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The magically erected stadium on the outskirts of Rome was, honestly, not somewhere that Remus would have chosen for a long weekend getaway had it been up to him, but as it was, Teddy - who had just turned eight - had screamed with excitement at the proposal six months ago and had talked of little else since, so Remus shelved his own, more relaxed desires to humour his son. The son in question was currently still screaming, despite the game that had been the highlight of his daydreams for months only lasting forty-five minutes. It had taken longer to travel there, even with apparition, once you counted the waiting times and passport checks.
It was only off the back of a somewhat unexpected promotion at work (where Remus had been appointed head of Gryffindor house in a stunning turn of events that no one could have predicted, except everyone else on the staff team) that he had even entertained forking out for the tickets. By no means was he as poor as he had been in his younger years; the eighties had seen him frequently homeless, hopelessly underfed and miserably underemployed. Still, he didn't have the kind of money to be throwing at the European Quidditch Cup every time it came around. He was very aware that a simple change in the wind of politics could leave him back on the bones of his arse - and this time with a child accustomed to food and shelter to go along with - and so his saving habits could truthfully be regarded more as hoarding.
But Teddy was due to turn eight, and he deserved a treat, and the lad had never been abroad.
And he was obsessed with the England team seeker.
Potter this and Potter that for the last hundred dinners, it felt. Did you hear about the 40ft dive? Did you know he's been working with Nimbus to develop a seeker-specific racing broom? His wife used to play for the Holyhead Harpies - did you know that, Dad? Isn't that cool, Dad? She writes the Prophet sport column now, Dad? Isn't that so romantic?
He'd said what do you know about 'so romantic' and insisted that he finish his peas.
Despite having any of his vague interest in the topic be utterly exhausted months before stepping into the international apparition office by Teddy's constant fun facts, he couldn't deny that the beaming grin on his round face was an absolute highlight.
Worth chasing those blighters back to bed twice per week at all hours of the night during the school term. Worth writing letters of concern to parents, and worth sitting with sobbing breakup victims in his office. Teddy thought he'd brought him the sun, moon and stars.
"Did you see-"
"Ted, I was standing right next to you-"
"YES, but did you see the way he just-" Teddy jabbed his hand through the air like a bullet, "just zipped through that defence, he's a madman, totally fearless! Did you see, even Willems, he didn't dare try that blind turn but Potter just-"
The crowd briefly separated them as they were funnelled out onto the winding, temporarily erected corridor out away from the pitch. It was only the obscene shade of pillar-box red that Teddy had turned his hair to that kept him in sight. Remus slipped a long arm through the crowd and pulled him back to his side through the mass of bodies, casting apologetic looks at the people he pushed past.
"Ted, let's just get out of here before we do a match debrief, alright? If I lose you in this, it's going to send me spare."
Bodies pressed in on all sides, and Remus gripped the shoulder of Teddy's robes in a tight fist. They were a bit thin, now, having been stretched to accommodate his rapid growth spurts. They were the 'official' home kit for the England team from three years ago. Teddy was obedient, sobered by the threat of being lost in such a huge crowd, and allowed himself to be tucked in close to his dad. In one hand, he still clutched the homemade banner that he'd had Remus sticky charm to the safety rail of the stands in front of their seats.
The tunnel opened into dazzling daylight, as well as a wall of different noise. Not the claustrophobic chanting and chatter of the passageway, where the excited talk had echoed around the low ceiling and bare walls. This was something of a festival - a wide, open green that had been filled with a couple of small stages, a plethora of food trucks, enough bars to be getting on with and a smattering of picnic tables that were all somehow already taken, despite the match having finished less than five minutes ago.
"Oh my God, Dad, they've got a meet the team, look-" Teddy took Remus' arm and used it to point over to the right, over the heads of the dispersing crowd as they were freed from the bottleneck.
Sure enough, a healthy queue had developed, snaking past a bar selling an array of muggle Belgian beers and a hotdog stand, for fans to take photos with and talk to the players.
They were being shunted forwards, and Remus allowed it, pleased for the dry Summer heat after the sweaty air of the magically-contained stadium. He took Teddy's free hand instead of his robes, and let himself be tugged around the green, less interested in what the vendors had to offer, more in watching Teddy's excitement at it all.
"Can I get a figure of Potter? Actually, no, can I get a figure of Willem? Wait- no, can I get both, but I'll get the smaller ones…"
The pair of them walked around and around, Teddy pouring over each stall, trying to weigh up his options of what he could and couldn't get. Remus tried not to interfere. It seemed that he had come to the correct assumption on his own that he would not be getting everything his heard desired - birthday or not. Hopefully Teddy would settle on a couple of things that didn't make his eyes water.
