01
At the Burrow, everyone’s attention had settled on the two little ones, Teddy and Victoire.
Victoire was glued to Fleur, refusing to let go even for a bath, terrified of being separated for even a second.
Teddy, by contrast, was far less clingy.
Teddy behaved, letting Andromeda and Harry give Teddy a bath without fuss.
Only Harry couldn’t help hoping that Teddy’s good behavior wasn’t born from having lost both parents, from having no one left to cling to.
He couldn’t help wondering: if Tonks or Remus were still alive, would Teddy have been hanging off them the same way Victoire hung off Fleur?
He knew that feeling all too well.
From the age of four, Petunia had refused to bathe him anymore.
The young Harry had been terrified of the bathtub and the showerhead alike.
The bathtub felt like a deep well that could swallow him whole at any moment, and the water from the showerhead came down hard enough to sting.
But he had no one to depend on.
He could only watch in silence as Petunia coaxed Dudley into the bath with a face full of warmth.
“Teddy Bear.” Harry gently ruffled Teddy’s damp hair.
During the bath just now, that bright red had shifted to a pale gold.
Harry guessed Teddy was imitating Chloe.
Teddy was far more bashful about the nickname these days.
Back when Teddy used to be called that, Teddy would puff out a little chest with pride.
Now, Teddy only puffed out both cheeks and stared at Harry with a sulky look, wearing every bit of that small displeasure plainly on Teddy’s face.
“You know…” Harry took the towel Andromeda passed over and began drying Teddy’s hair.
“It’s okay to be scared. You know that, right?”
Like Harry, Teddy also hated the Drying Charm.
Teddy pressed both lips together and looked at Harry without answering, letting out only a quiet sound, muffled and heavy, like a small dog soaked through by the rain.
“Do you want me to hold you? Hmm?” Harry crouched down and spread both arms wide.
“Come on. Let your poor godfather have a hug. I’ve really missed your hugs.”
The moment he finished speaking, Teddy lunged forward and threw both arms hard around Harry’s neck, pressing the whole of that small body into his chest.
Andromeda crouched down beside them.
The two exchanged a look, heartache and quiet relief, held together in one glance.
Andromeda reached out and gently stroked Teddy’s hair.
The motion was so tender it made the nose sting.
After everything they had been through, neither Teddy nor Victoire had much of an appetite.
Molly had no choice but to make sweet porridge, then coaxed them through some ice cream on top of that, and only after considerable effort did the two children manage to eat a little.
After the ice cream, both were visibly lighter.
They watched a Muggle television program for a while, and soon their small bodies were overtaken by sleep.
Once Teddy and Victoire were settled into bed, Molly finally let out a breath, sinking almost completely into the chair.
“Thank goodness… thank goodness neither of them got hurt.”
Fleur and Andromeda still couldn’t rest easy and stayed in the room to keep watch.
Bill held Dominique and rocked gently.
Perhaps sensing the unusually heavy atmosphere that had settled over the evening, Dominique was remarkably quiet, curled obediently in Bill’s arms. The source of this chapter is g.com.
Arthur wrapped both arms around Molly, patting Molly’s back in slow, steady strokes, smoothing away all the fright of the day.
In the sitting room, Harry sat on the sofa and didn’t move.
Ron watched him go too long without speaking.
“Harry. This isn’t your fault. Don’t blame yourself.”
Ron knew Harry too well.
Harry’s eyes dropped.
His expression was flat.
“I shouldn’t have worked late on Friday. If I’d gotten there sooner, Teddy and the others wouldn’t have…”
“This isn’t your responsibility.” Percy gave Harry’s shoulder a pat.
“Vita said Teddy could have left on his own — Teddy stayed in the fire to keep her company.”
“Completely Harry’s child, isn’t that right?” Angelina said with a smile.
“A brave little hero.”
The others laughed, all of it kindly meant.
But Harry’s fist slowly clenched.
This was the part Harry feared most.
The fear that Teddy would idolize him and follow in his footsteps, wanting to become a hero.
Harry had never wanted Teddy to be a hero.
He would rather Teddy grew up a little selfish, a little cowardly, thinking of nothing but looking after Teddy’s own self.
