The morning dawned clear and crisp, sunlight spilling through the narrow windows of Grimmauld Place. Harry had suggested they spend the day out, not in mourning or duty, but simply living—something he hadn't allowed himself often enough. Andromeda agreed. Teddy, of course, was delighted at the promise of adventure.
"Where we go?" Teddy asked for the third time, bouncing on his toes as Harry adjusted the small glamour charm over his features. His hair shimmered from pitch black to a tousled brown, and his eyes shifted to a warm hazel. Harry himself had disguised his own face into something nondescript—slightly older, with sandy hair and forgettable features. Andromeda's glamour softened her sharp features, making her look like a kindly middle-aged woman from nowhere in particular.
"Somewhere special," Harry replied, ruffling Teddy's hair. "But we'll need to keep our disguises up, alright? No calling Daddy's name too loudly, or someone might get suspicious."
Teddy grinned mischievously. "Then I call only Daddy!"
Harry chuckled. "That'll do."
They Flooed into the Leaky Cauldron, and at once Harry realized how much had changed. The pub still had its familiar warmth, but the walls had been freshly paneled and the crooked, smoke-stained beams replaced. Light streamed in from wide enchanted windows that hadn't existed before, showing flickers of the busy London street outside.
"It looks… respectable," Andromeda murmured.
"Almost too respectable," Harry said, scanning the polished tables, the cleaned bar, the cheerful new sign above the counter. Tom the barman was gone, retired perhaps, and a younger witch with red hair tied in a bun now served drinks with brisk efficiency.
Teddy tugged on Harry's sleeve. "We go in?"
Harry grinned. "Of course."
He tapped the familiar bricks in the archway, and the wall rumbled aside. The sight of Diagon Alley beyond caught him off guard.
The alley was alive with sound. Hammering, laughter, haggling voices, and the chatter of children mixed in the air. Though many shops bore new faces and newer facades, Diagon Alley retained its magic. Bright banners stretched overhead, colorful stalls dotted the street, and wizards bustled about with shopping bags and owl cages.
"This place survived many wars," Andromeda whispered, her eyes roaming over the rebuilt storefronts. "Like we all did."
Harry nodded. He remembered the shattered windows, the blackened ruins after raids. Now those scars were hidden under fresh paint and stone. Flourish and Blotts had expanded into two levels. Madam Malkin's shop now boasted mannequins that twirled to display their enchanted robes. Even Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes still stood proudly, its facade freshly repaired but still chaotic, still bold.
Teddy's jaw dropped. "It's HUGE! I get toy?"
Harry laughed. "One toy. Maybe two. But no more."
They slipped through the crowd, careful to keep their glamours steady. Familiar faces passed them—Neville's grandmother arguing with a shopkeeper over potion ingredients, Hannah Abbott chatting outside a café, even George Weasley leaning on the doorway of his shop, a faint tiredness behind his smile. Harry's heart twisted at the sight, but he kept walking.
"Don't linger," Andromeda murmured, sensing his hesitation. "We're ghosts here today. Nothing more."
They stopped at a toy shop filled with glittering broomsticks, stuffed dragons that roared softly, and enchanted chess sets that played themselves when no one was looking. Teddy darted between shelves, his laughter ringing out.
"Daddy—look! A knight !" He waved a miniature soldier whose sword gleamed with sparks.
Harry crouched beside him, chuckling. "That one's too sharp. But what about the Snitch that tells jokes?"
Teddy giggled as the golden ball zipped around, shrieking in squeaky voices about trousers falling down. They ended up buying a small enchanted dragon that flapped around Teddy's head and a set of soft blocks that built themselves into castles.
Andromeda picked up a cloak woven with protective charms. "This will do well for me," she said. Then, almost shyly, she added, "And perhaps something for your… goddesses, as you call them."
Harry smiled faintly. "They'll appreciate it."
By midday, they ducked into a newly opened tavern, warm and bustling with the smell of roasted meats and fresh bread. Teddy devoured shepherd's pie, smearing gravy across his cheeks, while Harry and Andromeda ate more slowly, watching the flow of the crowd through the wide glass windows.
"Busy as ever," Harry said.
Andromeda's gaze softened. "That's a good thing."
Teddy looked up between mouthfuls. "Are we going to see Hogwarts too?"
Harry's lips quirked. "Yes. We'll go tomorrow."
