❝The war is won❞
Voldemort has been defeated by Harry Potter for good, and the Wizarding World has begun its healing. The paved streets of Diagon Alley are filled with people vanishing broken glass, fixing up robbed shops, and reinstating their bus...
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AUGUST 3, 1998
HARRY
TEDDY SEIZED A HANDFUL OF HARRY'S HAIR, pulling fiercely. Harry winced, and, seeing his twisted expression and mistaking it for a funny face, Teddy giggled and his hair turned bright blue.
"Now, you don't pull people's hair, Teddy," Harry said through the stinging, wrangling his straight black hair out of the little boy's grip. Teddy let out a whine, similar to the sound of a tea kettle, and reluctantly let go, swatting at the bottle of warm milk on the table next to them. The warm light filtered through the Tonks' wall-length windows.
The boy had just turned three months old. Andromeda kept bags of milk warm for him in their storage, received from the Ministry's weekly donation services. Kingsley had done a good job with all the relief efforts post-war. His tenure as Minister had started two months ago, and he was already putting the wizards under him to work, despite the publicizing he was supposed to be paying attention to. And it was good for everyone. They all needed a dependable, trustworthy wizard to tell them what to do.
In an effort to remain away from the tabloids, Harry had filled up his imaginary itinerary with everything except 'walking around the streets of Wizard London doing nothing'. Kingsley had offered him a decent job in the Auror office only two days after the Battle, and Harry had settled into his position as a Junior Specialist. All of the employees had been tasked with tracking the remaining Death Eaters and Dark Lord loyalists immediately after the Battle, but now, over a month into their time of peace, all of them had been found.
Thus, the job was sound at the moment, though last week Harry had been assigned a small search time to track down the Gringotts Dragon and bring it back to the bank.
He was very thankful that the Ministry had provided him with a small flat in London, given he would rather face the dragon again than live at Grimmauld Place. It was a two-year arrangement, with no decorations, a small kitchen and bathroom, two armchairs, and a single connecting bedroom.
He had also been spending an increasingly long time at the Tonks' house, a charming brown one-story with massive windows and slanted roofing. Andromeda had been extremely welcoming; with the death of her husband, daughter, and son-in-law, Harry could tell she'd been lonely recently, and he had convinced her to start holding little potlucks and luncheons at her house every few days.
He looked at the near-empty bottle of milk again. Tonks should be here to feed him, he thought bitterly. Though he knew he should not dwell on the past.
Teddy's face pinched, and he let out a squalling cry rivaling a tropical bird. Andromeda hurried in, dark circles looking hollow and brown against her sun-kissed skin.
"Here, give him to me," she said, her hands opened wide. Teddy squealed at the sight of her a streak of ashy brown running through his blue hair matching his grandmother's.
