Teddy studied The Door. Of all of the doors in Grimmauld Place, this door was, well – strange. The only person who ever went through it was Harry.
Teddy wanted to know why.
The Door looked ordinary. It was made of wood, had an ornate doorknob, swung on hinges. Teddy had heard it creak when Harry opened it, had seen light fall from the room it barred. It had rattled in its frame when he had pushed, vainly, hoping to pass through it.
But something about this door was different. He was convinced that The Door knew something. A secret. What it knew, he wasn't sure, but it knew and Harry knew and Teddy desperately, desperately wanted to know, too.
Startled, Teddy glanced down at James. "Wotcher."
"That's Dad's room." James grabbed the doorknob and swung back and forth, his feet braced against The Door. Teddy frowned; it didn't rattle at James' touch. "We can't ever, EVER, go in there, he says."
Teddy nodded. He knew, but he hoped that maybe, just maybe, Harry would make an exception for him. "Aren't you supposed to be watching Al?"
"Al's boring." James stopped swinging as a familiar gleam lit his eyes. "Make your hair go stripey, please?"
Teddy obliged, prompting a volley of shrill giggles from James. Finally snorting to a stop, James' face assumed an expression of extreme innocence. "D'you think you could lend me a Dungbomb?"
Teddy was immediately on guard. "As long as it's not for a prank inside."
James shook his head, red-brown hair flying in denial.
"Right." Teddy looked at The Door, suppressed a sigh and then gestured with his head. "C'mon."
Teddy bit his lip and glanced down the dinner table at Harry. His week with his godfather had flown by; it always did. He never got enough time with him, what with James and Al and now even Lily always around. In a couple of days, Harry would take him back to Grandmere, who would in turn take him to King's Cross station and see him off for another year at Hogwarts.
Another year before he could try to open The Door again. Another year before he could try to spend time with his godfather, alone. He knew that Harry's real kids had to come first, but it still hurt.
Harry was quiet, though Teddy didn't think that anyone noticed but him. Uncle George had stopped by earlier in the day, so James was armed with an array of pranks that he seemed determined to pull throughout the meal. Chaos reigned, giving Teddy ample cover to surreptitiously watch his godfather.
Harry was always quiet on the nights he went through The Door. Teddy ate his peas with an air of casual and unobtrusive politeness, careful to keep his eyes on his plate. If he were smart enough, maybe tonight would be his chance to follow Harry inside.
When they were excused from the table, Teddy mumbled his thanks and then slipped into the library, which offered the best spot from which to watch the corridor that led to The Door. He concentrated, and his skin and hair went dark to blend with his clothes.
Then he waited.
An hour later, Teddy heard James' shouts of, "just five more minutes, Mum, then I'll go to bed, I promise!" answered by Ginny's firm, "to bed now, young man," and Al's high piping, "I told you so!" fading in the direction of the children's bedrooms.
A few minutes later, he heard Harry's deep voice.
"Have you seen Teddy?"
"I think he went to his room after dinner," Ginny replied. "We're alone."
"I – not tonight, love." Harry's voice was gentle; it sounded sad.
There was a pause. Teddy strained to hear.
"Right. Well. You know where to find me." Ginny didn't sound happy. Teddy heard her climbing the stairs.
Then Harry passed the library door and Teddy forgot about everything but following him.
His godfather went directly to The Door. Teddy stumbled over a bit of carpet in his haste and muffled an automatic curse, but Harry didn't seem to hear him. Teddy breathed a sigh of relief and knelt in the shadows, watching.
Harry stared at The Door.
The Door opened a single red eye. Teddy stifled a gasp.
"What do you seek, Harry Potter?"
The Door's voice was so low that Teddy's bones shook with it. He shivered; it didn't seem to be a kind voice.
"The past." His godfather's voice was barely audible.
"Enter." The Door opened; Teddy again caught a glimpse of light, like dozens of candles, flickering. They seemed to fill his godfather's face with more shadows than light. Teddy inched closer, concentrating hard to blend into the concealing darkness at the end of the hall.
Harry straightened his shoulders and entered the room. The Door closed behind him.
Teddy crept up to The Door. He cleared his throat. "Er, hello?"
The Door's eye opened. Teddy gasped; it felt like The Door was in his mind, looking through his thoughts and memories, its touch cold and merciless. He tried to show it how much he needed to know what it hid.
"There will be a price."
