We've pretty much nailed down all the details, and my and Constance's lawyers will be hashing out the contracts in the days to come. Then it'll just be a matter of, uh, the actual impregnation. Which we've pretty much figured out the details of as well. If we time it right, Constance might be conceiving as early as mid-December.

Meanwhile, Thanksgiving is occupying our thoughts. Harry and Dorothea Magsby are cooking a joint dinner together for both of our families - Constance included, since for the next nine or ten months she's part of the family unit - and the preparation has been intense. I expect the dinner itself will be spectacular. Then, afterwards, an evening of watching the big Quodpot game on TV with the guys. I'm hardly a big Quodpot fan, but the social aspect of the gathering will be fun.

The biggest luxury is the days off, to spend with my Harry and my Teddy. We've grown closer and closer, and keep getting closer all the time. I honestly don't know how I ever survived without the two of them in my life. And soon - by this time next year - there'll be another little face to count as part of my family. It scares me - when is parenthood ever NOT scary? - but I'm quite looking forward to it.

Happy Thanksgiving, y'all. Hope you enjoy your holiday. I'm already enjoying mine.

So it's been an insane week. Just about every night has been spent in talks with Constance, getting to know each other, settling on terms of the deed. Teddy's spent most evenings with the Magsbys or Bill and Fleur; we've barely seen him, which I do not like. But there's no help for it: only so many hours in the day, and a very great number of things to be settled with the mother of the future Malfoy heir.

Constance is an interesting person. Very focused on her art, very driven. Talented, from the photos she's shown us of her work. A couple of her pieces, I particularly liked; I mentioned this to her - and they arrived on our doorstep yesterday morning, Constance having made arrangements to have her gift delivered to us. They're very evocative pieces, somber without being gloomy. Sort of like Constance herself. We have very little in common, she and I, and yet we get along - well enough that the thought of her bearing my child is tolerable. And she and Harry seem to share a sort of artist's bond, a silent mutual understanding. In short, I think we'll all be able to deal with each other for the next nine months or so, and to some degree afterwards - for although Constance has no interest in maintaining any sort of parenting relationship with the child, there's bound to be ongoing contact between us of some sort or another.

So we've been hashing out the terms of the thing all week - but for today, we called a moratorium on the negotiations, so as to all have a day to relax, without interference. Constance is at heart an introvert, and I think the ongoing contact with people (us) day in and day out is wearing on her. And Harry and I need some family time. We've spent today cozy with Teddy: a big tasty breakfast together, then bundled up and went out on our brooms in the chilly winter air, then hot chocolate and biscuits and curled up the three of us together under a warm blanket, Harry and I taking turns reading to Teddy. It's been grand.

Tomorrow's back to the old routine: long days of teaching, and evenings spent in discussion with Constance - at least until we get everything settled. Then... then, the adventure itself begins, and life gets really interesting.

"Losing my virginity" to Harry this weekend was an incredibly touching, an incredibly moving experience. Yet I don't know what to say about it, really. On the physical level, it was... well, it felt really good and yet really strange at the same time; overall I enjoyed it. But the emotional impact of the experience far surpassed the physical aspect. I felt so close to him, closer than ever before. Wholly belonging to him. It was... it was amazing, is all I can really say. And I'm glad we did it. And though Harry and I are both basically happier in our standard roles of me on top... I'm looking forward to doing it again.

Now, with that experience past, the next thing that lies ahead is this coming Tuesday, when Harry and I will be meeting, by my mother's arrangement, with the woman who might be bearing the Malfoy heir. Her name is Constance, and she's an artist, apparently, working in oils and acrylics; I haven't seen her work, but Mother sent me a copy of a review of her works from some indie art show, which spoke favorably of her talent. She's spent the last year or so trying to get a grant or something that will allow her to eschew the string of low-end jobs she's been working to make ends meet and concentrate instead exclusively on her art - so the prospect of receiving a healthy amount of 'compensation' for her services in this regard is apparently attractive enough to bring her to upstate New York to meet with us and discuss the matter further. Even though she's a lesbian, with no interest at all in having children of her own. I'm glad enough of the last part; it means Harry and I will be free to raise the child on our own, without assistance or interference. I'm also glad that she looks superficially enough like Harry that our child would seem to bear the genetics of myself and my partner - she has unruly black hair and greenish eyes, at least. And there's also an extra added bonus: apparently her pureblood line, which traces back to colonial days, adheres to the tradition of tracing lineage back through the maternal bloodline rather than the paternal line. What this means is that for some convoluted reason I don't understand, because a child born to me and Constance would be registered as pureblood within her family's traditions, it would also 'count' as a legitimate pureblood heir by the standards used by English wizards - which means that I don't have to marry Constance in order for the child to be considered a true Malfoy heir. The prospect of my having to marry a woman has troubled Harry from the start, and not particularly been pleasing to me either, so dodging that particular bullet would be lovely.

On the other hand, there's no telling whether Constance and Harry and I would be able to come to a satisfactory agreement on things. For one thing, I've seen her photos - she's not beautiful, and her face is too strong-featured to be considered pretty, yet she's attractive in her own unique way; but that's not the point - in the photos I saw, there was a sullen resentment hidden behind her smile, a twist to her lips that seemed to indicate a darker nature lurking beneath. What that might mean in terms of her personality, I don't yet know, but it concerns me. I don't want to spend nine months with, nor do I want to bear children with, someone who's unpleasant to spend time with, or difficult to get along with. Plus there's the matter of her relocating up here for the length of the pregnancy - I want her close enough to keep tabs on, and to be involved with the pregnancy's progression - and how we'll make a space for her to work on her paintings, and of course the legal terms of the financial compensation and subsequent termination of her parental rights, and... there's just a lot to be discussed before we can treat this as a done deal. And really, even though on the face of it this seems like an ideal opportunity to fulfill my obligations, I'm not sure I want it to happen right now. I mean, Teddy's still getting over his traumas and settling into his new life with us in the States, and I'm still learning how to be a proper teacher, and Harry and I are still so new in our relationship, and... I would have preferred to be more settled before setting this heir thing into motion. But then, I suppose that's life - you don't always get to plan things in advance and have them go the way you want.

Anyway. Teddy's home now from his weekend at Bill and Fleur's, and we've just finished a lovely dinner of boneless pork chops cooked with cloves and nutmeg and served with cinnamon applesauce, brown rice and mixed vegetables and cornbread, and treats from Teddy's Halloween candy bag for dessert. And now Teddy is curled up in the easy chair, reading, and Harry's just sat down beside me on the couch, and I'm going to set aside the laptop now and cuddle up to him. My wonderful Harry. I love him so.

We hereby interrupt this journal to present you with an important public service announcement...