They Apparated near Hogsmeade in the evening. The village glowed with warm lights, its cobblestone streets bustling with couples and students on outings. Honeydukes' windows shone with bright displays of chocolates, while the Three Broomsticks overflowed with laughter and music.
But Harry led them past the shops, up the slope toward the hills that overlooked the valley. The air grew crisp, carrying the scent of pine and snow. At the crest of the hill, they stopped.
There it was. Hogwarts.
The castle stood majestic against the twilight, its towers lit with flickering lanterns, the Black Lake shimmering beneath. The sight tugged at Harry's heart, a bittersweet ache of belonging and loss.
Teddy gasped, clutching Harry's hand. "It's like fairytale!"
Harry swallowed, his throat tight. "Yeah," he murmured. "It is."
Andromeda wrapped her cloak tighter, her gaze softening. "It's more than a fairytale. It's a sanctuary. Always has been."
They stood there in silence for a long while, watching the castle lights twinkle in the distance. For Harry, it was like seeing a part of himself that he had left behind—still shining, still alive.
The morning began with soft golden light slipping through the curtains of Grimmauld Place, filling the old townhouse with an unusual warmth. Harry had been up early, packing a small satchel with necessities—a few toys for Teddy, a change of clothes, and a handful of sweets he knew would keep his godson entertained during the small trip.
Teddy, of course, had been bouncing around since breakfast. At just two years old, his energy seemed endless, and the prospect of seeing his godmother sent him into a frenzy of excitement. He toddled through the hall, clutching his stuffed kneazle—an enchanted toy Harry had picked up for him in Diagon Alley—chanting, "'Mione! 'Mione!" as though repeating her name might make her appear faster.
Andromeda, who had taken to resting more after the exhausting days of exploring Britain, stood by the doorway to see them off. She adjusted Teddy's cloak, smoothing the fabric with a grandmotherly tenderness. "Don't let him tire Hermione out too much, Harry," she said with a knowing smile. "He's in that phase where every new face is a playground."
Harry grinned. "She won't mind. If anything, I think she'll be glad for the company."
"Be safe," Andromeda added, pressing a kiss to Teddy's head before sending them on their way.
London was alive with its usual mix of bustle and noise, but Harry moved cautiously, even though the war was long over, a part of him remained vigilant whenever he walked among Muggles—old habits carved deep by years of danger.
Teddy, perched on Harry's arm now, marveled at the buses and taxis rolling by. His hair—today a shock of bright turquoise—earned a few curious glances from passersby, but Harry had layered a subtle glamour over them. To anyone else, Teddy's unusual colors seemed like nothing more than tricks of the light.
"Big cars, Daddy!" Teddy said, pointing at a red double-decker bus that thundered past.
"That's right," Harry replied with a smile. "They take people all over the city. Maybe when you're bigger, we'll buy one for ourselves."
Teddy clapped his little hands, delighted at the thought, before resting his head on Harry's shoulder.
After a long cab ride, they arrived at a quieter part of town. The noise of the traffic faded, replaced by the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant bark of a dog. The houses here were neat rows of brick, each with tidy gardens and trimmed hedges.
Teddy wriggled out of Harry's arms, insisting on walking the last stretch himself. His little legs stumbled, but he marched forward with determined steps, clutching his stuffed kneazle in one hand.
"Almost there," Harry said softly, watching the boy toddle ahead.
Finally, they stopped in front of a familiar townhouse. The white curtains in the windows swayed gently, and the small garden in front bloomed with late-summer flowers. Hermione's home looked unchanged, and yet, Harry felt a lump form in his throat.
Teddy reached up and tugged on Harry's sleeve. "Knock now, Daddy?"
Harry crouched beside him, smiling. "Yes, cub. We're here."
Harry didn't know how to proceed as he stood before the Grangers' front door. His stomach knotted with unease. The last time he had set foot here—only weeks ago—Hermione's father had struck him squarely across the face. The memory burned in his mind, the sharp crack of knuckles against skin echoing louder than it should have.
Now, everything felt even more uncertain. Apollo had arrived since then, and Harry had no idea what Hermione had told her parents. Did they know that Apollo was the father of her unborn child? Or had she left the story tangled, leaving Mr. and Mrs. Granger still believing Harry was to blame?
Harry's thoughts spiraled in confusion, but before he could sort them out, Teddy—who had grown restless at the long wait—brought his tiny fist down on the door with an impatient thump. The sound was small, but to Harry's ears it felt like a thunderclap.