The Door's voice stole Teddy's courage, but not his determination. "Wh…what?" His mouth felt dry.
Again, he felt a cold touch in his mind. A vision of his godfather rose in his thoughts: Harry, bright and laughing and proud of Teddy's first steps. Teddy remembered the moment so very clearly…
… The vision faded and disappeared.
Teddy shook his head in confusion. Wasn't he just thinking of something?
Oh, yeah. He shivered. He really wanted to see what was behind The Door. Maybe, if he promised not to be a bother, Harry would let him stay. Cautiously, he pushed The Door open and passed through.
Candles floated everywhere, drawing Teddy's eyes to an empty chair, a portrait, the blood-red carpet beneath his feet, a bed hung with crimson curtains and …
The Door closed behind him. The snick of its lock sounded like a knife being thrust into its sheath.
His godfather lay on the bed. He was naked, his body pale and glowing. Black hair crept from between dark, tight nipples to his stomach and trailed lower, until Teddy could see Harry's prick, red and angry, rising from black curls, gripped by his godfather's familiar hand, his wedding ring flaring gold on his finger.
Teddy swallowed; helpless, he felt his own prick stir at the sight. He looked away, but his eyes crept back despite himself. He could feel his face blazing: he knew he shouldn't look, but he couldn't look away, either.
"Teddy." Teddy met Harry's eyes and saw grief and panic and something that he didn't recognise, but that both scared and excited him. Harry drew the blankets over his lap. "Teddy, go –"
Teddy shook his head. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to barge in. I just wanted to be with you –" he tried to explain, but he was interrupted by another voice.
"Harry, it's okay."
Teddy and Harry looked at the portrait. An attractive man, young, with black hair, blue eyes and an air of reckless fun that reminded Teddy of James was looking at Harry. "He couldn't get in if he wasn't supposed to."
Harry swallowed and glanced at Teddy. "Sirius, it isn't right."
"Harry?" Teddy said, blushing, yet curious about the portrait's words. It seemed to know Harry very well. "What's going on?"
"It must be right," the portrait insisted. "He wouldn't be here, otherwise."
Harry seemed to falter. "He's so young –"
"You were younger," the portrait answered.
Teddy licked his lips. "I'm fourteen," he said. "I'm not a kid anymore."
Harry stared at him and seemed to come to a decision. "No. No, you're not."
"I just wanted to be with you," Teddy repeated. He bit his lip anxiously.
Harry took a deep breath and released it. "Yes."
"If you want me to go, I will." Teddy's eyes wandered back to the blanket covering Harry's groin even as he felt a new wave of heat flush his face.
"What do you think I was doing when you came in?"
Teddy fidgeted. "Um, well…" He glanced at the portrait, which grinned and waggled its eyebrows. "You were wanking," he blurted.
The portrait snorted. "And very nicely, I might add. He's spent time developing his technique. Though I taught him the basics. In this very room, in fact."
Teddy exchanged grins with the portrait. Feeling bolder, he turned to Harry. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but please, I want to stay," he said. "I never get to see you. If that's okay with you," he added quickly as Harry's face flushed and the strange look crossed it again.
"Let him, Harry," the portrait said. The mischievous air faded, and it looked at Teddy with grave eyes. "Harry doesn't have anyone of his own anymore, you see. I can't help him, since I'm, well, dead." The portrait's eyes were full of hidden meanings that Teddy only partially understood. "He needs you, even if he won't admit it."
"I want to help," Teddy said. He straightened and turned back to Harry, ignoring his embarrassment. "I – I don't have anyone of my own, either, so I know what it's like."
Harry shook his head. "Teddy, you don't know what I need. I don't want you to –"
"Harry," the portrait interrupted. "Remember when you were his age? I needed you. Then I left you behind, even though I didn't want to. You know you've been looking for someone else ever since. It's okay. It's just the way it is, sometimes."
"It's not right," Harry whispered. Teddy moved, but the portrait sent him a warning look, so he froze.
"Did it ever feel wrong? Ever?"
Harry glanced between Teddy and the portrait. Finally, he shook his head. "No."
"I need you, too," Teddy said, ignoring the portrait, not sure if Harry would think he was a child for admitting it.
Harry took a deep breath, threw back the blankets and then held his hand out to Teddy. "All right. Come here."
Teddy licked his lips again and nodded. He slowly crossed the room. Each step felt like a secret.
