“HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRYYYYYYYYYYY!” shouted Teddy, as he ran down the hall towards the figure that was standing at the front door.
“Be careful Teddy,” Andromeda called from the kitchen. “Not too fast.”
Harry bent down and picked up his Godson, as he jumped in the air to give Harry a hug. Harry spun him around and around. Teddy laughed, threw his arms around Harry’s neck and hugged him tight. Then, right on cue, Teddy screwed up his face in concentration and suddenly, his hair became a messy jet-black.
“Hiya Ted,” Harry said simply.
“I’m getting better,” Teddy said proudly, as he pointed at his newly changed hair, “see?”
“You’re getting better every time,” Harry replied, smiling warmly.
Harry put his Godson down, and looked him over for a few seconds. He was taller than ever, and his face seemed longer. Nevertheless, he still possessed the familiar mop of bright turquoise hair and those brilliantly brown eyes that seemed to house the whole world. Quickly, however, Harry noticed the grazed elbows and bruised cheek, indicating the boy’s latest accident. He was the clumsiest kid alive.
“Harry! Harry! Harry! Harry!” Teddy shouted happily, jumping up and down excitedly.
“Teddy! Teddy! Teddy! Teddy!” Harry shouted back, laughing.
“I want to tell you a secret,” Teddy whispered.
Harry bent down so his Godson could whisper in his ear.
“My Mummy died in a big battle,” Teddy said, “a big battle where all the good wizards beated all the bad wizards and you - you,” Teddy’s voice had dropped to the mutest whisper, “you beated You-Know-Who”
Harry smiled. “Did I really?”
“Yes,” Teddy said excitedly. “That’s why you’re on the chocolate frog cards! Nana told me. And she told me that my Mummy was a hero. She beated all the bad wizards.”
“Well, your Nan’s dead right,” said Harry. “Your Mum and your Dad,” he deliberately emphasised these words, “died beating all the bad wizards and saving the world.” Teddy’s eyes widened with glee at the thought of his parents being heroes, dying while saving the world from Voldemort.
After a moment, Teddy started jumping excitedly again. “I want to show you something,” he said quickly, grabbing Harry’s hand and dragging him forwards.
Merlin, this kid is strong, Harry thought, as Teddy pulled him up the carpeted stairs, lined with photos of Ted, Tonks, Andromeda and Teddy Lupin himself. “Hi Andromeda!” Harry shouted as he reached the landing.
“Hello Harry,” Andromeda replied brightly, her voice muffled as it was carried up through the landing floor.
Teddy ran, pulling Harry in tow, across the landing into his bedroom. He pushed the door open and let go of Harry’s hand as he sprinted for his bed.
Harry took a moment to look around the room. He liked it. A large poster of a wolf, where the creature moved and howled at the full moon, dominated the back wall. Wolf, the teddy Harry had given his Godson when he was a baby, lay on the moon-patterned covers of the bed. Wolf was dirty and messy, indicating that Teddy dragged it with him everywhere. Hovering toy owls flew in circles around the ceiling just above the bed. A toy broomstick, that Harry had given Teddy for his fifth birthday, lay in a corner. One of George’s headless Hats sat on top of the toy-box. A signed poster of the Quidditch team: The Holy Head Harpies covered the side-wall. Ginny’s face stood out immediately from those of her team-mates. She was displaying that blazing look that Harry loved so much. Model wolves paced up and down the window sill. A large sponge ball stood propped against the corner of the wall. There was a bookcase full of books with moving illustrations, and books that read themselves out-loud so Teddy could listen. Pictures of wolves, cut out from story-books, text-books and newspapers, covered the wardrobe. There were even pictures of Harry taken out of newspapers and books stuck onto Teddy’s wall. A framed photograph of Teddy and Andromeda sat on the bed-side table, with a lamp in the shape of a phoenix, which glowed in a way that made it look like it was on fire. Teddy’s scribbled drawings of owls and wolves, and of himself, Harry and Andromeda were covering every centimetre of empty wall space.
