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Teddy was soft.
That was all Harry could think sitting in the sunny window of The Burrow, everyone cried out and exhausted from the slew of funerals earlier this week. The last had been for Colin, and Harry had accepted the picture Dennis had pressed to his chest with a sorrowful smile. It was one he had never seen, where Harry was perpetually 14 and laughing with the twins by the lake, Colin's hand leaning into the shot to make them scoot closer. Teddy snuffled a bit in his bright golden onesie and Harry adjusted his hold, hoping he was doing this properly.
Teddy was so tiny and warm against his chest, and Harry abruptly realized he had spent more time with his own parents than Teddy had with his. It was an awful feeling to have, but he also knew with a burning certainty that Teddy would never cry and be ignored, would grow up with softer words than freak when he asked after his parents, Teddy would never sleep under dusty stairs.
"Your Dad was brilliant you know?" He told the baby whose tiny tuft of hair was shimmering into an electric green as he stared sleepily out at his, Merlin, his godfather . "The first time I met him he was ready to help me and all my friends, he was so brave. Your mum made me laugh, and she was so kind. And you'll be the best of them mate, I'm sure of it." Harry smiled at those unfocused eyes and something made him lean down to press a kiss to his godson's head.
He had kissed Molly Weasely's cheek in the makeshift hospital, Ginny on a ruined path of the Hogwarts grounds while the sun rose, he had kissed a snitch in the dead of night in the woods, but this was different.
Harry Potter kissed his godson's tiny forehead as a hello, a promise of how they would begin, and he thought Tonks and Professor Lupin would have been proud.