He took Harry's hand.
Harry tugged gently and Teddy crawled onto the bed. This close to Harry, Teddy could feel the heat that radiated from his godfather's body. Harry smelled of soap and sweat and something musky that made Teddy's prick harden further. He moved closer and sniffed.
Harry smiled. "I remember what it's like," he whispered. "The need." He pulled Teddy closer; Teddy followed, not quite sure what Harry was talking about but grateful for the offered comfort, his heart beating until the blood in his ears drowned any sound other than his godfather's voice. "I'll make it good for you, I promise," he heard. Harry let go of Teddy's hand and cupped Teddy's cheek, then leaned forward.
Without thinking, Teddy leaned forward, too.
Harry's mouth closed over his.
Teddy froze. Harry was kissing him. On the lips. He gasped, and Harry's tongue slipped into his mouth.
What now? Teddy thought wildly. His prick was rock-hard. Harry moved his mouth, making wet noises as he stroked Teddy's tongue with his own and ran a hand down Teddy's arm.
It felt good. Maybe that was what the portrait had been talking about. Feeling good like this.
Teddy made up his mind.
He moaned and pushed forward, loving the feel of Harry's lips, of Harry's arms as they circled him and drew him down until Teddy was draped across Harry's chest. He touched Harry's hot skin, brushing through the hair on Harry's chest. His prick was hard; he shamelessly ground it against Harry's hip.
"Not so fast," he felt more than heard Harry say, and whimpered as Harry pushed him away.
"Please," Teddy said, trying to recapture Harry's mouth.
"Shhhh." Teddy was pleased to note that Harry was breathing almost as hard as he was. "Arms up."
Teddy obediently raised his arms and Harry pulled his t-shirt up and off. Grinning, Teddy skinned out of his jeans and toed off his trainers. The twin thuds they made as they hit the floor ratcheted his excitement higher.
Harry grinned back at him. "Eager, I see."
Teddy nodded. "I want to touch you," he said, his grin turning shy.
"I'd like that," Harry said. "I want to touch you, too." He ran his hands around Teddy's chest, tweaking his nipples.
"Gonna come," Teddy gasped, even though nobody had touched his cock yet. He could feel his balls trying to climb up his prick in their eagerness to shoot. Harry slid a warm hand into his pants and did something to his bollocks, making Teddy yelp, but he didn't feel like he was going to come right away anymore. "Thanks."
"Take his pants off," the portrait directed.
"Shut up!" Harry and Teddy said together. Snorting with laughter, Teddy pulled his pants off and dropped them over the side of the bed.
"Come here," Harry said, his voice husky. Warm, rough hands grabbed Teddy's hips and pulled him forward. Harry was staring at his prick, so Teddy looked down, too. He hadn't often looked at his prick when he wanked, so he hoped the slim pink cock with its bed of soft hair wasn't disappointing. He was reassured when Harry slid a hand forward to cup his balls. His cock bobbed and Harry looked up at him.
Then, before Teddy realised what was going to happen, Harry sucked his prick into his mouth.
"Aaaah!" Teddy grabbed Harry's head and spurted into the wet heat, his hips pumping forward and his stomach hitting Harry in the nose. He whimpered as the muscles in Harry's mouth grabbed his prick tight each time Harry swallowed.
Pulling out and pitching forward, he gasped and panted while Harry rubbed soothing circles on his back.
"Yeah." He gulped. "That was brilliant!"
Harry laughed. "Up for more?"
Teddy could feel his cock begin to rise again. "Yeah."
"Let's try this, then." Harry pushed until Teddy obediently flopped over onto his back and wriggled until he was stretched out on the sheets under Harry. Harry lowered himself on top of Teddy, pushing against him in a gentle rhythm.
"Oh," Teddy said. The hair on Harry's chest scratched against his nipples; he could feel Harry's hard prick digging into the crease between his hip and his groin. He closed his eyes as Harry's hands ran down his body and slipped beneath him, cupping his arse. His skin felt slippery where Harry's prick rubbed him. "Oh," he repeated, helpless with pleasure.
Harry nuzzled his neck. "You smell good," he whispered. Teddy shivered as his godfather caught his earlobe with sharp teeth.
This close, Harry's breath sounded like the sea inside a seashell that Teddy had once held to his ear. It tickled. Harry licked him, his warm, wet tongue tracing the inner curves of Teddy's ear and adding another layer of delight until the pleasure nearly overwhelmed him. "More!" he demanded.
