Covenant and Consecration
Author magnolia_mama
Title: Covenant and Consecration
Challenge: 19. Harry forgets about his role as godfather until someone reminds him. Now he has to decide what's best for his godson.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 6,488
Notes: Many thanks to katieay, shyshutterbug, lina_granger, and dreamcoat_mom for their able assistance in getting this ready for public consumption. One thing, since they all brought this up: the only time Teddy's full name is given it's "Ted Remus Lupin," so I went with that instead of "Theodore."
Harry made a point to attend the funeral of everyone who died fighting against Voldemort in the Battle of Hogwarts. It wasn't easy. Some days during that first week he went to as many as seven or eight funerals; more than once, he'd had to use a Time-Turner that Kingsley had managed to scrounge up just to make it to all of them.
The hardest part was dealing with the bereaved. Some families had suffered more than one loss that day. For so many of them, the dead were children or young adults just starting out in life, contemporaries of Harry's at Hogwarts. No matter how difficult it was, however, Harry went to them all. He saw it as a debt of honor: he felt he owed it to the dead, and to their families, to thank each one personally for their sacrifice.
He didn't think he'd make it through Fred's funeral. He could hardly bring himself to Apparate there in the first place, to face all of them, to bear witness to George's quiet dignity and Percy's raw, remorseful anguish, to see Ginny's red puffy eyes and hear Mrs. Weasley's sobs. When they invited him back to the Burrow he meant to decline, but a reproving look from Hermione, her fingers tightly laced with Ron's, made him change his mind.
It was a muted, somber gathering, without the cacophony and activity Harry was so used to seeing from the Weasleys. Even when Charlie started up with stories of Fred's antics, prompting others to do the same, the laughter remained strained. George left early, dismissing his mother's pleas that he spend the night by claiming that he wanted to get a good night's rest before re-opening the shop in the morning. Passing Harry in the kitchen on his way out, George paused, then said, "Thank you," and walked out before Harry could reply.
Others soon followed George's lead: Bill and Fleur left for Shell Cottage, Aunt Muriel returned to her home escorted by Percy, and Ron and Hermione disappeared for parts unknown, their hands still joined. Harry watched Ginny slip away and tried to follow her, but Mr. Weasley held him back. "Give her some time, Harry," he said. "She was very close to Fred."
Later, as he was headed upstairs, Mrs. Weasley having prevailed upon him to spend the night, Harry paused on the landing right outside her room. The door was ajar, so he looked inside. Ginny was seated by her window, her face in profile, the glint of tears visible on her cheeks in the pale moonlight. Harry wanted nothing more than to go to her, but something held him back. As much as he longed to comfort her, he knew his presence would be an intrusion.
The only time Ginny cried openly in front of Harry that week was when he told her about the memories Snape had shared with him before dying. He hadn't intended to, at least not yet. There was so much he wanted to talk to her about, so many things he wanted to say, and he still hadn't fully comprehended that he had the rest of his life in which to do it.
It happened one afternoon, during a rare reprieve between funerals. Harry was headed upstairs, and when he passed by Ginny's room he saw she was sitting in the same position he'd seen her in the other night. Recognizing this for the golden opportunity it was, he knocked tentatively on the door frame. "Can I come in?" he asked when she turned towards him.
"Sure, Harry," she said, rising and crossing to him. "What's up?"
He marveled at how his tongue always managed to tie itself into knots whenever he was around her. He was torn between wanting to tell her everything about the months he'd spent on the run, explaining why he'd had to let everyone believe he was dead when Hagrid was forced to carry him back to the castle, begging her forgiveness for Fred's death, and taking her into his arms and not letting go for a very, very long time.
Instead, he found himself taking hold of her hand and saying, "Snape loved my mum."
Her eyes grew wide and she said, "Oh." Then she gave him a strange look and said, "What?"
He looked down at their joined hands, then at Ginny's bed. "Can we... sit down? This might take a while." At her nod, he led her to the bed and sat down beside her, keeping her hand in his. As he recounted Snape's last moments and what he'd shown Harry, how Harry's mother seemed to have been Snape's first--and only true--friend, and how Snape had loved her until his dying breath, fat tears rolled down Ginny's cheeks, drenching Harry's shirt when he released her hand to pull her to him, and her shoulders heaved as sobs wracked her body. Harry continued to hold her until she grew still and her breathing became deep and measured, then he gently laid her on her bed, pulled the coverlet over her, kissed her tenderly and tiptoed out of her room, closing the door as he left.
She slept all afternoon and through the night. The next morning Harry came downstairs for breakfast and found her waiting for him, her robes clean and pressed, her hair pulled back in a tidy knot, shadows under her eyes. "Snape's funeral is today, right?" she asked as Harry poured a cup of coffee for her. He nodded. "I'd like to go with you, if that's all right."
"I'd like that very much."
She stood beside him throughout the brief service, and when the celebrant spoke the incantation to inter Snape's coffin, Ginny took Harry's hand and squeezed it tightly. As they were leaving, they passed a skinny, sour-looking woman lurking in the shade of a tree. Harry recognized Snape's mother and nodded at her, but she didn't acknowledge him. He turned to look behind him just before he and Ginny passed through the gate, and saw Eileen Prince standing at the foot of her son's grave, watching the dirt shovel itself back into the hole. He was tempted to go back to her and offer what words of comfort he could, but then he remembered how diligently Snape had guarded his privacy, and left her to mourn alone.
Of all the funerals Harry attended that week, the one he dreaded most was the joint service for Lupin and Tonks. The reality of their deaths still hadn't fully sunk in, which worried him, making him wonder what was wrong with him. Even when he learned the manner of their deaths, that Bellatrix Lestrange, having murdered her niece, had screeched to the sky, "That's what you get for consorting with Mudbloods, dear sister!" and that Lupin, rushing to his wife's aid, had been caught unawares by Dolohov, Harry had not felt the righteous anger he knew he ought. He hoped he wasn't subconsciously holding his grief back just to release a flood of emotion at the funeral. It would be dreadfully embarrassing, not to mention insincere.
All of the Weasleys were going, so they assembled at the Burrow and Apparated en masse, Ginny Side-Along Apparating with her parents. They arrived to find the church packed with people, many of them familiar faces: nearly all the Hogwarts faculty, surviving members of the Order of the Phoenix, and many witches and wizards wearing robes emblazoned with crests that identified them as Aurors. Kingsley was there too, as was Ollivander, and Harry nodded a greeting as he passed the row where Luna sat with her father, Neville Longbottom, and his grandmother. Other Hogwarts students past and present and their families occupied other places; Harry was pleased to see Dennis Creevey and his parents among them, as Colin's funeral had been held only the day before.
There was no room for them all to sit together, so Ron, Hermione, Bill, and Fleur went one direction, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Percy another, and Harry followed Charlie, Ginny, and George to several empty choir stalls beyond the tower crossing. Harry would rather have sat somewhere else--he could feel the weight of everyone's stares pressing down on him--but more and more people kept coming in, and soon were lined up against the walls and down the side aisles because all the seats had been taken. It was enormously gratifying to see that so many people had come out for Lupin and Tonks' final send-off, Harry thought with a measure of satisfaction as he took his seat.
He looked up at a loud noise from the back of the nave. The doors had been flung open and a group of people were assembled to process in. Seeing the woman in the lead, Harry instinctively and without thinking jumped to his feet and reached for his wand. Half a second later he was grateful that his movement had spurred everyone else to stand as well, because then none of them could see that he had once again mistaken Andromeda Tonks for her sister. He sheepishly put his wand away, shaking his head at Ginny's raised eyebrow.
Mrs. Tonks led the procession, carrying a small blue bundle in her arms as she marched to the spot that had been cordoned off for her in the front row. Behind her a witch and a wizard in Auror's robes directed two matching coffins to the tower crossing, where they were charmed to float on magical cushions of air in the transept aisle. These were followed by what Harry took to be an honor guard of sorts, consisting of Professors McGonagall and Sprout, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and three more Aurors. Next came a boy waving a wand that emitted a stream of blue smoke, two girls carrying candles, and a man Harry had seen many times this week, dressed in ornately-colored robes and matching hat.
