Harry James Potter, savior of the wizarding world, could say for sure that one being could possibly beat him. His godson, Teddy Lupin.

His hair was more wild than normal and his glasses were askew as the seventeen year old attempted to change the baby’s nappy. For some reason, the four month old had been crying ceaselessly for hours on end. Harry had been woken from the first peaceful sleep he’d had in month by Teddy’s screaming.

He’d tried rocking him, feeding him, and even singing to him—the latter of which just made him cry harder. Harry was at a loss. Finally, he resigned himself to changing the nappy. Maybe it was dirty?

But when he unwrapped the cloth and checked it, the damned thing was perfectly clean. Harry was about to put it back on, when Teddy decided to let go. He groaned as his night shirt and pants were soaked. The baby’s cries died down but were still screeching. Harry wrapped the baby up and used a charm for his clothes. He’d shower and change once the baby went down.

At a loss, Harry held Teddy in his arms and paced the hall, shushing to him and talking quietly. The cries dimmed enough for the teenager to think, but not much more.

Harry was alone to take care of this baby. No one had supported his decision to take Teddy in after Andromeda had been hospitalized from grief. Gradually, she was recovering, but she was in no state to take care of a four month old baby.

The ministry had asked Harry to put Teddy in a group home. Some had even requested that Teddy be sent to his next of kin, the Malfoys. The Weasleys offered to take the baby in, saying that Harry was too young to be raising a child—or at least, that’s what Molly said. Arthur was just going along with his wife.

His friends were off enjoying their summer vacation, free of worry. Ron and Hermione were spending the vacation touring Europe. They had asked Harry to go with them, but he declined so he could be with Teddy. They had been upset and left without a word. They didn’t understand why Harry didn’t let the Weasleys watch Teddy.

Ginny was mad at him, but not because of Teddy. He had left her out of everything he had done with Ron and Hermione, even though she was only a year younger than they. And while she understood, she told him that she needed to sort out her feelings. She didn’t want their love to just be remnants of their Hogwarts years and the residue of long-passed crushes. She needed space, and Harry was willing to give it to her.

They both knew that they loved each other. It was just a matter of finding themselves after such a brutal war and so many losses. Ginny had chosen to spend her summer with Charlie in Romania, observing the dragons and enjoying time away from England. And Harry had supported her decision. She needed to grieve over Fred as well. They all did.

But that still left him alone, caring for an infant, when he knew next to nothing about babies. After the battle, Harry had moved in to Grimmauld Place again. Kreacher had done wonders with the place, and it looked fantastic with gleaming wood and fresh paint. New portraits hung on the walls; the furniture was clean and free of stains. Brighter colors lit up the house. It bore no resemblance to the home Sirius had hated for so long.

For the most part, Kreacher had been watching over Teddy. Harry had been studying to pass his N.E.W.T.s, so while he could change nappies, feed bottles, and do many of the basics, the difficult moments, like getting his godson to stop screaming for no reason in the middle of the night, were usually handled by his house-elf. Kreacher had far more experience dealing with infants than he had, after all.

But because he had allowed Kreacher the night off from baby-duty, Harry was now stuck with a sobbing infant.

He looked at the little red face with brown hair. His godson was so precious, such a jewel. A mix of both Remus and Tonks. Harry had promised to take care of him, and vowed that he would do anything for him. He would be the parent to Teddy that he himself had never had. But first, to stop the crying.

He tried levitating Teddy’s toys to entice the baby in his playthings. No such luck.

He tried tickling him and making funny faces. Definitely not.

He tried flying on his broom, but he couldn’t do that without fearing he’d drop the baby.

Just when he was about to give up and call Kreacher to help, he heard a familiar voice snap at him.

“For Merlin’s sake Potter! Burp the brat!” it whispered.

“What?” Harry looked around, his wand out for the threat. Who was here? The house was still under the Fidelius Charm.

“Burp him you dunderhead! I can’t stand that incessant crying anymore,” the voice sneered.

“Who are you?” Harry asked, rubbing Teddy’s back comfortingly.

“Whom do you think boy?” said the voice as it whispered near his ear.

“Professor Snape?” Harry breathed, his wand lowering.

The voice was gone. And it didn’t come again. Harry shook his head: either he was going madder than Dumbledore, or he had sleep deprivation. He preferred the latter.

“Even in death Snape has to breath down my neck,” Harry muttered amusedly as he made his way back to Teddy’s bedroom.

Harry pulled a cloth over his shoulder and thumped Teddy’s back. A large burp was heard and the baby stopped crying.

“Was that your problem buddy? I forgot to burp you after your bottle! I am so sorry! Harry will never forget again,” Harry cooed, cuddling his godson. Teddy sniffled; tear tracks still on his face.

Harry wiped them away with a warm cloth and laid the baby down in his crib. Teddy yawned and his hair turned turquoise blue as the baby mobile was turned on and a blanket was wrapped around him.

Harry watched with a smile as the baby went into a deep sleep. He put a baby monitoring charm on the crib and walked down the hall to his bedroom. He showered, remembering Teddy’s accident, before going to sleep for another few hours until Teddy would want a bottle.

“Thank you Snape.” At least he’d sleep tonight. And he did.