"Soon." Teddy opened his eyes to find his godfather looking down at him, the green of his eyes nearly swallowed by dark pupils. Teddy wet his lips and saw Harry's eyes dart down to watch his tongue. "Your mouth is beautiful," Harry said.
Teddy wished he could give Harry something, something as special as Harry was giving him. A thought occurred to him and he smiled.
Teddy glanced at the portrait and then concentrated hard. It was more difficult to look like someone else, but he'd practiced a few times. He felt amply rewarded by Harry's astonished glance.
"That was unexpected," the portrait said. "But hot." It looked pleased.
Harry drew away from Teddy. "Change back," he said.
"Don't you like him?" Teddy suddenly felt anxious. He was sure that he'd done a good job imitating the portrait. "It's just – you both sounded lonely before. I thought –"
Harry tried to smile, but it looked like it was hard for him to do. "I'm here with you, Teddy. Let's just keep it to the two of us, okay?"
"Right," Teddy said, relaxing his concentration until the portrait's face was gone. He felt like he could burst with happiness. Harry wanted him. Not because he looked like his dad or his mum or even the portrait. Not because he was a child to be looked after. He tried to mask his jubilation. "Sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."
"I know." Harry leaned forward and kissed his lips. "You didn't. It wouldn't have been right, though." The portrait sighed loudly and Harry rolled his eyes. Then he shared a secret grin with Teddy and the awkwardness disappeared.
Teddy relaxed as Harry began to kiss him again, growing bold enough to battle with Harry's tongue as their mouths pressed open and wet against each other. He loved the feel of Harry's hands on his arse and squirmed, wanting something more.
Harry murmured a spell into Teddy's mouth. He felt slickness against his arsehole a moment before Harry's finger slipped in, just a little way, but enough to make him gasp and push down hard. The finger slipped in farther, feeling dirty and exciting and good.
"Is that okay?"
Teddy nodded hard. "Brilliant. Do it some more, please." He pulled Harry's head back down to kiss him again.
Soon Teddy was moaning as Harry pushed his finger in and out of his arse, his hips trying to capture Harry's rhythm. His arsehole burned; he stopped moving as he realised that Harry had added another finger.
"We can stop," Harry said, going still.
Teddy shook his head. "I was just surprised, that's all," he lied. The fingers began to move again. It still burned, but knowing that Harry was touching him – feeling Harry's fingers move inside him, connecting them together down there – made it worth the small pain. It began to fade as Harry continued to kiss him. Soon Teddy was pushing back once again. "Oh. Oh."
"Turn over," Harry said, pulling his fingers out of Teddy's arse. "I want to make it even better."
Teddy eagerly complied, lying on his stomach. He felt chills run down his spine as Harry kissed his shoulder blades and pressed his fingers into Teddy's arsehole again. "You're so hot inside," Harry murmured. "Is this okay?"
"Yeah." The new angle made it seem like Harry's fingers were in him so deep they could wriggle right into his prick. "Harry," he begged, needing more.
Though he was a bit scared, he knew what he wanted. He wanted Harry to put his cock in him.
He remembered his friends snickering in hushed tones, saying 'fuck' and 'bugger'. They were so stupid. This wasn't anything to laugh at. He felt sweat drip from Harry's body onto his back and shivered with excitement.
"Shhhh," Harry said again. "Just a little longer." Teddy felt a third finger breach him, but since he knew it was coming, he pushed back against the burn, eager for the good feelings that he hoped would follow.
"Up on your knees." Harry steadied him with a hand on either side of Teddy's hips. He leaned forward until he was draped over Teddy's back. Teddy felt his godfather press a kiss to the back of his neck. "Let me know if this hurts too bad." Then something blunt and thick pressed against his arsehole and forced its way inside.
Teddy gritted his teeth to keep from crying out. "Feels good," he lied. He'd die before he'd make Harry feel bad.
"Relax," he heard Harry whisper. "It gets better, I promise. I'll take it slow."
Teddy nodded his head, glad that his godfather was behind him, where he couldn't see Teddy's tears. He wanted this, wanted Harry to know that Teddy was special, not like James or Al or Lily, not like a child. Teddy glanced at the portrait; the dark-haired man nodded, approval glinting in its painted eyes.
Harry pushed against him and Teddy rocked forward; Harry withdrew and his prick pulled Teddy's arse back.
