Title: Pride and Joy
Disclaimer: J.K Rowling and associates own these characters and universe. I am writing this for fun and make no profit from it.
Pairing: Most canon pairings (RW/HG, HP/GW) with future HP/DM.
Rating: Rated M for swearing, violence, sex.
Content Notes: Ginny bashing. Violence, Angst, Friendship, Fluff, Parent Harry.
Summary: Harry thought he knew where he was going after the war. It was like a red carpet; all laid out in front of him. He got the girl, the house, the job, the friends, the family. But somewhere along the line, cracks began to appear, and things weren't as they seemed. Ginny was no longer the doe-eyed girl he knew, the job became routine, the friends were moving on... the only thing that stayed the same were his boys. So during a bitter divorce, Harry takes it upon himself to apply for the Elites. An extended arm of the ministry, the Elites were the best of the best. It would bring some excitement back into his ever spiralling life. It was the only way he could go, the only way he wanted to go - until, of course, he was told that the Elites worked in pairs. Partners. And his partner? Of course it would be Draco fucking Malfoy.
Author's Notes: I have had this story on my computer for nearly six years now... I wrote it during a bad time, when I moved to uni and away from my family. I have two nieces, and at the time they were the same age as the boys in this story. I took a lot of their character from my girls. It was a huge comfort to me, and every time I read it, it makes me feel better. I haven't wanted to share it online because I was afraid of how people would react to it. It means a lot to me, but getting feedback and sharing my work with others means a lot too. So I've finally posted it. This is a lot of fun to write, so please, I would appreciate R&R on this one. Updates biweekly (every 2 weeks). Please check my profile for updates.

Pride and Joy

Chapter One - Bye, Baby, Bye

"You… are you serious? Are you fucking kidding me?"

The small audience in the room flinched back from his tone. He ground his teeth in a bid to stop himself from flipping the table. He could smell the faint whiff of a Calming Candle and that angered him even more. If they expected him to flip, then why the hell put him in the situation in the first place?

He made sure that the sconces on the wall flickered with his magic as he set his dark eyes on each person.

The first, Eleanor Brickback, Head Auror of Technical and Tactics. She had wispy brown hair sprinkled with grey, pulled back in a strict, unflattering bun. Her eyes were cast downwards as she twiddled her fingers on her lap, but he felt a small lick of satisfaction as she squirmed under his gaze.

The second sat in the middle of the long table facing him, Kingsley Shacklebolt. Minister of Magic. He kept his steady gaze on Harry, but there were small beads of sweat lining his dark lip.

The third, Richard Samms, Auror Chief. A bulky man with oddly big hands. He had a hard, lined face, and he was the only one who didn't seem nervous. Instead, he almost seemed amused. Harry sneered. The bastard had it out for him since he took over Shacklebolt's job. He was probably loving this.

And fourth, Brenda May. She was a pretty one. Soft on the eyes but deadly with a wand. She was Harry's superior, Head Auror of Frontal Assault and Assessment. Her blue eyes flickered back and forth to Harry and the man set to his left.

Harry settled his gaze on the prat next to him. The one who was now, apparently, his partner. Draco Fucking Malfoy.

Of all the people who had been promoted to the Elites, it had to be Draco Malfoy.

A new wave of anger spiked him and a few of the candles actually went out. The four people sat opposite him all took a collective breath of air. It was true, Harry wanted to blast them to bits, but since they were the biggest bosses in the Ministry of Magic, he guessed that they wouldn't appreciate it.

Finally, Kingsley cleared his throat.

"Auror Potter, you have been given an opportunity that most men and women will never achieve. To be accepted into the Elites is to be the highest, most respected Auror in the business."

He snorted. It wasn't as if he hadn't slaved day and night for this job. He lived and breathed it, having to prove himself ten times more than anyone else, because he was The Saviour and because people like Samms thought he was born with a silver spoon in his gob.

"If you do not wish this promotion, Mr Potter, then we can renounce your application and you can return back to your previous position."

He glared at Brickback and she took a shaky breath.

Samms was openly smirking at him now. Harry sent him his most heated, most venomous glare. He was glad that the man flinched, if only for a second.