They all processed solemnly to a dais in the center of the tower crossing and took their places, the honor guard and torchbearers dividing to arrange themselves around the dais, while the censor and celebrant turned to face the main assembly, their backs to those in the choir stalls. The celebrant then spoke a slightly more formal variant on an opening invocation Harry had already heard more times than he could count and he found himself tuning out the words even as his body responded automatically to the now-familiar cues.
He found himself watching Mrs. Tonks. He'd been momentarily surprised to realize that the blue bundle she held was a baby when he saw it squirm and then heard it let out an irritated squall. She responded immediately by rocking the baby in her arms and making shushing faces at it, while the people sitting nearest to them exchanged indulgent smiles.
Only when the baby began to fuss again and Mrs. Tonks raised it to her shoulder and the blanket it had been wrapped in fell back to reveal a thatch of turquoise hair did Harry realize who it was: Lupin and Tonks' newborn, now orphaned, son.
His godson.
The shame hit Harry with the force of a raging bull. How could he have forgotten so quickly? He, who knew better than anyone what it meant to lose both one's parents at such a tender age, he who had been so overjoyed to discover he had a godfather, who had been so devastated to lose that godfather forever, how could he stand and face a gathering of hundreds as their "hero" when he had so effortlessly failed to remember such an important responsibility?
The funeral service could not end quickly enough for Harry. In his impatience he hurried through the responses, mentally urging the celebrant to speed things up until he felt a heavy weight on his foot and looked down to see Ginny giving him a warning glare. Remembering with a renewed stab of remorse where he was, and what had brought him here, Harry restrained his eagerness and redirected his attention to the service. Lupin and Tonks had been his friends and people he admired and respected; even if he still remained numb to their sacrifice, they deserved his undivided attention for now.
As soon as the stones in the floor had re-formed over the now-interred coffins and the last "Amen" had risen to the rafters, however, Harry vaulted over the stall railing and ran straight to Mrs. Tonks, nearly knocking over Professor Sprout in his haste. "Sorry!" he called over his shoulder as he dodged past.
"Merlin's beard, where's the fire, Potter?" she shouted after him.
A crowd of women had gathered around Mrs. Tonks, preventing Harry from getting close to her. Several of them obviously wanted to express their condolences, but the majority seemed to have come to admire and cluck over the baby. Harry stood on tiptoe and craned his neck, trying to get a better look at him.
"What was that all about?" Harry heard Ginny say from behind him.
He turned to see her, Ron, and Hermione looking at him. "Yeah, Harry, what was that all about?" Ron asked.
Harry pointed in the general direction of Mrs. Tonks. "That's my godson." He felt a strange but powerful flood of emotion as he uttered those words, as though he'd just caught the Snitch in the Quidditch World Cup, only more intensely euphoric.
Hermione and Ginny both let out an "Oh" of delight and pressed forward, trying, like Harry, to get a better look, while Ron clapped him on the shoulder. "Good one, mate," he said.
"Thanks," he said, feeling another rush of emotion. "I mean, it's not like I've done anything, y'know?" he added hastily. "I've never even seen him, except in the picture Lupin showed me, just before--" The hubbub around Mrs. Tonks had died down so quickly it was as though someone'd cast a Silencing Charm.
"What's this about Remus?" Mrs. Tonks said coolly.
The resemblance to her sister--to all her Black relatives--was unmistakable in the way Andromeda Tonks held herself and scrutinized Harry. "M-Mrs. Tonks," he stammered. "I'm... I don't know if you remember me, I--"
"Young man, I would know who you were even if we hadn't already met," she said with a hint of disdain. "What were you saying about Remus Lupin?"
"I... er... ah..." Harry took a deep breath and straightened his posture. "Remus told me that he and To-he and your daughter wanted me to be their baby's godfather."
He didn't miss the way her hands seemed to curl a little more tightly around the baby's body, or how she held it a little more closely to her. "He did, did he?"
Harry was grateful to hear Bill say, "It's true, I was there when he brought us the good news." Around him, Fleur, Ron, and Hermione murmured words of agreement.
Before Harry could say the next thing that was on his mind, though, Mrs. Weasley burst through the crowd. "Oh, let me see that darling baby!" And before Mrs. Tonks could say or do anything to stop her, Mrs. Weasley had swept the baby into her own arms. Fleur, Hermione, and Ginny immediately clustered around her, forming a bulwark that effectively kept Mrs. Tonks from reclaiming the baby. "Aren't you just the cutest little angel?" Mrs. Weasley cooed. "I can't believe you've kept him away from us all this time, Andromeda. I don't think I've ever seen such a beautiful baby." If she heard the squawks of protest from her own children, she ignored them.
"Yes, well..." Mrs. Tonks' face looked strained and gray, and Harry could see how much she'd aged in the few months since he last saw her. "I haven't really been up to making social calls."
"Oh, tosh, we're family now," Mrs. Weasley said. When she glanced up she must have seen something in Mrs. Tonks' face, because she shifted the baby to balance him in one arm so she could lay her free hand on Mrs. Tonks' shoulder. "I'm sorry, Andromeda, I didn't mean to be crass. You've... what you've lost is unimaginable. Why don't you come back to the Burrow with us and have some tea?"
"I don't know, Molly, I--"
"I insist." She smiled down at the baby. "Besides, I'm not quite ready to give this little fellow up yet, so you're going to have to come if you want him back." Before Mrs. Tonks could stop her, Mrs. Weasley had bustled away, calling for her husband.
"Come wizzus, please," Fleur said kindly, nimbly filling the void Mrs. Weasley had left by tucking Mrs. Tonks' hand into the crook of her arm. "Eet iz no good to be alone at a time like zis. 'Ave tea wizzus, and we weel all tell you what a 'andsome grandson you 'ave."
"Yes, Mrs. Tonks, please come to the Burrow," Hermione said. "We'd all like to meet Teddy, Harry especially." Harry shot her a look of gratitude; he was rather annoyed with Mrs. Weasley for carrying off his godson before he'd had a chance to get a good look at him.
Mrs. Tonks gave Harry a look through slightly narrowed eyes, then sighed. "Oh, very well. It's not as though I'm going to let Teddy out of my sight, and I wouldn't put it past Molly to put a Sticking Charm on him."
Fleur laughed. "Zat's ze spirit. Beel, are you coming?"
"Right behind you, dear," Bill said, as he followed the two women. The church was now nearly empty; a few groups of people were gathered here and there, including the one around Harry: Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and now George and Percy. The other Weasleys, Harry reckoned, had already Disapparated back to the Burrow. Thinking they ought to do likewise--and anxious to see Teddy up close--he headed for the door, the others trailing after him.
"What's going on?" George asked.
"Lupin and Tonks wanted Harry to be their son's godfather," Ron said.
"Really?" Percy, George, and Ginny all said in unison, George adding a whistle. "That's a really big honor," Percy continued. "Not just anybody gets asked to be one."
"What exactly does a godfather do, anyway?" Harry asked. "I don't reckon spending twelve years in Azkaban is the way it’s normally done." A terrifying thought occurred to him. "I'm not supposed to be responsible for raising him, am I?" He looked at Ron in a desperate plea to be assured he was wrong. "Am I?"
Percy shook his head. "Some do--I suppose your parents might have thought Sirius would raise you if anything happened to them. But no one in their right mind would expect a seventeen-year-old to raise a baby all by himself." He held his hand out to Ginny. "C'mon, Ginny, you can Side-Along Apparate with me."
"Wait a minute!" Harry cried as Percy was starting to turn, causing him to lose his balance and stumble, nearly pulling Ginny down with him. "Why not?"
"Why not what?"