---

Despite the fact that our current roleplay is still in progress, my imagination was recently rudely interrupted by yet another version of Draco, who's insisted on making his presence known. So in a heretofore-unprecedented move, we're going to try to do two different storylines at once: our current characters, at a_draconis and harry_bokeh, and these new boys as well. We'll see how well it works.

And who are these new characters, you might wonder? Well...



He left England after the War, to start a new life. He's crisscrossed the U.S., living in a half-dozen cities and visiting a double-dozen more, settling finally in a cozy neighborhood in northern Seattle. He's had girlfriends and boyfriends along the way, including one relationship whose memory haunts him still. He's come to love the great outdoors; he'll take any excuse to throw the camping gear into his Jeep and take off for the deep woods with his German Shepherd-mix, Lady. In spring through fall, he plays softball in an amateur league, on a team called the Sabertooth Crotch Crickets. He's also a devotee of local indie rock, and enjoys the music of bands you've never heard of. He's acquired a nickname, over the years - people call him Dark. You can find his journal here:

http://actaeonsdog.livejournal.com/



After a less than amicable break-up with Ginny, Harry left England for the states and eventually ended up in San Francisco where he had his first fling since breaking up with Ginny and had a one-night-stand with a red-headed, blue-eyed man. After waking up feeling awkward, yet satisfied, Harry went to Golden Gate Park, sat on a blanket, and thought long and hard. He came to the conclusion that he no longer cared much for San Francisco and that he obviously liked men as well as women. Harry decided to move again and found himself in Seattle. He fell instantly in love with the city and felt at home right away. One day, in a fit of boredom, he walked into his local Starbucks and got a job working as a barista. He found himself enjoying the work and the basic knowledge of coffee he was getting, but had a growing disdain for the company. He quit and found a job at an independent chain where he learned about as much as there is to know about coffee. Eventually, the owner of the company sold out to Starbucks, leaving Harry jobless and bored again. One day during a walk Harry passed a newly renovated building with a "For Lease" sign on the front. He called the number and within a few months, he opened "Harry's Rainy Day Coffee & Cafe." He's had a couple of girlfriends and more than a couple boyfriends, but after a rather strained relationship that ended in a bad break-up, Harry has been single ever since, focusing on making his cafe the best damn place for coffee and sandwiches in all of Seattle. His journal can be found here:

http://rainy-day-cafe.livejournal.com/



Come and have a look at our new boys, read the journals - the Draco journal in particular already has several longish entries that give a fair glimpse into his past and his personality - and friend them, if you wish to participate by commenting or simply follow along!

---

The ongoing adventures of Draco Malfoy, Transfigurations teacher at WAMAS, will continue shortly...

Halloween was bodacious. There was no school, at WAMAS or Teddy's school, and everyone flung themselves headlong into the festivities. Not one single person on the WAMAS costume was without a costume - not even the house elves. During what would have been school hours, the kids went from classroom to classroom trick-or-treating - including Teddy's school, whose children were invited up to WAMAS to enjoy the day - and then there was the OMG DINNER FEAST which featured an array and variety of foods beyond compare or indeed even description - and then the bonfire, the live music at twilight and into the night, the dance circle, the drum circle, the All Hallows ceremony, and groups of kids just basically running wild all over campus, with full faculty approval... It was grand. Disorganized and frenetic and festive and splendid. I had a great time.

And Harry gave me my presents - framed pictures of me and him and me and Teddy, for home and for my office at work, and - after all this time I'd nearly forgotten - my old hawthorn wand back. I didn't win it back, so it likely won't work for me, but I have no interest in dueling with Harry anyway, and since I'm satisfied with my current wand anyway (eleven and a quarter inches, rowan wood with - ironically enough - a hippogriff feather core, rigid and well-suited for transfigurations) it's more of a sentimental keepsake anyway, memory of a time that once was, and how much better things are now. Teddy gave me a gift also - a full set of the illustrated editions of the Lord of the Rings trilogy, signed by the illustrator, Alan Lee, who apparently lived near Teddy back in England. I am flummoxed and delighted - it's been ages since I read the books, and then it was a set of tattered paperbacks smuggled into Hogwarts and passed down through generations of pureblood Slytherins, because the stories were just too good to be disdained merely because they happened to be written by a Muggle. It'll be lovely to read them again now, and read them aloud to Teddy, who's asked for precisely that.

...Teddy. I told you about my pirate/renaissance/80s rocker costume, and I told you about Harry's (utterly convincing) Slytherin student costume, and that Teddy had "something in mind" but wouldn't say what. Well, Teddy shifted his features just enough and had Harry transfigure his clothes, and went for Halloween dressed as ME. Caused a fair number of double-takes! In the evening I transfigured his outfit again, to match mine, and then there were even more double-takes. I have to admit that not only did I find it an incredible ego-rush, I also found it utterly heartwarming that on a day when people indulge their fantasies and dress up as their heroes, Teddy-my-angel chose to emulate me. It's... touching. Makes me all misty-eyed thinking about it.

Teddy-my-boy has got a HUGE bag of candy. Massive. I mean, every staff member at WAMAS was giving out treats, from home-baked brownies and popcorn balls and marzipan and candy apples (Harry made toffee) to candies from the US, Canada, French-oriented from Montreal, and the U.K. (I gave out rose-flavored Turkish Delight) in wizarding and muggle types, so the sheer variety of goodies available was amazingly diverse... and the kids were encouraged to collect candy throughout the day and night, so Teddy's haul is amazing. He handed it all over to Harry to be properly dispensed, except for the treats he'd eaten throughout the day - what a good boy! - and now said bag of goodies is tempting me to dip into it for a nibble or two here and there. I shan't, of course, even though Teddy's said it's perfectly fine with him if I do. I shall be noble, and save such indulgences for when we're nibbling together.

Of course, everyone's high on sugar, and will be for days. As you can imagine, teaching my classes has been FUN! FUN! FUN! I've had to keep a watchful eye on my hyperactive students. No disasters yet.

What else? Oh, gift from Mariana! A lovely green and dark grey cashmere argyle sweater that I don't know how she managed to afford on her salary - and two books on gay sex. All of which shall be put to good use, considering...

After long thought and significant time spent getting used to the idea, I told Harry day before yesterday that I want him to have all of me. Including that one last part of me that remains virginal. We'll do it this weekend, when we have time to relax and enjoy each other: Teddy will stay with Bill and Fleur, and we'll sip champagne and make love in ways I've never experienced before. For all that I've thought this through and prepared myself mentally, I'm still a little nervous. But I feel that it's like making the ultimate commitment, sharing that with Harry, and that it's time for us to take that step. So. Yeah. That's our plan for the weekend.

