Imagine Teddy pouring over Harry's old pictures of his parents night after night as a child. Spending hours trying to prefect the same light brown hair with grey flecks in it to match Remus'. Then struggling to get his eyes the same shape and color of his mother Tonks.
Imagine Teddy finally perfecting it and transforming into them every birthday in the mirror and saying "Happy birthday, son" because that's the only way he'll ever hear them say it.
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Only Potterheads Understand
AléatoireFeels warning. I'm a destroyer of them. You've been warned.