After examining the room for a moment, Harry watched Teddy pull, from under his bed, a battered, peeling, old cardboard box that used to contain several bottles of Mrs. Scower’s All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover. His eyes alive with excitement, Teddy removed the lid and showed Harry what was inside. It contained Teddy’s most valuable treasures. There were: chocolate frog cards, a bag of only red Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans, three stray Gobstones, a model snitch, a stick that Teddy used as a pretend wand, a whistle, and a completely unmagical model of a wolf that Muggle children would play with. However, there was one thing that stood out amongst the others: a stack of photos enclosed in a rubber band.
“That’s my Mummy!” Teddy said excitedly, pulling out a photo from the pile and pointing at Tonks. She was with two girls Harry did not recognise, and judging by the background, her t-shirt, and how everyone was dancing around, this photo was taken at a Weird Sisters concert.
“She was able to change her hair too, like me,” Teddy explained proudly, “and she was an Auror, like you Harry!”
“I know Ted,” said Harry smiling.
“You know my Mummy?”
“’Course I do Ted.”
Teddy did not speak for a long time; instead he ran is finger across the surface of the photograph. “Where is she?” he asked, his eyes never leaving the picture in front of him.
“She died Ted, in the big battle, remember?” Harry said, trying to be gentle.
Teddy did not reply, he simply continued to show Harry all the photos in his collection, pointing out his mother in each one. Harry took the pile of photos and flicked through them, smiling. Tonks was with several Hufflepuff-robed friends, she playing Quidditch, she running around the back-garden, she was proudly wearing Auror’s robes on her first day at work, and she was opening presents at Christmas. In another photo, she looked sad and upset. Her hair was mousy-brown. Harry wondered if this had been taken at some point after Sirius’s death, when Remus refused to admit his feelings for her. In a different photo, she was wearing her brand-new Hogwarts robes, her eyes alive with excitement, mixed with a small hint of nervousness. Harry continued to gaze at the photos, seeing Tonks standing arm and arm with her parents, laughing with Sirius, changing her appearance for Hermione and Ginny, and blowing out the candles on her birthday cake.
Harry had a kind of happy ache inside him. He smiled when he saw the photographs, but at the same time, his heart was attacked by grief as he remembered that all this was a life lost, a life cruelly taken away by Voldemort.
“Harry?” Teddy asked slowly, his eye-brows lowered in thought. “Do I have a Daddy?”
“Course you do Ted,” said Harry, shocked that Teddy would ask such a thing. “Didn’t your Nan tell you about him?”
“Yes, but she was lying!”
Harry was shocked by this statement, utterly shocked. “How was she lying?” was all he was able to say.
Teddy got up and went to his bed-side locker and from under a story-book about Martin Miggs, the Mad Muggle, he picked up a photo and handed it to Harry. It was of Remus and Tonks on their wedding day. Tonks was beaming with happiness, her arm around her husband’s waist. Remus, however, stood at her side, rigid and stiff, and though he was smiling, he looked deeply troubled. All and all, not the best photo of Remus ever taken. Harry had seen many other wedding photos where Remus looked much happier and less pained.
“Nana says he’s my Daddy,” Teddy said, point his finger at Remus, “but I don’t believe her.”
Harry felt a wave of heat wash over him as his heart began to beat faster with shock and horror. “Why don’t you Ted?” Harry asked, his voice strangely hollow.
“’Cause he’s not my Daddy.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because he’s old and tired and sad and my Daddy wasn’t old and tired and sad!” Teddy said, his voice angry as he believed he had been told a lie.
“Ah Ted, he’s not old,” Harry said, seriously. “He’s only 38, that’s not old.”
“That’s really old Harry,” Teddy corrected. “Really really old. That man’s really old and tired and sad, and my Daddy wasn’t any of those things.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because my Mummy was always happy, so she wouldn’t marry someone who was sad and old.”