Malfoy had remained perfectly still. Harry wondered if he was just as pissed, or if he was glad of the opportunity to sabotage Harry's career. He shot the man a glance, but his silver eyes were sealed by thick platinum lashes. For a moment Harry wondered if he had passed out – then he decided that he really didn't give a rat's arse.

"So, what you're saying, is that either I partner with Malfoy or I don't get into the Elites?"

The room went eerily silent. He wasn't even sure if people were breathing.

Then a slow, predatory smile crept over Samms's face and Harry knew. He barely contained his outburst, but he felt his cheeks flush from the exertion. Samms raised his head and jutted his chin forward, his eyes glinting with the challenge.

Harry channelled all his will and forced a smile. He saw Shacklebolt's eyes widen slightly before he coughed and regained his composure.

"Fine."

Malfoy finally moved.

He saw the bastard jerk and then his blond head snap up, no doubt to glare at Harry. But Harry was done. He was exhausted, physically and mentally, and all he wanted to do was go home.

With all the grace he could muster, which wasn't much, he got to his feet and stalked from the room, slamming the door nicely behind him. Just as he got to his office to get his outer robe, a figure loomed in the doorway. Harry raised his head wearily.

"You alright, mate? Look like you've been through hell."

Harry sighed heavily. "You have no fucking idea."

Ron walked into the room easily, closing the door behind him and then perching on the edge of Harry's desk. Harry sat down in his chair and leant back, weaving his fingers together and then covering his eyes as if he could block out the day's events.

"What happened? Didn't you get it?"

Harry laughed humourlessly.

"Oh, I got it. I also got a new partner. Guess who it is?"

At Ron's blank gaze, Harry frowned. So, it wasn't common knowledge, then. Ron was always the first to know if someone was going to turn on Harry. How he knew, Harry never asked, but Ron was an endless source of the Harry Sucks gossip well.

"It's Malfoy."

Ron blanched. Then bright red splodges spread across his cheeks, the way they did when he got really angry. Harry felt his stomach tighten at the familiar sight.

The redhead's sister had inherited that particular Weasley trait, and he had seen quite enough of Ginny's angry face to last a lifetime.

"Mal… Malfoy? As in Draco Malfoy?"

Harry nodded, turning his eyes to the blank ceiling so that he didn't have to focus.

"What… why – they… the bastards!"

Harry just nodded again, recognising the anger in his best friend's tone. He could only imagine what Hermione was going to say. Harry decided to let her husband tell her.

The next few minutes went quickly. Harry nodded and agreed with Ron's outbursts, then his vows of revenge, then his sincere apologies. Finally, he was able to get away. He walked through the Atrium quickly, but the glances his way told him that the news was out. No doubt the morning paper would have the front-page scoop of the situation. He shuddered, glad that tomorrow was his day off.

Maybe he'd go to the Bahamas for the day.

But as if being told he was partner with Draco Malfoy for possibly the remainder of his career wasn't bad enough, then the moment Harry stepped into his apartment he was met with an angry pair of familiar brown eyes was pure hell. He sighed.

"Ginny."

"Harry." Her tone was levelled, but the red splotches dotted her cheeks.

He groaned, wondering what had happened now. The divorce settlement had been negotiated, but Ginny kept finding things of his to take. Wasn't it bad enough she had the house, the summer house, half his bank and even their owl?

"Harry plans have changed. The trip me and mum were going on next month has been cancelled."

Harry couldn't help the wash of regret that coloured his cheeks. He saw Ginny's eyes darken and he knew she'd noticed. He was looking forward to a month without her harassment. Granted, he had the kids for the month and that was a little scary, considering he was on his own, but he'd survive. Hermione rocked bath time.

He opened his mouth to offer his apologies when he caught a glimpse of something in the corner of his eye.

Then that thing bounded into the living room and wrapped itself around his legs.

"Daddy!"

Harry smiled as he reached down and scooped up the bundle that was his firstborn. James wrapped his small arms around Harry's neck and the Auror Elite gave himself a minute to enjoy his son's love. It was short-lived.

"We've had to move the trip to tomorrow."

Harry's face dropped. James nattered in his ears about something, but he couldn't hear him. All he could see was the trunk at Ginny's feet – the trunk he hadn't noticed before. Then he saw the pram by the door and a pair of curious eyes looking up at him from the centre.

"Wh… what the fuck, Gin?"

She frowned. "Don't swear in front of James."