They had circled back around to the figurines - the kind that flew around above their little grassy stand.
"Is this what you want, then?" Remus prompted, patting his pocket for his wallet. "The Potter one-"
"Ah, Dad- can I please…" Teddy's gaze trailed off to the line not far away. "Can we go and meet the team, actually?"
He'd glanced at the sign on the way past, suspecting Teddy would ask again. Eight galleons to meet the team and get a photo. It was steep, but he supposed they weren't taking the absolute piss. They could have certainly charged more.
"If that's what you want."
He had not even finished speaking before Teddy grabbed onto his jumper in tight-fisted delight. As soon as it was clear the answer was affirmative, he was giddy.
"And the figures?"
His pause was automatic - his usual proclivity to choose one or the other, but to never have both. Teddy's eyes were huge, hazel and pleading. Remus briefly wondered if Teddy knew he was reflecting his own eye colour back at him.
"Oh, go on then. Why not?"
He was hugged - vice tight - around the middle, and his breath was squeezed from him by the force of his son's long arms. "Love you!" Muffled, as Teddy's face was pressed into his chest, but still, he heard.
"You love getting your own way," Remus said dryly, but patted a fond hand on Teddy's back all the same. When Teddy surfaced, his cheeks were almost as red as his hair with excitement.
"I love both," he said, cheeky smile on full display.
The figures were purchased, along with some last minute additions (a pin badge that flickered between the two opposing badges, the Euro Cup logo and the final score and a book of player profiles for the England team) that ended up in Teddy's eager hands with a combination of pushy sales tactics, Ted's Big Sad Eyes, and Remus' chronic conflict avoidance. Teddy was flicking through the profiles as they made to join the winding line to meet the team, and excitedly pointing out Potter to Remus, as though he'd not just seen the man win the match not half an hour earlier.
"Can we get food?" Already they were sandwiched in the queue, a good twenty people behind them.
"We'll lose our place - and we had pizza before we even went in-"
"That was hours ago."
It was two hours ago, at most, but Remus wasn't in the mood to argue. There was a hotdog stand within eye-line of their spot in the line, and it didn't seem terribly busy. He pointed it out to Teddy, who nodded enthusiastically.
"Do not move from this line, you hear me?" He whipped out his teacher's voice for the occasion, pointing firmly at the grass below Teddy's feet. "You stay right here, where I can see you. I will be five minutes, if that."
"I promise!" Teddy sounded indignant and Remus assumed it was more at the implication that he would jeopardise his place in line, rather than the implication he would disobey a command. "Look, I'm bright red."
Remus glanced to the red hair - telephone-box red, not ginger. England team red. It was true - it'd be hard to lose him in a crowd.
"Alright. See you shortly."
Remus left Teddy behind and pushed through the shifting crowd to the food stalls - honestly his stomach was turning at the smell of hot dogs, but Teddy would eat anything and, realistically, it was the best deal when feeding an indiscriminate eight-year-old. Teddy would scran a foot-long tube of mystery meat and bread, and he would be free from complaints for another few hours. A fair deal, all in all.
He glanced over his shoulder, but the little head of bright red hair was exactly where he'd left him - easy enough to catch a glimpse of whenever the crowd briefly parted enough for him to see through.
"Right, Sir?"
He turned to make his order.
"Why would you get me an IPA - do you hate me?"
James' face split into his characteristic easy laugh - it didn't take much to draw it out. He raised the cup full of the tell-tale cloudy amber - condensation blooming over the plastic.
"I thought you'd like to try a local brew. The bloke at the bar was talking me through-"
"Oh, you would fall for all that wank, too." Sirius rolled his eyes and took the plastic pint glass from James, giving it a cautionary sniff.
"Smells like lychee. They always smell like bloody lychee…"
He gave it the barest sip, just enough to wet his lips. It was rank, obviously.
"Well, congratulations - you got yourself two beers."
James took it back, sipping his own and squinting out over the gathered crowd through his thick glasses which were rendered near useless in the blinding sunlight. "Ginny might drink it. She said she'd be able to escape the press tent by two. They should be back soon - it's already five-past."
There was no sign of the two blazing redheads in the crowd - and they were hard to miss - but Sirius' eyes caught a different shade of red, just behind James.
A child - certainly not old enough for Hogwarts - with dyed stop-sign-red hair, allowing himself to be buffeted this way and that in the ebb and flow of the crowd. He was turned around and tear-streaked - mouth obviously wobbly.