“What has your Nan been telling you Ted?” Harry asked innocently, though his motives were far from innocent.
“She was telling me all about my Mummy, how she was in Hufflepuff, and how she always fell over, like me, and how she played Quidditch and how she was an Auror and how she listened to music and beated all the bad-wizards,” Teddy listed enthusiastically.
“And what about your Dad, what did she tell you about him?”
“Only that he’s a teacher in Hogwarts and she gived me that photo of him.”
“Is this the only photo you have?”
“I’ll get you more Ted,” Harry said firmly.
“NO!” Teddy shouted.
“Why not Ted?”
“Because that’s not my Daddy!”
“He is Ted,” Harry said, trying not to sound stern.
“He is Ted.”
“He isn’t! Isn’t! Isn’t!”
“Listen Ted,” Harry said gently, “I knew your Dad, he was my teacher in school, and I knew him outside Hogwarts too. That’s him Ted, I swear and I would never tell you lies, you know that, right?”
“I don’t want him to be my Daddy.”
Harry’s eyes burned, as a memory flooded back to him, of Remus in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, grabbing fists-full of his own hair, as he shouted: And if, by some miracle, it is not like me, than it would be better off, a hundred times so, without a father of whom it must always be ashamed. *1
Harry knew that had Remus heard Teddy’s words, they would have caused him irrevocable damage. “Why Ted?” Harry asked, sounding both grave and hurt. “Why don’t you want him to be your Dad?”
“Because he’s old and tired and sad and my Daddy wasn’t.”
“You’ve only seen one photo Ted, you can’t know your Dad from one photo,” Harry said, almost pleading with his Godson to understand, but Teddy wasn’t listening. He was now busy playing with his chocolate frog cards. He handed one to Harry.
“This is my favourite,” he said.
Harry took the card and examined it. It was of himself: Harry Potter, the boy who defeated the Dark Lord (twice). The card-Harry was smiling awkwardly and looked extremely uncomfortable being on display.
Harry sighed and returned the card to Teddy, “That’s great Ted,” he said weakly, “really great.”
Harry decided to let the matter of Remus rest, for the time being, but there was no way on earth, that he was going to let Teddy go on thinking that Remus Lupin wasn’t his father. So Harry returned to Grimmauld Place that evening, after spending the whole day playing with Teddy, while his thoughts grew troubled with the fact that Teddy was disowning his father.
Harry opened the front door. “It’s me,” he called.
“We’re in the kitchen!” Hermione called back.
Harry walked down the hall to join them. The house had been totally renovated and looked completely unrecognisable from the grim, black and dark head-quarters of the Orderof the Phoenix. The Weasleys and Hermione had helped Harry fix it up. The hallway was now brightly painted, with no peeling, dusty wallpaper, decapitated house-elf heads or disturbing pictures and, not to mention, there was no longer a floating dust figure of Dumbledore’s dead body. The portrait of Mrs Black had been removed, granted, they had to remove the entire wall in order to get rid of the portrait, thanks to its permanent sticking charm. But the place was now more homely and pleasant without her horrible shrieks and insults. A new carpeted floor had been put down, and every room had been redecorated. All the dark objects had been removed and all the household pests exterminated. Although, Harry had left Sirius’s bedroom untouched, aside from giving it some heavy-duty dusting. The room looked as it always had done. Harry had decided to keep it, with its Gryffindor banners and motorbike posters, as a monument to his Godfather.
Kreacher was still in the house, usually found pottering around in the kitchen. He was bent over with age, with tufts of snow-white hair growing out of his ears. Nevertheless, he was as quick on his feet as Harry was and could move noiselessly from room to room. All in all, Number 12 was now a real home, clean, neat and welcoming. Harry often wondered what Sirius would have said if he had seen the house as it was now.