Time for my evening snuggle with Harry before bed. Don't want to take time away from that, now, do I?

Teddy's first day of school was traumatic. Not for him: for me and Harry. Watching our little boy getting all grown up is melancholy-making. And for Harry, who's been home with him all day since his arrival, having him off at school is lonely-making. But he apparently had a great first day, was all perky and bubbly when I came back from classes, eager to talk about his day - and then dove into his homework without needing to be told. He's such a good boy. And smart: when I checked over his homework, I could barely find anything that needed to be done better. A couple of math problems, that was it. Even his penmanship is neat. Such a good boy.

And we got a package from Mother today, a big one. She's at a wizarding resort in the Caribbean, and sent presents: a bottle of rum, a Tortuga rum cake, a box of little coconut cakes, a big bag of indescribable yet delicious sweets, a selection of jams, jellies and chutneys, a variety of spices for Harry, a set of hand-carved wooden animals and a small-sized steel drum for Teddy, a lovely hand-painted vase, an intricately-detailed carved wooden bowl featuring animals and people dancing along with a display stand for it, a brightly-colored artistically silkscreened t-shirt for each of us, and a special box just for me for my birthday: packets and packets of very expensive gourmet coffee, premium Jamaican Blue Mountain, along with several boxes of a jellied guava treat that I fell in love with years ago, the first time she sent it to me. "To my darling son on his twenty-eighth birthday," read the card, "may you enjoy many, many years of happiness, peace and prosperity, surrounded by the ones you love." A lovely sentiment, Mother. Even if you did forget how old I am.

So I'm currently luxuriating in a cup of oh-my-god excellent coffee - here's hoping I sleep tonight! - and a slice of rum cake, and a coconut cakelet, and a chunk of guava jelly sweet, feeling quite good about things. Shortly I will put away the laptop and cuddle my Harry, and then life will be complete.

So yesterday Harry made his usual amazing big breakfast for us. Steak and eggs, by my request, and grilled tomato and beans and potatoes and toast and all sorts of good things. We ate heartily, then lounged around for a semi-nap for about a half hour digesting - a necessity! - and then went into town on our shopping trip. We procured everything our Teds might need, school supplies and craft supplies and new clothes and things, and did so in really an amazingly short amount of time. By the time we got home, there was enough time left in the afternoon for me and Teddy to go for a long walk in the woods in the rain. Well, that was our alibi. In actuality, we went straight to my office in the school building and transplanted all our little herbs, to get them potted and ready. Teddy made a bunch of little signs, carefully hand-lettered and illustrated with colored pencils, using toothpicks as stakes, to tell the herbs apart without using those dreadful plastic signs that come with the plants. We watered them and fertilized them and made sure they were all happy, then shook hands and agreed we were pleased with a job well done.

Once that was done, we did go for that walk - me in fox-form, Teddy by my side, wandering down the wooded trails surrounding WAMAS. The heavy canopy of trees for the most part attenuated the rain to a fine mist, though there was enough of it (and we were out long enough) for both of us to get thoroughly soaked. I hadn't wanted to put rain-repellant spells on us because getting wet is half the fun of walking in the rain, but I had performed warming charms prior to our walk, so neither of us got too chilled. The smell of the forest and the rain and the wet leaves underfoot and the muted colors of everything were glorious. At one point, I smelled a fat, juicy mouse, and couldn't quite stop myself from rooting it out and having myself a lovely snack, while Teddy watched in fascinated horror. When we were totally drenched, we went in, where Harry had hot tea and cozy towels waiting. Of course, I insisted on shaking myself, spraying water everywhere, before I'd allow Harry and Teddy to start rubbing me down with towels. Then I had to go brush my teeth and gargle with Listerine before I could kiss Harry - that mouse-eating thing, y'know. For some odd reason, he's squeamish about being kissed by a mouth that's chomped down on live raw mouse. Strange, innit? ;)

At three a.m., I woke up Teddy and side-along apparated with him to my office, where we retrieved our box of potted herbs and brought them home, arranged them neatly on the windowsill in the kitchen. Harry found them this morning, as Teddy and I sat at the kitchen table waiting and giggling. He was delighted, and hugged and kissed us both many times, declaring how pleased he was. So, yeah, a job well done.

We ate oatmeal and brown sugar for breakfast, then went out flying, the three of us, in the crisp autumn morning air - Teddy's choice: as today is his last day before starting school, he gets to choose what we do today. It was lovely, and we all had a wonderful time. Now we're about to have a lovely lunch of grilled cheese and tomato sandwiches, after which we will go into town to see a Cary Grant double feature at the local theater, Bringing Up Baby and Operation Petticoat. I haven't seen either; it should be fun. Then tonight's dinner will be lasagna and zucchini and garlic bread and spumoni for dessert; then we'll get Teddy's bookbag packed for school, and his clothes laid out and ready for tomorrow, while Harry packs him a yummy and nutritious lunch... Our little boy's going to school. I feel vaguely sad and nostalgic about this. I dunno.

Lunch is ready! Mmm, smells good.

Did you know that LJ limits you to the following number of notifications per month?

Basic-25
Plus-200
Paid-1000

The fuckers.

So now I'm going back to see what comments might have been left to recent entries that I didn't know about. So if you commented to me and I didn't answer before, that's why - I didn't know! Sorry about that.

EDIT: Apparently that limit only applies to things you track, not your comment notifications. So why did I miss a few comments? Argh, I dunno. But I guess LJ's off the hook... THIS time. ::scowls::

So Teddy starts school next Monday. He'll be in Miss Clemont's class of nine and ten year olds, with Ryan Magsby and Kelcie McVicker and seven others. So he'll need school supplies: notebooks and a binder and filler paper and dividers and folders and pens and pencils and a pencil case and markers and highlighters and report covers and colored pencils and crayons and erasers and glue and reinforcements and blunt-tipped scissors and a ruler and protractor and compass and a USB flash drive and index cards and post-it notes and construction paper and graph paper and a drawing pad and a new bookbag and a lunchbox and a shoebox or two for the diorama project they'll be doing in a week or so. And because Teddy's a rapidly growing boy, he needs new school clothes, and ones like the rest of the kids wear, t-shirts and casual shirts and trousers and new sneakers, and sweaters and thermals and a warm winter jacket as it's getting colder here. Plus sweatpants and jeans especially for wearing after-school, jeans he can get dirty and scuffed and frayed. Plus new pajamas, as I can see his ankles and wrists in his current ones. And slippers and a robe and let's not forget socks and underwear, and it's really no surprise that we'll have to basically replace his entire wardrobe every few months, the way Teddy's shooting up like a weed, and to match the weather of the changing seasons. And changing fashions. Teddy will be the object of some curiosity, with his ever-shifting hair color and his British accent; it won't do to have him be the object of disdain or scorn because his clothes aren't "right".