"Do you see them?" James had turned to follow his gaze and caught sight of the child. "Oh, reckon he's lost?"
Sirius, who didn't have two pints of nasty, hipster beer rendering his hands useless, took it upon himself to stride over and pull the little boy from the whirlpool-like cross-stream of the crowd of bodies and over to the breathing space of the wooden picnic table he and James had commandeered early on by the sleeve of his replica quidditch robes.
The boy tugged uselessly, pulling his arm away from Sirius' grip, but walking along with him. Apparently unable to decide if he wanted to run or go along.
"Nice hair," said James, offering him a winning smile. The boy looked again at his grinning face and broke into renewed tears.
"Stop it, James, you're frightening him. Put your teeth away- hey, little man, where are you supposed to be?"
The kid was gross. Sirius honestly regretted touching him, now that he was close enough to inspect. There was a disgusting mixture of snot and tears running down from his nose to the collar of his robes, and the right sleeve had a suspicious snail-trail along from the cuff to the forearm.
"Where's your mum, ey?"
"My da!" He wailed, and a few people nearby turned their heads curiously, but no one who might've been "da" stepped forward. Sirius cringed away from the crying, but watched in mixed horror and awe as James set their beers down and wiped at the child's face with a napkin.
"We'll find your da, come on-" Sirius got to his feet, pointedly ignoring the clicking in his knees. He didn't know how James could be bothered with getting down on the floor with his grandkids, never mind wiping the snotty nose of a stranger's offspring. Even so, the boy reached for his hand and it seemed cruel to rebuff him, so he took it - hoping it wasn't the one he'd been using to wipe his nose.
"Press tent's our best bet, I reckon," said James, gesturing over the heads of the crowd. "What's your name, anyway?"
The boy shied away from James' attention again, and Sirius was honestly baffled as to why, between the two of them, he was more comfortable with him. Leather jacket, neck and chest tattoos, and resting-bitch-face (and Ginny oft accused him) didn't exactly endear him. Especially when compared to James' bouncy hair, gait and personality.
"Teddy." The boy - Teddy - said it so quietly that the word was almost swept up by the crowd.
"Alright then, Teddy." James clapped a hand on his shoulder and took a long drink from his plastic pint - evidently planning to abandon what was left of it. "I'm James, and that's Sirius. We'll take you over to the press tents, and they'll probably put an announcement out for your dad, and all's well that ends well, ey?"
Teddy sniffed, looking particularly tragic, and walked alongside Sirius, hand in hand. They squeezed through the crowds, careful not to lose each other, and keeping a look of our the pair of redheads as they went. The press tent was on the other side of the stadium exit and was adjacent to the information booth, portkey point and first aid tent. They were all covered by a high marquee which was held in place not with poles, but with magic, providing some shade from the midsummer sun.
"Where did you last see your dad? Do you remember?"
Teddy glanced around, eyes roving across the signs and stalls. He pointed off to their left, not far from the stadium exit, where a long queue was cutting across the thoroughfare quite inconveniently.
"I was in the line. He went to get food."
"Oh! Waiting to meet the team?" James asked, looking far too smug for Sirius' liking. It wasn't as though he was the winning seeker of the match, after all. "The line must have doubled by now - you shouldn't have lost your place!"
Teddy's face fell again and Sirius shot James a withering look.
"I know!" He wailed. "But I thought I saw-" he dragged his free hand across his face and dried his eyes. "I thought I saw one of the players…"
Oh. That was what had brought the miserable little boy to the edge of their clearing.
"Thought you saw Potter, did you?" Sirius asked, swinging Teddy's arm playfully in a vain attempt to cheer him up. "Well, you weren't far off!"
James crouched over so Teddy could see him better, putting himself at risk of getting jabbed in the head by strangers' elbows. "I'm his dad!"
Teddy's strange hesitance of James melted away at jarring speed. His hazel eyes were round as saucers and his jaw hung open in awe.
"No way!"
"We look alike, ey?"
"Actually-" Sirius cut in before James allowed this revelation to turn into a bragging hour about the talents of his only son. "We're nearly here now, but we need to know what your dad looks like. They'll put out an announcement, but he needs to match a description-"
"Oh, that's easy- wait." Teddy relinquished Sirius' hand so he could slip out of the crowd lingering outside of the press tent and towards a more open space under the cover of the shade of the marquee. There was a small rickety table covered in maps of the stalls outside, and a bored looking wizard in neon orange robes who was part of the event management. Once he'd apparently deemed Sirius close enough, he took a huge gulp of air and held his breath. Sirius wasn't sure if he was trying to squeeze out a fart, or turn his cheeks as red as his hair, but as he opened his mouth to object, Teddy's hair became lighter, starting at the root, and developed a slight sweat-induced curl at the back of his neck and by his ears. His nose grew more prominent, and his front teeth longer. It made him look a bit like a goblin - his features too big for his little face - but he wasn't done.
