FIC: Many Precious Things [Interlude]
Aug. 25th, 2008 07:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
leashy_bebesTitle: Many Precious Things [Interlude #1]
Author: Lyds
Rating: This part, G
Notes: Teddy/James, only James isn't born yet, so not ;) Just lots and lots of Teddy. I couldn’t help myself writing this scene as soon as the idea for it popped into my head. Teddy calls Harry dad by accident.
Disclaimer: JKR’s, not mine. Title is from an Elvis Costello song, When It Sings, and that's not mine either.
Words: This part, about 1100
Harry could watch him all day, this little boy he has helped to raise. He loves Teddy so much, loves the things he says, and the way he's rapidly developing such a personality of his own. Right now he is lying on his stomach on the kitchen floor, industriously scribbling yellow crayon all over a picture Harry had helped him draw of a snitch. At the sink, Ginny is drying plates with quick waves of her wand and Harry just smiles at her when she turns to him with an enquiring look. He flashes his glance to Teddy and Ginny grins, rolling her eyes. However much Ginny insists he's turning into a woman, Harry knows that she loves Teddy too.
"Drink, Teddy?" Harry offers.
"Yes, please," Teddy pipes up, without looking away from his colouring. Harry sets a glass of juice down on the floor near Teddy.
"Thanks, Daddy," Teddy says brightly and Harry freezes. Ginny freezes. Even Teddy freezes, his crayon still on the paper. "Sorry," he says in a tiny voice and Harry bends down to touch his hair.
"It's alright," he says thickly, and straightens up, turning away to open a drawer at random and fiddle blindly with its contents.
God but this takes him back. Harry has very early, very vague memories of calling Aunt Petunia mummy. Before Teddy, memories like that rarely entered his mind, and when they did it was with the same sense of relieved detachment as he always thought of the Durselys now; well that was shit, I'm glad it's over. But now, seeing Teddy, who brims with affection, Harry wonders how she could have looked at his tiny, defenceless, confused little self and hissed, I am not your mummy.
Another time, Harry remembers sorry dad, slipping out in desperation when Uncle Vernon was advancing on him with hate in his eyes over some tiny accidental magic and - You. Are not. My. Son.
It's not so much for his younger self that Harry feels sad and angry, but for the part of himself that he sees in Teddy. He knows that they have a lot in common and in another world - the right world, Harry often thinks - Teddy, Remus' son, would be like Harry's brother. Even the thought of someone causing such pain to Teddy is too much for Harry to handle.
He hears Ginny step up behind him and she wraps her arms around his waist, kisses his shoulder. Harry squeezes her hands and turns to help her with the dishes. Behind him he hears Teddy start drawing again, slower now. Harry takes a slightly shaky breath and Ginny squeezes his forearm. Not long after, Teddy excuses himself to go to the bathroom.
"Bloody hell," Harry mutters as Teddy leaves.
"It'll happen," Ginny says, looking at him with sad eyes. "Just - Come here," she says, pulling him into a hug and tucking herself into him in a way that still makes him giddy after years together. They hold each other in silence for a while before Harry kisses her temple and she pokes him in the ribs.
He laughs and steps back, flicking her with water from the sink.
“Think Teddy’s alright?” Harry asks casually.
“Harry, back off a bit. He’s using the loo.”
“Yeah,” Harry nods. “He’s just been a while.”
“Not really,” Ginny says, wrinkling her nose. “Leave him be.”
Five minutes later though, she looks over at Harry’s troubled face and nods towards the stairs.
“Go on, then,” she says, and Harry shoots her a grateful look before heading quietly up the stairs.
The bathroom is second on the right and the door is shut but not locked. Harry took off the physical lock when Teddy was three and locked himself in. It had taken an increasingly frantic Harry thirty minutes to persuade his laughing godson, through a locked door, to open it again and please please come out before your grandmother gets here.
Grinning a little, Harry knocks on the door.
“Hang – hang on a minute!” Teddy calls and the grin slides away like water. He sounds frantic and Harry nudges the door open a little.
Teddy is sitting on the floor next to the bath, desperately trying to stem his tears with a soaked piece of tissue.
"Oh - oh, hey," Harry says, his voice breaking at the sight.
"S - sorry," Teddy says, scrubbing at his face.
"Oh, kiddo. Come here."
