A/N: I've gotten stuck on one-shots. I keep meaning to work on other things, so naturally one-shots happen instead.

Childlike laughter drifted in through the open kitchen window on a warm summer's breeze. Outside, in Draco Malfoy's backyard, Scor and Al were attempting to teach Draco's youngest child and only daughter, Calista, how to sit on a broom without falling off. Draco himself relaxed in one of the chairs at the breakfast table, keeping a watchful eye on his little girl. Harry Potter sat awkwardly in one of the other chairs, while Astoria made coffee for the three of them. "How's work going?" Astoria asked while the coffee burbled in their coffee maker. It was Harry's first time in the Malfoy house, and the number of Muggle electronics was frankly astonishing.

"It's going well," he said, still feeling awkward. The table had a cheerful flowery tablecloth, and the mug Malfoy held had "World's Best Dad" on it in chipping scrawl. It all felt wrong to him.

"Did you guys catch that wizard who was selling magical artifacts to muggles?" She asked. "He's been causing all sorts of problems for us." Astoria worked in Magical Law, and was primarily responsible for the overhaul of magic law in the last seventeen years. Her work, stressful though it was, barely showed on her face; Harry, on the other hand, had grey hairs scattered all through his dark mop.

"Yes; Ron brought him in earlier this week. He'll be in front of the Wizengamot before the end of next week." Harry felt compelled to fill the empty silence in the kitchen. Draco paid him little mind, his attention focused solely on his daughter, who was squealing something about falling. Harry glanced at her and smiled proudly. Al had her well in hand, his arms solidly around her as Scorpius walked the broom across the yard.

"He's a good kid," Malfoy said, unprompted. Harry turned to look at him, and found Draco giving the group a fond smile.

"They both are," Astoria interjected. "Coffee's up!" She set a mug in front of both of them and took the one Malfoy had been drinking from. "Sweetheart, you drink altogether too much coffee," she said fondly.

Draco leaned back in his chair and looked up at his wife. "If you didn't make such good coffee, I wouldn't have a reason to drink any," he pointed out. Astoria rolled her eyes, kissed him, and grabbed the commuter cup on the counter. "Don't have too much fun at work," he said.

Astoria ruffled his hair and Harry was surprised to see Malfoy leave it that way instead of immediately putting it back how it'd been. "Don't forget to take Scorpius to Diagon Alley for his school supplies, and pick up dessert. Your mother wants us there at seven sharp."

"Go!" Malfoy said with a shooing motion at Astoria. "Work beckons. I'll take care of it. Go!" he repeated. Astoria, with one last glance at her children, left to Floo to the Ministry. "I take it you don't have work today?" Malfoy asked Harry after the fireplace whooshed to life.

Harry shrugged. "I'm on holiday. Ginny's got a game over on the continent so I'm in charge of the kids until she gets back."

"I thought she was retired?" Malfoy asked. Despite his relaxed pose, his attention was focused on his child; Harry suspected that, if something were to happen to little Calista, Draco would be outside before Harry could think about moving. "Passed on the torch, so to speak."

"It's a journalism gig, she's taking a bit of vacation over in France to visit Fleur and Bill while she's at it. She only plays pickup games at the Burrow now."

Draco nodded. He picked up his mug, cradling it in his hands. Despite the warmth of the day, he was wearing a grey button down, the sleeves buttoned loosely around his wrists. "Scorpius has mentioned those. Apparently somebody named Molly has been teaching him the finer points of chasing."

"That'd be Percy's oldest daughter. She plays for the Holyhead Harpies."

Draco looked impressed. "He's been playing with actual Quidditch players? He didn't mention that."

"And Angelica Johnson, when she's there."

"Right. I remember her from school," Draco said. Harry tried the coffee; it tasted like coffee, which at least wasn't a surprise. He really didn't get why people drank the stuff. "What team does she play for now?"

"She's coaching the Wimbledon Wasps at the moment, but she's thinking of retiring soon." Harry tried to relax, but years of being unable to trust Malfoys made it hard. At least with Astoria there he had somebody to talk to that wasn't a born and bred maniac. Not that Malfoy was anymore; Harry at least could trust him enough to allow Al over at their place, but his son wasn't allowed at the Manor. Not while Lucius Malfoy still walked the earth.

"That'll be a shame for the quidditch world," Draco said. "She's an impressive player, from what I recall."

"Definitely," Harry agreed fervently. A girlish shriek drew both of their attentions to the window. Al was slowly pulling his arms away and Calista gripped the broom with a white-knuckled grip, but she was staying on the broom all on her own.

