Hello fellow Potter-heads! This is just a short one-shot that popped into my head and nagged me until I had written it. Enjoy!

He was always asked about his Father; told how alike they were, what traits they shared. People always made comparisons, he supposed it was their natural response to his situation. He was extraordinarily proud of his Father. For his actions during the war, for his nobility and courage.

But it was also a foreign thing to him, being asked about a man he never knew. While he had always been told the stories, the legend of his father, he had only known him for a matter of weeks which he couldn't even remember. He felt guilty but it was the harsh truth; he didn't know his father. He had long ago made peace with the fact, after all, there was nothing he could do change it. So when asked about his Father, he never knew what to say.

However, if you ever asked him about his Dad, he could go on for hours. What his Dad's favourite food was, his favourite quidditch team, his personality, stories from his childhood. He worshipped him. Even now at the age of 22, he was still his hero.

He was the man that had raised him when he didn't have to- had taken him in as one of his own. Had fed him, bathed him, played with him and tucked him into bed at night. He had always been there with kisses and cuddles, giving as much affection as he could.

He had a great deal of respect for him. It could have been so easy to walk away from the responsibility, but he hadn't. Even though he was only seventeen years old and had just fought in and survived a horrific war, he made no objections. Like most things in life, his Dad had accepted the responsibility without question and stood up to the task. And because of this he had been blessed with a happy childhood.

People always assumed that losing his parents as a baby meant that his childhood had been full of sadness. Make no mistake, it saddened him greatly that he never had the chance to properly meet them, how they were not a part of his life. But the truth was that his childhood had been brilliant. Sure, there were times he had ached from the pain of not having his parents with him, there were times he was angered. But as he grew up he accepted it. And he had a pretty amazing man who understood every feeling that consumed him. The anger, the hurt, the unfairness.

He had a lot in common with his Dad in that respect; they had both been orphaned as babies. But the loss of both parents at a young age was where the childhood similarities ended. He had been raised in a happy environment. His childhood memories were full of laughter, hugs and kisses, love and joy. All because his Dad had made sure, with every fibre of his being, that he would have the best life he could give him. He knew that growing up his Dad had none of this. And he would be forever grateful to him for not letting him have the same fate. He was lucky. He had thanked his parents on many occasions for choosing the next best person, second only to them, to help raise him.

Sometimes he had felt that he was betraying his Father. Would he think that he had replaced him? Would he be angry about how he felt, how he thought? He liked to think that his Father would be happy that he was happy, that he had someone there for him growing up, that he wasn't alone. That he was part of a great family. After all, his Father had personally chosen that family for him. And for that he would be eternally grateful.

Maybe he was dumbing down a complicated situation but to Teddy Lupin it was quite simple; ask him who his Father was and he would answer with pride: "Remus Lupin."

Ask him who his Dad was and he would smile and say "Harry Potter."

Hope you enjoyed my idea of Teddy's reflections! It made sense in my head so hopefully it did to you to! Hated or loved it? Review and let my know your thoughts :)