He despised the title of Savior, and despised the thought of that title casting its shadow over Teddy.
“Teddy also takes after a father and mother.” Hermione noticed Harry’s silence and laid a hand lightly on his arm.
“Remus and Tonks were both heroes.”
She was trying to comfort him.
The words didn’t help.
Just look, every role model in Teddy’s life had either fallen in the war, or clawed through it on nine lives, stepping on the shoulders of the people they loved to survive…
A sudden cry shattered the quiet.
Everyone rose at once, turning toward the inner rooms.
Harry was the first through the door, carrying a dazed Teddy out.
Teddy lay against Harry’s chest, blinking in a half-waking daze, while Victoire sobbed in Fleur’s arms, struggling to catch breath between each cry.
“I… I got burned… Mummy…”
Victoire shook all over under the weight of that terror, as though falling back into the flames.
02
Chloe’s phone rang at ten o’clock that evening.
She kept fairly regular hours, especially on weekends when she was staying with Maria, when she would fall in with Maria’s routine.
The screen showed an unknown number.
Chloe answered anyway.
“Hello, is this Dr. Aiken?”
A familiar voice.
Hermione Granger.
She’d forgotten to save Hermione’s name in the phone.
“Speaking. Has something happened?” Woken from sleep, Chloe’s voice came out slightly hoarse.
Hermione had clearly caught the tiredness in it, because the tone on the other end turned even more apologetic.
“I’m sorry, Chloe, I really didn’t want to disturb you — but Victoire has been waking from nightmares on and off all evening, and Teddy isn’t doing well right now either…”
“Oh, it’s fine — you haven’t disturbed me.” Chloe cleared her throat.
“Have the children said anything on their own about the fire?”
“No.” The phone passed to someone else, still a woman’s voice, but carrying an unmistakable French accent.
“Victoire has only kept saying that she was burned.”
“Don’t panic.” Chloe kept her voice calm.
“You need to stay calm yourselves, that’s what will help the children relax.”
“Do the children have a favorite blanket? Wrap them in something soft. Not too tight, don’t let them feel confined.”
Chloe heard a flurry of noise from the other end of the line.
She paused, then continued.
“If there’s a fireplace in the house, make sure the fire is put out completely. Don’t let the children see anything fire-related for the time being.”
Chloe would swear that the moment she said that, she heard the unmistakable sound of a spell being cast, followed by Hermione hissing under her breath: “She’s a Muggle!”
Then came Ron’s not-quite-convinced reply: “Which means she has absolutely no idea what that was.”
Chloe let out a quiet sigh and pretended not to have heard either remark.
“Nightmares are completely normal. All you need to do is hold the children, rock them gently, and tell them they don’t need to be afraid, that you’ll keep them safe. Things like that.”
“Given what they went through, make sure to leave a small lamp on by their bedside and keep the hallway light on. Don’t close the bedroom door either, so that when they wake suddenly, they can see clearly what’s beyond the doorway.”
A voice from the other end offered thanks, Chloe couldn’t tell whose, and then came another stretch of muffled noise.
Chloe lay back down in bed and held the phone to her ear.
She waited for a long time.
She had started to drift toward drowsiness again when a clear voice came through from the other end.
“Thank you, Dr. Aiken.” Harry Potter.
Chloe couldn’t help wondering how many hands that mobile had passed through tonight.
“Not at all, Mr. Potter.” Her reply was soft.
A few seconds of silence.
Then Harry’s voice came through, weighted with guilt.
“Dr. Aiken, I owe you an apology for how I behaved last time.”
“Hmm?” Chloe made a puzzled sound, not following.
“During the last session…”
“Mr. Potter.” Harry heard Chloe cut in, steady and unequivocal.
“That was part of the session as well. You had every right not to want to speak with me.”
“And during a session, you don’t need to carry my feelings. What matters is your feelings, what’s troubling you. So there is nothing for you to feel sorry about.”
Harry thought that Chloe truly did have a kind of magic about her, just as George had said.
Because right now, he genuinely wanted to believe every word she had just said.
➤ Next: The Second Session