For A Happier Life

It was a brisk October morning. The trees had all but shed their leaves, to be crunched upon by a young man with untidy black hair and glasses. He wore modest robes that looked slightly too worn, and he had an air of being much older than he actually was.

The Hogwarts gates had been left open, and Harry had quickly walked his old shortcut down past Hagrid’s hut, from which smoke furled comfortably from the chimney. He thought he’d perhaps go down to visit, but he had something to see to first.

Upon seeing a class queuing up inside one of the greenhouses, waiting for the bell, Harry changed direction and made his way there, pausing only when the old bells chimed, and he smiled in remembrance. Kids rushed out of the greenhouse, brushing past him, eager for their free time before dinner, with several backward glances.

They’d seen him here before, but it was still something to be wondered at, Harry Potter coming down to Greenhouse Five.

The last to exit the greenhouse was a tall man with long, pulled-back hair. He had the same sort of feeling about him as Harry, as though he’d seen and done things that had made him old beyond his years.

Upon seeing his old friend, Neville’s face lit up, and Harry saw the faintest trace of the chubby, bumbling boy that had disappeared so long ago.

“Harry!” he said, holding out his arms. The two men embraced, “How are you?”

“Not bad, how’re you? How’s Parvati?”

“We’re excellent, though the twins are wreaking havoc. Poor Parvati says she realizes now what her mother had to go through, and they’d had girls!” Neville sobered a bit, looking at Harry closely, “So you got Vector’s owl?”

Harry nodded, and the two of them resumed Harry’s path, walking slowly around the castle.

“How long has it been going on?” asked Harry.

“I’d noticed it his first year, but then it started happening more and more as time passed.” said the professor, looking troubled, “This term, he seems to spend all of his free time out there, just sitting…He quit the Quidditch team, too, just after their match last month.”

Neville sighed, looking vaguely out into the forest, “I tried talking to him, as his professor, as his Head of House, as his friend, and I thought I’d made some progress, but he’d come back, day after day. He started to miss meals, and…well, I’d had to come get him one night when we were having this terrific thunderstorm…I’m just…at a loss for what to do. I don’t want to have to confine him to the castle, but…”

Neville stopped walking, looking seriously at Harry, the emotions written clearly on his face, “His father was one of the first to believe in me, in what I could do, if I only applied myself. I just feel like…I’m failing him…by failing his son…”

Harry put a hand on Neville’s shoulder, “Neville, come on. You’re a brilliant professor, and a wicked Head of House. The kids all look up to you, and not just because you’re a war hero,” Harry looked down the hill, to where dozens of stones were set in the grass by the lakeside, “He’s just had a hard time. Harder than the rest of the kids. Anyway, if anyone’s failing him, it’s me.”

Neville sighed, “Well, thanks, Harry. Come by my rooms for a drink, will you? Unless you’ve got to get back to the office…”

“Nah, took the day off. Left Ron in charge.” said Harry, “A drink would be fantastic.”

Neville went off up to the castle, and Harry set off down the hill.

The graveyard was small, but larger than it perhaps should have been. The gravestones were set in a square around a white tomb, which Harry stopped at for a moment, standing very still between it and a black stone directly to the right, before moving slowly on.

Once he got a bit closer, he could clearly see the feet of someone sitting behind a wide tombstone. He had grown a bit since Harry had last seen him over the summer holidays, and Harry could see brown hair sticking up over the top of the stone.

“Hi, Harry,” he said, not getting up or looking around.

“Hi, Teddy,” replied the older man, who stood in front of the grave, reading it, though he had memorized it, and, indeed, caused the words to be written there.

“Professor Longbottom owled you, didn’t he?” Teddy said.

“Actually, no,” said Harry, moving around to sit with Teddy against the stone, “The Headmistress did, though Neville did come to her about it.”

A moment of silence followed this, and they looked out at the lake.

Teddy spoke again, his voice, already deep, was quite calm, “There’s nothing to worry about, you’re all really just going overboard for nothing.”

Harry looked at his godson. He looked almost exactly like his father, except with no scars and completely brown hair.

“Has anyone ever told you about how your parents first got together?” asked Harry rather suddenly.

Teddy looked at him in slight surprise, “Well, yeah, I suppose…they met in the Order of the Pheonix…”

Harry waved his hand, “Well, yes, of course. But you never heard how they got together, though?”

“Er, no,” said Teddy, “Is this going to be a weird and embarrassing story, Harry?”

Harry laughed, “I hope not.” He stopped and looked out at the lake again, where the sea monster was floating lazily.

“Right, well, it was my sixth year when I started to notice that something funny was up with your mum, because she wasn’t her usual self. Hermione thought it might have been guilt or depression from Sirius dying, you know, the summer before. You know, my godfather…”

“Yeah, I know,”

“Right, anyway, being an emotionally confused sixteen-year-old boy, I naturally went down the completely wrong path on this and came to the conclusion that Tonks… er… your mum, had been in love with Sirius.”