Harry turned on her, ready to show her his whole array of swear words when James started chanting 'fuck' in his ear. He sighed and put the boy down, where he immediately raced across the living room and towards the fireplace. He barely had a moment to grab the boy before he tripped in.

"Harry, you know how much I need to get away. Mum thought it was better just to leave now or else I'll have to deal with all the papers and the interviews. You owe me this much."

Harry saw red. He owed her? The woman who had not only broken their vows but also nearly let James get hurt?

"Ginny, you better leave. Now."

Her face paled, but she nodded, swooping down to peck James on the cheek and then walked to the pram where she did the same to Albus. Then she gave Harry a sheepish glance before waving her wand and Apparating.

The room was spinning for a moment. He walked absently to the kitchen with James sat on his hip.

"Daddy, where's mummy gone?"

Harry set his jaw but steadied himself enough to answer.

"On holiday with Nanny."

"Nanny! Nanny's gone on holiday?"

He just nodded, reaching up into his cupboard and fumbling around until he found a bottle. He filled it quickly with some orange juice – the only drink in his kitchen at that moment – before giving it to the boy. Then he heard a small cry and his heart felt like it was going to explode. He sat James on the couch, enchanting the book on his coffee table to dance before hurrying over to Albus.

"Hey, hey, shush shush shush, it's OK, it's fine," he cooed, pulling the stuffy robes off the baby before bouncing him slightly.

He felt a small smile tug at his lips as he studied the babe. Alby had Harry's jet-black hair, and, it's uncanny ability to look constantly messy. It stuck out in all directions and his green eyes looked around the flat blearily.

Harry moved slowly back into the living room, watching as James squealed in delight at the dancing book. Apparently now it could sing, and James sang along. The boy didn't know the words, but he picked up the tune pretty easily. Harry sat on the couch heavily, feeling the warmth of Alby on his chest and then of James as he snuggled into his side.

He closed his eyes, enjoying the brief moment of silence while it lasted. Because, with an adventurous three-year-old and a bad-tempered one-year-old, shit was going to hit the fan.

And sure enough, two seconds later, Alby screamed as James tried to climb onto Harry's chest, but he stopped him before James could hit the baby back. Harry felt the burning of a tension headache just as he pulled James away from another swipe by Albus.


The cold air hit him in a rush and Draco tugged his robes tighter around himself. The street he stood in was dimly lit and his breath swirled around him like white smoke. He shivered before starting down the street.

He was in a smaller part of Wizarding London, and quite a nice part it seemed. The pavement wasn't cracked, and the hedges neatly trimmed.

The buildings were nice, too. Tall and red-bricked, they loomed over him like graceful amendments to the scrubs that was lower Wizarding London. He half expected Potter's flat to be in a remote, desolate plain with no one in sight for miles. That was what the papers said about him, anyway.

He walked quickly to the tall building. It must have easily been ten stories high. He stopped outside the caller and saw Potter's name scrawled across the third button from the top.

Draco was impressed. Not only was Potter in a nice neighbourhood, but a nice flat too.

One slender finger hovered over the button but stopped short of pressing it. From the Gryffindor's reaction earlier, the chances of him actually letting Draco in were slim. So instead he pressed another one and smiled when a female voice answered.

Using all his manipulation techniques, he managed to convince the woman to buzz him in. He felt the tickle of wards against his skin as he stepped through the threshold, and he felt their power humming in the walls. Well, he supposed if the apartment housed the Saviour of the Wizarding World, there needed to be some damn strong protection.

Draco moved quickly to the lift, a little jump in his step as he went.

True, hearing he was paired with the Golden Prat wasn't the greatest news in his life, although hearing he got into the Elites was. It was more than he had imagined he would ever achieve.

After the war, he had been shunned, forced to Australia with his parents for a year before he finally had enough of tea parties and blistering heat. And those damned spiders. He shuddered.

No, England was and always would be his home. He had found a little place on the outskirts as the Manor had been seized, along with the majority of their accounts. Thankfully his father was paranoid and had set a couple of overseas accounts up in a different name. Draco had been given one and told that 'once it was gone, it's gone'.

He'd not been willingly accepted in London. A lot of them shunned him, which was to be expected, but then it still pissed him off. His name had been cleared in the trials, so technically he should have been allowed to work. No one would take him, not even a lousy chippy.

