Wilted Promises
He was a fool.
His mind told him this on a regular basis.
It had been doing so for the last three days, ever since he'd agreed to go on this stupid date.
He had little Scorpius to look after, why was he being so selfish?
It wasn't as if anything permanent was going to come out of this. They were only satisfying years of curiosity.
He had divorced his wife five years ago, when he realised that he liked men and that she hated him.
Then, when Scorpius had started Hogwarts last year and been sorted into Gryffindor, Draco had been forced to admit that he had an irrepressible crush on his son's Head of House.
Why couldn't his son just follow the family tradition and join Slytherin like everyone else? And why did he have to hang around with the Weasley's and the Potters? Causing so much havoc that their Head of House called Draco in at least once a month for a "serious chat."
But he knew it wasn't all his son's fault. It would appear that his crush was reciprocated, and the Head of House had been looking for excuses. It also appeared that his son was in cahoots, and had been acting up on purpose. Draco should punish him for his misconduct, but then, as he persisted in telling himself:
He was a fool.
As he stood needlessly checking his hair again, a tiny voice inside of him dared to question this solid logic.
It wasn't given much time to explain itself though, as his house elf popped into existence next to him and bowed deeply.
"Mister Potter to see you, sir."
His heart leapt at the name, and the butterflies he'd been chasing off all day came back with a vengeance, making his stomach clench.
"He is in your private parlour and has refused refreshments," she continued, sounding as if not wanting refreshments was a personal affront.
"Thank you," he replied, noting the shocked expression.
His house elves still couldn't believe Draco's new attitude.
Ever since he'd seen how his ex-wife's treatment of them affected his son's behaviour, he'd tried to be more congenial to the house elves and found himself better for it.
Having a son had done wonders for his personal demeanour.
Dismissing the elf with a nod, he checked his appearance one more time.
His long blond hair was swept back into a loose plait allowing some of the shorter strands to fall forward roguishly. He wore an attractive forest green suit and a crisp white shirt with the top two buttons undone.
He frowned. Was that too much? Should he do them up?
His hands were wavering on the buttons when his mirror, clearly exasperated, said;
"For heavens sake! You look good enough to eat, now get going!"
ooOooOoo
Potter's smart charcoal grey jacket crumpled to the floor and Draco had only a moment to reflect on how well their date had gone.
Dinner at a fancy restaurant with live piano music, ridiculously cliché, but what did he expect from Potter? The food was fantastic and they had a lot to chat about. Potter, no, Harry, was surprisingly funny, and the looks he kept sending Dracos way were more than flirtatious.
Afterwards, they'd retreated to a classy jazz club where they shared a booth in the corner, getting more and more intimate until Draco 'convinced' Harry to come back to his place.
He was glad that Scorpius was stuck at Hogwarts for another week, because they had barely gotten through the door before setting on each other, kissing with clumsy passion and grabbing anything that stayed still long enough – mostly each others' arses.
It was a miracle that they made it to Draco's room still dressed.
Harry had removed Draco's jacket and was now working to free his hair as Draco busied himself removing Harry's inconvenient shirt.
One harsh shove and Draco was sat on the bed.
"Sweet Merlin..." This was the first thing Harry had said since leaving the jazz club.
"Do you have any idea... ? You look like raw sex!"
Draco could only imagine. Harry had pulled his hair forward so it draped over one eye and his once crisp shirt was half way down his shoulders. His open fly probably completed the picture.
He wanted to repay the compliment. Harry stood, naked to the waist, hair even messier than usual, gold rimmed glasses slightly askew and neck and shoulders reddened from Draco's bites and kisses.
The expression on his face was nothing like the stern teacher he'd become.
Draco felt the sudden need to be spanked.
Instead he said;
"Rather than just looking like sex, why don't you come here and let me have it?"
ooOooOoo
Sleep ebbed away slowly, lingering memories of passion and comfort caressed his subconscious.
He stretched out with his arms in search of warm flesh, frowning when there was only more empty sheets.
Of course, he remembered, Harry had kissed him good night, laughing and saying he had classes to teach in the morning, even as Draco had tried to lure him back to bed.
But he was waking up now and all the niggling doubts that Harry had so completely dispelled last night, came crawling back one by one, like spiders sliding into his stomach.
Draco lay, aching all over and staring listlessly at the canopy of his four poster bed.
That was doubt one; he was too old for energetic shagging.
His back was killing him and the muscles in his thighs burnt from being held in the air for too long.
You did do it twice in a row,
Draco reminded himself with a pout that he didn't have an inner voice.
And Harry had a lot of stamina.
OK, maybe he did, but that's not the point!
He still had his son to think of, and despite Scorpius thinking this was a good idea, Draco couldn't just bring men home on a whim.
Draco sighed heavily, trying to release some of the tension he was holding.
His head lolled to the side, in search of the breakfast that should be on his bedside table by now.