“But…but they were cousins!” sputtered Teddy, whatever he’d been thinking before completely lost.

“Second cousins, and, well, that was before the war. Wizards have seriously gotten away from marrying anyone within a six person radius on their family tree by now, but back then it was common practice, mostly among the xenophobic pureblood families, to marry even their first cousins,” said Harry.

“We’re actually distantly related, by the way, through your mum’s side, something like fifth cousins or something, I’ll have to look at the tree. Anyway,” Harry said, realizing he was rambling, “all of this is beside the point. The point is that I was dead wrong about which Marauder your mother had fallen in love with.”

“My dad,” said Teddy sadly.

“Right. Your dad. The night Professor Dumbledore died, we were all standing around in the infirmary around Bill Weasley’s bed, since he’d just been attacked by an un-transformed werewolf, gasping and mumbling and wondering what was to be done about such and such, when it happened. Out of the thin blue, your mum all but tackles your dad, telling him that he was being stupid, that Fleur still wanted to marry Bill, no matter what happened.”

“And then they lived happily ever after, for a whole other year,” Said Teddy miserably.

“Not really,” said Harry, ignoring Teddy’s depressed words, “Your mum had been in love with Remus for several years now, and the only reason he didn’t want to be with her was to protect her, because he was a werewolf. She was a right mess, your mum. She couldn’t concentrate, her patronus changed form, she couldn’t metamorph properly. But after that night, well, something must have changed, your dad must have realized that Tonks was quite powerful in her own right, and that they deserved a chance to be happy, because the next time I saw them, at Dumbledore’s funeral, your mum’s hair was the brightest shade of pink imaginable,” Harry said, his tone almost chipper.

Teddy said nothing, and fiddled with a loose string on his robes.

“After that, they got married, and some time passed before it was your dad’s turn to start looking depressed all the time. I could hardly give it any thought, though, because by this time I was in hiding,” Harry paused as Teddy ran his hand through his hair, he’d heard his famous godfather’s story a thousand times, and had been asked to repeat it by his schoolmates nearly as often, “Anyway,” Harry went on, “One night we got the shit scared out of us by your dad, who showed up and wanted to throw his lot in with us.”

“And you told him no, that Professor Dumbledore gave you three the task to do alone,” said Teddy, almost reciting.

“Well, yes,” Harry said, a small smile on his face, “But then I asked why he was leaving your mum behind. He said she was pregnant, and that she was better off without a werewolf for a husband and father to her child.”

Teddy still did not look at his godfather, but he was frowning slightly. He’d never heard this part of the story before.

“So I got all upset, having grown up without a dad, called him a coward and all but chased him out of the house.”

Now Teddy looked at Harry, his eyes wide and incredulous.

“I was an emotional kid at the time,” said Harry mildly, “But the whole point of this story was that your dad loved your mum, and he loved you. The happiest I’ve ever seen him was the day you were born, when he came to tell me that I was your godfather. He loved you both so much that he wanted the best life possible for the two of you, even if it meant having to stay away.”

“But then they both came,” Teddy said bitterly, “They both came to the battle, right? I know I’m being selfish, I know!” tears ran down his face, and he quickly and angrily brushed them away, “It’s just that…no one seems to understand…they all come down and look reverently at the graves and say that my parents were heroes…and…” Teddy swallowed forcefully, and lapsed into silence.

“And you wish, perhaps, that they hadn’t tried to fight the Dark Lord quite so hard?” asked Harry quietly.

Teddy nodded, “And…and I know…that you lost your…p-parents too…and I’m sorry…and…and that’s why I never…never talked to you about it…” he stopped, because Harry had thrown his arm around the boy.

“Teddy,” Harry said, “ I’m sorry…I should have come to you about this long ago. I know exactly how you feel…it took me a long time to come to terms with why, exactly, my parents died, and I was far older than you were when I first learned about it.”

Teddy ran his hand through his hair again.

“You look just like your father when you do that,” said Harry.

Teddy smiled at him. Color was rushing into his hair, turning blue.

“And you look just like your mother when you do that,” laughed Harry, standing up and holding out a hand to his godson, “Come on, I’ll walk you up to the castle.”

“You don’t have to…”

“It’s fine, I’m getting drunk with your Herbology professor anyway,”

“Come on now, Harry, what’ll everyone say in the morning when you stumble out of the grounds with a hangover?”

“Alright, Mum, just one drink then,” said Harry, as the two walked through the graves, “By the way, if you want to talk to someone about growing up with a grandmother like yours, go find Professor Longbottom.”

Teddy laughed.

“Yeah, your father once taught him to banish a boggart by giving it his old Gran’s hat and handbag…”

~~~~~

The sounds of retreating laughter could still be heard in the quiet graveyard, where a wide tombstone read the words;


Dora Tonks Lupin and Remus J. Lupin

…for a happier life…