Teddy's an introvert, or so I'm told; he's not one for spending much time in social gatherings. But still it's good for him to have some socialization with kids his own age - and there aren't that many. The nine other kids in his class at school, of which two also belong to the subset of WAMAS residents below the age of school attendance - ten year old Ryan Magsby, nine year old Kelcie McVicker, eight year old Megan Bond, seven year old Jonah Lancaster. There's also apparently a Wizard Scouts group for the upstate New York area, comprised of maybe a dozen boys and girls aged seven to ten - Ryan is a Wizard Scout, and so is Megan, and obviously some of the kids in Teddy's class are Scouts as well. So that's perhaps fifteen to eighteen kids in Teddy's general age range to serve as a potential pool of candidates for friendship. It doesn't seem like very much at all - but then, one good friend would be more than enough, I suppose, for Teddy to have balance in that area of his life. So far it seems that Ryan is the closest candidate for "best friend", though he seems to be forging a bond with Kelcie as well. The more the merrier, I say.

Meanwhile, our latest project is going swimmingly. The other day me and Teddy glazed the array of newly-fired plant pots we made some days back, in stripes and swirls and daubs and patches of all different colors. They'll be fired again and ready for us by tomorrow afternoon, Marie promised. Today, while I was busy teaching class and Harry was busy subbing for Bill, Teddy spent the day with Dorothea Magsby, whose job as Housekeeping Manager for WAMAS allows her some latitude - and the two of them went into town and stopped by the florist's shop and picked up the pots of herbs Teddy and I arranged for: dill, thyme, sage, chives, oregano, flat-leaf parsley, rosemary, tarragon, basil, coriander, marjoram, caraway, savory, lemongrass. (We already have mint growing wild in the front garden, and chamomile and lavender, and apple and pear trees; and wild raspberries and blackberries out back.) Friday evening or Saturday, Teddy and I will transplant the new herbs into the ceramic pots and hide the lot in my office at school; late Saturday night or early Sunday morning, while Harry is sleeping, we'll sneak the lot into the house and arrange them on the kitchen windowsill, there to be discovered by our Harry when he trundles into the kitchen Sunday morning to make us our usual splendid weekend breakfast. He's going to love it, I just know it. Teddy and I are all a-giggle just thinking about how pleased he's going to be. Already we're brainstorming, trying to come up with our next project to bring a smile to Harry's face.

Next week, by the way, is my birthday. October 31st. Originally when I came to WAMAS, I'd planned to finagle a few days off to go to New York City and spend Halloween celebrating with my friends. But now the people I used to associate with in New York, all but Mariana, are irrelevant, and my friends are all here - and odd stray whispers and silences have led me to believe that some surprise is being planned for me. Which would take some doing, as from what I've heard Halloween at WAMAS is a major happenstance, a party lasting all day and all night, part solemn remembrance of history and persecutions past, part Pagan-ish harvest festival and commemoration of the Celtic New Year, part modern celebration of costumes and scary stories and pots of candy, with full-on feasts for every meal and door-to-door trick-or-treating through the classrooms during the day and a bonfire and a ball with live music and a costume contest and general merriment all 'round. As a teacher, I'll be expected to do a certain amount of supervision and chaperoning, but I'm told there'll be plenty of room for fun as well. I've already arranged for a costume, an outfit that will, if executed properly, be a cross between Renaissance garb, pirate gear and 1980's hair metal fashion, built around a poufy lace-trimmed shirt, skintight leather trousers and high laced boots, with additions of accessories hither and yon. It sounds ridiculous, pretentious and cliche'd, but in execution the combination works; I look astonishingly sexy. Harry, by contrast, is going as a Slytherin - which I find astonishingly sexy. And Teddy - well, Harry says Teddy says he has something in mind, so we'll see. Should be an interesting day, Halloween, all things considered.

And now it's Teddy's bedtime, and I've got to go read a story and snuggle up to a little boy in foxform. Ciao.

I think I'm coming down with a cold, blast it. I've been sniffling since the three of us went out flying after dinner yesterday, and my throat feels ever so slightly raw, and there's a vague muzziness about everything that makes me feel as if full-blown illness isn't far off. And this is the last thing I need, another cold, when I'm really still recovering from pneumonia - I'm still taking the Oxygenation Potion, albeit a lower dose, and doing breathing treatments as needed - and heaven help me if I relapse. No, I really do not need that. No, not at all.

So Teddy and Harry have been total loves, taking care of me: tea and water and Vitamin C pills, and Harry's luscious rich broth, and Teddy's wonderful cocoa. Amelia's come by - no such thing as a "day off" for the school nurse, not really - and brought potions to ease my sore throat and drippy nose and general malaise. If this thing shows the least sign of escalating into breathing troubles, I'm to seek her out IMMEDIATELY, so we can begin treatment and avert a recurrence of my hospitalization. While my stay in Montreal's wizarding hospital wasn't all that unpleasant - they treated me extremely well, after all - I've no desire to repeat it, nor to put Harry and Teddy through that sort of worry.

Meanwhile, I'm deeply annoyed. I mean, I'm not generally sickly. As a child, I rarely got ill, even at Hogwarts where I was exposed to teeming hordes of germ-bearing youngsters. In my years in New York City, I generally got one mild cold at the onset of cold weather, and then not again, despite riding subways similarly well-stocked with germ-bearing commuters. Now suddenly it's cold after cold, and PNEUMONIA, and what the fuck, seriously. This is totally not on. Totally.

So I'm fidgety and fussy and even more grumpy than I usually am when I feel ill, and my boys are being exceedingly patient. Harry sits with me and rubs my head, which aches. Teddy curls up on the sofa with me and reads to me. I feel very lucky and very loved - which is not enough to keep me from acting like a crotchety old codger, but does warm me inside.

And I think I'm going to put the laptop away and lie down again with my head in Harry's lap, and let myself be coddled. Yes.

The day before yesterday, me and Teddy went to the woodshop together. We made a recipe box for Harry: big enough to hold the large cards, and a lot of them, with his name carved into the top and the front angled in such a way as to make a sort of easel stand to place a recipe card on, for easy viewing while working. Harry LOVED it, and spent the rest of the night organizing his recipes in his new box. We were delighted, both by how well the box turned out and by how well suited it was to Harry and how much Harry liked it.