"Why wouldn't anyone expect me to be able to bring up a baby? I'm an adult now, aren't I? I can certainly father one--if I wanted to, that is." He resolutely avoided looking at Ginny.
"Why would you want to?" Ron asked.
"Do you want to?" Hermione wanted to know. "Raise Teddy, that is," she added hastily at a glower from Ron.
"I... I dunno."
"Do Muggles have godparents?" Ginny asked.
"Some do," Hermione said. "Traditionally they were responsible for raising their godchild if it was orphaned, but these days they're mostly just symbolic. They come to the christening, and they might give their godchild birthday and Christmas presents, but that's pretty much it. I haven't seen my godmother since I was a little girl." Ginny's mouth made an "O" of comprehension.
"Don't worry about it, Harry," Percy said. "I doubt Mrs. Tonks has any intention of handing that baby over to you anyway."
"There, there," George said, patting him on the back, "doesn't that make you feel much better?"
As Harry watched the others turn and Disapparate away, he couldn't help thinking that it didn't make him feel much better at all.
* * * * *
When Harry Apparated in the garden at the Burrow, he found Ginny waiting for him; everyone else seemed to have gone inside. She came a few steps towards him and said, "Hi," as though she hadn't seen him for a while and wasn't sure how he'd respond.
"Hi," he replied, in the same tone of voice. Before he could wonder about it, however, she had closed the distance between them and linked her arms around his waist, laying her cheek against his chest. "Hi," he said again, more tenderly this time, as he brought his arms around her and held her close. Apart from when he'd told her about Snape and his mum, this was the closest they'd been to each other in months, and Harry shut his eyes to block out any distractions so he could enjoy the simple pleasure of holding Ginny, her body warm to the touch, her hair tickling his nose, her hands clasped at the small of his back.
After a few blissful moments she stirred, and Harry reluctantly loosened his grip so she could pull back to look up at him. "Hi," she said again, smiling this time.
He smiled back. "Hi." He shifted his stance slightly. "What brought this on?"
She raised and lowered her shoulders. "I've wanted to for ages, but it never seemed like the right time." Harry nodded in understanding and agreement. Her fingers played idly with the pleats in his robe as she stared off in the distance, then her gaze refocused on him. "You seemed really bothered by what Percy said."
"Yeah," Harry said, releasing Ginny with a sigh. "Yeah, I am." He raked his fingers through his hair. "I didn't realize being a godfather was such a big deal. I mean, with Sirius, it was nothing like that, because he was in Azkaban, and then he was in hiding, and..." He sighed again. "I don't know what to think."
"Are you sorry Remus and Tonks wanted you to be their baby's godfather?"
"That's the thing: I don't know if I am or not. I mean, when Lupin first told me that Tonks’d had her baby, I was just so happy for him I didn't really think about it. Like I said, all I had to go on was my experience with Sirius. Then things got really hairy and we were all at Hogwarts fighting and Lupin and Tonks were dead, and then I was dead, and then I wasn't dead, but Voldemort was, and..." He felt his face go hot. "I completely forgot about their son until today at the funeral."
Ginny's hand slipped into his and squeezed. "The weird thing is, when I was looking at him during the service and thinking, 'That's my godson,' I had this weird feeling--" He thumped his chest, where Ginny's cheek had rested a few minutes before. "--here, like he was my child. All I could think about was how much I wanted to see him. And then Percy said it was this huge honor to be a godparent, and I remembered Bill had said the same thing too, and all of a sudden I realized: what if it was up to me to bring him up now that his parents are dead? That really scared me, but then no one seemed to think it would be a good idea, or even that anyone would want me to do it, and I can't decide if that's a good thing or a bad thing." He shook his head as though to clear it. "Mad, isn't it?"
"I don't think it's mad at all, Harry."
He gave Ginny a grateful smile. "Mrs. Tonks didn't seem too keen on the idea of me being the godfather."
"Harry, you have to understand: she's lost her husband, her sister, her daughter, and her son-in-law in the past few months. Teddy's all she has left. Of course she’s going to be a little possessive of him."
Harry thought back on all the funerals he'd gone to during the past week, remembering all the mourners huddled together as they watched their sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, husbands, fathers, wives, mothers, be laid to rest, and how they'd looked at him with mingled resentment and gratitude. He remembered Fred's funeral with painful clarity, with Percy's anguish and how George seemed to have become half a person, Ginny's red, puffy eyes betraying the grief she'd tried to hide and how her mother's heartbreaking sobs had echoed in his mind for hours afterward. "Yeah, you're right,” he said. “I know you're right." At the sound of a baby's cry, he looked up at the house. "I just wish she'd give me a chance. I wish they all would."
"A chance to do what?"
"A chance to prove I can be a good godfather. A chance to show that Lupin and Tonks picked the right person."
Ginny dropped his hand and took a step back, placing her hands on her hips in a posture that was eerily reminiscent of her mother. "Harry, ten days ago you defeated the greatest Dark wizard in history. Why are you waiting for people to give you a chance?"
"But what if I'm total rubbish? What if they do and it turns out all wrong? Percy's right. Who in their right mind would believe a seventeen-year-old has any business trying to help raise a child?"
"Who in their right mind believed a seventeen-year-old could defeat Voldemort?" She took her hands off her hips, reaching out to caress his arm. "It's okay to be scared, you know. Tonks was scared, too."
"Really?"
She nodded. "She was sure she'd drop Teddy on his head every time she picked him up." Harry let out a laugh.
"Lupin came to see me when Ron, Hermione and I were staying at Grimmauld Place. That was when I found out Tonks was pregnant." He remembered the way he'd lit into Lupin that day, the terrible things he'd said to him. "He was trying to run away, and I made him go back." He scuffed his toe into the ground. "I called him a coward."
Ginny smiled. "And still he asked you to be the godfather. You must have done something right." She took his hand again. "C'mon, Harry. Your godson is waiting to meet you."
Harry let her lead him up to the house, through the back door and into the sitting room, where everyone had gathered. He was just about to join Ron and Hermione when Mrs. Weasley bustled into the room, Teddy in her arms. "Harry! Perfect timing. I've just changed his nappy, so he's all ready to meet you."
"Perhaps --" Mrs. Tonks began, moving towards Mrs. Weasley, but Fleur deftly steered her away.
George and Charlie propelled Harry towards an empty armchair in the corner by a window and made him sit. Before he could say or do anything, Mrs. Weasley was bending over him, and he found himself instinctively cradling his arms to receive Teddy.
A great warmth surged through Harry, making his extremities tingle and his heart beat with such fierceness he was quite sure Ginny, talking to Hermione and Ron on the other side of the room, could hear it. Time seemed to pass him by in a blur as he stared down at that little blue-wrapped bundle, trying to make sense of the giddy wonder that fogged his vision and made his nose and throat feel all funny. He could sense Mrs. Tonks hovering on the edge of his periphery, but whenever she tried to edge closer someone would swoop in and redirect her. For all intents and purposes, Harry and Teddy might as well have been the only two people in the world.
"Hi," Harry finally said, his voice cracking. "My name's Harry. Harry Potter. I knew your mum and dad. They asked me to be your godfather. I'd like that very much, if it's okay with you."
The baby's bright eyes studied Harry intently, its clenched fist waving in the air. When it made contact with the edge of Harry's jaw the fist relaxed, and Harry tried to hold back a grin at the sensation of those tiny fingers uncurling against his skin. When Teddy blew a spit bubble, however, Harry let out a laugh of delight, which in turn caused patches of Teddy's now-dark brown hair at the temples and crown to turn pale blue. Harry recognized Tonks right away in the shape of Teddy's face, with his pointed chin and rounded cheeks, as well as in the tiny ears that lay close to his head. Lupin's imprint was more difficult to discern, but Harry thought he could see him in the shape of Teddy's eyes. Perhaps as he grew older Teddy would resemble his father more, Harry thought.
