Author's Note: Here kids, is a cute little fluffy story about my two favorite characters. Basically, it is "Nineteen Years Later", but my cuter version. I might continue…depends on if I can create a thicker plot or not :) Any suggestions are welcome! Please Review!
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter…sadly.
Six Years Later
It was well past midnight. A tall, thin figure apparated into the small square with a pop. Snow swirled through the air, obscuring the stars that peppered the black velvet sky. The figure shivered audibly, drew his cloak tighter around him with one arm, the other being clasped firmly around his ribs. Harry James Potter mounted the stairs to number 12, Grimmauld Place with some difficulty, his free hand grasping the rail so tight his knuckles turned white. The emerald eyes on the silver serpent door knocker seemed to glow with life in the swirling snow. He opened the heavy black door with his wand, stepped into the dark, yet much warmer, hallway and locked the door behind him.
Though the house was essentially the same décor wise as it was when Sirius lived there, the place had undergone a rapid transformation now that "Master Harry" resided. Kreacher kept everything spotless and was the image of a perfect servant. No more cobwebs littered the crystal chandeliers and every silver fixture shone. In the six years since the Dark Lord's demise, Kreacher's devotion towards Harry only rose. Harry was now twenty three, and in the employment of the Ministry of Magic. After defeating Voldemort, the ministry presented him with an Order of Merlin, first class and welcomed him into the Auror office with open arms. Seeing as the new minister was Kingsley Shacklebolt, this hardly came as a surprise and Harry couldn't refuse the position if Head of Auror Office. Normally, his work was very satisfying. Ron was an Auror, as were Luna Lovegood, Ernie Macmillan and Dean Thomas, and nothing was more pleasing to former D.A members than to fight Dark Wizards, the last of Voldemort's followers.
This past week, however, a recent smattering of Dark Wizard attacks kept everyone at the ministry busy and Harry had been arriving home well past midnight only to be wrenched from his bed after only a few hours of sleep. When Harry was killed by Voldemort and then chose to re-enter the world of the living, his health was somewhat affected. Harry would always remain pale and thin, and was prone to catching colds and other small bugs. Being near freezing outside, coupled with the long work days and little sleep, Harry had definitely not felt well that week.
"Harry, love?" The landing lamps flared on, flooding the hallway with light. Draco Malfoy, Harry's boyfriend and the love of his life came down the narrow stairs, tying a dark green silk dressing gown around his thin waist. "Come in and get warm, it's freezing out…What's wrong?" He began, but at the sight of Harry clutching his side alarm flooded his gray eyes. He hurried to Harry, wrapping his arms around the smaller wizard protectively, ushering him up the stairs and into their bedroom.
"I'm fine…" Harry said groggily, but his features deceived him. His thin face was unusually pale and he was shivering uncontrollably. His normally brilliant green eyes were fogged over with pain. Draco made Harry sit on their bed while he unfastened Harry's cloak and robes, baring his chest. He hissed unhappily at the long gash and blotchy purple bruise covering the left side of Harry's chest.
"What happened?" He asked hurriedly, examining the wound. Harry winced.
"Amalys got me with something. Caught me off guard." Draco looked at him in confusion. "You know. Alecto's son."
"Right." Draco said grimly. "Lay down a minute, love, and I'll try and heal it." Draco helped Harry lay back on the thick embroidered quilt covering their bed. It was a huge four poster with green and gold hangings, with intricate designs carved into the fine mahogany. It had once been Sirius's bed and in memory of his godfather, Harry insisted that they keep it. Of course, Draco hadn't argued as the bed was large enough for him and Harry to snuggle without feeling cramped.
"Episkey." Draco pointed his wand at Harry's side. The long gash closed up somewhat, but it still oozed small droplets of blood and the blotchy bruise remained. Worry crossed Draco's face. He strode quickly to the bathroom adjoining the master bedroom. Harry heard cabinets banging and the sound of the tap being run as he lay weakly on their bed, still shivering. He was freezing. Draco came back with bandages and a wet rag in his hands. He knelt by Harry and dabbed at the mostly healed cut with the rag and Harry hissed in pain. Once it was clean, Draco put his arm around Harry's shoulder's and helped him sit up. He swiftly bound Harry's chest in bandages and helped him lay back down. A quick flick of his wand and Harry was clad in warm flannel pajama pants and a white t-shirt. Harry smiled weakly.
"Thanks." He whispered, pulling Draco down towards him. He planted a kiss on Draco's soft lips and Draco leaned in eagerly, cupping Harry's face in his hand. Suddenly, Draco broke away and frowned. He switched his hand from Harry's flushed cheek to his scarred forehead.