So yesterday, spurred by our success, Teddy and I went to the ceramics workshop together. We're making a whole bunch of little pots, of varying sizes and shapes, windowsill-sized, to go on the big sunny kitchen windowsill. We'll glaze them different colors, and when they're ready, we'll plant a different herb in each one, so that Harry will have a wide variety of fresh herbs literally at his fingertips. Both of us had a grand time, and Teddy in particular came home covered in dust and clay. I sent him off to have a bath and get into his pajamas; and then, after dinner, we curled up together in the recliner under a cozy blanket and snuggled.

And we talked. And Teddy said that since we were looking after him, and since me and Harry were going to be together forever, right? that it was like we were both his dads. And I told him that I was proud to be his dad. That he was a great kid, smart and sweet and giggly-funny and just awesome in every way. And we hugged, while Harry (sitting on the sofa with a book, pretending not to eavesdrop) got all misty-eyed sentimental in our general direction.

When it was bedtime, I read to Teddy as usual, two chapters of his current book, A Wind In The Door. And then I changed into fox-form and stretched out against his side on top of the covers, and Teddy fell asleep with his arm snugged tight around me and his face buried in my fur. When he was well asleep, I wriggled carefully free and climbed down from his loft bed and went to find Harry, and licked him all over his face before changing back.

And today, Teddy and I have made brownies together from Harry's own recipe, to surprise him with when he gets back from his last-minute photo job. Teddy's also teaching me how to make cocoa from scratch - the boy has a gift for making the most delicious cocoa you can imagine. I'm noticing the way his face lights up when I pay attention to him, when we're doing things together. How much he enjoys our together-times. No surprise there - I enjoy them too.

I never imagined myself taking to fatherhood this way. But Teddy's my son now, and I can't imagine life without him. Without his sunshiny smile. My Teddy-bear.

It's been a hectic bunch of days. What with classes, pop quizzes, whipping the lackadaisacal little whippersnappers into shape - and then MOVING, packing all my belongings AGAIN and getting them into place in the new house - well, not much time to think, let along journal.

But that's all behind me now, thanks to the thirty or so volunteers who descended upon us like locusts and got our belongings not only moved, but unpacked and set up within the space of a day, so that our new cottage looks and feels like a comfy, cozy home. I don't know what we would've done without them, and I am deeply thankful, and not a little amazed by what they accomplished.

So now Teddy has his own room - no more sleeping on the couch - and the master bedroom feels cozy and masculine with Harry's furniture in it, while the rest of the house is an eclectic mixture of his things and mine. The kitchen is roomy and sunny, a perfect place for Harry to whip up his fantastic foods and baked goods (Apple Brown Betty today, plus soup and cornbread and a pie - yum!). There's wild raspberry and blackberry bushes within a few paces of the back porch, and apple and pear trees out front, and fresh mint growing wild in the flowerbeds near the front door. We live next door to the Magsbys - Caleb, the flying teacher and Quodpot coach, and his wife Dorothea, the housekeeping manager and house elf supervisor, and their ten year old son Ryan - their elder children, 13-year old Allison and 16-year old Jared, are WAMAS students and live in the dorms. They're lovely people, and I foresee us growing closer as neighbors and friends. Cal's already expressed a covetous desire for my big-screen television, not-so-subtly maneuvering for an invitation to watch the pro Quodpot games and broomstick racing on cable with me on the weekends, offering to bring the beers and chips. I think I'll probably take him up on it.

We've had a lovely first day in our new house. Harry cooked up the aforementioned splendid foodstuffs, filling the house with wonderful smells. I spent some time curled up in the cozy window seat with Teddy, reading to him. In the afternoon, Harry and I retired to the bedroom for a delightful, languorous interlude of loving. Now we're relaxing in the living room watching Quidditch on TV while Teddy plays quietly in his new room, and everything feels cozy and good. I almost don't mind having to begin the working week anew tomorrow. My teaching assistants are doing a wondrous job of keeping up on the grading for me, and that's making it all workable for me. Plus, my twelfth graders are a positive delight, with their incisive minds and insightful questions about their senior projects. The drama club is making great strides toward production of the play they'll be putting on for the school before the Christmas hols, and the GLBT club has proven to be a pleasure to oversee. Everything's going well, overall. And I'm home now. It's all good.

He moves through my life like a whisper,
He touches my heart like a song.
He strengthens me with every quiver,
He's here by my side all along.
He nourishes me with his cooking,
He fills up my soul with his smile.
He's ever so masculine-looking,
He's handsome, so toothsome, in style.
At night, I sink into his heartbeat
As if giving in to a dream,
And then I wake up to his kisses
To set me a-sizzle with steam.
In times of need I turn toward him
On him I know I can depend,
He's my one and only, my partner,
My very best forever friend.

The reason I have not posted until now is because I have been overwhelmed - indeed, overwrought - with the way my students have, in my absence, managed to summarily forget everything they ever knew about transfiguration. No fault to Helen Eitreich, my well-meaning sub; she did what she could, but in the absence of lesson plans (which I had not had prepared, so far out) there was only so much she could do to keep them learning. My return to the classroom was dreadful indeed, culminating with the near-transformation of me into a used Kleenex by one Jared Finkelstein. In response to which I, in the vernacular, went all Malfoy over his ass, channeling shades of my father's icy wrath to properly convey my feelings about the situation, to the point where the boy damn near wet himself. It was neither a proud nor a pretty moment in my work-week. --Dunderheads, they're all DUNderheads, to quote my former head-of-house; and I have been administering pop quizzes with vituperative glee, in the hopes of shocking their indolent systems back into some semblance of working order. I expect my name is being muttered under the breath of many hastily-studying students this weekend, in conjunction with a variety of nasty adjectives; and if it gets them back in line, I couldn't be more pleased.

So today we've been packing. Yes, packing up the apartment that I only just recently got un-packed, in preparation for our move to a house on-campus. We'll be living next to the Magsbys, in a little three-bedroom cottage that will be quite comfortable, I think, for Harry and Teddy and me. Sometime this week, we'll meet with the house elves and tell them what changes we'd like to the paint and wallpaper and carpet and floors. Then next weekend we'll do the actual moving: my living room stuff to the cottage, Harry's bedroom set to the cottage, my bedroom set to Harry's place so we'll have a bed there in case we need to stay in town for some reason, Teddy's stuff to the cottage, and everything unpacked and arranged. Granted, it's all a bunch of wand-waving and deminiaturizing and such, but still strenuous at that, and time consuming. The only solace I can take is that this WILL BE the last move for a good long while. We're settling into our cottage, as a family, and that's all there is to it.