"I wish you could see the look on your face right now," Ginny said, suddenly there beside him as though he'd Summoned her by force of wishful thinking. She crouched down beside the chair and leaned over the arm to grab Teddy's bare foot, kicked free of the blanket, and plant a kiss just below his toes. He let out a squeal and wriggled more intensely.
"How do I look?" Harry asked.
"Like you can't imagine anyplace you'd rather be than where you are right now." She continued to play with Teddy's foot, laughing as he kicked and squealed. "How does it feel to hold him?"
He looked up at her and grinned. "Brilliant. Weird, but brilliant." He blew a raspberry at Teddy, who pursed his lips in reply. "I really hope I get to be a dad someday," he said quietly.
"I think you'd make a fantastic dad."
He hazarded a glance at Ginny. "What about you? Do you want to be a mum?"
Her mouth twitched as though she were trying to hold back a smile, but she kept her gaze focused on Teddy. "Someday, yeah. But I'm not in any hurry. I need to finish school first, and then..."
"And then?"
She looked up at Harry and shrugged. "Dunno. Reckon I'll figure that out when the time comes."
"Yeah," Harry said, looking back down at the baby in his arms. "Yeah, reckon so."
He was just about to ask Ginny if she wanted a turn at holding Teddy--his arms were beginning to prickle with fatigue--when he heard someone speak his name. Ginny must have heard it too, because she jerked her head up from where she'd been blowing on Teddy's foot and looked at Harry with wide eyes.
"He's just a boy!" Andromeda Tonks could be heard saying from somewhere behind Harry. "Don't even get me started on his aptitude for getting himself into dangerous situations."
"You can hardly blame him for that," came Arthur Weasley's steady voice. "In any event, You-Know-Who is dead now, and nearly all of his surviving followers have been rounded up. I daresay the worst of the danger has passed."
"My sister and that husband of hers are still free."
"Lucius is of no threat to anyone, and I know you don't really want Narcissa to be sent to Azkaban."
There was a moment of silence, then she resumed her argument. "That doesn't change the fact that Harry is much too young to be Teddy's godfather."
"He'll be eighteen in a few weeks," Mr. Weasley said. "He's an adult."
"Legally, maybe, but not mentally. Not emotionally." Her voice had begun to quaver. "I don't know what Dora was thinking. Marrying that... that man, and then having a baby in the middle of a war was foolish enough, but choosing Harry Potter to be the godfather?" Harry could clearly hear the tears in her voice now, but that was nothing compared to the vise he felt tightening inside his chest. "If she were still alive, I'd be convinced someone'd Confunded her."
"Andromeda, you're wrong about Harry. He is young, to be sure, but I can't think of anyone I'd rather entrust a grandchild of mine to. He's a good lad--the very best. Asking Harry to be Teddy's godfather may have been the wisest decision Remus and Dora ever made as a couple. He deserves a chance. I assure you, if you give him one, he will bend over backwards to prove they were right to choose him."
Mrs. Tonks blew her nose. "I don't know, Arthur. What if he takes Teddy away from me?"
"Ginny, would you give me a hand here?" Harry whispered, trying to scoot to the edge of the chair. Understanding immediately, she slung an arm around his waist and helped him to his feet. Harry carefully adjusted Teddy in his arms, bringing him up against his shoulder, then passed through the doorway leading to the hallway behind, where he knew he'd find Mrs. Tonks and Mr. Weasley. Both looked up at him, the latter with a measure of gladness and relief, the former with a puffy, tear-stained face.
"I don't want to take Teddy away from you," Harry said. Mrs. Tonks sucked in her breath. "It's like you said, I'm just a kid. I'd never even held a baby in my life before now, so what could I possibly know about raising one?" He came forward a few steps and lifted Teddy away from his shoulder, holding him out to his grandmother, who took him with a broad smile of relief.
"Besides," Harry continued, glancing at Ginny, "I didn't get to have my seventh year at Hogwarts, and I'd kind of like to go back and do that. And then..."
"And then?" Mr. Weasley asked.
"And then I'm thinking I might apply to be an Auror. It's what I've always wanted to do."
Mr. Weasley smiled. "So you're going to be a bit busy for at least the next four years."
"Right," Harry said, nodding as he kept his gaze on Mrs. Tonks. "Much too busy to be raising a baby." He took another step closer to tuck a loose corner of the blanket over Teddy's foot. "He'd be much better off with you."
"I suppose you still want to be the godfather," Mrs. Tonks said, not looking at him.
"Yes," Harry said with conviction. "I want that more than anything."
"Good lad," Mr. Weasley said under his breath. Harry felt his cheeks flush with appreciation.
Mrs. Tonks sighed. "Very well, then. It's what Dora and Remus wanted, so I suppose I ought to allow it out of respect for their memory."
Harry couldn't hold back his grin. Beside him, Ginny once again slipped her hand neatly inside his. "I won't let you down, I promise. I'll be the best godfather in the history of godfathers."
Chuckling, Mr. Weasley wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders and pulled him in for an embrace. "You've got all of us to help you make that happen, Harry."
* * * * *
Two weeks later, they were once again assembled in the church where Lupin and Tonks' funeral service had been held. The dais that had been in the transept crossing that sad day had been replaced with a white marble font. Five people were arrayed around it: the celebrant and his assistant, Mrs. Tonks, and Harry, holding a sleeping Teddy in his arms. All of the Weasleys, Hermione, Aunt Muriel, and about a dozen or so close friends filled the first few rows.
The bright June sun streamed through the stained glass window high up on the western wall, painting a kaleidoscope in shades of red, purple, and blue across the sanctuary. Harry tried not to stare too much at Ginny--standing before her entire family like this, he couldn't exactly do it without notice--but she looked so beautiful standing in a sunbeam of gold-streaked magenta he couldn't help himself. At a cough from Ron he blushed and made himself look away.
The celebrant waved his wand in a circular motion over the font, filling it with water, then with a flick of his wrist and a brief incantation made a circle of iridescence form on the surface of the water that quickly spread out and dissolved. He then asked, "Who brings this child to receive the sacrament of Holy Baptism?" to which Harry, having been coached in advance, responded in unison with Mrs. Tonks, "We do."
The celebrant nodded. "And who will care for this child, to nurture and provide for him, to guide him and help him take his place in the fellowship of our kind?"
When Harry opened his mouth to give the expected response, he was stopped short by all of the Weasleys and Hermione declaring as one: "We will." Ginny grinned and gave him a broad wink.
The celebrant, who had not been expecting their acclamation either, gave a little jump but recovered more quickly than Harry, murmuring, "Marvelous, marvelous. Well then," he continued, taking Teddy out of Harry's arms, "what name have you given this child?"
Harry managed to recover his senses in time to join Mrs. Tonks in saying, "Ted Remus Lupin."
Then, as they had been instructed to do, Harry and Mrs. Tonks reached into the font and scooped up a handful of the charmed water, and while the celebrant held Teddy over the basin, poured the water over his head and spoke the words of the Christening Spell they had been taught. The water droplets turned gold as they came into contact with Teddy's skin, beaded for a second, then melted beneath the surface. He opened his eyes in surprise and let out a howl of protest, but the celebrant skillfully evaporated any lingering dampness and with a murmured charm lulled him back to sleep.
"I present to you Ted Remus Lupin," he said to the gathering, waving his wand over them all so that it sent out ribbons of golden light. "May he walk in the light all the days of his life."
The solemnity of the moment and the long-withheld grief that had finally bubbled to the surface overcame Harry. He looked down at the floor, where Lupin and Tonks lay beneath the stones, and thought of the joy they must have felt when Teddy was first born; he thought of his own parents too, and how his mother's love for him had started the chain reaction of events that would eventually defeat Voldemort once and for all. His vision fogged by brimming tears, he looked up at Ginny and thought what a miraculous thing it would be if, someday, they could share that same kind of joy over a child of their own making. That would be the ultimate victory.
He felt, rather than saw, Ron and Hermione come to stand beside him, and finally the tears spilled over. "I'll be a good godfather to your son," he whispered to the stones, "I promise."
