Ron uttered a thunderous, “Harry!”, but no one was paying any heed to them.
“‘I’m going to take custody of Teddy.’ is what every girl wants to hear while having a barely responsive dick in her mouth, I’m sure,” Ginny sneered cruelly, once again ignoring her mother’s outraged cries. “But you know what? You win. I’m not desperate enough to try to force you to be with me when it’s obviously not something you want. I refuse to sink so low to beg you to reconsider, because I deserve more than that.”
Harry’s face felt hot, yet he also felt lightheaded. Ginny was right, she definitely deserved more than half-arsed attempts at loving her for who she really was. Still, it was hard to let the images of a happy, fulfilling life with her at Harry’s side go. She was still beautiful, clever and fierce, traits Harry found admirable, but he felt none of the passion that fogged his mind back in sixth year when Ginny was dating Dean.
“You’re right,” he said quietly. “You deserve so much more than what I can give to you.”
“At least you admit it,” Ginny whispered after a long pause. Her voice was steady, but a bit hoarse and Harry just had to admire her self-control and strength. She was truly a brilliant person. “I hope you’ll excuse me for not wishing you a happy life, yet.”
She didn’t wait for an answer just left the kitchen leaving Harry alone with his two best friends and his ex-girlfriend’s mother and older brother. No one spoke for a long time, everyone trying to digest what just had happened. In the end it was George who broke the silence, his voice scratchy from misuse, but not less sarcastic from it.
“Well… that could have gone better,” he said and despite everything that happened that night, Harry couldn’t withhold a snort. The understatement of the year.
Harry sagged against the grandiose wooden door that served as the entrance of 12 Grimmauld Place and heaved a weary sigh. Taking the house off the floo line had been his best idea ever, but even that didn’t stop Mrs. Weasley from coming over at least four times a week to check on him and Teddy. And Harry didn’t want to be ungrateful, but he was getting to the end of his rope from the constant inquiries about his decision to break up with Ginny for the second time and his decision to raise his godson alone when he had several friends and the Weasleys would have been delighted to take the little one in. Harry still remembered the arguments challenging his age, his competence, and the stony silences that followed the aftermath of his break up with Ginny.
Now, almost a year later things were somewhat better. Harry and Teddy had fallen into a routine that involved more than feeding Teddy every four hours and changing his nappies. They spent long hours reading stories and casting ridiculous spells that earned the sweetest smiles from Teddy. Teddy was a delightful baby, who rarely cried or made a fuss, and who, at the tender age of one, refused to call Harry anything but Da. It was both brilliant and heartbreaking, hearing Teddy call out to him in happiness whenever he saw Harry, but a selfish part of Harry wouldn’t change that for the world.
He still didn’t have a job, not that he really needed one with all the gold in his vaults, but that was fine for now. Teddy needed his full attention, especially since he took his first unsteady steps a few months back. With Tonks as his mother, Harry shouldn’t have been surprised that Teddy turned out to be an active baby, wanting to run around the house and climbing stairs constantly. Harry was more than grateful to Hermione for giving him A Mother’s Spell Book as a metaphorical olive branch, because without the very useful protection spells on Teddy and the childproof wards on the staircases, he would have probably lost all his hair from the frustration and panic Teddy’s adventurous nature caused him.
Still, he loved every minute of having Teddy in his life. He loved the snuffly cuddles Teddy gave him every night before Harry put him in his crib. He loved the carefully uttered, but still not really legible words that left Teddy’s mouth as he tried to mimic Harry’s speech. He was such a clever and observant baby, awed by magic and the wonder of the world around him. A small smile curled Harry’s lips as he remembered the first time they visited the lovely little park not far from Grimmauld Place after Teddy started walking. He toddled around with obvious delight on his little face, chasing butterflies and squirrels. Thanks to the cushioning charms, falling hadn’t been a issue and by the time they got back to their home Teddy was fast asleep in Harry’s arms.