From inside came the shuffle of footsteps. Then the door creaked open, and Mr. Granger stood framed in the threshold. His eyes locked onto Harry at once, hard and hostile. The weight of his glare left no room for misunderstanding: Hermione hadn't told him the truth.
Mr. Granger's gaze drifted downward to Teddy, who looked—for all the world—like a miniature version of Harry himself. The resemblance was undeniable: the dark hair, the green eyes, even the stubborn tilt of his chin. Harry saw the instant judgment flicker across the man's face, saw the anger ignite.
"You already have a child of your own," Mr. Granger snapped, voice low and biting, "and you try to make another one? Are you mad?"
Harry opened his mouth to explain, but Teddy had already darted past Mr. Granger's legs, squealing with delight as he bolted into the house.
"Teddy—!" Harry started, but it was too late. The boy was gone, giggling down the hall. Mr. Granger gave Harry a withering glare before spinning on his heel to follow after the runaway toddler.
Harry stepped cautiously inside, his heart hammering in his chest. He could hear Teddy shouting joyfully down the corridor, calling, "'Mione! 'Mione!"
Moments later, Hermione appeared, cradling Teddy in her arms. The boy buried his face against her shoulder, squealing with laughter. Harry's breath caught as his eyes shifted from Teddy to her.
Her pregnancy was showing now—her stomach rounded beneath her dress, unmistakable.
She looked up and met his gaze. A soft, almost hesitant smile curved her lips.
Harry's voice came out strained as he tried to explain, though every word seemed to falter under Mr. Granger's piercing glare.
"Teddy's my godson," Harry said quickly. "He's not mine by blood—his parents died during the war. I took him in. He's a metamorphmagus… he can change his appearance whenever he likes."
Mr. Granger's frown deepened. His eyes flickered from Harry to Teddy, then back again, as though he were searching for a lie. "A likely story," he muttered darkly.
Harry turned toward Teddy, who was perched happily in Hermione's lap. "Go on, Teddy," Harry coaxed softly. "Show them. Change your hair for them."
But Teddy only clutched Hermione's sleeve and shook his head, curls of dark hair bobbing stubbornly. His little face scrunched with defiance. "No Daddy!" he squealed.
Harry's heart sank. Of all times for Teddy to refuse. Mr. and Mrs. Granger exchanged a look of suspicion, their lips pressed into tight lines. The silence stretched, broken only by Teddy's soft giggles as Hermione tickled his side.
Finally, Hermione looked up, her hand resting gently on her stomach. Her voice was calm but resolute. "Mum, Dad… this baby I'm carrying—this is Teddy's sibling. His brother or sister."
Mr. Granger's jaw tightened at once. His hands curled into fists at his sides, the knuckles paling. He didn't speak, but the tension in his body said enough. Harry felt the weight of it pressing on him, the unspoken accusation still burning in the man's eyes.
Harry shifted uncomfortably, caught between relief that Hermione had spoken and dread at the hostility simmering in the room. He didn't know how to move forward, how to bridge the gulf between what they believed and the truth Hermione hadn't shared.
But Teddy, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing around him, wriggled down from Hermione's lap. He toddled over to the small bag Harry had brought and began rummaging inside. With a triumphant squeal, Teddy pulled out a handful of toys—wooden soldiers and a little enchanted spinning top Harry had bought him from Grimmauld Place.
"Look!" Teddy cried in his broken toddler speech, waving a soldier at Mrs. Granger.
The woman blinked, taken aback, as the boy toddled over and pressed the toy into her hand. "Dis one fight dragon!" he declared proudly, his words slurred but filled with joy.
Mrs. Granger's lips twitched despite herself, and even Mr. Granger hesitated, watching as Teddy plopped down on the carpet and began arranging his toys with all the seriousness of a seasoned general.
Within moments, the living room was filled with Teddy's laughter as he babbled and demonstrated his little collection. "Spinny go zooom!" he shouted, sending the top whirling across the floor. Both Grangers found themselves crouched down beside him before long, caught in his infectious excitement.
Harry stood back, stunned. Beside him, Hermione watched too, her expression softening as she leaned against the wall.
"Teddy has that effect," Harry said quietly, his voice almost in awe. "He can charm anyone."
Hermione smiled faintly, nodding. And together they watched as Teddy, their unintentional peacekeeper, slowly turned suspicion into something softer.
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