Title: Covenant and Consecration
Challenge: 19. Harry forgets about his role as godfather until someone reminds him. Now he has to decide what's best for his godson.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 6,488
Notes: Many thanks to katieay, shyshutterbug, lina_granger, and dreamcoat_mom for their able assistance in getting this ready for public consumption. One thing, since they all brought this up: the only time Teddy's full name is given it's "Ted Remus Lupin," so I went with that instead of "Theodore."
Harry made a point to attend the funeral of everyone who died fighting against Voldemort in the Battle of Hogwarts. It wasn't easy. Some days during that first week he went to as many as seven or eight funerals; more than once, he'd had to use a Time-Turner that Kingsley had managed to scrounge up just to make it to all of them.
The hardest part was dealing with the bereaved. Some families had suffered more than one loss that day. For so many of them, the dead were children or young adults just starting out in life, contemporaries of Harry's at Hogwarts. No matter how difficult it was, however, Harry went to them all. He saw it as a debt of honor: he felt he owed it to the dead, and to their families, to thank each one personally for their sacrifice.
He didn't think he'd make it through Fred's funeral. He could hardly bring himself to Apparate there in the first place, to face all of them, to bear witness to George's quiet dignity and Percy's raw, remorseful anguish, to see Ginny's red puffy eyes and hear Mrs. Weasley's sobs. When they invited him back to the Burrow he meant to decline, but a reproving look from Hermione, her fingers tightly laced with Ron's, made him change his mind.
It was a muted, somber gathering, without the cacophony and activity Harry was so used to seeing from the Weasleys. Even when Charlie started up with stories of Fred's antics, prompting others to do the same, the laughter remained strained. George left early, dismissing his mother's pleas that he spend the night by claiming that he wanted to get a good night's rest before re-opening the shop in the morning. Passing Harry in the kitchen on his way out, George paused, then said, "Thank you," and walked out before Harry could reply.
Others soon followed George's lead: Bill and Fleur left for Shell Cottage, Aunt Muriel returned to her home escorted by Percy, and Ron and Hermione disappeared for parts unknown, their hands still joined. Harry watched Ginny slip away and tried to follow her, but Mr. Weasley held him back. "Give her some time, Harry," he said. "She was very close to Fred."
Later, as he was headed upstairs, Mrs. Weasley having prevailed upon him to spend the night, Harry paused on the landing right outside her room. The door was ajar, so he looked inside. Ginny was seated by her window, her face in profile, the glint of tears visible on her cheeks in the pale moonlight. Harry wanted nothing more than to go to her, but something held him back. As much as he longed to comfort her, he knew his presence would be an intrusion.
The only time Ginny cried openly in front of Harry that week was when he told her about the memories Snape had shared with him before dying. He hadn't intended to, at least not yet. There was so much he wanted to talk to her about, so many things he wanted to say, and he still hadn't fully comprehended that he had the rest of his life in which to do it.
It happened one afternoon, during a rare reprieve between funerals. Harry was headed upstairs, and when he passed by Ginny's room he saw she was sitting in the same position he'd seen her in the other night. Recognizing this for the golden opportunity it was, he knocked tentatively on the door frame. "Can I come in?" he asked when she turned towards him.
"Sure, Harry," she said, rising and crossing to him. "What's up?"
He marveled at how his tongue always managed to tie itself into knots whenever he was around her. He was torn between wanting to tell her everything about the months he'd spent on the run, explaining why he'd had to let everyone believe he was dead when Hagrid was forced to carry him back to the castle, begging her forgiveness for Fred's death, and taking her into his arms and not letting go for a very, very long time.
Instead, he found himself taking hold of her hand and saying, "Snape loved my mum."
Her eyes grew wide and she said, "Oh." Then she gave him a strange look and said, "What?"
He looked down at their joined hands, then at Ginny's bed. "Can we... sit down? This might take a while." At her nod, he led her to the bed and sat down beside her, keeping her hand in his. As he recounted Snape's last moments and what he'd shown Harry, how Harry's mother seemed to have been Snape's first--and only true--friend, and how Snape had loved her until his dying breath, fat tears rolled down Ginny's cheeks, drenching Harry's shirt when he released her hand to pull her to him, and her shoulders heaved as sobs wracked her body. Harry continued to hold her until she grew still and her breathing became deep and measured, then he gently laid her on her bed, pulled the coverlet over her, kissed her tenderly and tiptoed out of her room, closing the door as he left.
She slept all afternoon and through the night. The next morning Harry came downstairs for breakfast and found her waiting for him, her robes clean and pressed, her hair pulled back in a tidy knot, shadows under her eyes. "Snape's funeral is today, right?" she asked as Harry poured a cup of coffee for her. He nodded. "I'd like to go with you, if that's all right."
"I'd like that very much."
She stood beside him throughout the brief service, and when the celebrant spoke the incantation to inter Snape's coffin, Ginny took Harry's hand and squeezed it tightly. As they were leaving, they passed a skinny, sour-looking woman lurking in the shade of a tree. Harry recognized Snape's mother and nodded at her, but she didn't acknowledge him. He turned to look behind him just before he and Ginny passed through the gate, and saw Eileen Prince standing at the foot of her son's grave, watching the dirt shovel itself back into the hole. He was tempted to go back to her and offer what words of comfort he could, but then he remembered how diligently Snape had guarded his privacy, and left her to mourn alone.
Of all the funerals Harry attended that week, the one he dreaded most was the joint service for Lupin and Tonks. The reality of their deaths still hadn't fully sunk in, which worried him, making him wonder what was wrong with him. Even when he learned the manner of their deaths, that Bellatrix Lestrange, having murdered her niece, had screeched to the sky, "That's what you get for consorting with Mudbloods, dear sister!" and that Lupin, rushing to his wife's aid, had been caught unawares by Dolohov, Harry had not felt the righteous anger he knew he ought. He hoped he wasn't subconsciously holding his grief back just to release a flood of emotion at the funeral. It would be dreadfully embarrassing, not to mention insincere.
All of the Weasleys were going, so they assembled at the Burrow and Apparated en masse, Ginny Side-Along Apparating with her parents. They arrived to find the church packed with people, many of them familiar faces: nearly all the Hogwarts faculty, surviving members of the Order of the Phoenix, and many witches and wizards wearing robes emblazoned with crests that identified them as Aurors. Kingsley was there too, as was Ollivander, and Harry nodded a greeting as he passed the row where Luna sat with her father, Neville Longbottom, and his grandmother. Other Hogwarts students past and present and their families occupied other places; Harry was pleased to see Dennis Creevey and his parents among them, as Colin's funeral had been held only the day before.
There was no room for them all to sit together, so Ron, Hermione, Bill, and Fleur went one direction, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Percy another, and Harry followed Charlie, Ginny, and George to several empty choir stalls beyond the tower crossing. Harry would rather have sat somewhere else--he could feel the weight of everyone's stares pressing down on him--but more and more people kept coming in, and soon were lined up against the walls and down the side aisles because all the seats had been taken. It was enormously gratifying to see that so many people had come out for Lupin and Tonks' final send-off, Harry thought with a measure of satisfaction as he took his seat.
He looked up at a loud noise from the back of the nave. The doors had been flung open and a group of people were assembled to process in. Seeing the woman in the lead, Harry instinctively and without thinking jumped to his feet and reached for his wand. Half a second later he was grateful that his movement had spurred everyone else to stand as well, because then none of them could see that he had once again mistaken Andromeda Tonks for her sister. He sheepishly put his wand away, shaking his head at Ginny's raised eyebrow.
Mrs. Tonks led the procession, carrying a small blue bundle in her arms as she marched to the spot that had been cordoned off for her in the front row. Behind her a witch and a wizard in Auror's robes directed two matching coffins to the tower crossing, where they were charmed to float on magical cushions of air in the transept aisle. These were followed by what Harry took to be an honor guard of sorts, consisting of Professors McGonagall and Sprout, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and three more Aurors. Next came a boy waving a wand that emitted a stream of blue smoke, two girls carrying candles, and a man Harry had seen many times this week, dressed in ornately-colored robes and matching hat.
