This one-shot is dedicated to my beloved nymphxdora. Your love and enthusiasm always inspire me, as does your brilliant writing.

You Will Be In Our Hearts

"You will be in our hearts."

"No matter what they say."

"You will be in our hearts."

"Always."

He laughed as his grandmother's Christmas present exploded in a cloud of pink smoke, turning her face a brilliant shade of pink. She coughed and blinked slowly, pursing her lips and glaring at him—although her dark eyes twinkled with mirth.

"You have outdone yourself this time around, young man," she said lightly, bringing forth her own, neatly wrapped present and placing it before him. With a sparkle in her eye, she said, "But I may have outdone you just yet."

He raised his eyebrows, curiosity taking the better of him as he clumsily unwrapped the present, shaking the rather plain looking box and 'Ooh'ing as it rattled. Placing his head on the table, he carefully lifted the edge of the box and tried to see inside. It was too dark to do so, though, so he grumbled at his grandmother's chortling and pried the cardboard lid open.

He sat back immediately with his eyes closed, expecting something to happen, but when there was no loud bang or scream or the like, he carefully leaned forwards, cracking an eye open and looking at the box's contents. His eyes immediately snapped open and his heart thudded in his chest at the sight of the familiar, ivory envelope.

Unable to tear his eyes away, he gingerly picked it up and stared at the small, turquoise heart that sealed the envelope shut. Carefully easing it open, he reached inside and pulled out a bright pink piece of parchment. His heart in his mouth, he very slowly opened it out, laying it down on the table and smoothing out the folds.

He swallowed thickly at the familiar, loopy handwriting that he had seen so many times before, followed by the familiar slanted scrawl, his breath catching against the lump in his throat as he began to read—

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" she asked hesitantly, swiping her cotton candy hair out of her eyes.

"As good as any," he replied, placing a warm hand atop her swollen belly.

She gave him a lopsided smile and leaned her head against his broad shoulder, sighing softly when he kissed her hair lightly.

"This is so unlike me," she muttered after a long moment of silence had passed. "Why am I letting your morose and depressing attitude influence my state of mind? If we're doing this, we're doing it right!"

So saying, she sat up and picking up a piece of parchment, muttered a spell, and changed it to a bright pink. He groaned beside her and she grinned up at him. "Gotta go that extra mile to show we care, yeah?"

"We wouldn't be doing this at all, if we didn't," he replied mildly, but smiled as he watched her pick up the quill.

"Let's see, now, how to start…"

"How about: Hello, Edward—"

"No, no, no! I refuse to let you traumatise my son with his very first letter by calling him Edward!"

"Our son," he reminded her, but she wasn't listening to him.

She stuck her tongue out as she frowned in concentration, tapping her multi-coloured quill against her chin. She then placed the parchment on her protruding belly and began scrawling on it, the scratching of the quill being the only sound that was heard for the next five minutes. She finally placed the quill down, held the letter out, scanned its contents, and with an annoyed yell, turned her mouth into the snout of a Dragon and lit the parchment on fire.

"Dora!" he exclaimed, putting out the flames before the burning pieces landed on her. He turned to her wide-eyed and his heart stilled as he saw the tears brimming in her now stormy eyes. "Dora," he said again, placing a hand at the base of her neck and caressing it in the way he knew would calm her down.

She sniffed and shook her head, staring straight ahead. After a moment, she turned fearful eyes shimmering with emotion to him and whispered, "I can't, Remus. I can't write our son his very first letter knowing that we won't—"

She broke off, her lower lip trembling as the tears broke free and flowed down her pale cheeks. He swallowed and tried to smile, stroking her cheek with his thumb and chuckling softly as she leaned into the caress. He hated it when she cried. She was always the one who laughed and joked and did crazy things, while he fretted and worried and over thought everything. So he absolutely did not know what to do when their roles were reversed.

Deciding that he may as well do something that she would have done, he picked up another piece of parchment and turned it into the same shade of pink as the parchment she had set aflame. He held out the parchment and the quill and smiled encouragingly at her as she stared blankly at them. Finally deciding that he may as well take the lead, he balanced the sheet atop her curved belly and began to write—

Hello Edward—no, Teddy! (Your mother refuses to allow me to "traumatise our son by calling him Edward," and who am I to disagree with her?)

And Happy Christmas!