Draco was about to admit defeat when he received a letter from the Ministry. He'd gone there and met with Eleanor Brickback, Head of Tactics in the Aurors.

She had seen his application to the Aurors, one that he had submitted as a joke, and was interested in recruiting him. He had thought it to be a piss take, obviously, until she explained that an Auror's job was to intercept crime and criminals, and as Draco had seen the face of evil, believed he had some kind of valuable insight. The branch she asked him to join was what he considered the Thinking Force. He'd been trained in subtlety, discretion and diplomacy rather than the brute force of the Meat Crew. No surprise that Potter was in the meat headed department.

Of course, the training was hell. He had learned some valuable hexes while there, though. Especially a Thieving Hex as people liked to steal his clothes while he was in the shower. The hex not only made sure his clothes were unharmed, but they choked the thief when they touched them.

One Auror had learned that the hard way. He hadn't died, but he got some pretty bruises.

Draco smiled at the fond memory. He'd got his comrades' respect eventually, although some very begrudgingly. He had more to prove than the others, but he never failed to do so.

Now he was in the Elites and he had to work with fucking Potter. He groaned as he stepped out of the lift and into a brightly lit hallway. The lights bobbed in the ceiling and got brighter as he walked underneath. Clever little things they were. A Double Lighting spell. They would light the path as people moved under them, but also go dark when a wizard with bad intentions walked through. Then they would shrill in alarm and bind themselves around said, person.

He was more than a little surprised that they let him pass. He didn't have bad intentions, per say, but he did intend to jab at Potter just for the hell of it.

They also had a meeting in the morning with the other Elite recruits which Potter hadn't been informed of due to his brisk departure. He also just wanted to see Potter's face when he realised that Draco knew where he lived.

As he raised his knuckles to the door, he frowned. Why did he know that?

Keep your enemies closer. Yeah, that was it.

His hand was a bit unsteady as it rapped on the polished white wood. He heard some kind of commotion inside before a shrill cry. Draco moved his fingers against his wrist where the tip of his wand sat in the bracer.

Then the door was wrenched open and Draco's jaw hit the floor.

Potter stood before him, completely ruffled. If he didn't have a baby sat on his hip, then Draco would have sworn the Saviour had just been doing something amorous. The sight wasn't a bad one and it sent a little flutter to Draco's stomach.

The black mass of hair was stuck up at the back and dampened at the front. His muggle t-shirt was creased and pulled up around the side, revealing a slice of tanned skin. His dark jeans were wet as well, and Potter's face was a little pale. His lips were red and eyes wide, flashing dark emeralds under long lashes.

The baby blew its lips, drawing Draco's attention. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. The baby couldn't be that old, but it was Potter's clone. The same messy black mop, same long eyelashes and bright green eyes.

It was also half dressed.

"Malfoy?"

Draco frowned when he didn't hear the familiar contempt in Potter's tone. Instead, he just sounded… tired?

"Uh…"

Before Draco could think of a word, a flash behind Potter caught his attention and the Saviour turned, reaching forward but missing. Then he was gone, leaving Draco to peer in. He barely heard a quick "James!" before the said child raced past the door. Draco sniggered as he saw the kids bare bum and then Potter was running forward again, trying to catch the little blighter.

Then Potter stopped at the door.

"Hey Malfoy, how are you with kids?"

Draco opened his mouth, to reply or gape he wasn't sure before the Potter clone was thrust into his arms. He barely got a hold before Potter waved him in, slammed the door and ran after the other one.

"Da da da da da!"

He turned to the baby who was chewing its own fingers before adjusting the thing better on his hip.

Looking around the hallway, Draco walked cautiously further into the apartment. There was an archway to his left that led into a fair-sized living room, which would have been nice if there wasn't a multitude of junk strewn over every surface. It was a mixture of baby things and adult clothing, which he assumed was Potter's. There was an open trunk on the living room rug by a beautifully carved white marble fireplace. The colour scheme wasn't hard to look at either, even though it was hidden by the mess.

He walked further down the corridor, seeing another archway to the right the led to washing room.

The hallway then opened into a lovely circular space with a small chandelier. He studied it, impressed before a squeal to the right caught his eye. There was a flash of pale skin before the other child sprinted from an open door.