"I'm doing it!" she squealed. The boys cheered her on and moved slowly away from the window.

"Is this her first time on a broom?" Harry asked for lack of anything better to talk about. Their pasts were out, their wives counted as gossip, and Harry didn't particularly want to discuss his job with a man who by all rights probably should be in Azkaban. Or at least belonged there about twenty years in the past. Kids were the only safe topic he could think of.

"You'd think so, but no," Draco said ruefully. "To think a child of mine didn't come out of the womb ready to fly…it's a saddening prospect." At Harry's odd look, he added, "I'm being sarcastic. Astoria says I need to make it more obvious when I do that."

"I know what you mean," Harry said to get past Malfoy's comment. "I always kind of thought Al might take after me and be a seeker, but while he plays pretty well at the Burrow, he refuses to go out for it at school." That had always somewhat bothered him; as a child, Al had always been kind of a Harry clone, but as he got older he was growing up into a young man that Harry would always be proud of, but that made Harry wonder if he'd done something wrong. Not that Al was wrong, but he sometimes didn't see things the way Harry thought he would.

"Does your oldest son play?"

"James? No. There's no way any professor at Hogwarts would let him near a quidditch pitch. He'd get kicked off the team for misbehavior." Harry surprised himself with how promptly and honestly he answered the question. It was true, though. James was a bit of a troublemaker, and egged on by his cousins. Harry couldn't even begin to count the number of letters he'd gotten from the school about James' behavior. "Lily, on the other hand, might make a fine keeper someday. Ron would love that, neither of his kids play." At first he regretted mentioning Ron again; Scorpius was doing a lot to change Ron's opinion of Malfoy but he still hated the man and Harry was sure the feeling was mutual.

"I'm not surprised. Rose tends to mother the boys when they're being reckless, that kind of personality doesn't lend itself well to the risks of quidditch." In the yard, Calista picked up a little bit of speed. Al had procured another broom and was riding alongside the nine year old while Scorpius lounged under a tree and watched. Malfoy's eyes followed the girl around; Al was doing well to keep her in sight of the window.

A phone rang somewhere in the house, startling Harry. Malfoy set his mug down and left the kitchen. A moment later, a murmur of his voice drifted back to the kitchen. Malfoy returned after a moment, with a camera in hand. "You own a muggle telephone?" Harry asked.

"We're in a muggle city, we do muggle things. It's useful," he said with a shrug. "We've also got a car."

"Imagine that," Harry said. "Never would have seen that coming."

Draco grinned despite Harry's comment. "You think that's strange? Imagine Father's reaction. 'Why do you need these muggle contraptions?'" Draco said in a perfect imitation of Lucius Malfoy. "'You're raising the boy to be a pushover!'"

Harry snorted; the imitation was spot on. "Does it cause problems?"

"No, not that Father really means it, he loves Scorpius in his own way. He's stuck in the past. Mother doesn't allow him to bully us about it though. He rarely complains about it these days. After sixteen years, he's gotten somewhat used to it."

Harry sat quietly, absorbing Malfoy's comment. Narcissa Malfoy…now there was a woman to be reckoned with, under the right circumstances. "Did you know your mother saved my life once?" Harry asked, forgetting about his resolve to not talk about the past.

Draco looked curiously at him and set the camera he'd brought down on the table. "When was that?" His voice betrayed no emotion other than open curiosity; again, Harry was struck by how odd Malfoy was acting. Admittedly, it had been a long time since they'd been children in school, but an open and caring Draco Malfoy was something to get used to.

"During the final battle. Voldemort sent her to see if I was dead. She asked if you were alive and I told her you were at the castle; she told Voldemort I was dead. If she hadn't…"

Draco rubbed his left forearm. "I didn't know that," he said softly. "I guess we've all got our secrets about that day."

Harry, suddenly desperate for a reason to change the subject, gestured at the camera. "What's that for?"

"Oh, that. For the kids," Malfoy said. He moved to the window and snapped a couple pictures of the three; Calista was moving faster now and giggling madly.

"She looks like she's doing pretty good," Harry said. "Who knows, maybe she'll play for her House someday."

"I hope so, but at the same time, I don't." Draco settled back into his chair.

"Why's that?"

Draco sighed. "I loved playing; flying has always been something I've turned to when I need some time to think, and quidditch is fun. I would love to see her enjoy it like I did, but at the same time, it can be pretty violent. I don't want to see her get hurt."