As a family... I'm already quite attached to Teddy. Very very fond of him. In fact, I love him, even though it's been a pitifully short amount of time in which to form such a bond. Impossible not to, though: he's gentle and shy and soft, with an infectious giggle and just this general sweetness about his manner that makes him irresistible. Already, I look forward to bedtimes, and reading to him, and hugs and kisses goodnight. He's just... a part of my world, and a vital part of my world, and a complement to Harry and myself that makes me wonder how I ever managed to make do without him. And I'm pleased to note that the attachment seems to be forming in reverse as well... that he's bonding to me the same way I am to him. It's good; it's as it should be.

Left to his own devices, I think Teddy would spend his whole life curled up on the couch within arm's reach of Harry and myself, reading a book. But Ryan Magsby, Caleb's son, has already cottoned to the fact that there is now another boy on campus within a year of his own age, and has taken to coming around, knocking at the door at any and all reasonable hours, and asking whether Teddy can come out to play? At first, Teddy seemed hesitant to leave the nest, but with a very light touch, he was persuaded - and now the boys seem to be forming a friendship. I'm glad. Teddy needs to settle into his new life, and how better to do so than with a playmate, a friend his own age? It's a stroke of luck, I think, that Ryan happens to be ten years old and so closely situated. There are only a few other children of faculty members on campus of an age below WAMAS admission level, and from what I understand, not many more in the wizarding grade school that Teddy will eventually be attending, so his social prospects are rather slim for the time being. Not that this seems to matter overly to the boy - who is both homebody and introvert, it seems - but it's simply not good for him to spend all his time at home with a book: he needs socialization, he needs playtime, even if only in measured doses. Thus Teddy has spent the afternoon with Ryan, returning a short while ago full of chatter about an excursion into the woods of WAMAS, and Ryan's treehouse, and the tire swing, and a little babbling brook awash with tiny frogs and water striders, pink-cheeked and eager to tell us all about his adventures. So he's had a pleasant day, and glad I am for it!

In the meantime, Teddy's absence left Harry and I with a bit of time to devote to each other, without distraction. Sadly, I'm still a bit too under-the-weather for this to have degenerated into the all-out sexfest that I might otherwise have wished - though we did spend a suitable interval devoted to tender lovemaking, which was lovely and satisfying. Mostly, though, we've been cuddling... which is nothing we don't do when Teddy's around, anyway, except that now I don't have to feel shy about shoving my hands down Harry's pants as the mood strikes. Don't laugh; I like to keep my hands there to keep them warm. Mmm, snuggly.

Tonight will be a quiet night. Dinner at the dining hall, I think, to avoid the hassles of cooking and cleaning up - last night, we went out for prime steaks in Lake Placid; tonight, we shall eat turkey meatloaf, scalloped potatoes and braised cabbage alongside the students and staff, and enjoy it nearly as much - and then perhaps a rousing game or two of Uno, at which Harry cheats mercilessly if given a chance. (I keep a rolled-up magazine at hand, and smack him with it every time I catch him. It works as a deterrent not at all, but soothes my own frustrations nicely.) Then bedtime for Teddykins, and another chapter or two of his latest book read aloud for his benefit - he's having a grand time ploughing through the books I bought him, utterly delighted by the bounty they represent! - and eventually, bedtime for Harry and me, cozy and snuggly-warm as such things should be. Beside the adventurous weekend nights of my Manhattan past, it all seems so lackluster - where are the art boutiques, the nightclubs, the glamour and glitz? - but I am well satisfied with my life as it stands, I am content.

And now it's time to head out for dinner. I'm looking forward to that braised cabbage - don't laugh, they do it most excellently well here, tender and sweet. And if I recall correctly, apple cobbler for dessert. Not a meal to miss! Especially with my students glaring at me resentfully from their tables - a fact which will make my food taste even sweeter. Let them fear me, damn it, as long as it brings their minds back to their studies! while I, in the meantime, spend my weekend relaxing and mellowing my mind against the assault of their blithering unknowingness. Eh, in the end, it's all good.

I've just made Teddy and me an early breakfast of bacon and eggs and muffin, oatmeal and juice. Harry's still sleeping, poor dear. The last bunch of days have been hard on him ... harder on him than on me, even though I was the one who was ill. And Mother's in "guest quarters", a vacant dorm room downstairs, staying over a last day or two to make sure her darling boy is well again. I can't say I much mind the attention. It was nice in the hospital, at least.

Montreal Medical was a good place, they took care of me well. Kept me well-saturated in potions and my room well-fumed with menthol and herbal smelly stuff to help me breathe. The nurses were attentive and caring, even the food was good - little buttery croissants with breakfast, and they brought in trays for my entire entourage with every meal. Harry, Teddy and Mum rarely left my side, even when everyone was just quietly reading at my bedside, it strengthened me to have them there. Even Mum, with whom, y'know, I don't always get along. She's still my mum, y'know? And she brought me Turkish Delight and things to read, and made me feel like a little boy again, and that was nice. Teddy read to me, and that was good too. So last night, I read to Teddy, for the first time in awhile, and that was like... the world going back to normal. A nice normal world where a little boy gets read to, not vice versa. Teddy's had enough sickness around him. Time for something better.

...Just had to interrupt this entry to do a breathing treatment. That leaves me a little manic. Plus the Oxygenation Potion leaves me a little lightheaded. Lovely combination. :)

Reading back on this entry, I hardly mention Harry. And he was my rock, the whole time. The certainty of his presence was my lifeline. I don't know what I would've done without him there with me. At the very least, I would've been afraid. And I never was, not with my Harry with me...

I'm hearing sounds that indicate he's awake, now. Time to go give him some slightly manic, lightheaded kisses and make him some yummy breakfast. He deserves a good cozy morning, after all he's been through with me, and the warmth of his family.

Well, that was loads of fun. NOT. I've just spent the last week or so in hospital. Bleh. I'm so far behind with all my classes, I'll never catch up. And Harry is mocking my attention to duty. PFEH to him, I say. And bleh in general.

But I am feeling some better now. And I can breathe again. Go me.

ETA to return to work is Thursday, if all goes well tonight and tomorrow. I'm rarin' to go. For awhile there, I was so sick I didn't want to do anything at all but lie still and be treated, but by yesterday I was getting antsy as hell. Now I'm just desperate to be out and about - even though I'm still a bit wobbly on the legs and fingers are re-remembering how to type and all. It's a good sign, though, they say, that I'm feeling so ready for activity. That I'm healing. Well, about freakin' time, sez I...

Poor Teddy. I was just really worried about him through all this, what with his last experience with hospitals being his grandmum dying and all... But he's sailed through like the champ he is, and I think we've all come out of this experience stronger. Except for Harry, who is mocking me and shall be quite rudely snogged. Pfeh to him, I say.

Mum has brought me some Turkish Delight. I am filled with glee.

More later, if I'm up to it.