Not really thinking, Malfoy got to his knees and held out his unoccupied arm in time to catch the fast little thing. He wrapped his arm around it before frowning. The bloody thing was wet. It laughed in his ear and started to retaliate before Potter came marching out.

He threw Malfoy a thankful look and then grabbed the boy.

"Right! I've had enough! Come on, back to the bath!"

The boy screamed and kicked, but Potter managed to get a good hold on him before carrying him back into the bathroom. There was a splash and another squeal, then all went strangely quiet. Hoping that Potter hadn't drowned the brat, Malfoy got steadily to his feet.

The baby had occupied itself with pawing at the clasp that held his robes over his shoulders. Draco tsked before gently removing the fingers. He rethought that option as the baby screeched and then grabbed it again.

He sighed, resigning himself to the pawing, before walking around the flat.

It was nice or would be if it wasn't so messy. A master bedroom that he only glanced at. A kitchen that rivalled the Manor, with a multitude of cupboards and contraptions, and a nice sized breakfast island in the middle.

As he made his way back to the living room, he felt a little shiver go through the baby. It was only then that he remembered the Mini-Potter was half dressed. He was wearing a baby grow but only a pair of pyjama bottoms.

A quick search through the rooms found the matching top, and he grimaced as he saw a golden snitch on the front. The colour was also hauntingly Gryffindor red. He rolled his eyes before sitting heavily on the couch. It was quite comfy, and he would have happily leant back but the baby had other ideas, crawling up and onto his chest.

Draco then began the struggle of getting the little thing into the top. It was harder than he thought it would be, mostly due to his inexperience and the fragile limbs of the baby.

He was actually afraid that he would break something if he moved too quickly.

By the time the little thing was dressed, its cheeks were red, and it cried without abandon. Draco winced as the pitch got louder before he saw a dummy on the coffee table. Praying silently that the dummy was for the baby, he shoved it into the open gob.

And there was silence.

Draco gave a heavy sigh of relief before melting back into the cushions. The baby shuffled itself further onto his chest and then lay his head on Draco's shoulder. It was a strange feeling, and the baby radiated a lot more warmth than he thought it would. He sat perfectly still, hoping the thing wouldn't cry again.

Then, mere minutes later, he felt the baby's breathing calm into a gentle rhythm and he laughed silently when he saw those long lashes were closed.


"There. All done."

Harry felt his shoulders slump as James sprang up again, charging from the bathroom and no doubt into the living room where-

Oh, my God. I've just left my infant son with Draco Malfoy.

Harry scrambled to his feet and charged through the hallway, convinced he was about to find a note telling him that Albus had been kidnapped and demanding a ludicrous amount of money. He was going to kill Malfoy. He would hunt him down and strip his flesh from the bone-

Harry went rigid.

The living room was exactly how he left it, except for the fact that Malfoy was now sitting on one of his sofas, clutching Albus to his chest with his left arm and reaching out to James with his right. James was still naked, and wet, but completely oblivious to those factors. He nattered to Malfoy who just watched him. When he noticed Harry standing dumbly in the archway, one single pale eyebrow swept upwards and a smirk played on his lips.

He didn't expect Malfoy to still be here. He also didn't think that Malfoy would seem almost… natural. Around children. Harry's children.

"…then the bird landed, yeah. It went on road, nearly got hit by the car. It did!"

Malfoy turned back to James and Harry swore he saw his features soften slightly.

"Did it?"

James nodded his head furiously. "It did! Nearly got hit by a car!"

"Well it's good that it didn't then, isn't it?"

James smiled and nodded again, crawling onto the sofa and planting himself next to Malfoy.

"What's your name?" he asked quietly, brushing a pattern on Malfoy's sleeve.

"Draco."

"Raco?"

Harry snickered, drawing both sets of eyes back to him. James smiled and started to chant the name while Malfoy's eyes darkened in their usual manner. He gave Malfoy a sarcastic grin before marching forward. James laughed as he reached down.

"No daddy! Don't wanna go bed!"

"Sorry sweet, but you have to. And I'm sure Draco doesn't want to look at your bare bum all night."

James squealed as Harry picked him up and blew raspberries on his bare stomach. Harry only barely registered the unfamiliar feel of Malfoy's name on his tongue as James's squeals got louder. The sound soon got to Albus, who stirred against Malfoy's chest. Harry sighed and carried James over to the trunk. If he put him down now, then he'd just start running again. Winding him up wouldn't be the smartest thing.

