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Teddy rubs at his cheek furiously, annoyed by the little slick of saliva still left there. He doesn’t understand his godfather’s insistent need to embarrass him in public in such an aggressively affectionate manner. He can’t even claim to not know the guy (and he really wants to when Harry catches him in a back-hug just when he’s about to step out of class; all his traitor friends just stand by the side and laugh behind their hands)–it’s widely public knowledge that he’s Harry’s godson.
There is no escape. He will just have to brave it, like a bloody Gryffindor.
“Ted! Oi!” Abbott shouts for him and Teddy halts his fast pacing to let his friend join him. “That was quite the... ” Abbot wiggles his eyebrows, “demonstration of love–don’t you think?”
“Arsehole,” Teddy smacks him with the Defence textbook in his hand. “If you were subjected to such constant harassment, would you find it so funny then?”
“Of course,” Abbott replies without missing a beat. A grin splits his lips, “I’d actually find it hilarious, mate. Getting smothered by Professor Potter? Who would say no to that?”
“Me,” Teddy says flatly, his turquoise hair slowly returning to a darker shade of blue he prefers. “Can’t even hex the man. He’s too good at conjuring shields at a moment’s notice. Do you think I can convince Professor Neville to get me some poisoned weeds? I could dose Harry. He trusts me too much.”
“Oye, calm down there, wannabe-murderer,” Abbott places a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s get some food in us and then we can plot your godfather’s death.”
“Fine–do you think there’ll be roast chicken today as well?” Teddy asks as the two make their way towards the Great Hall. “That reminds me. Is plunging a knife through Harry’s stomach too muggle? It would be fun, though.”
“Ted,” Abbott says, “Please remind me to never piss you off again.”
Teddy grins and proclaims grandly, “Yes. Be scared of me for I will vanquish the man the Dark Lord couldn’t.”
“You know, if you keep joking about this so casually, someone might think you’re actually serious.”
“Who says I’m not?” Teddy brandishes the butter knife he holds towards Abbott for good measure. His friend gives him a dirty look before both of them get too busy shovelling food in their mouths to carry on any kind of conversation.
*
It’s five minutes past midnight and the Hufflepuff common room is alight and alive with celebratory cheer. Teddy is hoisted up in the arms of his housemates, along with another fifth who shares his birthday with him. It’s a house tradition to celebrate each and every birthday together. It feels nice.
Teddy thanks everyone who wishes him and accepts small trinkets and gifts from his friends. The seventh years are too busy with their N.E.W.Ts but they’d made sure to leave behind an assortment of snacks they’d all contributed towards at their last Hogsmead visit. The fifth year, Roselinda Macmillan, joins him in opening up as many chocolate frogs as they can and shoving them in their mouths. They all sit and chat in small circles, playing chess or cards or just conversing about any topic that comes to mind.
Eventually, when the loud din of conversation dies down to murmurs, it’s almost two in the morning. The Prefects set to work and slowly get everyone to disperse and get started towards their respective dorms.
Teddy trudges to his dorm that he shares with Peter Abbott and two others. He feels all warm and full and extremely, extremely sleepy. All he wants to do is climb onto his cozy mattress, shut the blinds and fall into blissful slumber.
Too lost in the haze of sleepiness, he doesn’t notice the slight depression on his bed, the wrinkled sheets. What happens then is direct–he makes to put his knee on the bed but it comes in contact with something soft and a little bony and Teddy shrieks (he likes to think of it is as a warning yell for his friends, very voluntarily made) and he falls flat on his butt.
Something shimmers in the air before him, moves, and there’s Harry, sitting on Teddy’s bloody bed. He smiles sheepishly at Teddy and offers a hand. Teddy glares at him and shuffles to his feet.
“Again?” Teddy asks futilely, knowing all too well his godfather’s tendencies to sneak around and break rules–rules that clearly tell Professors to stay out of student dorms, unless they’re head of that house.
“Again,” Harry agrees. He gives Teddy a grin with an edge of wildness to it and pulls out a thick piece of folded parchment from his jacket. He pats the mattress right next to him and Teddy sighs before taking a seat.
“This is now yours,” Harry hands him the empty paper, “Happy Birthday you brat.”
“This is some really... refined parchment. Thanks?” Teddy wonders if Harry’s finally gone senile–he shouldn’t have, he’s pretty young. But there is a possibility–
Harry laughs, “It’s enchanted, you fool. Get your wand out.”
Teddy gets his wand in his hand and raises a brow at Harry, feeling dubious about this whole thing. “Now what?”
“Point it at the map and say ‘I solemnly swear that I’m up to no good.’”
Feeling just a tad silly, Teddy does and suddenly words appear on the parchment and unfurling it reveals a whole map of Hogwarts.
“Marauder’s Map,” Harry tells him and explains how the map works, how to use it, how to turn it back. Teddy listens with muted wonderment–this map, right here, belonged to his father once, afterall.
“Awesome,” Teddy mutters and returns Harry’s grin.
There’s a knock on the door, followed by a couple more. His friends have finally bothered to get their arses back to their room then. He makes a shooing motion towards Harry and throws the invisibility cloak in the man’s direction.
Harry, that crazy, infuriating prat, flicks his wand in the door’s direction and it flies open. His friends stand in the doorway, frozen to see a Professor in their dorm.
Then, Harry marches towards Teddy and hugs him tightly, one hair ruffling his hair. Teddy groans loudly and when it becomes clear that Harry won’t step back and that he doesn’t have a knife handy to stab him with, Teddy resigns himself to his fate and throws his arms around his godfather and hugs him back.
Harry pulls back after a whole minute, a teasing smile on his face as Teddy glares daggers at him.
“What was that for?” Teddy grumble-asks, like he would actually ever understand this madman of a godfather he’s got.
“Your Birthday Gift,” Harry says.
“This,” Teddy waves around the parchment in his hand, “is my gift.”
“No,” Harry says sweetly. “That is your rightful property. My warm, comfy, cozy hug is your actual gift.”
“Out,” Teddy points a finger towards the door with all the haughtiness he can muster. Harry chuckles, giving his hair another ruffle.
Then he’s walking out, his friends parting to let him pass. They stand transfixed before Harry’s call of, “Get to bed, boys!” snaps them out of it.
“That,” Abbott says, pointing in the general direction of Teddy and where Harry had been, “is a whole different type of Public Display of Affection altogether.”
Teddy chucks a pillow at him.