Today Teddy and I made his bookshelf together. Nothing fancy, just a four-shelf low bookshelf, pretty standard, but made with our own four hands with painstaking care. Teddy followed instructions precisely as I taught him what I knew about how to measure, how to sand, how to stain, and it came out very well, if I do say so myself. Farley cast a drying spell on it, so we could take it home right away. Teds stained it cherry-tone, a nice rich dark reddish-brown. Looks nice.

So now the shelf is in our living room, next to the TV, and Teds has arranged all his new books in it - organized by genre and alphabetically, spines even with the front of the case. Very particular, he is... which I find charming; something adorable about such a small person being that particular about things. Lissenne (the Drama teacher, with whom I co-chair the afterschool drama and GLBT clubs) brought him some special bookmarks, nice ones, that clip onto the page without poking up beyond the edge of the book, so you can put the book back in the shelf between readings - one has a cat, one has a swirly design, one has his initial, "T". I thought it was sweet of her to think of him, and Teddy was such a little gentleman as he said thank you that it was just adorable.

In the afternoon, Harry and Teddy made cookies. Snickerdoodle for Teddy and white chocolate macadamia for me, upon my pleading. They're very good cookies. Dinnertime was spent in our rooms again, Harry not being quite up to the dining hall - and the house elves brought us plates: bison meatloaf with brown gravy, roasted red potatoes, squash casserole and maple-glazed baby carrots, fresh-baked dinner rolls and the incredibly good WAMAS carrot cake for dessert. I'm not a carrot cake aficionado, but they really do it especially well here, rich and moist. So that was good.

And there were a ton of homemade get well cards in my dorm mailbox from the students to Harry and me, and people kept dropping by to see if we were all right, if we needed anything. Fleur, of course. Lissenne. Caleb, to check on us as well as mention that his ten year old son Ryan is anxious to meet Teddy - the only other boy on campus close to his age. Merrie dropped off a packet of chamomile tea; Mattie brought us a basket of fresh-baked scones. Not so much as to be annoying, but enough to make us aware that we'd been missed, and that our colleagues care about our welfare. Left me with a nice, warm feeling.

Tomorrow, the three of us are going to have a look at one of the on-campus family houses, the cottages WAMAS makes available to staff members with children below WAMAS-age. Which Harry says he forgot all about, when he was making frenzied plans to house Teddy at his place. And I believe him, but... it still leaves a bad taste in my mouth, that he was so quick to disregard (or just not consider) my needs and wishes. But I guess that's water under the bridge, now. The point is to move forward. Which we are doing. Mrs. Harpendapple's going to show us one of the three-bedroom ones, which would be ideal as it would leave us with a spare bedroom to use as a nursery if and when the Malfoy family heir enters our lives (I should hope that Mother will refrain from pressing her point until after Teddy's had some time to settle in, but knowing Mother... who knows?) and as a guest room until that point, so that Mariana or maybe even Mother could come and spend some time with. We'll continue to have all the benefits of WAMAS residence, like house-elf maid service and laundry done and meals from/at the dining hall when we wish it, alongside all the benefits of having our own house: privacy, a kitchen to make our own meals when we choose, and so forth. Harry can keep his house as his studio in-town, and as a separate residence should we feel the need to get away from the school for a bit; we can furnish our WAMAS cottage with a combination of my things and Harry's and maybe some new bits as well, so that it feels like home to all of us. Teddy will be able to settle in, with wizarding kids his own age nearby to play with and acres of beautiful forest as his backyard. It'll be lovely.

...Louise just brought me back the big stack of papers I'd given her, all neatly graded and entered into the computer grading system via the terminal at my office. "You're my hero," I told her, and gave her the second stack, the ones I'd been holding back to keep from terrifying her all at once. She accepted this with nary a quiver of protest. I love having TAs - now all I need to do is go through the graded papers to get a sense of how the kids are doing, and concentrate on things like composing class assignments and quizzes and such. Life is going to be ever so much easier without all the blasted grading!

So it's a quiet night, Harry and I watching television, Teddy reading, all of us sipping tea and cocoa and making conversation here and there. A comfortable night together, as a family. And it feels so natural, despite being so new. It's as if Teddy's always been with us. I feel incredibly fortunate that we seem to be blending so easily...

Woke up this morning hacking, choking, shaking from chills - feeling completely wretched. Total relapse. Helen Eitrich, the school's registrar, took over my classes for me, the dear woman, while I spent the morning sleeping cozily beside Harry, waking only for doses of cough potion and trips to the bathroom.

About two hours ago, Arn came up to our room bringing this GIGANTIC box. You've got a package, Teddy told me, casting a curious gaze upon it - a gaze which changed to wide-eyed surprise as I corrected him, you've got a package. Me and Harry were then treated to the best sight I could imagine - a young boy's face awash with delight and wonder as he unpacked the box, book by book. It was obvious that it was all he could do to force himself onward to the next book, when EVERY one, he just wanted to sit down and dig into... "I'll read this first," he declared at least a half-dozen times, finally giving up on the too-tough task of assigning priorities in favor of just unpacking them already. "And all of this... is for me?" he asked me timidly at the end, as if afraid I'd somehow changed my mind midway through. I laughed and reassured him that yes, they were ALL HIS, and gave him a big hug and a kiss on the forehead. And I could feel him, making himself stand still to put up with it, instead of diving nose-first into the books as he longed to...

As he was stacking his books carefully on the end table to get them safely out of the way for the time being, I asked him what he thought of the idea of our building bookshelves for him togeter. As I'd expected, his face lit up all over again. Yeah, it'll be a fun time for us.

And then, he settled in with his brand-new copy of Phantom Tollbooth, curled up in a corner of the bed opposite me and Harry, and I got my first glimpse of Teddy as his own best self: in the blink of an eye, his hair went from mottled salt-and-pepper gray-wolf grey to the EXACT shade of blue on the Phantom Tollbooth's book cover. Hee.

Back to bed now, I think. We'll see if I feel any better later.

So Harry's been sick the past two days, and I've been taking care of him the best I can after work, Teddy filling in the daytime hours same as he did for me. I've been careful to give him his due praise, for being such a good, sweet, kind little boy. Though it's probably doing him some good, to be distracted from his own pain by caring for other's hurts instead. Still. He's really been wonderful - and he just glows when I tell him so, lighting up from the inside. As for Harry... well, his tendency to whiiiiiine when ill is offset by his increased cuddliness, so that works out well in the end. It's a wretched bug, this is, but Harry's already showing signs of improvement; we'll probably all be right as rain before too long. As for me, I'm fine now aside for a persistent cough and a bit of a scratchy throat, which only really bothers me after my third or fourth class of the day. It's all good in the end.