"Harry, you're sick! You're burning up…" Draco helped Harry slide under the thick covers and with another flick of his wand cast a heating charm on the bed. He pulled the covers up around Harry tenderly, but the look on his face was that of accusation. Harry shrugged sheepishly.
"Kingsley gave me tomorrow and the weekend off. He said not to come back until I was well…said I've been working too hard lately."
"You have been working too hard lately!" Draco said indignantly. "You've been getting barely any sleep and the weather has been horrible. You know always get ill when it first snows!" Draco tried to make his voice sound harsh, but failed miserably when he saw the look of pain on Harry's face. "Does your head hurt?" he asked gently, carding his fingers through Harry's unruly hair, causing him to lean into the touch before nodding. "How about your throat?" Harry swallowed hard against his raw throat and nodded again.
"Kreacher!" Draco called. The old elf materialized at once with a loud crack.
"Yes, master?" he asked.
'Harry is ill," said Draco. "Could you bring us a fever reducing potion, a pain relieving potion, and a cup of tea?"
"Of course, master. Right away," said Kreacher, vanishing with another crack. Draco took off his dressing gown and crawled into bed with Harry who was still trembling with cold despite the warm bed and thick quilt. He spooned the smaller wizard, wrapping his arms around Harry's torso while being mindful of his injury. Harry sighed contentedly and snuggled closer to Draco. Draco's body heat felt good against his feverish skin. Draco planted a kiss on the back of Harry's neck.
"You are going to rest for a week at least." Draco said, freeing one of his hands in order to massage Harry's scalp. "You're hurt and you're ill. It's not like Kingsley won't understand. He knows how often you get sick."
"He understands that you will tie me to this bed and hold me hostage" Harry said with a tired laugh. "But I have to get back soon…it's been busy lately."
"Harry, if you don't take some time off to rest it will only hurt you in the long run. Why can't someone else take over for a while? Why does it have to be you?" Harry struggled to find the right words to voice his feelings. It was something he just couldn't explain. He felt if every last Dark wizard was brought down the Sirius, Fred, Dobby, Colin, Remus and Tonks, Dumbledore, his parents, and countless others would not have died in vain. He knew what it felt like to have those close to you ripped away and he didn't want any other lives torn apart the way his had been.
"I owe it to my godson." He said finally.
"Harry!" Draco cried, sitting up so he could look Harry in the face. "Teddy loves you, and couldn't be more proud to have Harry Potter for a godfather. I know what you mean, but you can't do it all by yourself." Harry leaned up with some difficulty and kissed Draco softly.
"Thank you for understanding." His voice was hoarse and scratchy.
"Master Harry?" Kreacher materialized next to the bed with a tray containing various vials pf potion and a steaming mug of tea in his wizened hands. He set the tray on the nightstand and passed Harry a vial of green potion and them one of blue. Draco helped Harry sit up so he could gulp the potions and Kreacher conjured up several pillows to go behind Harry's back so he could sit up in bed and drink his tea. Draco snuggled up to Harry once more, laying his head on Harry's shoulder. He could feel Harry shivering slightly, but not as bad as before.
"If Master is feeling well enough, Kreacher could bring Master a nice bowl of broth or some beef tea? That always helps Master regain his health." Kreacher said, bustling around gathering quilts and lighting a fire in the grate.
"Thanks Kreacher, but my stomach's not really up to it at the moment." Harry said, his voice still hoarse.
"Of course, Master. Just let Kreacher know if you are needing anything else." Kreacher said croakily, bowing so low that his upturned snout almost brushed the floor before vanishing with a crack. Harry sighed comfortably. The potion was already bringing his fever down, his head wasn't pounding anymore, and the tea eased his sore throat. His side was still aching harshly, though not as bad as before.
"You know Teddy is coming tomorrow night. It's Christmas break." Draco reminded him.
"Blimey! I almost forgot." Harry said tiredly. "He'll want to put the tree up as soon as he gets here…He always does." As much as Teddy looked like his father, he was much more like Tonks in personality. Always bright, happy and eager to please, even if he was terribly clumsy. Teddy lived with his grandmother, but spent Christmas and summers with Harry and Draco. Harry was very firm in wanting to be there for Teddy much more than Sirius was there for him, not that it was Sirius's fault. Being an escaped convict on the run somewhat hampered your ability to be a good guardian. Harry let his eyes fall closed. The fire popped softly in the grate and he could hear the wind howling outside.
"Goodnight, love." Draco whispered tenderly. Harry was already asleep, but a smile played on his thin face. Draco leaned over and kissed the lightning scar that had not pained Harry for six years. All was well.
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So! That was my version of "Nineteen Years Later". Should I continue, or leave as a one-shot? Please review!