Harry walked down the stairs into the basement kitchen, which was painted a cheery yellow colour, where his two best friends sat drinking tea around a brand new table. Ron was looking over the latest murder file from the Auror office, while Hermione was skimming through The Evening Prophet. Ginny, it appeared, was still at Quidditch training.
“How is Teddy?” Hermione asked, putting down the newspaper.
“Fine,” Harry replied, not having the heart to tell them both what the child had said about Remus.
After a cup of tea, and a brief conversation with Ron and Hermione about mundane things, such as: Ministry mess-ups, the recent Quidditch matches and the weather, Harry went up stairs, running his hands along the smooth wooden banisters as he did so. His destination was Sirius’s room. He opened the door, and made straight for the photograph of Sirius, James, Remus and Pettigrew that was permanently stuck to the wall. Harry had tried on several occasions to remove it, with no success, but now he thought he had come up with a way.
“Hermione?” he called.
“Yes?” her voice replied, muffled by the distance from the kitchen to Sirius’s room.
“Could you come upstairs?” Harry asked, “I need your help with something.”
Hermione walked rather quickly up the stairs, Ron at her heels. “Harry, where are you?”
“In here!” Harry replied, as his two friends opened the bedroom door.
“What’s wrong?” Hermione asked.
“I was wondering if you could magically copy this photo for me?” Harry asked, pointing at the picture on the wall.
“Sure,” Hermione replied as her eyes gave Harry a perplexed look. She pointed her wand at the photo, and flicked it as she uttered some well-chosen words. There was a flash of light, and suddenly, a copy of the photo peeled off the original and floated down to the ground as gently as a leaf.
“Hermione, did I ever tell you how brilliant you are?” Ron said, as he watched the photo fall to the ground. Hermione blushed.
“Can you copy it again?” Harry asked, as he picked up the new photograph and examined it.
“What is wrong with that one?” Hermione asked, a little hurt that Harry was not impressed with her spell-work.
“Nothing,” Harry replied honestly. “I just want two copies, that’s all.”
“Who’s the other one for?” Ron asked.
“Me,” Harry said.
“Then who’s the first one for?” Ron asked, growing confused.
“Teddy,” Harry replied.
“Ah right,” Ron replied, comprehension dawning.
Hermione flicked her wand again, and another copy of the picture burst into being. Harry picked it up. “Thanks,” he uttered.
“You’re welcome,” Hermione said. Harry was grateful she did not enquire into the matter any further. He didn’t think he had the strength in him right now to explain that Teddy had effectively disowned his father.
The three of them went downstairs, where they were met by the smell of Sheppard’s Pie. Kreacher must be nearly finished making dinner.
The following morning, before work, Harry sent an owl to Andromeda, asking if she still had any of Remus’s old things. If she had kept anything, Harry wanted to look it, in the hope of finding some photographs. Andromeda wrote back that evening, saying she had one or two boxes in the attic that might be of interest.
On Saturday, Harry went to Andromeda’s house. The place was deserted, just as he had planned. He waved his wand and the door opened. Harry had asked Andromeda to take Teddy out for the day, so he could be free to peruse what was left of Remus’s possessions. If Teddy had been here, Harry wouldn’t have been able to get any worked done, as Teddy would want all Harry’s attention, and Harry would want, more than anything, to give him that.
Harry walked up the stairs, and levitated the ladder into the attic down with his wand. He climbed up. It was dark, the only light coming from a small hole in the roof, through which some sunlight meandered its way in. The air was hot and stale, making breathing a little difficult. Harry lit his wand and raised it above his head so has to gain a good look at his surroundings. The floor consisted of old wooden planks, and Harry had to crouch to avoid hitting his head on the roof’s supporting beams. Dust covered everything. There were old pieces of miss-matched furniture, and boxes, upon boxes, full of Merlin knew what. However, Harry found that three boxes had been laid out in the middle of the floor marked: Remus Lupin, in hurried scribbles.