I interviewed the two kids today who I wanted as my TAs, and managed to nab them both. Louise MacDermott, a twelfth-grader, for my senior assistant, and Devon Harwell (that's a he-Devon, not a she-Devon) as my junior, eleventh-grade assistant. I promptly saddled them both with piles of papers to grade and immediately felt much less pressured. Both of them have histories of not merely good grades, but demonstrated comprehension of the work, and I think they'll be hugely helpful to me. In addition, both of them have plans to study the Animagus transformation as their senior project - mentioned in their files before I came aboard - so I think I can be especially helpful to them both in return.

The books I ordered for Teddy should be here tomorrow. I think - I hope - he'll be delighted by them. Maybe we'll start in on the bookshelf project, if that appeals to him, if Harry's still under the weather come the weekend. If everyone's feeling better by then, perhaps we'll do something together instead. Either way, I think I'll be making an appointment to speak to Headmaster Harpendapple about moving us up - again! - to full-fledged family quarters, one of the little cottages next to the dorms. Not that I want to move again, particularly, nor so soon. But in the almost-week since Teddy's been here, he's slept in his "own bed" once, and the rest of the time been here with Harry and me. Of course, no one was planning on getting sick. Still.

And now it is long past my own bedtime. At least tomorrow is FRIDAY, harbinger of THE WEEKEND. Huzzah.

Sick again today. Same as yesterday: Harry taking my classes, Teddy taking care of me.

We were talking, me and Teddy, and the subject of Animagi came up. I told him that I was one, and... his eyes went impossibly wide in absolute reverence, as if it was the most amazing thing in the world. What animal was I? he asked, and, A gray fox, I told him, and he grew quiet and thoughtful for a moment before mentioning, almost apologetically, that in most cultures' myths and folklore, the fox was seen as clever and cunning, a trickster. Whereupon I reminded him that I had been, after all, a Slytherin; and that seemed to make sense to him, if not ease his mind. I then brought up a couple of other facts about the gray fox, including the fact of its commitment to family - the gray fox, in nature, remains with its mate and cubs until the cubs are ready to leave the nest - and that did seem to ease his mind.

He asked me, very tentatively and politely, if perhaps someday I might not mind transforming so as to show him my animal form? Of course, I realized in the same moment that a Metamorphmagus would understand, as few others would, how tiresome it can be to have people expect you to display your talent upon command. In response, I transformed for him - if I'd been feeling as poorly as yesterday, I wouldn't have risked it, but today I don't feel quite icky enough for transformation to be a danger to me - and his eyes went impossibly wide all over again. "May I touch?" he asked me - another bit of manners I hadn't expected - and so I poked my nose under his wrist so as to flip his hand up and onto my head, which made him laugh. This initiated quite a bit of petting - some wonderful ear scritching and gentle stroking, not one rough or impatient movement - ending in him getting up onto the bed and me draping myself across his lap for a cuddle, also quite nice. In the process, I got a good noseful of Teddy, sniffing him literally from head to toe... so that now, in fox-form, I could find him in a crowd, or figure out where he might have been, or track him over some distance. A good safety precaution, I reckon, in addition to the lightweight tracking spells wizarding parents generally place on their children so as to be able to locate them in an emergency. The thought of Teddy in danger makes me cringe; we must do everything possible to avoid such a thing happening.

Anyway.

Without blowing the surprise, I managed to engage Teddy in a conversation about books, asking if he'd read this one or that, and naming the books (those I could remember offhand) that are at this very moment winging their way to us. It seems that he hasn't read most of them - unsurprising, perhaps, as they're American books, mostly. He has read the Enid Blyton books, but only at the library, he doesn't own copies - and he mentioned wistfully that he wishes he could read them again; and it was all I could do not to punch my fist up into the air and shout, "Yes!" From that bit of conversation, from the way his voice goes all soft and reverent when he's discussing books, from his preferences in subject matter - science fiction and fantasy, mostly, like mine - it seems that with my book purchase, I've managed to nail down a present that Teddy's going to LOVE. I couldn't be more thrilled. Not that I'm wanting to "buy his love" with gifts - the kind of love that can be bought isn't a type of love worth having, and Teddy loves me anyway, I'm quite certain - but I think that receiving a gift of things he adores from his new parent-figure will help cement our relationship: help him feel more secure in a still-new environment (yes, he's visited Harry at the school before - visited; living here is another matter) and make tangible the fact that I care about him and want him to be happy.

So now there's the question of where he's going to put all those books. I was thinking about that yesterday, and it occurred to me that maybe I might build him a bookshelf in woodshop some weekend soon. That maybe Teddy and I could do it together: he can learn how to measure and sand and stain, and we can practice hammering nails together on scrap wood since I'm not much good at it yet myself. The only part of the construction process I wouldn't want him doing is the actual cutting of the wood on the bandsaw, which I would do - or if the table saw was required, I'd ask Farley to do it, as that thing terrifies me! But mostly, it'd be a project we could do together, Teddy and me, and either complete it or mostly complete it within the space of a day - waiting for stain and/or varnish to dry might take an overnight or two - it's something we could share, a kind of "father-son" project, like the way Harry takes Teddy on photographic shoots with him and lets him be his "assistant". And I think that even if woodworking doesn't turn out to be something Teddy's all that interested in, he might enjoy the "togetherness" aspect of the project. I know I would.

And then maybe we can go to the ceramics shop and make bookends for him together. :)

Teddy just came in and scolded me, in a very mature and adult way, for working on the computer instead of getting proper rest. (I've been grading papers on and off.) He's told me that if I'm bored, he'll be happy to read to me, but that I must do everything I can to get well, and that working on my sick day does not qualify. It was all I could do not to laugh - not at him, but at that serious mien on such a little boy. But it wouldn't do to offend his dignity... and he does have a point: he's working quite hard enough to help me get better, with a fresh cup of hot tea every time I need one, bowls of soup, glasses of juice, errand after errand without so much as a breath of complaint, for me to be so casually dismissive of his efforts by working when I should be resting. So I've told him that I'll just finish this one last thing (this entry) and then, if he wouldn't mind terribly, it would be delightful to hear him read to me from So You Want To Be A Wizard by Diane Duane, a Muggle children's book from my own collection which posits a rather different type of wizardry than we experience in our own lives, and follows the tale of two thoroughly modern children as they discover their own powers... I think Teddy will like it. It's a particular favorite of mine, actually. And my eyes are getting swimmy from gazing at the screen, and there's something about that soft little child's voice reading to me, infusing the text with quiet emotion, gliding over the "difficult" words without hesitation, that just soothes my soul.

And here he is, with the book under his arm, and a fresh mug of tea for me. Such a good boy, my little cousin-son.