He heard a shushing noise and choked on his own tongue when he looked back to see Malfoy rocking back and forth, running his hand up and down Albus's (dressed?) back. He shook off his confusion in time to grab James before he bolted. He quickly dug through the trunk and found a clean nappy and a set of pyjamas.

Throwing James over his shoulder, he carried him through to the spare room. He sighed as he looked around it. It was only half done. He wanted to have it decorated for the boys when they came to him next month. Now things had obviously changed.

Harry swallowed back his anger enough to grab the towel that had been strewn on the floor in the half-finished room. He quickly scrubbed James, making him giggle when he ruffled his hair.

Unlike Albus, James's hair was a dark brown, which sometimes looked red in the light. He had Ginny's warm brown eyes, too. But the hair still stuck out in all directions. He smiled as he sat on the edge of the small bed, laying the boy across his lap and starting on his pyjamas. While he worked quickly, he kept the boy occupied by singing him a nursery rhyme he heard Aunt Petunia sing to Dudley once.

"Twinkle, twinkle little star. How I wonder what you are…"

James watched him with wondrous fascination, the way only a child could do, and Harry felt himself smile. Just as he finished pulling up his bottoms, James's eyes started to get heavy. Harry slowly moved him along with his own body until the two of them were lying on the bed. James snuggled as close to Harry as he could get, and within five minutes his breathing had evened out.

Harry smiled, watching that beautiful face sleep. James was a little monster, but he was so wonderful and full of life.

It made Harry so achingly sad to think about what the boys were going through. Yes, they were young, and they didn't understand all the bureaucratic shit that came with a divorce. All they knew was that mummy and daddy lived together, woke up together, played with them in the day, sang songs. Now mummy wasn't with daddy in the morning, and the house was different. He dreaded the day James would turn around and say, "why don't you live with Mummy anymore?"

Harry wasn't sure what had happened. One minute they were fine, the next minute he found Ginny locked in the bathroom with James in the cupboard about to drink bleach.

Now he didn't know what the hell was going on. Someone had possessed the woman he loved and adored and turned her into the ultimate money-digging-

He cut the thought off quickly. My wife is not a bitch, my wife is not a bitch.

Harry stifled a sigh.

The hardest thing to believe was that Ginny really was a bitch.


Draco tried not to fidget impatiently.

Was Potter every going to come back and reclaim the brat that was now drooling on his hundred galleon robes?

His whole plan of viciously teasing the Saviour for his own satisfaction was quickly dissolving unless he could get a jab in before dark.

Another five minutes later and he was done. Getting to his feet with all the grace he could muster, which wasn't much considering he was juggling an infant, Draco marched swiftly towards the first room he could see. It was the master room, and devoid of any kind of Potter. He ground his teeth and checked the next but was caught completely off-guard with what he saw.

The room was darkening as no candles had been lit.

A bed was shadowed in the corner, along with boxes of unidentifiable junk. There was also a crib, that looked ancient, in the other corner.

Draco stepped inside, noticing the silhouette on the bed, and a wave of his hand had a tiny ball of light cruising towards the ceiling. He cocked his head like some kind of curious puppy at what he saw. Two Potters, sound asleep.

The boy – James – he was on his back, sprawled out but lying as close to his father as he could get. Potter was also sleeping soundly, but he was on his side and his body was curled around the boy. It was so protective and positively domestic that Draco felt his stomach do an odd kind of roll. Even in sleep, Potter was protecting his loved ones. For some reason, Draco felt his heart speeding, and he had an undeniable urge to run.

Draco walked to the crib, gently laying the baby on the soft mattress and transfiguring a discarded towel into a fluffy blanket. He covered the tiny little thing and tried to Disapparate, but the wards closed in on him like sticky tar.

He wasn't sure if it was the shift in magic around them that stirred Potter, or the fact that Draco was muttering curses under his breath, but the man on the bed sucked in a quick breath and turned to look up. Draco froze, because what else could he do? He managed to rein himself in with practised ease and let the indifferent mask he lived in settle over his features.

"Domestic troubles, Potter?"


