Disclaimer: If I owned the HP series/characters/etc, I wouldn't waste my time writing stories about them cause all my ships would be canon. That being said, there are original characters in here that are completely mine.

Author's Note: Here goes nothing for my second ever Drarry story. This one is a Post-War fic, takes place roughly ten years later. Everything is canon from the books excluding the epilogue. I really like this fic so far and I hope you guys will, too. This fic is also up on Archive Of Our Own under kaila_kaycee. Both accounts are MINE, just to make things clear. I like posting on both because I know some people prefer one site over another (I personally prefer AO3). Happy reading, leave reviews please xo.

Chapter One: Twisting fate to make believe it's all accidental.

To say that Harry was having a bad day would be putting it lightly. It'd been a gruelling 12 hour shift, and the last case had taken its toll on him. Being a healer wasn't easy. Especially being a healer who specialized in dark curses. The last case of the day had been a small child who'd gotten in the way of an ancient dark curse. The curse itself had been, thankfully, easily enough to reverse, but the child was traumatised, refusing to speak to anyone and jumping at every sound. There was a good chance that he was going to end up in therapy. The father was awaiting trial - though the outcome was already pretty clear. The mother was also in , at least for the night. She was suffering from intense shock.

It wasn't that it was the worse curse he'd ever seen. No, there have been worse, way worse. Curses that he couldn't even reverse, curses that he couldn't even heal. Some of the curses killed instantly - and some of them killed slowly, so slowly that the Healers wished with all of their might that they could put their patients out of their misery. Those cases bothered him, yes. But ones involving children were always the ones that left his bones aching with a kind of fatigue that no amount of sleep could cure.

It was too personal, he thought darkly. That was why it got to him. He poured himself a small tumbler of Firewhiskey and gulped it down before inspecting the contents of the fridge. Nothing. What a surprise. He barely had time to eat these days, let alone buy anything to eat. He sighed, weighing the options: venture out of his flat into Diagon Alley and find a nice restaurant, and end up in the papers for the third time in a week, or apparate to a Muggle area and actually do some shopping.

He had all but settled on the second option when he heard the Floo roar to life in the adjacent room. He frowned, instantly on guard. It was barely 5 in the evening, but it wasn't like his friends to stop by without some kind of warning.

He walked cautiously into the room. A small child, 4 or 5 years old at the most, was dressed in pyjamas and clutching a small battered teddy bear. He turned wide grey eyes towards Harry the second he saw him and then made a small 'O' of surprise and jumped behind the green sofa.

Harry dropped to his knees and crawled around the couch. The little blond was holding his teddy bear in front of his face and shaking slightly. There was something familiar about the little small blond face.

"It's okay," Harry said in his softest Healer's voice. "I won't hurt you, come here."

The little boy shook his head. "I'm not 'pposed to be here." Tears trailed down his pale cheeks.

"Where were you trying to go?"

"I wanted to see my daddy," he hiccuped. "He works at a a-potter-y."

A-potter-y? What the - "Do you mean an apothecary?"

"He makes potions and stuff," he nodded. "In a a-potter-y."

Harry nodded to himself. It made sense. The little boy's mispronunciation of apothecary had confused the Floo network and it had dropped him in the place that was the closest - Potter flat. Even the Floo network had its flaws. Poor kid, he mused. No wonder he was so frightened.

Harry approached him slowly, and he let him. He reached him and put a hand on his small shoulder. "What's your name?"

"Sc-scorpius," the little boy stuttered. "Scorpius M-Malfoy."

Malfoy?! That's why the boy looked familiar. He had the Malfoy eyes and the Malfoy hair. But he didn't seem to have the Malfoy arrogant attitude - then again, he was a little young. He doubted it was something they were born with - it was obviously taught to them, and no doubt Draco Malfoy would follow in his father's footsteps soon enough.

He held out his arms to Scorpius. "Come here, Scorpius. I'm going to bring you to your daddy."

He looked at Harry with fearful eyes. "Daddy says I shouldn't trust anyone I don't know."

"And that's a very important thing to remember. But I went to school with your daddy. His name is Draco, and he was in my year. My name is Harry."

"Harry," he said thoughtfully. "Daddy's mentioned a Harry before. I guess it's okay."

"Just sit here for a minute. I need to use the Floo to make a call, and then we can go. Do you want a drink or a snack?"

He shook his head and hugged his teddy closer, perching on the edge of the sofa.

Harry grabbed a handful of Floo powder. "Hermione Granger's office."

It took barely a minute, and Hermione's office swam into view. It was a good thing Harry knew she always worked late - it was after 5, and most people were gone by now.

"Hey, Harry," she said, surprised. "What can I do for you?"

"'Mione, do you know where Malfoy works?"