Heart hammering, Harry opened the boxes and went through their contents. There were mostly books about dark creatures and various defensive spells. He found Remus’s old suitcase, with the words: Professor R.J. Lupin stamped across it in faded, peeling letters. Remus’s old robes had been folded neatly in the box. They were frayed, and dusty and covered in holes. There were two pairs of old, batted shoes, a comb, a rusted razor, and a scratched, broken, old pocket-watch, obviously given to Remus when he came of age. Unconsciously, Harry closed his fingers around the watch in his pocket that once belonged to Fabian Prewett.
Unsurprising to Harry, Remus had very few possessions, aside from his clothes and his books. Harry’s heart began to hammer in his chest, fearful that he would not find what he was desperately looking for. Only one item was left remained unlooked at: a shoe box. Harry took the lid off, expecting to find a third pair of old shoes, when suddenly, his heart shot up into his throat. This box was full of photographs.
Heart pounding his excitement, Harry picked up a pile of pictures and began to look at them. He saw Remus as a baby, with two people who most certainly had to be his parents. Harry wondered what had happened to this couple, he had never had the chance of asking Remus. He saw Remus as a small child running around the garden, sitting on his father’s knee, playing with toys with his mother, and flying around on a toy broomstick. This had to be before Remus had been bitten. He was such a happy, innocent and carefree child. There wasn’t many photos of Remus’s childhood after this and Harry didn’t need to ask why. Remus had been bitten, he had been cursed, and his happiness stolen from him.
Soon, Harry spotted a photo of Remus on his very first day of school. He was thin and troubled, but at least he looked anything but shabby in his new school robes. Harry next found a large collection of photos of Remus and the Marauders at school. The photo on Sirius’s wall was only a small sample of the collection of photos from this era. Harry’s heart leapt every time he saw his father’s face. He saw picture where the Marauders were lazing about under the tree by the lake. In others, they were joking around in the Gryffindor common room or waving Gyrffindor banners and scarves while they surrounded James, who was wearing Quidditch robes. There were photos of James and Sirius hoisting the Quidditch cup. There were photos of Remus reading quietly while James, Sirius and Peter laughed. Another photo was of James releasing and catching a snitch, while Peter clapped enthusiastically.
Next, Harry came across photos of the four friends, and Lily, drinking and laughing at Christmas-time. He found a copy of the picture of the original Order of the Phoenix, the exact duplicate of the one Harry owned. Harry’s heart suddenly skipped a beat, as he came across photographs of himself as a scarless, black-haired baby. His mother was cradling him in an armchair. James was spinning Harry around and around. Sirius was making bubbles with his wand for Harry’s amusement. Remus was reading Harry a story. James was showing Harry how to ride a broom. Harry feasted on these images in front of him, and soon noticed that there were tears in his eyes. He blinked them away and moved to look at the other photos in the box.
There were very few photos capturing the period between his parents death, Sirius’s imprisonment, and the founding of the second Order of the Phoenix. However, he did find an old newspaper clipping containing the report about Sirius’s arrest and Pettigrew’s murder.
Next, Harry came across a few photos of Sirius, Remus and Tonks in Grimmauld Place, laughing and joking like old friends. Harry however, could not miss the loving-look Tonks was giving the oblivious Remus. Harry also pulled out an old blue-print of the Department of Mysterious, where the Hall of Prophecy had been marked in red ink.
Harry found that the next group of photos were those of Remus’s and Tonks’s wedding day. The ceremony had been small, with only a small gathering of friends. Harry wished he had been there. He did notice, however, that in just under half of the wedding photos, Remus looked deeply troubled. Harry could not blame Teddy for not wanting this miserable man to be his father. Nevertheless, in the other half of photos, Remus was beaming with genuine happiness, as though he was finally allowing himself to forget all his troubles and just enjoy the happy day. Harry wondered why Andromeda did not show Teddy some of these happy photos instead of that horrible one Teddy hid from the world under a book.