Harry had completely forgotten that Malfoy was there. That he'd been holding Albus. When all that came crashing back down, he got swiftly to his feet, accioed his wand for comfort, before gesturing that they both leave the room.

Before he shut the door behind him, Harry sent a tiny little ball of light to the ceiling where it glowed warmly like a star, because he knew James liked some light in the room when he slept.

Harry turned his back to the door before noticing Malfoy once again and sighing. How did he keep forgetting this man was here?

Malfoy's face took a haughty expression, obviously insulted by Harry's lack of interest in him. Harry cut in before the man could speak, moving towards the kitchen.

"Tea?" he asked wearily, reaching up to a cupboard and already pulling Malfoy out a cup. He didn't know what the man drank, he didn't particularly care either. He flicked on the kettle as he chucked two tea bags into the mugs, hearing the rustling of Malfoy's robes as the man either moved into the room or just made some impatient gesture. He hadn't said anything yet, so Harry was taking that as a good sign.

As the kettle boiled, Harry finally turned around and leaned against the counter casually. He was exhausted, wanted to rub his face and curl into his bed because undoubtedly there would be an early awakening.

He sat back against the counter and casually studied Malfoy. He'd known that the blond prat had enlisted in the Aurors a couple of years ago, and he always kept one eye on him. It seemed his intentions were noble - or as noble as they could be - unless he was taking his sweet time with some dastardly plot. It seemed unlikely though, especially as he had now gone up the ranks and was apparently Harry's new partner.

Malfoy actually seemed a bit uncomfortable, though. Harry had no doubt he'd come to stir the pot, but now he seemed like he was looking for the nearest window to jump through.

Harry thought he might as well play on that. Hey, who knew? It could brighten up his day.

"What brings you to my house, Malfoy?"

The man twitched in a way that could have made him look startled, but of course, Malfoy was far too dignified for that.

"I came... to discuss what happened earlier."

"And what happened earlier?"

"Oh, you mean where you stormed out of the meeting like a royal Golden Boy?"

Harry felt his jaw stiffen. There it was. Good old Malfoy.

"Well what do you expect?" said Harry with a tired grimace. "I've got to spend probably the rest of my career watching my back."

Malfoy scoffed and waved his arm like he was waving away an annoying child.

"You're an Auror, Potter. I'd have thought you'd be used to it by now."

Harry made a half sneer, watching the light above their heads tremble. The last thing he needed was an argument ending in hexes. Especially while his boys were here.

"A bit different when there's a Death Eater involved."

Harry regretted the words as soon as they escaped his mouth. That wasn't like him. He wasn't cruel. And he only felt worse when he saw Malfoy stiffen, his eyes flashing like liquid silver. He saw the firm set of Malfoy's sleek jaw, and he knew he'd hit a nerve. A painful nerve.

Harry let out an exasperated sigh, rubbing his face like he'd been wanting to do since Ginny had left.

"Malfoy-"

Harry's words were cut off as a pale, slender hand was raised. The gesture was so incredibly superior that he felt a spike in his irritation, but Harry swallowed it down. He couldn't argue anymore today, not with anyone.

"You've made your point. I see this was a futile effort at placating you, considering you're so bent on childish insults. Good evening, Potter."

Harry opened his mouth, but Malfoy had already spun on his heel with a grace born from a lifetime of aristocracy. Even as the man marched from the kitchen, the lights hovering against the ceiling flickered dangerously. Harry let his magic slowly reach out, soothing the wards like he would a skittish pet. They shivered from the contact but subsided. He couldn't see Malfoy from his position in the kitchen, but he did hear a slight whoosh of a door being wrenched open. Harry's heart jumped to his throat as he waited for the dramatic slamming of said door - but it never came. There was a faint click, and all was silent.

Harry could feel the movement of Malfoy through the wards as he moved down the corridor and into the lift. The wards had taken a long time to set up, and an incredible amount of magic. Harry had always planned on having his boys here, and he wouldn't have bought the flat if he wasn't allowed to protect it in any way he saw fit. Considering it was one of the most expensive parts of Wizarding London - not to mention the hefty price tag - it was funny how quickly they agreed to his warding proposal. Harry made them agree before he even told him which wards he wanted, and then when they found out, they were shocked, to say the least.

An array of warning wards, counter-attack wards, magical, spiritual and potion detecting spells - glamours and charms and everything Harry could think of. There was even one that would detect someone afflicted with polyjuice potion.