Harry grinned at a sudden memory of his arm, floppy and boneless, after one such game. "What?" Draco asked.

"Do you remember that game, second year, when that enchanted bludger broke my arm and Lockheart vanished all the bones in my arm?"

Draco snorted. "I always wondered about that. What was up with that bludger anyways?"

"Oh, Dobby enchanted it to try and scare me away from Hogwarts to keep me safe."

Draco startled. "Dobby? Our house elf?"

Harry nodded. "He did his best to keep me safe."

"What ever happened to him?" Draco took a couple more pictures of Calista and piled the prints on the table between them.

"He's buried on the French coast. He died rescuing us from the Manor." The memory of that still stung. Poor Dobby…every year Harry made the trip out there to visit his grave.

"Oh. I'm sorry." Draco looked down at his lap, his hands clasped loosely on his knee. "There's a lot of things I'm sorry for. I don't know if I ever said that to you. I don't know if it even means anything, at this point. But I regret all of it."

Harry, who'd often thought about what he'd say to Draco Malfoy in this situation, let his own guilt speak for him instead of his immediate desire to say something stupid. "We've all made our mistakes," he said. Visions of the Creevey brothers, Fred Weasley, and all of the others who'd died for him rose up in the back of his mind. "But you've done a good job raising Scorpius right, if that's any consolation. Spending the rest of your life regretting your past won't really help."

Draco sat quietly for a few minutes. Harry couldn't help but feel like a weight had been lifted from the other man. "You know, I've often thought that," he said. "That maybe by raising my children right, to teach respect and honesty and morals, that would somehow make up for my own failings. I don't think it does, but it's a start."

Harry thought about what he could say to that; in all honesty, there wasn't much anybody could do to make up for their mistakes during the war. "I think it says more about you than you think it does," Harry said. "It's not been easy to raise my own kids without exposing them to everything we did."

Draco cocked an eyebrow, his expression bemused. "You? You saved the world."

"I had to kill and injure people to do it and people were killed and injured for helping me. How can I explain that to Al? Who's named for two people who died for me?"

Draco nodded. "I never looked at it that way. You're right." He heaved a sigh. "It's not easy, that's for sure. It never will be. Maybe a hundred years down the road, it won't be so bad."

He turned back to the window, but the kids were gone from the yard. A door slammed somewhere in the house and Draco visibly relaxed. He let out a short laugh and stood up to put his mug in the sink. "I love seeing Calista learn to fly, but it still scares me," he said. "I don't know how I'm going to let her leave for Hogwarts."

Harry laughed too. "Lily just got back from her first year. It's a pretty nerve wracking experience. With the boys, I wasn't so worried, but there's something about your daughter going away for the first time that's scarier than just about anything else."

"At least Lily's got your older boys to keep an eye on her. I'm sure that's some comfort."

"Well…Al, at least. James is as likely to get her into trouble as he is himself."

Draco snorted. "So…he's like you?"

Harry almost took offense to that, but he realized Draco was poking fun at him. "Yeah, well, half of that was your fault."

Draco shrugged, grinning, and opened his mouth to say something when his daughter bounded into the kitchen. "Daddy! Did you see me? I flew by myself!" The nine year old bounced over to Draco and threw her arms around him. Al and Scorpius wandered into the kitchen behind him.

"I did! You were fantastic," Draco said. His face lit up, matching Calista's entirely. Harry was struck by how similar they looked; Scorpius looked like his family, but not like a smaller version of Draco. Calista could have passed for Draco's twin, only with baby fat and a much more exuberant personality. As if hearing his thoughts, Calista turned to look at Harry and stopped dead.

"Dad!" she whispered, still staring at Harry. "Dad, that's Harry Potter!"

Draco smiled and ruffled his daughter's hair. "I know, sweetie."

"Dad, Harry Potter's in our kitchen!" Calista's blue eyes widened and she tugged at Draco's hand. "Dad, do you think he'll sign my chocolate frog card?" Behind them, Harry heard the boys muffle their laughter.

Draco's eyes met Harry's over the top of Calista's head. Harry nodded and Draco gently pushed his daughter towards Harry. "Why don't you ask him?" he suggested.

Calista whirled around and stared at Harry again. "Um," she said, glancing back at Draco, "Will you sign my card? Please?"

Harry was hard-pressed not to laugh himself. Amused, he smiled, and said, "Of course I will."

Without another word, Calista raced out of the kitchen; the boys dodged her path and came around to join their fathers at the table. Draco glanced at Scorpius, who was grinning broadly. "What?" he asked.