The final collection of photos was of baby Teddy. Harry found himself smiling warmly as he saw his Godson has a tiny baby. Remus was happier than Harry had ever seen him, when he was cradling Teddy. It appeared that all his worries, troubles and misgivings had been washed away with the birth of his son.
Harry was angry now. He was angry with Andromeda for not showing these photos to Teddy. If Teddy had seen this happy picture, there was no doubt in Harry’s mind that Teddy would have been very glad that Remus was his father.
Harry quickly put all the photographs back into the shoe box and took them with him as he left the house, returning to Grimmauld Place, where he, Ron, and Hermione spent every evening for the next week pouring over them. Ron would point at certain ones, laughing or making jokes. Hermione kept making comments like: ‘Aw, Harry, you were such a cute baby’ or ‘Harry, you really are the spitting image of your Dad’ or ‘Isn’t Teddy adorable?” or ‘This is a great one of Remus!’. Hermione made copies of all the photographs Harry found, so that both Harry and Teddy could have their own photo for keeps. Ron was in charge of cutting Peter Pettigrew out of all the pictures. Harry didn’t want Teddy to know that man even existed. Then, the three of them put the photos in order and stuck them inside a large leather-bound photo album for Teddy, as Hagrid had done for Harry, many moons ago now.
The following Saturday, unknown to Teddy, Harry entered Andromeda’s house, clutching the photo album tightly in one hand. He gave Andromeda a rather stiff greeting. He still harboured anger towards her for not showing Teddy proper photos of Remus. But that no longer mattered, today, Harry would but things right.
He walked up the stairs, moving noiselessly. The door of Teddy’s room was ajar. Harry pushed it open gently without making a sound. His Godson was lying on his stomach in the middle of floor, playing with his teddy-wolf Harry had given him, and all his other toy wolves. Harry watched Teddy quietly for a moment. The boy was commanding his wolves to follow Harry Potter and ‘Nim-fu-door-a’, Harry laughed at Teddy’s childish way at pronouncing his mother’s name, into battle to beat all the bad wizards and save Hogwarts (which was represented by a large scribbled drawing of a castle, made by Teddy himself).
Harry watched Teddy for a few moments, enjoying the happy look on his Godson’s face as he played with his toys, in his own imaginary world. “Hiya Ted,” he said, after a few moments.
Teddy jumped, dropping his teddy-wolf. He then jumped up and ran at Harry, shouting with excitement. Harry hugged his Godson. “Nana didn’t tell me you was coming,” Teddy said, his face full of joy at the sight of his Godfather.
“I wanted to surprise you!” Harry said.
“I like this surprise,” replied as Harry put him down.
“Well, I actually have another surprise for you,” Harry said, as he walked over and sat on the bed.
Teddy’s grin grew, “What?”
“Close your eyes,” Harry instructed, “and don’t peak,” he added, once he saw Teddy squinting out of his shut eyes. Teddy closed his eyes more tightly, and Harry pulled out the photo album, “Ta-da!” he said brightly.
“Is it a story-book?” Teddy asked, looking at the leather bound book Harry was holding.
“Sort of,” Harry said, handing the album to Teddy. “It’s a story book about your Dad.”
“My real Daddy?” Teddy asked excitedly.
“Your real Dad,” Harry repeated.
Teddy sat on the bed next to Harry and opened the album, as his eyes feasted on the photos on the first page.
“That’s me!” Teddy exclaimed, pointing at a picture of Remus as a very small child, before he was bitten, “Only ... only, my hair’s different.”
Harry smiled. “That’s not you Ted, that’s your Dad, that’s Remus.”
“But he looks like me!”
“I think it’s more of a case that you look like him,” Harry replied, smiling.
Teddy stared hungrily at the photo, his large brown eyes drinking in the image in front of him. Gradually, his eyes moved from one photo to the next, soaking up the new face in front of him, the face of his father.
“Who’s that?” Teddy asked, pointing at an 11-year old James.
“That’s my Dad,” Harry said proudly.
“But you’re big!” Teddy said.