Teddy shakes his head but Harry steps into the bathroom anyway and sits down next to Teddy, cross legged. Harry offers his hand and Teddy takes it instantly, squeezing tight. Harry gives into the impulse that came over him as soon as he saw the tears and lifts Teddy bodily into his lap, cradling him close.
"I'm sorry," Teddy says again. "I shouldn't - "
"It's alright," Harry whispers into his hair. "Really it is. I used to do it too. It's okay. It's alright. Shh, shh, shh."
"I know you're not my daddy," Teddy says, and he sounds desperate to make it clear to Harry.
"I know you do. It's alright, I love you, it's okay."
"It just - makes me sad sometimes," Teddy says with a sniff, brushing at his eyes again.
"I know," Harry says, and he feels completely useless because he does know, he really does, but how does he explain that to a five and a half year old? Teddy hugs him tightly though, and Harry rubs a hand gently up and down the boy's back. "Your mummy and daddy both loved you so much," he says softly.
"I know," Teddy nods. "It's okay, I'm being silly."
"No you're not," Harry says, almost fiercely, and makes an effort to modify his tone at Teddy's sudden tension. "Look, I still miss my mum and dad all the time, and I never got to meet them either, not properly. It's alright to be sad, even if you don't remember them. Or… Or because you don't remember them."
Teddy nods again, vehemently this time, against Harry's chest. "Yes," he says around a final dry, hitching sob. "Yes, that's it."
Harry uses his thumb to wipe tears and scraps of tissue from Teddy's cheeks and they sit quietly for another ten minutes before Teddy wriggles away.
“I want to wash my face,” he says, and Harry takes the hint, running his hand over Teddy’s hair and leaving the room. He waits at the bottom of the stairs and when Teddy comes down, still quiet, but looking a little happier, Harry hustles him out to the garden to play.
[chapter 2]
Author: Lyds
Rating: This part, G
Notes: Teddy/James, only James isn't born yet, so not ;) Just lots and lots of Teddy. I couldn’t help myself writing this scene as soon as the idea for it popped into my head. Teddy calls Harry dad by accident.
Disclaimer: JKR’s, not mine. Title is from an Elvis Costello song, When It Sings, and that's not mine either.
Words: This part, about 1100
Harry could watch him all day, this little boy he has helped to raise. He loves Teddy so much, loves the things he says, and the way he's rapidly developing such a personality of his own. Right now he is lying on his stomach on the kitchen floor, industriously scribbling yellow crayon all over a picture Harry had helped him draw of a snitch. At the sink, Ginny is drying plates with quick waves of her wand and Harry just smiles at her when she turns to him with an enquiring look. He flashes his glance to Teddy and Ginny grins, rolling her eyes. However much Ginny insists he's turning into a woman, Harry knows that she loves Teddy too.
"Drink, Teddy?" Harry offers.
"Yes, please," Teddy pipes up, without looking away from his colouring. Harry sets a glass of juice down on the floor near Teddy.
"Thanks, Daddy," Teddy says brightly and Harry freezes. Ginny freezes. Even Teddy freezes, his crayon still on the paper. "Sorry," he says in a tiny voice and Harry bends down to touch his hair.
"It's alright," he says thickly, and straightens up, turning away to open a drawer at random and fiddle blindly with its contents.
God but this takes him back. Harry has very early, very vague memories of calling Aunt Petunia mummy. Before Teddy, memories like that rarely entered his mind, and when they did it was with the same sense of relieved detachment as he always thought of the Durselys now; well that was shit, I'm glad it's over. But now, seeing Teddy, who brims with affection, Harry wonders how she could have looked at his tiny, defenceless, confused little self and hissed, I am not your mummy.
Another time, Harry remembers sorry dad, slipping out in desperation when Uncle Vernon was advancing on him with hate in his eyes over some tiny accidental magic and - You. Are not. My. Son.
It's not so much for his younger self that Harry feels sad and angry, but for the part of himself that he sees in Teddy. He knows that they have a lot in common and in another world - the right world, Harry often thinks - Teddy, Remus' son, would be like Harry's brother. Even the thought of someone causing such pain to Teddy is too much for Harry to handle.
He hears Ginny step up behind him and she wraps her arms around his waist, kisses his shoulder. Harry squeezes her hands and turns to help her with the dishes. Behind him he hears Teddy start drawing again, slower now. Harry takes a slightly shaky breath and Ginny squeezes his forearm. Not long after, Teddy excuses himself to go to the bathroom.
"Bloody hell," Harry mutters as Teddy leaves.