A piercing wail tore through the silence in the house, alerting Harry to his godson’s awakening. He hurried up the stairs slightly worried; Teddy didn’t usually woke up during the night anymore. Harry could only hope that it was only a bad dream that woke the baby up and not something more serious, but even his more worrisome thoughts couldn’t have prepared him for the sight that welcomed him upon entering the nursery. Teddy was screaming his little head off with his hands curled around the rails of his crib, which wasn’t surprising in itself. The tiny tufts of blue hair sticking out from his face, the pointed ears and the strangely morphed features, however, were enough to freeze Harry in the doorway. He stared at his godson in shock, unable to form any coherent thoughts. Fortunately, his parental instincts kicked after a few seconds and he strode over to the crib, picking Teddy up without a second thought.
Teddy hid his morphed face into Harry’s neck and gnawed on his shirt, his sobs quieting into hiccups. “Da,” he whined, his little hands clutching Harry’s shirt and somehow managing to tear the material. “Da.”
“I’m here, Teddy. Shhh,” Harry murmured, stroking the violent blue curls on Teddy’s head. “Did you have a bad dream?” he crooned, doing his best to stay calm and collected even though his thoughts were screaming at him that something was wrong with Teddy. Teddy’s head tried to burrow even deeper into Harry’s neck and the baby sniffed a few more times, before quieting down. “See, everything is fine. I’m here and you’re fine. It was just a bad dream.”
Teddy hummed softly and raised his head, his face once back to its natural state. Maybe it had just been a little mishap with his metamorphmagus powers, Harry thought, but couldn’t quite believe his reasoning. There was something familiar in the way Teddy’s features changed. Something animalistic and predatory, yet nothing Harry had ever seen before. Teddy’s eyes shone brightly in the dim light of the nursery, their amber color reminding Harry of the richest firewhiskey the old Ogden could cook up. He was truly a beautiful little boy and Harry loved him with all his heart, which was why he was worried for Teddy and the little episode his godson just had.
He cradled Teddy closer to his chest as he walked over to the window facing the neat little backyard Kreacher and he created from the abandoned, overgrown wilderness that used to stand there. Teddy’s swing was swaying in the light breeze, bathed in the silvery glow of the nearly full moon. Harry looked up at the moon, remembering Remus and that crazy night back in Harry’s third year when everything turned for the worse once again. He saw the sad state Remus’ wolf had been in with its frothing mouth and wildly glowing golden eyes, eyes that were near identical to the ones Teddy flashed at him before he slipped back into the arms of sleep.
Could it be possible? Could Teddy manifest the treats even though the healers had told Tonks and Remus that their son didn’t inherit Remus’ condition? But what did wizards know about werewolves? Most thought they were mindless monsters out for blood and massacre only controlled by the Wolfsbane Potion. The Defence Against the Dark Arts textbooks at Hogwarts claimed werewolves to be dark creatures filled with rage and driven mad by the full moon, calling the condition a curse, and the people carrying it beasts that had to be regarded with fear and distrust. Wizarding laws prohibited werewolves from getting jobs, forcing them to lead miserable, frugal lives. But there had to be more to them than rage and blood lust. Remus Lupin had been the kindest, most gentle man Harry had ever known, with a brilliant mind that had been overshadowed by his condition.
How could he find out more? He couldn’t just go up to a werewolf and ask for their secrets. Not that he knew where to find werewolves, as they tried to stay away from Wizarding affairs since Grayback’s rampage during the war. Still, Harry needed to find out more about the signs Teddy had showed and asking Hermione for help was out of question. They might have made up and were friends again, but Harry didn’t want to give her a new reason for nagging and harping on him to give Teddy to Bill and Fleur who could deal with lycanthropy and any other ails because they were responsible adults and Bill was almost a werewolf himself. It left him with his own mediocre at best research and rusty planning skills, which was far from great, but at least he had the entire Black library to himself. And he used to be a good student who loved to learn before the Dursleys beat it out of him for getting better grades than Dudley.
He gently placed Teddy back into his crib, covering him with his blanket, then with a last glance, he left the nursery and headed to the library. He had a lot of research to do.