Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Obviously. Otherwise Remus and Tonks never would have died. Jo Rowling is god of Teddy's world, and we all know how foolish it would be to try to thieve from god.

Well, as you can probably assume, I was none too happy about some of the character deaths in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. It's not like I want to see my favorite characters die, but it happens so often that I've learned to shrug it off a bit. Not when said favorite characters are newly married and have a less-than-one-year-old son who needs them.

Thus, I love Teddy. And Andromeda. So the plot bunny attacked, sunk its jagged teeth into my leg, and wouldn't let go until I wrote this.

Edit: Changed one of Teddy's lines - because, apparently, the only three year old I've ever had contact with was a tad bit violent.

Little Boy Logic

By Elizabeth Odessky

Teddy Lupin hiccupped. Now, while not abnormal for a child of five years old to hiccup, what was unnervingly atypical was the scrunched face he would make and the accompanying change in hairstyle. For the moment, Teddy was sporting a short, rainbow colored bowl cut. He sent his grandmother a toothy grin before hiccupping again, this time to appear with a muggle style mullet in a bright green color that reminded his current company of the business end of a puking pastille.

Andromeda Tonks gave an exasperated sigh and sank further into her sofa, as if she were trying to persuade it to swallow her. Raising one metamorphmagus was enough hassle for a lifetime, but two? The boy hiccupped again and Andromeda looked away, as if the new, garish hue of his hair might sear her corneas. At least he hadn't learned to change his facial features yet; she was having trouble enough explaining to the neighbors precisely why her only grandson would wander into the garden shed with one hair color and emerge, moments later, with an entirely different tint.

Boyish giggling pulled her from her reminiscing as Teddy poked his head over the arm of the couch. She actually groaned out loud—the boy's last fit of hiccupping had left him with a spiky, pink pixie cut that reminded Andromeda too acutely of Teddy's late mother. Her sudden spike in emotion must have shown on her face, for Teddy ducked back below the edge of the arm and waited until he hiccupped again to reappear.

"Did I do something bad, grandma?" He looked at her apprehensively, as if she were going to rage at him at the drop of a pin. Despite the lingering sting of his last appearance, she smiled warmly at him and ruffled his now wavy, blonde hair.

"No, sir," she said with mocking formality. "Let's get you some tonic for those hiccups, shall we?" He nodded and grinned at her, even as he hiccupped again. Andromeda rolled her eyes and rose to walk towards the kitchen, extending a hand towards her grandson who quickly grasped her wrist and obediently followed.

Teddy was trying his best to be good, even though he thought that the tonic was absolutely horrible and wanted nothing to do with it. But when his grandmother got sad, she often lapsed into crying spells that would last for days until his great aunt Cissy calmed her down. No matter what he did during that time—from giving her hugs to getting his uncle Harry to send her flowers—Andromeda would simply look at him and continue crying. With his little boy logic, Teddy had assumed that it was he that made her sad, and thus vanished into his room for days on end while his grandmother sobbed alone in the sitting room.

His aunt Hermione had tried to explain to Teddy why his grandmother was so sad in what she felt was terms comprehensible by the three year old:

"Teddy, you have to understand. She was your mommy's mommy, and when your mommy died, your grandmommy got very sad," Hermione tried to explain as she absentmindedly twirled the drawstring of her jacket around her forefinger.

Teddy's face lit up with excitement. "But we can find mommy, and bring her back here to live with us. Then grandmommy will be happy again." He obviously didn't quite grasp the concept of death.

"It's not that simple, Teddy."

"Why? Why can't you find mommy? Why can't uncle Harry? Or uncle Ron?" he blurted, confused.

"I-we…we can't, Teddy," Hermione stuttered, at a loss for words and not liking it one bit.

"But WHY?"

"Because your mommy isn't coming back!" she bit her lip in an effort not to join the little boy she was accompanying in his tears. "I'm sorry, Teddy. I want her to come back too, but it's not that simple."

"Like daddy. And granddaddy." Hermione nodded. "But why would someone want to hurt my mommy? Grandmommy said she was nice, she said that she wasn't a bad person."

"Your mommy wasn't a bad person, sh-" Hermione tried to explain, but Teddy cut her off.

"Then why did she go away?" he practically yelled before returning to sobbing. Startled and once again at a loss as to what to do, Hermione walked over to the three year old, knelt down to his level, and pulled him into an embrace.

"She didn't want to go away. She loved you and your daddy and your grandmommy very much, but a very bad lady didn't like her, and the bad lady hurt her very bad. What makes your grandmommy so sad isn't you, it's the bad lady."

Teddy pushed Hermione away, staring up at her defiantly. "Who was the bad lady?"

Hermione grimaced—surely he was much too young for such knowledge—but the look in his eyes convinced her otherwise. "A very mean and bad lady named Bellatrix Lestrange."

"Then I'm going to hurt her."

"Teddy, you don't mean that."