Instead of looking at his usual breakfast of croissants and a bowl of hot chocolate, his eyes focused on the poesy that Harry had presented to him last night.
Apparently the flowers had much symbolism.
It was nether red nor green but blue, neutral ground. Teacup flowers, because of Draco's 'beauty' and a single thistle because of Draco's prickly nature.
Effectively calling Draco a high maintenance girl!
Draco felt indignation clench in his gut. It was full of symbolism all right, of the inherent differences between the two them!
A bouquet of white roses would have been more appropriate, or maybe a shirt pin he could have worn on their night out.
It would never work between them. He was just wasting both his son's and his own hopes.
He sat up to eat his breakfast and made himself a promise. By the time those flowers had withered and died, he and Harry would be over.
ooOooOoo
Scorpius had behaved himself all week; he'd been the model of student propriety.
He figured Professor Potter had earned the break.
When Professor Potter had turned up to teach Defence Against Dark Arts the day after his date with his father, he'd been positively glowing.
He was sure it had all gone well and knew they had had another date midweek.
Scorpius had long since come to terms with his father's preference and his mother's absence. He was sure that father punished himself more than he needed too.
He was very eager to see his father and find out if he and Professor Potter were an item.
He was practically hanging out of the carriage window as the Hogwarts Express pulled into King's Cross station.
He spotted his father looking imperious and 'pompous'-- that was a word Hugo had taught him.
Scorpius grinned to himself. He had learnt a lot this year that wasn't on the curriculum and he doubted his farther would approve of any of it
As soon as the train stopped, Scorpius ran out of the train and gave his father a big hug, not caring that it took a few awkward moments for the embrace to be returned.
"You er... missed me then?" Scorpius felt a gentle kiss on his forehead.
"Sorry father," he said, but he was grinning as he pulled back.
"Did you enjoy your first year at Hogwarts?"
There was something behind his father's eyes as he asked this simple question and Scorpius took a second to consider his answer.
"Yes, it was very educational."
That seemed the correct thing to say.
"So, I see you've learnt to break the rules and meddle in your father's business."
OK, maybe not.
"Well...."
"We'll discuss this on the way home, young man."
His father looked stern, but not angry.
Scorpous took this as a good sign.
ooOooOoo
Nearly two weeks had passed and there was no sign of Professor Potter on the horizon.
Scorpius was confused. From the way his Head of House had been practically skipping down the corridors at Hogwarts, he had expected him to be a regular visitor over the summer.
Yet his father wouldn't say a word on the subject. It was hard enough to try and ask in the first place. Not that father was as forbidding as Grandfather Lucius, but personal matters had never been a topic of casual discussion.
He finally managed to corner his father after an evening Quidditch practice.
"Professor Potter was a good Quidditch player, wasn't he, father?" he asked as they headed back from their private pitch.
"He was ...reasonable," was his father's terse reply.
Scorpius waited a beat before asking;
"Will he be visiting soon?"
A muscle twitched above father's eye and Scorpius prepared to duck.
"Why," his father asked through clenched teeth, "do you persist in asking that question?"
"Because you like him!" Scorpius blurted out before he could stop himself.
Knowing he'd said the wrong thing in the wrong tone, he started thinking quickly of the most likely counter curses he might need - not that he knew any.
But his father seemed frozen on the spot, his face twisted in confusion.
"What would you know?" he said after a lengthy pause, "You're only twelve."
Throwing caution to the wind, Scorpius decided to answer the rhetorical question.
"And I'm your son. I know you've been lonely since mom left and I don't mind that you like men."
Father was staring at him with an expression of shock on his face, but seeing as he wasn't in imminent danger of being hexed, Scorpius continued.
"You always seemed happy after seeing Professor Potter and he was practically bouncing off the walls with joy the last week of school."
Scorpius only just managed to stop from wincing in fear as he anticipated his father's reaction.
But instead of the telling off he was expecting, he felt his father grasp his shoulder as he looked into his son's eyes.
"When you're older, you'll understand." He'd never seen his father look this sad before, not even when his mum left. "Not everything is meant to last. The trick is to get out before it hurts too much."
Too stunned to utter a response, he watched as his father turned to leave, muttering something like, "The flowers have wilted anyway..." under his breath.
When Scorpius' mind began to work again, he decided to practice another skill Hugo had taught him: meddling.
ooOooOoo
Harry picked three flowers from the newly refreshed vase on the mantelpiece. Using his wand, he cut off the long stems and placed them in the much smaller vase on Draco's breakfast tray.
He stood then, with one hand resting on the bed post and the other trying its best not to reach out and run though Draco's fine blond hair as he slept.
Harry had been reliably informed that Draco did not wake till 8am and that Harry's choice of flowers left a lot to be desired.
As he stared down at what had become of his old school rival, he wondered where all the resentment had gone. The man lying here with feather soft hair, firm jaw and chiselled cheeks inspired nothing but lust and love.