The one that took the most effort though, was the Ancient Blood Ward. That was the one which controlled the lights, which thrummed in Harry's veins. He was linked to the ward as much as he would be a person. It was the most difficult one, and the one with the biggest price. Any foul intentions towards Harry and his kin would be detected, secured, and even killed if the threat were big enough. The ward was commonly used in ancient manors, holding ancient families and trinkets, so the retailers were surprised when he wanted to cast it on his flat.

Harry had thought he knew what the ward would mean, but he was only just starting to get a feel for it. Because it had been created with his blood, only his blood could disarm it. Of course, to let other people into the ward they too had to surrender a droplet, which Harry had added. It wasn't nice when he had had to prick little Alby's heel, but he was sure the boy was over it now.

He knew as a soon as Malfoy crossed the threshold and left the building because the wards almost hummed. It was like a mental marauder's map in his head all the time - but instead of seeing it, he just felt it.

Harry let out a small sigh and turned again, discarding the mug he'd gotten down for Malfoy and instead making himself a cup of tea. He had the briefest urge to add a dash of whiskey, but he squashed that down. Instead, he took the tea and wondered over to the fireplace, pulling up a chair and reaching into the lovely carved box sitting on the mantle. With his mug in one hand, he chucked the powder inside.

"Hermione Granger-Weasley."

The bizarre green smoke rushed into life at his words, crackling silently. Harry pulled the chair close to the fire and pushed his head inside. He couldn't see anything but the licking of the harmless green fire, not until a face came into view. Hermione was moving towards the flame, kneeling with a piece of bread in her hand.

"Hello Harry, are you okay?"

Harry let out a sigh, taking in what he could see of the house that had become like a second home to him through the years. There was a plush sofa behind her, with bookcases against the walls along with muggle and magic trinkets alike adorned tastefully around the room. At the far back by the big windows was the long dining table, and Harry could see the remnants of a meal sitting atop it.

"Sorry Hermione were you eating?"

She waved him away, biting down on the bread again as she settled herself more comfortably in front of the hearth.

"Ron told me what happened today at the Ministry," she said, her voice dipped low in sympathy. Harry grimaced and nodded, taking a sip of the cooling tea in his hands.

"Yeah, did he tell you about Ginny?"

Hermione looked up from her bread, finishing off the last bit and frowning as she chewed, brushing her hands together.

"What happened?"

"Is that Harry?" called a familiar voice from somewhere in the room. Harry looked up as Ron walked from the kitchen into the dining room, drying his hands with a dishcloth as he came closer.

"Hi, Ron."

"You okay mate? You look like shit."

Hermione slapped Ron's arm and he gave her an apologetic look as he moved to kneel in front of the fire.

"I'm shattered," he confided, sighing again.

"What happened with Ginny?" prodded Hermione, spiking Ron's interest. He gave Harry an expecting look and the Auror tried not to fidget. Ginny was always a volatile topic with Ron, and he tried not to talk about her to him because he could understand how torn it made his best friend.

"She's just dropped off the boys."

"The boys? Thought you weren't having them until next weekend?" asked Hermione, her soft eyes watching him steadily. Harry gave a humourless laugh.

"Yeah so did I, but apparently her holiday has to be moved to about an hour ago."

Hermione's eyes went wide, and Ron's face went rigid.

"Oh," was all his friend could muster.

"Yeah. So, I can't come to the match tomorrow, Ron, sorry."

Ron seemed to ground his teeth for a moment but nodded, straightening out his face before he gave his friend a wry smile.

"That's alright, Harry. Seamus has been hounding me for a ticket anyway."

Harry gave Ron a small smile, but Hermione was quick to pick up on his distracted behaviour.

"You alright though, Harry? Do you need anything?"

Harry knew she was asking if he needed help with the boys, and that reminded him of his stormy visitor.

"Nah, they're asleep, thanks, Hermione. Guess who paid me a visit, though?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow and Ron look dumbfounded until a small smile crossed Harry's features. It only took a moment for his friend to catch on, and Ron gasped before breaking out into incredulous laughter.

"No way, he didn't!"

"What? Who?" asked Hermione, looking between her husband and her friend.

Harry chuckled. "Draco bloody Malfoy."