Push forward. Pull back. Push forward. Pull back.
The next time Harry pushed, he hit something deep inside Teddy's arse. "Oh!" Teddy blurted in surprise.
"Thank Merlin," he heard Harry say. Harry pushed again, harder, and the feeling returned.
"More," Teddy said, the burn ignored in favour of the new feeling. "Harder."
Harry began to thrust into Teddy's arse, a rhythm that grew with each snap of his hips. Teddy grunted as he felt his godfather's bollocks slap against his, pushing back hard to ensure that Harry's prick sunk deep inside to hit the place that felt so good. He tried to brace himself as Harry's thrusts pushed him towards the headboard.
"Fuck," Harry panted.
Teddy could feel his prick jerk and twitch every time Harry hit the spot inside him, but he couldn't wank himself if he didn't want his head to hit the headboard. He keened in frustration. Harry seemed to understand; suddenly Teddy felt a warm, slippery hand wrap around his prick and begin to tug. "Yes! Please! Faster!" He tried to thrust into Harry's hand, but he was pinned too tight to move.
"You feel so good," Harry gasped. "So tight. Teddy…"
"Harder," Teddy demanded. His godfather obliged and the feeling in his arse and his prick built higher. "Oh! Oh! More!" His whole body tingled and pounded in time with his heart's wild beating. He braced himself harder, folding his arms over his head to cushion it as he was slammed into the headboard again and again. "F-fuck me!"
Harry moaned and pounded harder. "Come for me, Teddy," he heard, and he was there and oh please Merlin don't stop never stop fuck me Harry fuck me oh please fuck me oh Harry…he heard a groan and Harry was pressed against him, kissing his neck frantically and warmth was spreading through his arse as Harry pushed so hard–
Teddy felt the world slip away, the smell of sex filling his mouth and nose and heart even as he lost his struggle against the darkness.
He awoke to soft strokes across his forehead.
Teddy couldn't remember ever seeing his godfather look so unsure of himself. He nodded and stretched. "Can we do that again?"
Harry burst out laughing.
Teddy frowned. "No, really, I mean it. Can we do that again?"
"Not tonight, I'm afraid," Harry said, grinning and shaking his head.
Ignoring his cock's twinge of reviving interest with a great deal of difficulty, Teddy tried not to show his disappointment. Harry's rough heat dispelled much of it as his godfather pulled him close. Teddy pressed his face to Harry's chest and breathed deeply, relaxing as Harry's hands stroked him.
They lay together like that for a long time.
"We need to get dressed," Harry finally said, sighing.
Teddy sighed, too, and promised himself a good wank once he was in his own bed.
They dressed silently, handing each other bits of clothing as they scrounged around the room. Teddy looked around and reckoned they'd found it all as he tugged his trainers on.
He stood and moved towards the door, but Harry stopped him.
"The Door always asks for payment," Harry said. "This – between us – only exists here. Do you understand? Otherwise the price gets too high."
Teddy looked at The Door and considered. The sex with Harry had been brilliant; he knew he wanted more. Then he remembered The Door's touch and shivered. He nodded. "I understand."
Harry kissed him. "Come on. We need to go back to the others." He looked at the portrait. "Until next time, Sirius."
The portrait nodded. "Take care of yourself, Harry. You, too," it added, looking at Teddy.
"Ready?" Harry squeezed Teddy's hand.
The Door opened. Teddy craned his head for a last look at the room as Harry led him into the hall. The Door's cold presence washed over him, making him shiver. The portrait moved its hand, a sombre wave that disappeared as The Door closed.
"Time for bed," Harry said. He yawned.
Teddy yawned, too, suddenly exhausted. Bed would be good. He must have studied too hard while Harry was working.
Wait. He paused. Something felt odd; he glanced back at the door to Harry's study.
"Something wrong?" Harry sounded tired, or maybe sad.
Teddy could have sworn that there was something that he should remember, something to do with the door, with Harry, with feeling… but it slipped through his mind like sand. He frowned and shook his head. "No. Just tired. G'night."
Halfway up the stairs, Teddy paused and looked back.
His godfather hadn't moved. Instead, he was staring at the door, an expression of grief and loss lying like a shroud across his face.
Squinting, Teddy could almost swear that the door was looking back. There was something strange about it. Almost as if the door knew something.
Whatever it was, Teddy wanted to know, too. Desperately.