They all processed solemnly to a dais in the center of the tower crossing and took their places, the honor guard and torchbearers dividing to arrange themselves around the dais, while the censor and celebrant turned to face the main assembly, their backs to those in the choir stalls. The celebrant then spoke a slightly more formal variant on an opening invocation Harry had already heard more times than he could count and he found himself tuning out the words even as his body responded automatically to the now-familiar cues.
He found himself watching Mrs. Tonks. He'd been momentarily surprised to realize that the blue bundle she held was a baby when he saw it squirm and then heard it let out an irritated squall. She responded immediately by rocking the baby in her arms and making shushing faces at it, while the people sitting nearest to them exchanged indulgent smiles.
Only when the baby began to fuss again and Mrs. Tonks raised it to her shoulder and the blanket it had been wrapped in fell back to reveal a thatch of turquoise hair did Harry realize who it was: Lupin and Tonks' newborn, now orphaned, son.
His godson.
The shame hit Harry with the force of a raging bull. How could he have forgotten so quickly? He, who knew better than anyone what it meant to lose both one's parents at such a tender age, he who had been so overjoyed to discover he had a godfather, who had been so devastated to lose that godfather forever, how could he stand and face a gathering of hundreds as their "hero" when he had so effortlessly failed to remember such an important responsibility?
The funeral service could not end quickly enough for Harry. In his impatience he hurried through the responses, mentally urging the celebrant to speed things up until he felt a heavy weight on his foot and looked down to see Ginny giving him a warning glare. Remembering with a renewed stab of remorse where he was, and what had brought him here, Harry restrained his eagerness and redirected his attention to the service. Lupin and Tonks had been his friends and people he admired and respected; even if he still remained numb to their sacrifice, they deserved his undivided attention for now.
As soon as the stones in the floor had re-formed over the now-interred coffins and the last "Amen" had risen to the rafters, however, Harry vaulted over the stall railing and ran straight to Mrs. Tonks, nearly knocking over Professor Sprout in his haste. "Sorry!" he called over his shoulder as he dodged past.
"Merlin's beard, where's the fire, Potter?" she shouted after him.
A crowd of women had gathered around Mrs. Tonks, preventing Harry from getting close to her. Several of them obviously wanted to express their condolences, but the majority seemed to have come to admire and cluck over the baby. Harry stood on tiptoe and craned his neck, trying to get a better look at him.
"What was that all about?" Harry heard Ginny say from behind him.
He turned to see her, Ron, and Hermione looking at him. "Yeah, Harry, what was that all about?" Ron asked.
Harry pointed in the general direction of Mrs. Tonks. "That's my godson." He felt a strange but powerful flood of emotion as he uttered those words, as though he'd just caught the Snitch in the Quidditch World Cup, only more intensely euphoric.
Hermione and Ginny both let out an "Oh" of delight and pressed forward, trying, like Harry, to get a better look, while Ron clapped him on the shoulder. "Good one, mate," he said.
"Thanks," he said, feeling another rush of emotion. "I mean, it's not like I've done anything, y'know?" he added hastily. "I've never even seen him, except in the picture Lupin showed me, just before--" The hubbub around Mrs. Tonks had died down so quickly it was as though someone'd cast a Silencing Charm.
"What's this about Remus?" Mrs. Tonks said coolly.
The resemblance to her sister--to all her Black relatives--was unmistakable in the way Andromeda Tonks held herself and scrutinized Harry. "M-Mrs. Tonks," he stammered. "I'm... I don't know if you remember me, I--"
"Young man, I would know who you were even if we hadn't already met," she said with a hint of disdain. "What were you saying about Remus Lupin?"
"I... er... ah..." Harry took a deep breath and straightened his posture. "Remus told me that he and To-he and your daughter wanted me to be their baby's godfather."
He didn't miss the way her hands seemed to curl a little more tightly around the baby's body, or how she held it a little more closely to her. "He did, did he?"
Harry was grateful to hear Bill say, "It's true, I was there when he brought us the good news." Around him, Fleur, Ron, and Hermione murmured words of agreement.
Before Harry could say the next thing that was on his mind, though, Mrs. Weasley burst through the crowd. "Oh, let me see that darling baby!" And before Mrs. Tonks could say or do anything to stop her, Mrs. Weasley had swept the baby into her own arms. Fleur, Hermione, and Ginny immediately clustered around her, forming a bulwark that effectively kept Mrs. Tonks from reclaiming the baby. "Aren't you just the cutest little angel?" Mrs. Weasley cooed. "I can't believe you've kept him away from us all this time, Andromeda. I don't think I've ever seen such a beautiful baby." If she heard the squawks of protest from her own children, she ignored them.
"Yes, well..." Mrs. Tonks' face looked strained and gray, and Harry could see how much she'd aged in the few months since he last saw her. "I haven't really been up to making social calls."
"Oh, tosh, we're family now," Mrs. Weasley said. When she glanced up she must have seen something in Mrs. Tonks' face, because she shifted the baby to balance him in one arm so she could lay her free hand on Mrs. Tonks' shoulder. "I'm sorry, Andromeda, I didn't mean to be crass. You've... what you've lost is unimaginable. Why don't you come back to the Burrow with us and have some tea?"
"I don't know, Molly, I--"
"I insist." She smiled down at the baby. "Besides, I'm not quite ready to give this little fellow up yet, so you're going to have to come if you want him back." Before Mrs. Tonks could stop her, Mrs. Weasley had bustled away, calling for her husband.
"Come wizzus, please," Fleur said kindly, nimbly filling the void Mrs. Weasley had left by tucking Mrs. Tonks' hand into the crook of her arm. "Eet iz no good to be alone at a time like zis. 'Ave tea wizzus, and we weel all tell you what a 'andsome grandson you 'ave."
"Yes, Mrs. Tonks, please come to the Burrow," Hermione said. "We'd all like to meet Teddy, Harry especially." Harry shot her a look of gratitude; he was rather annoyed with Mrs. Weasley for carrying off his godson before he'd had a chance to get a good look at him.
Mrs. Tonks gave Harry a look through slightly narrowed eyes, then sighed. "Oh, very well. It's not as though I'm going to let Teddy out of my sight, and I wouldn't put it past Molly to put a Sticking Charm on him."
Fleur laughed. "Zat's ze spirit. Beel, are you coming?"
"Right behind you, dear," Bill said, as he followed the two women. The church was now nearly empty; a few groups of people were gathered here and there, including the one around Harry: Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and now George and Percy. The other Weasleys, Harry reckoned, had already Disapparated back to the Burrow. Thinking they ought to do likewise--and anxious to see Teddy up close--he headed for the door, the others trailing after him.
"What's going on?" George asked.
"Lupin and Tonks wanted Harry to be their son's godfather," Ron said.
"Really?" Percy, George, and Ginny all said in unison, George adding a whistle. "That's a really big honor," Percy continued. "Not just anybody gets asked to be one."
"What exactly does a godfather do, anyway?" Harry asked. "I don't reckon spending twelve years in Azkaban is the way it’s normally done." A terrifying thought occurred to him. "I'm not supposed to be responsible for raising him, am I?" He looked at Ron in a desperate plea to be assured he was wrong. "Am I?"
Percy shook his head. "Some do--I suppose your parents might have thought Sirius would raise you if anything happened to them. But no one in their right mind would expect a seventeen-year-old to raise a baby all by himself." He held his hand out to Ginny. "C'mon, Ginny, you can Side-Along Apparate with me."
"Wait a minute!" Harry cried as Percy was starting to turn, causing him to lose his balance and stumble, nearly pulling Ginny down with him. "Why not?"
"Why not what?"
"Why wouldn't anyone expect me to be able to bring up a baby? I'm an adult now, aren't I? I can certainly father one--if I wanted to, that is." He resolutely avoided looking at Ginny.