"Calista did really well," Scorpius said. "You didn't see it but she actually managed to get up a little speed. Maybe we can actually teach her to play quidditch soon!"

"Baby steps," Harry said. "You have to learn to walk before you can run."

Al and Scorpius snorted in unison. "Right, says the guy who learned to fly and joined the quidditch team in the space of about a minute and a half," Al said. "You're one to talk."

Harry's undoubtedly snappy retort was cut short by the return of Calista, out of breath and wielding a Chocolate frog card and a quill. "Here!" she announced. "I brought a quill!" She thrust them both at him, so excited that she couldn't stand still. To Harry's right, he heard the boys muttered whispering of "Does she know who my dad is?" and "I thought she did…I guess not".

In his best handwriting, Harry carefully wrote 'To Calista' and underneath that, 'Harry Potter, the boy who lived'. He handed the card to Calista, who immediately handed it to Draco. "Look, Dad! Now all I need is Ron Weasley's and my collection will be complete!"

Over her head, Harry cocked an inquisitive eyebrow at Draco, who shrugged and returned the card to his daughter. "Why don't you go put it in your collection, sweetheart? I'm sure Mom will love to see it when she gets home from work."

"Oh! I didn't think of that! Mom will be super impressed, she won't even know what to say." The little girl triumphantly left, the card held delicately in hand. Al and Scorpius immediately broke out in barely concealed laughter.

"Hey, be nice," Draco ordered. "You were the same way when you first met Mr. Potter too. Yelled right across Kings Cross, at the top of your lungs-"

"I know, Dad!" Scorpius turned red. It had been only a short two years since that, but the memory made Harry snicker. "You don't need to bring that up."

"Then don't make fun of your sister." His job done, Draco shooed the boys out of the kitchen. "Why don't you work on your summer homework?" He suggested. "I'm sure I've still got my old books here somewhere-" Before he could finish, Al and Scorpius had vacated the kitchen with such speed that the papers on the countertop rustled. Draco smiled smugly.

"You said that on purpose!" Harry, astonished, stared at the first familiar Malfoy expression he'd seen since joining the man at his breakfast table. Draco shrugged, still grinning, and sat back in chair. "Why did you do that?"

"I was enjoying our conversation before the kids came in." Draco looked at him, still smug, and Harry was forced to admit to himself that he'd been enjoying it too. Who'd have thought that? Then again, Malfoy had changed significantly. Not that that should come as a surprise, Harry thought; it'd been over twenty years since their time at Hogwarts. Harry had changed a lot and it stood to reason that Malfoy would too. "Oh, thanks for humoring Calista. She's enamored with you three and has been waiting for your signature to round off her collection."

"And Ron's, it sounded like."

Draco shrugged. "I haven't let her ask- I'm not sure he'd be willing to do it. I don't want him upsetting my daughter."

"I don't blame you. I could get him to sign it though, if she's got the card," Harry volunteered. Ron, despite going through the same twenty years of adulthood as the rest of them, still felt that the Malfoys were out to get the entire wizarding world. He grudgingly accepted Scorpius, who to his credit made sure he was always on his best behavior around Ron, especially if Rose happened to be nearby. The kids were all great friends, but Ron wasn't fazed by that. Until recently, Ron had been convinced that Scorpius was out to get them all. Harry suspected a little bit of daughter-inspired wifely interference had to do with his change of tune. "Or if you catch him in public, he won't say no. Hermione would never let him live that down."

They settled into a surprisingly companionable silence; birds tweeted outside in the trees, a bee buzzed into the window screen, and Harry felt like something had shifted. Gone was the smirking, coiffed Malfoy brat. In his place, astonishingly, was a husband, a parent, and a pretty alright guy, who encouraged his children to collect Chocolate Frog cards and who owned a muggle car.

Eventually, Al came back down and reminded Harry that they were supposed to go to Diagon Alley that afternoon. Draco showed them to the foyer and again Harry was reminded how small the house was; it couldn't have been any larger than his own house and was utterly unlike he'd thought it would be when he'd come over to drop off Al. "Thanks for the coffee," Harry said, his mind blanking on anything else to say. "It's been…good to talk to you, Malfoy."

Draco smiled and held out his hand. "Please, call me Draco. It's about time we're on a first name basis."

Harry took his hand, for the second time, and shook it firmly. "Then call me Harry."

Al, only partially aware of their previous animosity, settled the moment with a cheerful "See you around, Mr. Malfoy!" Draco waved them off and Harry, hand on Al's shoulder, Apparated them away.