Before he went completely cross-eyed in concentration, he took another huge gulp and finished the job. It was still an alarming sight - the head of what must have been a near fifty year old man on the shoulders of a primary schooler, but it was effective none the less.
"Cool trick," James said, as though the kid hadn't just morphed into his father in front of them.
"Yeah, it's pretty cool," Teddy agreed. His little voice coming out of his father's mouth made Sirius' skin crawl.
The man in neon robes must have watched the whole performance, because he did not look appropriately shocked at seeing a man's head on a child's body when he interrupted the group.
"Need any help?"
"Yes, actually. We've got a lost kid here, this is Teddy."
Teddy waved shyly at the stranger and stepped closer to Sirius, tucking himself half behind his robes.
"Who is, apparently, a metamorphagus," James added, still looking bewildered at their little show.
"He's lost his dad. Who looks like this-" he gestured to Teddy, "though I imagine he's a touch taller."
This earned a small snort of a laugh from the boy and Sirius couldn't help but smile.
"Right, not to worry, lad - your dad won't have gone far. We've a little place behind first aid where you can wait away from the crowd while we find him for you."
"Can James and Sirius come?"
The security member shrugged and tilted his head questioningly at the two of them. "If they'd like."
"Might as well see the whole matter though," Sirius said, thinking he was quite interested in seeing what Teddy's dad looked like when he wasn't some Frankenstein's monster of child and man. "You can meet the girls if you want, James. Don't feel like you have to hang around."
James dithered on the decision for a little, before deciding that he would, in fact, go and hunt for Ginny and Lily, leaning over to whisper into Sirius' ear so Teddy couldn't hear see if we can get Harry to do one extra meetup once he's found his dad before he left.
Judging by Teddy's "No. 7" robes and the fact he had followed a vaguely-Harry-looking stranger into the crowd, this would be the surprise of his life, so he kept his lips sealed and followed behind the security wizard to a small table with a few sandwiches, a jug of water and a couple of chairs behind the first aid tent, where a witch was audibly whinging about an anti-stealing charm that had stuck all the fingers on her right hand to each other.
Sirius collapsed on one of the chairs, wilting in his robes in the heat and very glad for the shade and water. He had no idea how Harry had been happy to fly in the heat in that getup. Teddy shook his head and his own features reappeared on his face before he joined Sirius on a chair and sighed like a middle-aged man. Sirius snorted.
"Long day?"
"Dad's gonna be so mad at me," he pouted, swinging his legs. "He said stay where I can see you."
"Rather say you've learned your lesson then."
This did not seem to cheer the boy up at all, so he tried another tactic.
"Look, he'll be too relieved to be mad, I imagine. James once lost Harry in Diagon Alley and the whole time we were looking for him, he kept talking about how he was grounded for a year, but then as soon as he found him, he cried like a baby."
Teddy shot him a searching look, trying to decide if Sirius had made up the story to make himself feel better, or if it had really happened.
"Yeah, well. Mine won't."
"Not the type?"
The odd man-child image that Sirius had of Teddy's dad didn't seem like someone particularly concerned with projecting their masculinity, but looks could be deceiving.
"He'll just be mad. I was being annoying, anyway." Teddy dug in his pocket and pulled out two tiny men in quidditch robes. One Sirius recognised as - to be fair - an impressive likeness of Harry and the other he believed to be the opposing seeker. "He said pick two things, but I ended up with loads of things, then he let me meet the team, then I said I wanted food, and then I didn't do what he told me, so he's going to be-"
The voice of a hysterical man interrupted Teddy's melancholic prediction and the two of their heads snapped up at the noise.
"If you can just give us a description-"
"I told you, last I saw him, he had red hair, but he could look like anything by now-"
"You can't come back here until we confirm-"
Sirius turned to Teddy, eyebrow raised. "Can't be many dads of lost metamorphmaguses around here, kid."
"Yeah, that's him."
Teddy slipped off his chair but rather than running past the partition to get a look at his dad, he took Sirius' hand and tugged him along with him. They poked their heads around together.
Honestly, Teddy had done an impressive job of replicating him - he was immediately recognisable to Sirius, despite the head in question now being a good bit further off the ground. Still, he was much more normal when not attached to the bony shoulders of a kid who couldn't be even Hogwarts age yet.