"Yes I do. She hurt my mommy and my grandmommy, so I'll hurt her."

"She's already dead, Teddy. Your great auntie Molly made her stop hurting people."

"Good."

"I agree. Now, how about some Pumpkin Pasties?" she grabbed Teddy's hand, ignored his protests, and practically drug him into the kitchen where Narcissa was waiting with his grandmother.

"Now, be a good boy and swallow this." Andromeda sent a disapproving glare at Teddy and he immediately opened his mouth wide enough to allow the tonic filled spoon access. The stuff tasted horrid, like week-old pumpkin juice, but he obligingly swallowed the concoction and stared at his grandmother impassively.

"Very good, Teddy," she commented, as she watched his hair return to its normal style. He had inherited his father's pale skin and intelligent eyes, but his mother's Black family hair—straight and easy to manage. Not that it remained that way, if Teddy had anything to do about it. He constantly bemoaned his grandmother about how dull his hairstyle was and how a bright colored mohawk was sure to earn him attention from Victoire, one of his godfather's nieces.

Just like his mother, he was a bit awkward and clumsy and forever relying on his flashy hair and ridiculous stunts to attract attention. Only the previous week she had received an urgent owl from the Potters, informing her that Teddy had leapt off their second story balcony in an attempt to impress his sick aunt Ginny with his gallantry and had broken his arm. The injury, tended to expertly by Harry, however did nothing but bruise his ego for a few days. After that, it was as dust in the wind.

"Back to normal, then? Off to bed with you. I'll be there in a moment to tuck you in." Teddy gave Andromeda an unexpected hug and dashed quickly from the room, up the stairs, and around the corner. Andromeda sighed and sank, relieved, into one of the kitchen chairs. He was so much like Dora, and he didn't even know it. Though, she was sure that she would see some of his father in Teddy if she had bother to get to know Remus at all.

Guiltily, she climbed the stairs to what had been her daughter's old room, much like she had done for years when Dora had lived here. Teddy had already brushed his teeth and changed into his pajamas, and was currently searching his bookshelf for a bedtime story. Upon finding a volume he deemed suitable, he carried the book over to Andromeda and then snuggled underneath his bed linens, looking at her expectantly.

Andromeda turned the weathered tome over in her hands to stare at the title—The Tales of Beedle the Bard. The old children's book had been given to her by Bellatrix, decades ago for her fifth birthday. Ignoring the pain that always came when thinking of her sister, Andromeda opened the book and started at the top of a passage. After ten minutes of reading, Andromeda looked up at Teddy. The boy was slumbering peacefully, his small hand clutching what seemed to be a picture frame, half concealed underneath his pillow.

Curious, she pulled the photograph out of the boy's grasp to look at it. Her breath caught in her throat—Nymphadora, her Nymphadora, her little girl turned grown woman, grinned roguishly out of the picture at her. It was obviously quite cold, as she was sporting a cap that hid most of her bright pink hair and her cheeks and the tip of her nose were tinted red. Standing next to, and with an arm wrapped casually around her, was Remus Lupin. The man looked equally ecstatic for being with her daughter and irritated for being in the cold. He had a shabby, thin looking jacket on and his neck was wrapped with a scarf in faded Gryffindor colors, obviously leftover from his school days.

As Andromeda watched, Dora leaned over to kiss Remus lightly on the cheek. The kiss, no doubt, was to distract him from the snowball she had sent flying at him with her wand. After a few disgruntled moments, Remus sent Dora a mischievous smile and proceeded to send snowball after snowball at her. Minutes later, having run out of both energy and snow in their vicinity, they came together for another kiss and then turned to stare out of the frame once more, wearing matching grins.

They, however, had no idea that their grins were being reflected by Andromeda's own, finally comfortable with what had become of her daughter. Dora had found love, lived for it, and had died a hero for it. Andromeda gazed at Teddy, blissfully ignorant, under the power of dreams to which there were no limits. He had understood the unfathomable for someone his age. Something that even she had found impossible to accept until the moment she had discovered the boy's tiny, impromptu shrine to his parents.

Tears running down her cheeks, Andromeda placed the photograph on Teddy's side table, at which his parent's gazes shifted from her to him, as if watching over him from the beyond. The though made Andromeda even more determined to raise their son, her grandson, to be a man his parents would have been proud of. Tucking Teddy's sheets more securely around him, she turned to leave the room, glancing back only once to gaze at her blissful grandson as she flicked the light switch off. Trying the best not to make a sound, Andromeda closed the door to his room softly, having finally found acceptance.

Even so, Andromeda couldn't help but think back fifteen years, to the last time Nymphadora had permitted her to tuck her in for the night. She was as sure now that nothing could hurt her beloved daughter as the last time she had tucked her in—the though brought some comfort. Acceptance didn't stop all the hurt, but it was a start. Thanks to little boy logic.

FIN

Thanks for reading! And if you don't mind, review?

-Liz