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Harry Potter and the Quiet Life	By : marrjisback Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Neville Views: 15576 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: i do NOT own Harry potter nor am I making any profit from this story

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A/N: Just a little Prolougue. Story Takes place three years after voldemort. I;ve always liked neville and harry together. what do you thing? Comment please!

After Voldemort (A.V. Era)

Harry James Potter had never thought he would be a father.

Quiet frankly, until recently, he hadn’t the time. Firstly, Harry was sure he would not live to be old enough to father anything. Anything past 17 was a delightful surprise. He was pleased to simply find himself alive. Secondly, Harry had been sure that if he ever found anyone special he would be careful not to get involved for fear Voldemort would kill them. But Voldemort is dead. He wanted to say that again. It was a wonderful thing to be able to say. Voldemort is dead. An odd feeling. Harry had spent so much time worrying about Voldemort that he had never thought about what he would do when Voldemort was gone. He still recalled the first morning he woke up knowing Voldemort was dead.

He’d been taking a much needed nap in the Hogwarts dorms and when he awoke, he was confused. He thought for sure he had dreamt the whole thing up and was still in his sixth year of Hogwarts. He ambled down the stairs in a befuddled state, wandering right into the common room, dazed and glazed. To his surprise, the room was filled with people; wizards, goblins, centaurs, house elves. They were not a very quiet lot. He stared at them wide eyed and they silenced, gazing back at him in hushed awe. Harry scratched his head.

“So, he really is dead then? Good. Thought I dreamt the whole thing up. ” then Harry laughed. He laughed so hard he cried. He laughed and cried until he was just crying. The room sobbed and laughed with him, relief and joy and grief and pain mingling in surprise flushed every person in the room. Mrs. Wesley started kissing Arthur and Fleur was all over Bill, and when Hermione flung herself at Ron, they barely parted to breathe. It was delight and anguish squished into one piece. Harry had thought, for sure, it would be the best moment of his life.

He was wrong. Yes, many wonders would occur that would, at the very least tie that moment. His wedding day, Ron and Hermiones wedding; so many things. But we’re getting ahead of ourselves. For now, the great moment that obliterated that one, was right now. Harry held a very small being in his arms. Teddy Remus Lupin was curled around Harry. He was suckling his thumb, as baby’s often do, but unlike most baby’s his hair was currently a sherbet orange. The small life that snuggled into his warmth breathed light, soft breaths with fat pink lips and rosy cheeks. He somehow looked like a chubby, squished up Lupin. Except the lips. Plump and lovely like Tonks’ and the round wide shape of his eyes looked like Mrs. Tonks’. Harry wished he could find a part of himself in there, wished he would find his nose or fingers or anything. But that was impossible. The baby was not Harry’s baby. But why did it feel so right to hold him? Why did his warmth feel so perfect in Harry’s slightly awkward cradle?

Harry wanted to raise him. Before he had met Teddy he had spoken with Mrs. Tonks about his Godson. They had agreed that Harry could not look after his Godson all alone, that Mrs. Tonks would be the main caregiver. Harry could not abandoned his Godson, he knew first hand what that was like, but he could not raise him either. At least, that had been what he had thought. But how could he leave this babe now? An angel, quiet and sorrowful in his arms. Lovely and lonely. And alive. Breathing. Family that was breathing. A unique concept to Harry. Harry whispered to himself, awestruck by the idea.

“I have a son. ” Harry told the baby, bouncing Ted lightly. “Pretty baby,” he cooed at Teddy soothingly. The kettle blew startlingly loud in the other room, arousing the sleeping infant in a loud squeal. The babe let out a holler, crying in torched rivulets. In the kitchen Andormedon hurried to unplug the kettle. She had given Harry alone time with the baby, but he would not be able to hush the child back into sleep. She went to the living room rather quickly but stopped short.

Young Harry was bouncing the baby ever so slightly, rhythmically. He paced like a natural, Teddy balanced in his arms. He hummed gently, whispering soft words. “Hush, hush, Teddy. I’ve got you. It’s alright, I’m here. I’ve got you.”

As Andromedon watched in stunned silence the baby slowly quieted. And that’s when Andromedon knew. She knew she was definitely not alone with a baby and no daughter or son-in-law. This boy could not leave the baby alone anymore than she could. He had said those words.

‘I’ve got you. ’

That was not tossed around lightly. To have someone meant catching them when they fell to pieces and sewing all the bits together again. “Got you’ implies that you would hold them while the world burned to ashes around them. That was a promise. A promise the boy was so ready to make.

"I've got you." Harry said, like a sigh more to himself that the baby.

And right there, in Andromedon Tonk's living room the A.V. era began.
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Harry Potter and the Quiet Life