"Malfoy?" she raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Sure. He works at an apothecary, 1987 Diagon Alley. But why do you want to know that? Please don't tell me you think hes up to something again - the war's long over and -"

"His son accidentally Flooed himself to my flat."

"Wh-what? Oh, the poor child. He's young, isn't he? Same age as Rose, I think. How on earth did he manage that?"

"I don't know," Harry said, shaking his head. "He said that he was trying to get to the apothecary and he pronounced it in such a way that it understood Potter. Not sure why he was alone near a Floo, though."

He could tell that Hermione was enraged by the idea of a young child being left unsupervised - she had two of her own, after all, so he said a hasty goodbye and turned back into the room.

"Am I in trouble?" Scorpius hiccuped, looking fearful.

Harry wondered how often Malfoy punished the child, and how. He could feel his chest slowly tightening, but quickly reassured the child.

"I'm sure your mommy and daddy are just very worried about you," he said slowly. "It was an accident, and accidents happen."

The child nodded, his grey eyes still watery.

"I'm going to change your pyjamas into warm clothes, okay? It's cold outside." He cast a quick spell and the child was dressed in a warm green coat, black trousers, and winter boots with a little black hat covering his blond hair. He held out his hand. "Come on."

They left his flat and walked down Diagon Alley. The address 'Mione had given him was about a fifteen minute walk. Harry held his head high and ignored any looked aimed his way, and strode purposefully down the road.

"Do your daddy and mommy leave you at home alone a lot?"

Scorpius shook his head sadly. "It's just me and Daddy. Mommy moved away last year. Daddy usually takes me to school but today I was sick so he left me with Twinkle - that's our house elf. And she was running me a bath and I snuck into Daddy's office - that's where the Floo is - and now I'm here with you."

The little boy stopped walking, breathing quickly. It was more than he'd said so far, and Harry frowned over several things he'd said. None of it made sense. He hadn't know Malfoy was divorced -he hadn't even really known he had a child - and he assumed that would have been public knowledge. Then again, he hadn't known either that he'd been working in an apothecary. Harry had assumed he'd have taken the Malfoy fortune and made a life of leisure.

"Why didn't your daddy stay home with you?"

"He wanted to, but he's working on a 'portant potion for the dogmen and Twinkle told him to go -"

"Dogmen?"

Scorpius hung his head, looking abashed. "They're called werewolves - but Daddy thinks I'm too young to know 'bout them so I call them dogmen and pretend I didn't hear what he was saying that day."

Harry decided it was best to stop asking questions when the answers confused him even more than knowing nothing did.

After a few more minutes of silence, they reached Malfoy's little shop. The sign was flipped to closed, but Harry unlocked the door with a flick of his wand and walked in, the little bells jingling merrily.

It took not even a minute before a harried Malfoy rushed to the front. He was sweaty, and dressed in Muggle clothes, which were splattered with an array of colours.

"I must have forgotten to flip the sign, but we're closed -"

He stopped midsentence as he saw Harry standing there. Their eyes met, and Harry's insides jumped a little at seeing his ex-nemesis for the first time in years.

"Potter?!"

Before Harry had a chance to reply, Scorpius ran around from behind his legs.

"Daddy!"

Malfoy dropped to his knees instantly and hugged his crying child. "Scorp?! What are you doing with Potter?"

"I'm s-s-sorry, D-d-daddy. I didn't f-f-feel good, and I wanted to s-s-see you so I used the Fl-floo and ended up at H-Harry's h-house. Don't be m-mad."

Malfoy looked at his child with huge worried grey eyes. "Merlin, Scorpius, you could have ended up anywhere! I am angry, but I'm glad you're okay. We're going to have to have a long talk about this when we go home."

Scorpius looked down and refused to meet his father's gaze, but there was no signs of fear in his body language, or his face.

Harry cleared his throat.

Malfoy looked at him, and got back to his feet. He thrust his hands into his pockets and looked uncertain.

"Thank you, Potter, for bringing my son home safe. I'm ... glad he ended up with someone who wouldn't harm him."

Harry's stomach churned at the thought of someone harming the small blond Malfoy counterpart. So Malfoy must still have enemies. He and his mother had gotten completely pardoned (thanks to his testimony) but apparently that didn't change the fact that he'd wronged a lot of people. He hadn't come back to Hogwarts for "8th" year like everyone else did. But not long into 8th year, there had been an article in the paper saying that Lucius Malfoy had died in Azkaban and left everything to his only son. That's why Harry had assumed that Malfoy had just decided to run Malfoy Manor the way his father had and was more than surprised to see him working in a modest shop like this one.

"You're welcome, Malfoy. I hope you two have a nice long talk about this and that it doesn't happen again. And you, Scorpius, be careful, okay?"

Harry turned and walked out of the shop, ready to leave all Malfoys in his past, where they belonged.