"Why would you want to?" Ron asked.
"Do you want to?" Hermione wanted to know. "Raise Teddy, that is," she added hastily at a glower from Ron.
"I... I dunno."
"Do Muggles have godparents?" Ginny asked.
"Some do," Hermione said. "Traditionally they were responsible for raising their godchild if it was orphaned, but these days they're mostly just symbolic. They come to the christening, and they might give their godchild birthday and Christmas presents, but that's pretty much it. I haven't seen my godmother since I was a little girl." Ginny's mouth made an "O" of comprehension.
"Don't worry about it, Harry," Percy said. "I doubt Mrs. Tonks has any intention of handing that baby over to you anyway."
"There, there," George said, patting him on the back, "doesn't that make you feel much better?"
As Harry watched the others turn and Disapparate away, he couldn't help thinking that it didn't make him feel much better at all.
* * * * *
When Harry Apparated in the garden at the Burrow, he found Ginny waiting for him; everyone else seemed to have gone inside. She came a few steps towards him and said, "Hi," as though she hadn't seen him for a while and wasn't sure how he'd respond.
"Hi," he replied, in the same tone of voice. Before he could wonder about it, however, she had closed the distance between them and linked her arms around his waist, laying her cheek against his chest. "Hi," he said again, more tenderly this time, as he brought his arms around her and held her close. Apart from when he'd told her about Snape and his mum, this was the closest they'd been to each other in months, and Harry shut his eyes to block out any distractions so he could enjoy the simple pleasure of holding Ginny, her body warm to the touch, her hair tickling his nose, her hands clasped at the small of his back.
After a few blissful moments she stirred, and Harry reluctantly loosened his grip so she could pull back to look up at him. "Hi," she said again, smiling this time.
He smiled back. "Hi." He shifted his stance slightly. "What brought this on?"
She raised and lowered her shoulders. "I've wanted to for ages, but it never seemed like the right time." Harry nodded in understanding and agreement. Her fingers played idly with the pleats in his robe as she stared off in the distance, then her gaze refocused on him. "You seemed really bothered by what Percy said."
"Yeah," Harry said, releasing Ginny with a sigh. "Yeah, I am." He raked his fingers through his hair. "I didn't realize being a godfather was such a big deal. I mean, with Sirius, it was nothing like that, because he was in Azkaban, and then he was in hiding, and..." He sighed again. "I don't know what to think."
"Are you sorry Remus and Tonks wanted you to be their baby's godfather?"
"That's the thing: I don't know if I am or not. I mean, when Lupin first told me that Tonks’d had her baby, I was just so happy for him I didn't really think about it. Like I said, all I had to go on was my experience with Sirius. Then things got really hairy and we were all at Hogwarts fighting and Lupin and Tonks were dead, and then I was dead, and then I wasn't dead, but Voldemort was, and..." He felt his face go hot. "I completely forgot about their son until today at the funeral."
Ginny's hand slipped into his and squeezed. "The weird thing is, when I was looking at him during the service and thinking, 'That's my godson,' I had this weird feeling--" He thumped his chest, where Ginny's cheek had rested a few minutes before. "--here, like he was my child. All I could think about was how much I wanted to see him. And then Percy said it was this huge honor to be a godparent, and I remembered Bill had said the same thing too, and all of a sudden I realized: what if it was up to me to bring him up now that his parents are dead? That really scared me, but then no one seemed to think it would be a good idea, or even that anyone would want me to do it, and I can't decide if that's a good thing or a bad thing." He shook his head as though to clear it. "Mad, isn't it?"
"I don't think it's mad at all, Harry."
He gave Ginny a grateful smile. "Mrs. Tonks didn't seem too keen on the idea of me being the godfather."
"Harry, you have to understand: she's lost her husband, her sister, her daughter, and her son-in-law in the past few months. Teddy's all she has left. Of course she’s going to be a little possessive of him."
Harry thought back on all the funerals he'd gone to during the past week, remembering all the mourners huddled together as they watched their sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, husbands, fathers, wives, mothers, be laid to rest, and how they'd looked at him with mingled resentment and gratitude. He remembered Fred's funeral with painful clarity, with Percy's anguish and how George seemed to have become half a person, Ginny's red, puffy eyes betraying the grief she'd tried to hide and how her mother's heartbreaking sobs had echoed in his mind for hours afterward. "Yeah, you're right,” he said. “I know you're right." At the sound of a baby's cry, he looked up at the house. "I just wish she'd give me a chance. I wish they all would."
"A chance to do what?"
"A chance to prove I can be a good godfather. A chance to show that Lupin and Tonks picked the right person."
Ginny dropped his hand and took a step back, placing her hands on her hips in a posture that was eerily reminiscent of her mother. "Harry, ten days ago you defeated the greatest Dark wizard in history. Why are you waiting for people to give you a chance?"
"But what if I'm total rubbish? What if they do and it turns out all wrong? Percy's right. Who in their right mind would believe a seventeen-year-old has any business trying to help raise a child?"
"Who in their right mind believed a seventeen-year-old could defeat Voldemort?" She took her hands off her hips, reaching out to caress his arm. "It's okay to be scared, you know. Tonks was scared, too."
"Really?"
She nodded. "She was sure she'd drop Teddy on his head every time she picked him up." Harry let out a laugh.
"Lupin came to see me when Ron, Hermione and I were staying at Grimmauld Place. That was when I found out Tonks was pregnant." He remembered the way he'd lit into Lupin that day, the terrible things he'd said to him. "He was trying to run away, and I made him go back." He scuffed his toe into the ground. "I called him a coward."
Ginny smiled. "And still he asked you to be the godfather. You must have done something right." She took his hand again. "C'mon, Harry. Your godson is waiting to meet you."
Harry let her lead him up to the house, through the back door and into the sitting room, where everyone had gathered. He was just about to join Ron and Hermione when Mrs. Weasley bustled into the room, Teddy in her arms. "Harry! Perfect timing. I've just changed his nappy, so he's all ready to meet you."
"Perhaps --" Mrs. Tonks began, moving towards Mrs. Weasley, but Fleur deftly steered her away.
George and Charlie propelled Harry towards an empty armchair in the corner by a window and made him sit. Before he could say or do anything, Mrs. Weasley was bending over him, and he found himself instinctively cradling his arms to receive Teddy.
A great warmth surged through Harry, making his extremities tingle and his heart beat with such fierceness he was quite sure Ginny, talking to Hermione and Ron on the other side of the room, could hear it. Time seemed to pass him by in a blur as he stared down at that little blue-wrapped bundle, trying to make sense of the giddy wonder that fogged his vision and made his nose and throat feel all funny. He could sense Mrs. Tonks hovering on the edge of his periphery, but whenever she tried to edge closer someone would swoop in and redirect her. For all intents and purposes, Harry and Teddy might as well have been the only two people in the world.
"Hi," Harry finally said, his voice cracking. "My name's Harry. Harry Potter. I knew your mum and dad. They asked me to be your godfather. I'd like that very much, if it's okay with you."
The baby's bright eyes studied Harry intently, its clenched fist waving in the air. When it made contact with the edge of Harry's jaw the fist relaxed, and Harry tried to hold back a grin at the sensation of those tiny fingers uncurling against his skin. When Teddy blew a spit bubble, however, Harry let out a laugh of delight, which in turn caused patches of Teddy's now-dark brown hair at the temples and crown to turn pale blue. Harry recognized Tonks right away in the shape of Teddy's face, with his pointed chin and rounded cheeks, as well as in the tiny ears that lay close to his head. Lupin's imprint was more difficult to discern, but Harry thought he could see him in the shape of Teddy's eyes. Perhaps as he grew older Teddy would resemble his father more, Harry thought.
