Title: Wish upon a star
Rating: NC 17
Pairing: Harry-Draco
Verse I
Nobody knew where Malfoy got the baby from.
But Remus had him by the scruff of his collar as he dragged a wandless Malfoy into 12 Grimmauld place.
"He is going to get himself and the baby killed" Remus said in a sort of explanation.
The order was mostly unsympathetic about Malfoy's plight.
But there was a squirming bundle in his hand, a pink faced bald baby that he held uncomfortably.
There was a lot of veritaserum, one unbreakable vow and a paternity test before Malfoy was allowed to stay in his ancestral home!
For what it was worth Malfoy slipped quiet easily into the long unbroken shadows of Grimmauld place. Where every bedroom was titled with a dead man's name and his covers smelled damp and unwashed.
On most days he felt claustrophobic, vaguely tracing out names on the dusts of the window sill, and cut off from the rest of the world.
There was still war going on, from the bits and pieces of conversation he had heard floating up, and Harry potter and the rest of the golden trio still missing. Remus looked worried on most days, making torrents and coffee and arguing with his heavily pregnant wife.
"You shouldn't be out there" he would say running his fingers through his graying hair, "If it goes wrong..."
and trail off and sink into the rickety dinning room chair as his wife stormed off.
And Draco would continue lingering in the shadows half dead from the lack of sleep and worry and baby drama on top of it all.
The war ravaged on outside and he would sit on window ledges and watch the skies for some answers. The Order of Phoenix met in utter secrecy, with warded doors and McGonagall's patented glares that made him feel like a 11 year old. The Weasley twins kept mercifully out of the way when the baby started brawling every time one of them passed by.
It was hilarious in reality, Malfoy couldn't have trained him better. But his red face would turn redder as he bunched his fist and waved around screaming at the top of his lungs every time the twins passed by.
Made Draco proud.
On Monday morning when Draco was making tea, the 'golden' trio walked in, grimy, dirty, laughing with their hands on each other so hard that a moment apart would ruin it all.
Granger with her hair in a messy bun, the sleeves of her wand arm ripped and dirt on her cheek, her knuckles were white from where they gripped Potter's arm and the Weasley with his death grip on Potter's shoulder, blue eyes bright and a clean strip of skin peeled on his cheek and Potter in between eyes so bright that it hurt Draco to look.
"Malfoy" the Ginger weasel asked, too pumped up to sound angry, he just sounded surprised "what are you doing here?"
"making tea" he said, still in his pygamas feeling uncomfortable with all their bright eyes on them.
"You-know...Voldemort is dead" Ron said laughing and Draco flinched all the same, "Harry killed the old snake face"
Harry with his eyes still bright and scar bleeding ever so slightly and that grime on his cheeks Draco wanted to wipe away, smiled "couldn't have done it without you guys" and held both of them tighter.
Draco looked away, throat burning in relief, shame and emotions he didn't want to feel "I have a baby" he said instead.
Granger's eyes widened and Weasley laughed, "Good for you" Harry said, the only one who seemed to believe him as they collapsed on the rickety dinning chairs.
Draco hid in his room that day as hoards of order members poured in, with cheers and cries and war causalities.
And that evening at the absence of a party Draco would realize that Fred Weasley had died, like Remus and Tonks and that his half breed nephew cut open from his dead mother's belly was alive and kicking.
And that both his parents had made it out in one piece after all, awaiting war trials and perhaps Azkaban.
He climbs to the roof that night, higher and higher with his eyes on the clear star lit sky and traces the shapes of constellations and names his son Gabriel instead, the ancestors of Blacks roll in their graves and he climbs down and kisses his son goodnight.
The next morning when he feeds Gabriel, Granger walks in and gapes in shock "You weren't joking"
Draco bites back the scathing replies "hardly a thing I would joke about" and shifts his baby a little to the right. The calmness in his voice shuts Granger up as she tentatively moves closer to the baby, the tip of her fingers brush Gabriel's fine blonde wisps as she whispers "how old is he?"
Draco resist the urge to pull his baby away from Granger's filthy hands, full of possible germs replies instead "nine months"
"Is he yours?"
"Yes" Draco drops the accompanying eye roll, Granger must be insane to think that he would cuddle any child who was not his.
Weasley lumbers down the stairs and stuffs in three slices of toast before he sees Granger Draco and the baby "oye Malfoy where did you get the baby from?"
"He is mine" Draco sniffs and lifts Gabriel up to burp the baby
"Which bird did you knock up?" with as much as subtlety as an oncoming fright train he asks, Granger glares and inhales sharply.
"He is just mine" Draco replies as he carts Gabriel away from prying eyes and he just smiles and squeals.
Draco hides in his room and Gabriel grows steadily restless till Draco is forced to carry him outside again, amongst the Weasley ruckus he hopes he can slip by to the tapestry room but finds Potter there instead staring intently at the family lines.
"Malfoy" and his eyes wander to Gabriel, "and hello there" he says, eyes crinkling as he manages to catch the baby's attention.