Draco's delicate eyelashes fluttered and Harry glanced at his wrist watch. 7:58. Harry grinned. Trust Draco to wake up on schedule.
It was the first time Harry had watched Draco wake and he cherished every sigh and shift of his body as he drifted into consciousness.
Harry watched as Draco's expression went from pleasure when he first spotted Harry at bedside, lips curling up, eyes beginning to shine, to confusion with a wrinkled brow, until Draco finally settled on annoyance.
Harry just continued to smile. After Scorpius' visit, he could put up with anything Draco could throw at him.
"You make a habit of breaking into other men's bedrooms and watching them sleep?" Draco said in an attractive drawl, "I'm sure there are laws against that."
Harry schooled his expression into seriousness and sat down on the bed.
"I wonder when I started to look at that pointed nose of yours and think it adorable."
"So now you insult me?"
Harry leaned down and rested a hand at either side of Draco's head. The blond's eyes widened and his breath hitched, but he didn't speak or move away. Draco's eyes drifted to Harry's lips and stayed there.
Harry pressed in until he was a heartbeat away and Draco was breathing heavily.
"You know..." Harry whispered, his lips ghosting their way over Draco's jaw, "Your son came to visit me yesterday."
Draco pulled back sharply and looked into Harry's eyes.
"Scorpius?"
"Um hum," Harry nodded. Unsure where to kiss first, he settled for the adorable nose, "My own sons, too."
"James and Albus?"
Harry chuckled quietly - maybe Draco's classic wit failed him this early in the morning.
"Yes." He could see Draco trying to hold onto his ire, so he began nibbling his neck. "I was ganged up on, criticized on many things, including my gifts."
Harry pulled back to give Draco room to get his breath back, then pointed to the mantelpiece, taking it away again.
Two dozen white roses in full bloom.
Draco's mouth fell open and he sat up to get a better look, Harry was pleased to see delight dancing in his eyes.
"You'll catch flies," Harry commented, reaching for the breakfast tray and handing it to Draco.
Draco stared at the tray for a moment before protocol seemed to kick in and he began to butter the toast. Harry was quite content to watch and push a strand of Draco's hair back behind his ear.
"Look..."
Harry held up a hand to stop Draco's objection.
"Let me speak first."
"OK," Draco said, "I'm listening"
"We've been... courting... now for a year, we've only recently admitted it." Harry stopped Draco's next comment with a quick kiss. "And I have been reliably informed by our offspring that we are happy together and should give it a go."
Harry stared into Draco's eyes to gauge his reaction, seeing fear and hope in equal measure.
"You think this won't last? You want to get out before it hurts? You know what that means?" Draco shook his head numbly. "It's worth it."
Not waiting to see his response, Harry stood up and faced the fire. He took one big gulp of air and began to undo his shirt. It was time to test Draco's resolve.
"Just because we're different, doesn't mean it'll end before it starts." He dropped the shirt on the floor and crouched to unlace his shoes.
"Is that a good idea?" Draco asked as Harry started to undo his belt. "Scorpius will expect me in the morning room."
That wasn't a 'get out now,' so Harry grinned to himself and tugged off his trousers in one go, leaving his head down and his cotton-clad arse on full display.
"That's cheating," Draco croaked and Harry heard clinking. Turning round, he saw the breakfast tray back on the side table and the bed covers pulled back.
Not one to miss an opportunity, he dived in and quickly snuggled up to Draco, wrapping his arm around Draco's waist.
"My son..."
"Is at Ginny's with my two boys." Harry nibbled at Draco's neck again. "We have all day and all night."
ooOooOoo
Harry was clearly insane.
Apparently, so was Draco.
Harry's teeth, lips, and tongue were fogging his mind as they explored his neck and Harry's hand had sneaked inside Draco's pyjama shirt and was tracing circles on his side, sending warm tingles to his stomach.
"Harry." Draco pushed him back a little so they could meet each other's gaze.
"I can't just ... If this goes wrong? Our sons..." He tried to convey all his doubts and fears to Harry using just his eyes because words were failing him. He didn't think Harry was getting the message, though, because Harry was doing his best to distract Draco by stroking the top of his exposed hip.
"Our sons give their blessing," Harry said looking sincere. "To them this is just a game, 'make dad happy'."
Draco wanted to object, to save himself. But looking in Harry's eyes now he knew that was the truth. His son would be happy as long as Draco was there, it was himself that was in danger.
"We're the only ones that need to make this decision." Harry lent in once more, this time pressing their bodies together until Harry was almost on top. Draco closed his eyes, comforted by Harry's weight.
"It's just between you and me." Strong hands surrounded Draco's face and Harry kissed him with passion, mouth open, tongue probing and demanding. By the time he was finished, Draco was out of breath and out of words.
"I love you, Draco."
He opened his eyes and stared at Harry. "What?"
"I..Love..You."
The repeated words seeped into his conciousness, and as Draco rolled them around in his mind, he realised what he was feeling was happiness.
"I love you too."