"I wish you could see the look on your face right now," Ginny said, suddenly there beside him as though he'd Summoned her by force of wishful thinking. She crouched down beside the chair and leaned over the arm to grab Teddy's bare foot, kicked free of the blanket, and plant a kiss just below his toes. He let out a squeal and wriggled more intensely.
"How do I look?" Harry asked.
"Like you can't imagine anyplace you'd rather be than where you are right now." She continued to play with Teddy's foot, laughing as he kicked and squealed. "How does it feel to hold him?"
He looked up at her and grinned. "Brilliant. Weird, but brilliant." He blew a raspberry at Teddy, who pursed his lips in reply. "I really hope I get to be a dad someday," he said quietly.
"I think you'd make a fantastic dad."
He hazarded a glance at Ginny. "What about you? Do you want to be a mum?"
Her mouth twitched as though she were trying to hold back a smile, but she kept her gaze focused on Teddy. "Someday, yeah. But I'm not in any hurry. I need to finish school first, and then..."
"And then?"
She looked up at Harry and shrugged. "Dunno. Reckon I'll figure that out when the time comes."
"Yeah," Harry said, looking back down at the baby in his arms. "Yeah, reckon so."
He was just about to ask Ginny if she wanted a turn at holding Teddy--his arms were beginning to prickle with fatigue--when he heard someone speak his name. Ginny must have heard it too, because she jerked her head up from where she'd been blowing on Teddy's foot and looked at Harry with wide eyes.
"He's just a boy!" Andromeda Tonks could be heard saying from somewhere behind Harry. "Don't even get me started on his aptitude for getting himself into dangerous situations."
"You can hardly blame him for that," came Arthur Weasley's steady voice. "In any event, You-Know-Who is dead now, and nearly all of his surviving followers have been rounded up. I daresay the worst of the danger has passed."
"My sister and that husband of hers are still free."
"Lucius is of no threat to anyone, and I know you don't really want Narcissa to be sent to Azkaban."
There was a moment of silence, then she resumed her argument. "That doesn't change the fact that Harry is much too young to be Teddy's godfather."
"He'll be eighteen in a few weeks," Mr. Weasley said. "He's an adult."
"Legally, maybe, but not mentally. Not emotionally." Her voice had begun to quaver. "I don't know what Dora was thinking. Marrying that... that man, and then having a baby in the middle of a war was foolish enough, but choosing Harry Potter to be the godfather?" Harry could clearly hear the tears in her voice now, but that was nothing compared to the vise he felt tightening inside his chest. "If she were still alive, I'd be convinced someone'd Confunded her."
"Andromeda, you're wrong about Harry. He is young, to be sure, but I can't think of anyone I'd rather entrust a grandchild of mine to. He's a good lad--the very best. Asking Harry to be Teddy's godfather may have been the wisest decision Remus and Dora ever made as a couple. He deserves a chance. I assure you, if you give him one, he will bend over backwards to prove they were right to choose him."
Mrs. Tonks blew her nose. "I don't know, Arthur. What if he takes Teddy away from me?"
"Ginny, would you give me a hand here?" Harry whispered, trying to scoot to the edge of the chair. Understanding immediately, she slung an arm around his waist and helped him to his feet. Harry carefully adjusted Teddy in his arms, bringing him up against his shoulder, then passed through the doorway leading to the hallway behind, where he knew he'd find Mrs. Tonks and Mr. Weasley. Both looked up at him, the latter with a measure of gladness and relief, the former with a puffy, tear-stained face.
"I don't want to take Teddy away from you," Harry said. Mrs. Tonks sucked in her breath. "It's like you said, I'm just a kid. I'd never even held a baby in my life before now, so what could I possibly know about raising one?" He came forward a few steps and lifted Teddy away from his shoulder, holding him out to his grandmother, who took him with a broad smile of relief.
"Besides," Harry continued, glancing at Ginny, "I didn't get to have my seventh year at Hogwarts, and I'd kind of like to go back and do that. And then..."
"And then?" Mr. Weasley asked.
"And then I'm thinking I might apply to be an Auror. It's what I've always wanted to do."
Mr. Weasley smiled. "So you're going to be a bit busy for at least the next four years."
"Right," Harry said, nodding as he kept his gaze on Mrs. Tonks. "Much too busy to be raising a baby." He took another step closer to tuck a loose corner of the blanket over Teddy's foot. "He'd be much better off with you."
"I suppose you still want to be the godfather," Mrs. Tonks said, not looking at him.
"Yes," Harry said with conviction. "I want that more than anything."
"Good lad," Mr. Weasley said under his breath. Harry felt his cheeks flush with appreciation.
Mrs. Tonks sighed. "Very well, then. It's what Dora and Remus wanted, so I suppose I ought to allow it out of respect for their memory."
Harry couldn't hold back his grin. Beside him, Ginny once again slipped her hand neatly inside his. "I won't let you down, I promise. I'll be the best godfather in the history of godfathers."
Chuckling, Mr. Weasley wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders and pulled him in for an embrace. "You've got all of us to help you make that happen, Harry."
* * * * *
Two weeks later, they were once again assembled in the church where Lupin and Tonks' funeral service had been held. The dais that had been in the transept crossing that sad day had been replaced with a white marble font. Five people were arrayed around it: the celebrant and his assistant, Mrs. Tonks, and Harry, holding a sleeping Teddy in his arms. All of the Weasleys, Hermione, Aunt Muriel, and about a dozen or so close friends filled the first few rows.
The bright June sun streamed through the stained glass window high up on the western wall, painting a kaleidoscope in shades of red, purple, and blue across the sanctuary. Harry tried not to stare too much at Ginny--standing before her entire family like this, he couldn't exactly do it without notice--but she looked so beautiful standing in a sunbeam of gold-streaked magenta he couldn't help himself. At a cough from Ron he blushed and made himself look away.
The celebrant waved his wand in a circular motion over the font, filling it with water, then with a flick of his wrist and a brief incantation made a circle of iridescence form on the surface of the water that quickly spread out and dissolved. He then asked, "Who brings this child to receive the sacrament of Holy Baptism?" to which Harry, having been coached in advance, responded in unison with Mrs. Tonks, "We do."
The celebrant nodded. "And who will care for this child, to nurture and provide for him, to guide him and help him take his place in the fellowship of our kind?"
When Harry opened his mouth to give the expected response, he was stopped short by all of the Weasleys and Hermione declaring as one: "We will." Ginny grinned and gave him a broad wink.
The celebrant, who had not been expecting their acclamation either, gave a little jump but recovered more quickly than Harry, murmuring, "Marvelous, marvelous. Well then," he continued, taking Teddy out of Harry's arms, "what name have you given this child?"
Harry managed to recover his senses in time to join Mrs. Tonks in saying, "Ted Remus Lupin."
Then, as they had been instructed to do, Harry and Mrs. Tonks reached into the font and scooped up a handful of the charmed water, and while the celebrant held Teddy over the basin, poured the water over his head and spoke the words of the Christening Spell they had been taught. The water droplets turned gold as they came into contact with Teddy's skin, beaded for a second, then melted beneath the surface. He opened his eyes in surprise and let out a howl of protest, but the celebrant skillfully evaporated any lingering dampness and with a murmured charm lulled him back to sleep.
"I present to you Ted Remus Lupin," he said to the gathering, waving his wand over them all so that it sent out ribbons of golden light. "May he walk in the light all the days of his life."
The solemnity of the moment and the long-withheld grief that had finally bubbled to the surface overcame Harry. He looked down at the floor, where Lupin and Tonks lay beneath the stones, and thought of the joy they must have felt when Teddy was first born; he thought of his own parents too, and how his mother's love for him had started the chain reaction of events that would eventually defeat Voldemort once and for all. His vision fogged by brimming tears, he looked up at Ginny and thought what a miraculous thing it would be if, someday, they could share that same kind of joy over a child of their own making. That would be the ultimate victory.
He felt, rather than saw, Ron and Hermione come to stand beside him, and finally the tears spilled over. "I'll be a good godfather to your son," he whispered to the stones, "I promise."