He was quite tall - as tall as Sirius, at least, with the expected head of greying, mousey hair and sharp nose. His hair was sweaty at the neck, likely from a combination of stress and hot weather (was he wearing a jumper? In this heat?) and in his hands he held an absurdly large plastic cup of something and an enormous hotdog.
He was quite handsome, Sirius thought absently. A vision in wool and panicked sweat, even with splotchy cheeks and red eyes.
"Told you he'd cry," he said to Teddy, smugly.
Teddy's dad must have heard them, because he whirled around and a few drops of mystery liquid spilled from the cup in his hand.
"Ted!?"
The man opened his arms out for his son and, to the fruitless objection of the security wizard, Teddy launched himself at him.
Predicting the disaster as soon as he'd seen the other man turn around, Sirius flicked his wand and suspended the drink and hotdog in midair before they both splattered on the floor.
"Mister Lupin," the security wizard said, pointlessly. "Please…"
Teddy's dad - Mister Lupin - was on his knees on the floor with two armfuls of his son. Teddy was gripping his jumper with the intensity of a baby monkey and Sirius definitely saw him wipe a few tears in his kid's ridiculously red hair.
It was only after the security wizard was convinced that Teddy hadn't just ran and hugged a random man that he had the chance to speak to Mister Lupin. He was wiping at Teddy's face with the flat of his hand (something Sirius would rather lick a slug than do, personally) and groaning as he got to his feet when Sirius stepped forward and took the food out of it's midair suspension.
"You still want these?"
"Oh. Thank you…"
Lupin's head snapped up to greet him - had he really not seen him this whole time? His eyes were the same light hazel as Teddy's, and very round. He looked at Sirius with such a sudden intensity that he felt his own cheeks grow hot. He couldn't help but watch his mouth as he spoke - was that a scar, cutting across his lip?
"That's Sirius," Teddy said. "And this is my dad."
"Obviously." Sirius handed the hotdog to Teddy. "I believe you said this was yours?"
Teddy glanced at his dad to confirm, before taking it from Sirius and holding it awkwardly.
"My name is Remus, not "Dad", believe it or not," Remus said, holding out a hand to Sirius. "Take it you found Teddy? Thank you."
Sirius shook his hand. It was sweaty, but he couldn't complain - the day was baking. "Yeah, he found us, really. Thought he saw the England seeker and ended up by me and James."
"James?"
Sirius laughed. "Potter. Harry's dad."
Remus cast a disbelieving look at Teddy. "I thought I told you to stay put? You just wandered after some random man-"
"Not some random man," Teddy objected. "Harry Potter's dad."
Remus rolled his eyes for Sirius' benefit and took a swig of the drink he'd bought before twisting his face. "I'm going to need something stronger than that after this mess." His dry tone had the corner of Sirius' mouth twitching, and he found himself following behind the duo as they made their way out of the cover of the marquee. "I suppose I owe you a drink too, Sirius?"
A few feet away, visible in the milling crowd by the two heads of bright orange hair shimmering in the sunlight, was James, Harry (back in his normal clothes), Ginny and Lily. Before them floated several plastic pint glasses of suspiciously cloudy amber liquid and several hotdogs of their own.
"There's an IPA with my name on it that you can have," he said, then pointed over at Harry and James for Remus' benefit. "And you might as well stay for a couple. Harry wants to meet his fanboy - not that he needs a bigger head."
Teddy clutched the sleeve of Remus' jumper in a white-knuckle grip that had a surprising slither of fondness settling in Sirius' chest. He'd better not be getting attached to this wet-nosed child.
"Dad- oh my God, Dad it's Harry-"
"I know it's Harry Potter, I can see him," Remus assured in a much more measured tone. "Perhaps don't scream his name, so he doesn't get mobbed by the crowd, Ted?"
Teddy skipped in front of Remus, his father's warning sliding off him as though he were waterproof to negativity, dancing from foot to foot as if he hadn't been crying less then ten minutes ago. "Dad, can I go and see-"
Remus sighed. "Stay were I can see you-"
He was off, running full pelt between the bodies passing them on their way to the information booth, skidding to a halt in front of Harry.
"Well, I suppose I'm with your lot for the foreseeable, if that's alright?"
Remus cast him a remarkably pleasant smile, squinting in the sunlight and showing off a smattering of freckles Sirius hadn't noticed in the shade of the marquee.
As much as he didn't mind the company of the red-haired boy, he'd much rather become attached to his flustered, freckle-faced father, instead.