"It'll happen," Ginny says, looking at him with sad eyes. "Just - Come here," she says, pulling him into a hug and tucking herself into him in a way that still makes him giddy after years together. They hold each other in silence for a while before Harry kisses her temple and she pokes him in the ribs.
He laughs and steps back, flicking her with water from the sink.
“Think Teddy’s alright?” Harry asks casually.
“Harry, back off a bit. He’s using the loo.”
“Yeah,” Harry nods. “He’s just been a while.”
“Not really,” Ginny says, wrinkling her nose. “Leave him be.”
Five minutes later though, she looks over at Harry’s troubled face and nods towards the stairs.
“Go on, then,” she says, and Harry shoots her a grateful look before heading quietly up the stairs.
The bathroom is second on the right and the door is shut but not locked. Harry took off the physical lock when Teddy was three and locked himself in. It had taken an increasingly frantic Harry thirty minutes to persuade his laughing godson, through a locked door, to open it again and please please come out before your grandmother gets here.
Grinning a little, Harry knocks on the door.
“Hang – hang on a minute!” Teddy calls and the grin slides away like water. He sounds frantic and Harry nudges the door open a little.
Teddy is sitting on the floor next to the bath, desperately trying to stem his tears with a soaked piece of tissue.
"Oh - oh, hey," Harry says, his voice breaking at the sight.
"S - sorry," Teddy says, scrubbing at his face.
"Oh, kiddo. Come here."
Teddy shakes his head but Harry steps into the bathroom anyway and sits down next to Teddy, cross legged. Harry offers his hand and Teddy takes it instantly, squeezing tight. Harry gives into the impulse that came over him as soon as he saw the tears and lifts Teddy bodily into his lap, cradling him close.
"I'm sorry," Teddy says again. "I shouldn't - "
"It's alright," Harry whispers into his hair. "Really it is. I used to do it too. It's okay. It's alright. Shh, shh, shh."
"I know you're not my daddy," Teddy says, and he sounds desperate to make it clear to Harry.
"I know you do. It's alright, I love you, it's okay."
"It just - makes me sad sometimes," Teddy says with a sniff, brushing at his eyes again.
"I know," Harry says, and he feels completely useless because he does know, he really does, but how does he explain that to a five and a half year old? Teddy hugs him tightly though, and Harry rubs a hand gently up and down the boy's back. "Your mummy and daddy both loved you so much," he says softly.
"I know," Teddy nods. "It's okay, I'm being silly."
"No you're not," Harry says, almost fiercely, and makes an effort to modify his tone at Teddy's sudden tension. "Look, I still miss my mum and dad all the time, and I never got to meet them either, not properly. It's alright to be sad, even if you don't remember them. Or… Or because you don't remember them."
Teddy nods again, vehemently this time, against Harry's chest. "Yes," he says around a final dry, hitching sob. "Yes, that's it."
Harry uses his thumb to wipe tears and scraps of tissue from Teddy's cheeks and they sit quietly for another ten minutes before Teddy wriggles away.
“I want to wash my face,” he says, and Harry takes the hint, running his hand over Teddy’s hair and leaving the room. He waits at the bottom of the stairs and when Teddy comes down, still quiet, but looking a little happier, Harry hustles him out to the garden to play.
[chapter 2]
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-08-25 06:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-25 06:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-25 06:44 pm (UTC)I could totally imagine Petunia and Vernon saying something that horrible to poor Harry and I really wanted to slap them both for it. Harry handled it MUCH better.
This KILLED me: "I know you're not my daddy," Teddy says, and he sounds desperate to make it clear to Harry.
"I know you do. It's alright, I love you, it's okay."
"It just - makes me sad sometimes," Teddy says with a sniff, brushing at his eyes again.
Excellent!
no subject
Date: 2008-08-25 06:57 pm (UTC)Really glad you liked it. Much as Harry frustrates me as a kid, I love him as the father figure :)
no subject
Date: 2008-08-25 07:44 pm (UTC)I must say I mostly feel sorry for him. I'd HATE JKR if I were him. First, she seems to kill everyone he loves (his parents, Sirius, Dumbledore, Hedwig, Remus, etc.). But, perhaps worst of all, she deliberately makes him clueless so that the readers can learn as he does. I'd be less than amused if I were Harry!
no subject
Date: 2008-08-27 08:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-27 09:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-08-28 11:28 am (UTC)