He stopped and chanced a glance at her, smiling softly as she leaned forwards to get a better look at the letter, her brows furrowing slightly as she read what he had written. After a moment, she hummed and grabbing the quill from his hands, struck the lines out, writing her own, below—

Ignore your father, Teddy darling, he's a right old buffoon, he is. But anyway, Merry Christmas, sweetheart!

This is your first Christmas since you started at Hogwarts, isn't it? I'll bet you're super excited to exchange gifts with all your Hufflepuff friends! (You are in Hufflepuff, aren't you? Because those boisterous Gryffindors just don't let you have enough fun, if you ask me. Take your father, for instance—sucking the very essence out of the word!) (Hey!)

But anyway, Teddy, I hope you gave your good ol' grandma a nice eye-opening present, eh? Send her sprawling across the floor? That's my baby! Mummy's so proud! (Dora, stop it! I hope your grandmother didn't pass out in the process!)

Oh, by the way, this happens to be the very first letter we wrote you. This may sound funny—or maybe not, considering this is me we're talking about—but your dad just started writing this and I thought, why not? I hope you're having a fantastic time, sweetheart, and I hope you've made loads of new friends at school! I hope you've pulled a few pranks and gotten a few detentions, already! Anyway—

Well, Teddy, sorry for stealing the quill from your mother, but I thought it was about time your dad told you some things too. This may sound funny, coming from a Gryffindor as myself, (Oh, please) but stay safe, Teddy. And stay warm. Love your friends and love your time at school, but don't forget to have lots and lots of fun! (And show them what the strength of a true Hufflepuff is like!) Actually, make sure you have enough fun for both you and me because I didn't get the chance to have all that much. Happy Christmas again, son.

-Lots and lots of love, Dad.

Hey! Who said you could end the letter all on your own! (Sorry, Dora dear) Your father is such a prat sometimes, Teddy! But before I forget, I hope you like the little Christmas present we made you! I know this will be late, considering you'll get this much later than your other letters and presents, but as I said earlier, this was the first letter we wrote you, and this is the first present we made you!

She laughed as she placed the quill down and turned to him with a grin. "I have the perfect idea for this present," she said softly, her amber eyes glowing.

He watched as she picked up her wand and waved it, muttering incantations under her breath as she Transfigured a long piece of parchment into beautiful diary. It landed on the sofa between them with a soft thump and he smiled, waving his wand as he added a soft, velvet cover that would change colour according the moods of his writings, and special pockets beside the dates whenever he would get a letter from them.

He folded the letter they had just written, placed it in the ivory envelope and let her seal it shut with a small, turquoise heart. He smiled at her and she nodded, clasping her hands together, anticipation clear on her shining face.

He placed the letter in the pocket and patted it, handing the diary back to her so she could add little doodles in the pages, and he couldn't help but smile as he read the line she left on the pocket of the letter.

He pressed his hand to his mouth to muffle his sobs, but it didn't really matter very much, considering tears were streaming down his face. He laid the letter down as he picked up the diary from inside the box—it was a beautiful snowy white—and turned to the date of that day.

He saw his mother's familiar handwriting on the pocket as he slipped the letter in with trembling hands and tried to read it as he gasped for air.

P.S, The turquoise heart is because that's the colour I imagine to be yours—just as mine is a bright pink.

He laughed through his tears and ran a hand through his bright, turquoise hair as he thought that his mum was indeed right—as always. She knew him so well even before he had come out into the world. He touched the little picture of the house and Christmas tree that was drawn beside the postscript, loving that his mother never forgot to add in little drawings of home and happiness in all of her letters.

He had little to no memories of his parents—the only ones he had were from the letters and gifts they had left him. Initially, the memories of what little he remembered of them were painful and bitter, but now, it brought him immense and unbridled joy. He laughed through his tears as he turned to look at the first line in the page beside the pocket, where he would leave his very first diary entry—

You will be in our hearts. Always.

This was written for The Sacred Stones Competition in Diagon Alley II [link in my profile].

Prompts: Air, Strength, Storm, theme prompt: Bitter memories, ring prompt: Home.

The underlined words are the prompts.

Word count: between 1500 and 200. My story has a word count of 1772.

I was actually quite disappointed that I couldn't write more, but if you liked this, let me know so that I can write more.

Love~