“But I still have a Dad,” Harry said, half-laughing.
“But you’re big and your Dad is small.” Teddy said, his face housing a confused expression.
“Yes, but this is a picture of my Dad taken a long, long time ago, before I was born.”
Teddy didn’t say anything, but continued to look at the other photos. “Who’s that?” he asked again, pointing at a picture of Sirius.
“That’s my Godfather,” Harry said, “when he was very small.”
Teddy looked at the photo with great interest. “Where is he now?”
“He died, he was killed by very bad wizards,” Harry said.
“I like him!” Teddy said instantly and Harry grinned.
Teddy continued to look at all the photos in the album. He got Harry to point out Remus in each one. But soon, Teddy was able to recognise his father without Harry’s help.
Finally, Teddy turned to the pages devoted to Remus’s and Tonks’s wedding. He lowered his eyebrows in confusion as he stared at the happy newlywed couple. Without a word, Teddy stood up and collected the hidden photo from his bedside locker. He sat back down the put the photo beside the photo in the album and looked at them both. Remus was unmistakably the same man in both photos, but in the one in the album, he looked happy, young and whole, as if the shadow of the wolf was not buried deep inside him.
“I don’t understand,” Teddy said. “They are the same,” he pointed at Remus in both pictures, “but they are different too.”
“That’s because that’s your Dad in both pictures,” Harry explained.
Teddy’s eyes flitted back and forth from photo to photo trying to make sense of it. “He looks happy in this picture,” Teddy said, pointing to the photo in the album, “but he looks sad in this one,” he held up the photo in his hand.
“Everyone gets sad Ted,” Harry said.
“Why is he sad when he’s marrying my Mummy?” Teddy asked.
“I don’t really know Ted,” Harry lied. “Maybe he was just scared.”
“Yes, scared,” Harry replied.
“My Mummy’s not scary,” Teddy pointed out.
“No she wasn’t,” Harry said, “But getting married is.”
“Why?” Teddy asked.
“You’ll understand one day,” Harry said.
“Because you’ll be older and wiser.”
Teddy didn’t reply but returned his gaze to both photos. “This is my Daddy,” he said, pointing to the album, “and so is he?” he held up the bad photo again.
“Yes,” Harry said firmly, “I promise.”
“I like this one better,” Teddy said, pointing at the album again.
“Me too,” Harry replied, “that is more like what your Dad looked like in real life.”
Teddy got up and threw the photo in his hand in the bin by his wardrobe, before returning to the bed and sitting down. “I like the new picture better,” he said. “Because my Daddy looks like my Daddy in it.”
Harry ruffled Teddy’s hair, “Me too, Ted.”
Teddy returned his gaze to the photo album. “But I want this picture!” he said, flicking back to a page near the beginning. He started pulling at the picture of Remus when he was small, when he looked just like Teddy, but with different hair.
“You can keep them all Ted,” Harry said, placing his hand on Teddy’s to stop the boy from ripping the photo to shreds. “I made this book for you.”
“But I want this one!” Teddy persisted, pointing at the photo, “I want it to be outside the photo-book.”
Harry understood what Teddy meant now. He smiled and said “OK”, as he pointed his wand at the page and muttered: “Diffindo”. The photo fell out of the album, and Teddy quickly snatched it up, as though afraid someone would steal it from him. He held the photo to his chest, wanting, more than anything, to hug some small piece of his father. Then, Teddy took the photo, and put it tenderly under his pillow, before he scooped up the photo album and put it in his special box, beside the photos of his mother.
After stowing his treasure-box carefully under his bed, he climbed up and crawled onto Harry’s lap. He leaned in against his Godfather’s chest, as Harry put his arms around him. He picked at the material of Harry’s T-shirt for a few moments.
“Tell me Harry,” Teddy said quietly.
“Tell you what, Ted?” Harry asked gently
“Tell me all about my Daddy.”
*1 Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, p.176 (UK edition).
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