And Gabriel, being the traitor that he is, smiles happily at Potter and reaches his chubby arms out towards him. Potter smiles again, all cow eyed at Draco's little baby and says apologetically "I don't know how to hold you"
but tentatively moves towards the baby anyway.
Draco sighs and hands the baby over, adjusting Potter's hands around his baby "Relax Potter" he says at last "he doesn't bite"
It takes a few minutes for Draco to realize the proximity to Potter, the warmth and those green eyes peer back with unnerving intensity as he takes a hasty step back.
"His name is Gabriel"
"Hello there Gabe" Potter says instead, towards his baby's smiling face and puffs up his cheeks.
They look so utterly endearing that Draco forgets to be pissed about the awful nickname.
He does, later though when he is forced to join the Molly and red headed clan's celebratory dinner where it is an awful combination of happiness and tragedy that he doesn't dare comment. The food is toe curlingly good and Molly drinks more than a liberal share of Sherry, her eyes wandering to the empty spot near George, her hair frizzy and all over the place.
He fusses over a calm Gabriel to avoid kitchen duty when Molly weasley waddles towards him and Gabe squeals and reaches over to her.
Narcissa Malfoy would have had a heart attack over her grand child's behavior and Draco almost does, except Molly gives a teary smile and picks Gabriel up. The rest of the evening is spend with the Weasel clan cooing over his baby who enjoys the attention and pouts and preens and blows spit bubbles for his adoring audience, with Draco hovering worriedly in the corner.
Even the red headed She-Weasel makes her way to Gabriel and lifts him up and it takes all of Malfoy's self control not to snatch his baby away. Gabriel cries the instant he is her arms making Draco almost proud and before he can move Potter rescues the wailing baby from her arms.
Gabe calms instantly in Potter's arms sniffles, as Potter cooes and doesn't spare the pouting she weasel another glance. Feeling oddly proud Draco picks Gabriel from Potter's arms, except he doesn't move away.
He spends the rest of the night playing with Gabe instead till the baby falls asleep.
Of all the people in the world, Gabe takes an instant liking for Potter and Granger but throws things at Weasel. And even on the day that Gabriel managed to aim his bowl at Weasel's head, all Granger did was giggle even at his baleful looks.
The daily prophet brings in no good news, despite the celebrations the wizarding world seems to indulge in, more people cry out for blood. Someone to hold responsible, someone to burn on the stakes for the people with the pitchforks.
The Malfoy name down in the dredges with his parent's faces splashed across the news papers and unflinching eyes at the flashing cameras and their head held up high. The article contained a one line mention of his name 'the Malfoy heir however seems to be in hiding, the readers can only speculate the amount of money that must have changed hands to carter him off from Ministry's eyes'
He wants to tear the pages and break walls and storm into the Ministry with his head held high, except Gabe tugs his sleeves, the dark blue in his eyes fading into something blue-green as he looks up and Draco just feels complacent, his anger makes way to fear and the need to keep Gabe safe.
So he folds up the paper nicely and makes his way up to his room so that he can write a well thought out letter instead.
The summons to the Ministry is not altogether surprising Draco thinks, but the handcuffs and the aurors in waiting throw him into a loop. Even with the Veritaserum and the annoyingly repetitive questioning and hostile looks no one is convinced about his role in war.
Draco thinks about his life in prison, Gabe growing up as an orphan while a glaring Weaselette pushes his son onto the streets. Draco thinks of living life alone, people outside growing up and growing old when he is left forgotten behind prison walls.
Surprisingly the Golden trio comes to his rescue, at least 2/3rds of it and Potter leaning nervously against the walls of the interrogation room "It will take a while" he says "Hermione is trying to get the Ministry to see reason, it is still a lot of paper work"
Draco knows this of course, as he stretches the hem of his sleeves over his knuckles "how long?" his voice sounds strained and scared.
And Potter hears this too, moves closer as he places his palm over Draco's clenched knuckles.
Draco thinks he can feel the warmth radiating through the clothes, like someone sucked the air out of the room and left him feeling oddly giddy instead.
Granger walks in then, her heels clicking ominously against the tiled hallways and Potter draws his hand away. Draco barely hears the rest, his hands still oddly frozen over the table top.
It takes a day and a half for the 'paper work' to clear and him to be set free from the baleful glares that the officials send him, but he is just so happy to be free that it hardly matters.
When he appartates to Grimmauld place, he doesn't pay attention to the dusty portraits or the screaming Mrs. Black, just his baby nestled in Harry's arms gives an excited squeal as he reaches over.
And Draco holds him tight, eyes watering, feeling things that he never expected to feel anyway.
When he looks up from nestling his face against Gabe's neck, Potter stands, a little further back, green eyes crinkled with a smile like the first time he saw Gabe says instead "I missed you" and Gabe laughs in his arms holding back and drools on his unwashed robes, and Draco thinks it feels like heaven.
Almost like he is in love.