Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or places but the plot is all mine.
Warnings: Slash, Mpreg, implied Violence
Harry stepped out of The Realm allowing the heavy door to swing shut behind him. He turned to watch the world which had held him captive disappeared forever behind the matt finished, metal door. With a thump it closed, melting seamlessly into the rest of the wall and out of existence. The sound echoed down the hall way, playing over again and again. He shut his eyes for a moment, allowing himself a few steadying breaths.
He was once again in his old self, the body that had entered The Realm. Its flesh did not bear the scars of what he had endured. His fingers were no longer stubs, his left leg whole and intact. The pain was now only an echo of what had been. For the first time in a long time his vision was not blurred from the absence of his glasses. The Saviour raised a shaky hand to his forehead, pressing it over his scar, forcing himself to take long but shaky breaths.
Now he was back. The Realm had tried to break him, but it could not and now he stood here. The perception of time in The Realm was warped. An hour could be equal to a second in reality. The next could be equal to 5 years. It would not matter if he had been able to recall how long it felt he had spent in The Realm.
While the physical pain may no longer be real, the mental wounds he now carried were still fresh. A few were now ugly scars but most were still gapping and spurting as though an artery had just been severed.
All he wanted now was to be home, home with those who loved him.
"Promise me that you will not follow me, not matter what happens," he had asked.
"Harry, how can you ask such a thing of me?"
"I am the one who must do this. If you follow me you will perish."
"How do you know such a thing? How can you make such a claim?"
"It is not you who I am judging. I am not judging anyone. It is me who as been called and I must heed that call to save you, to save magic, to save this world."
"Why must it always be you?" he had sobbed.
He had shaken his head. "I do not know. Destiny I suppose. You knew that a long time ago and still wished to stay with me."
"And I will stay with you if not in the flesh, in spirit, in heart. I will always be here for you."
"I may not return in your lifetime."
"But while I still have breath left in this body I will be waiting." A moment of silence passed between the two before he had added. "I promise Harry. I give you my word that I will not follow you. Instead I will wait until the day you return."
"I may not return."
"You will return. I know you will. I love you."
"I love you more than the air which surrounds you and me, the air by which I breathe and live," he wanted to stay but could not.
"Go and live your life while you still can. The world might not exist for much longer. Find yourself a new partner, someone new to love. If I return I will be a different person, I may not even be human any longer."
"When you return I will still be here and I will put the pieces back together and you will be whole again. I will not have to love you again for I will never stop."
Then they had kissed. Not a kiss of passion, but unending love and farewell.
It was the last time he had seen his love. He did not hold onto the hope that he still loved him for that hope could easily be broken. He had probably moved on. For all Harry knew he could be long since dead. If he had held on to that hope with a strong grip and that hope smashed so would his fragile mind, but still part of his optimistic self held the hope that he would be waiting, that he would accept him with open arms and help pick up the pieces of his life once more.
Harry reached into one of the outer pockets of his robes for the amulet he had too long ago left there. Feeling it bump against his fingers he carefully pulled it out and laid it on the palm of his hand where it fit nicely. It was a dragon made of silver and jade. The dragon it depicted was long since extinct, some several hundred years before he entered The Realm. Three spines on either side of its face protruded along its cheek bones, smaller ones made-up its eye brows. The wings were clawed and large spines came up the calves. The creature was mainly silver but the jade was used liberally in the wings and to accentuate the scales of the body of the beast. The dragon was in a half seated position, lying on its side. Its body warped into a circular shape causing the head and neck to be bent over with the tail completing the circular amulet.
This was his caller of sorts. It would tell him if his lover was still alive, and if he was alive, where he was. It would call out for a presence of life and listen for an echo. He didn't know if he could handle him being gone, if he could handle a world with out his lover. He didn't know when he was, he could be 17 centuries into the future. He didn't know if his lover still loved him, if he would still accept him after all that had happened. There were a lot of things he didn't know, many he was uncertain of, but he knew one thing and one thing for sure; he would not even be able to even imitate a resemblance of being alive if he didn't know, if he was unsure whether his lover was still alive, still out there.
While his thoughts chased each other around the mutilation of his mind, the fingers he had lost but now had, stroked dragon softy, as if the rhythmic caresses would sooth his soul. But it could not, only one thing could sooth his broken mind, there was only one thing that would help, that would heal.
"Quaero vita," he whispered, his vocal chords resisting their use. The dragon opened its eyes and yielded a silent roar. It glowed slightly before returning to its original state. If the situation had not been different Harry would have cried in relief. Had his lover been dead the dragon would have turned to stone, but instead it had remained silver and jade.
"Locus vita."
The beast in his palm came to life once again, moving to its four feet and spreading its wings. The jade between the silver webbing began to change. The different strands of colour swirled around to create an image, an image of his lover. He looked much the same has he had left him. Not that many years had passed then. His heart began to fill with hope, his mind grasping at the lifeline that dangled before it. The image smiled that irresistible smile, the smile that made Harry go weak at the knees with want. He couldn't help it. He reached out and touched the image, initiating the Portkey.
The pull of a hook behind his naval reminded him of the world that he was again apart of before he was thrust in front of the building that he remembered to be St. Mungos Hospital. At least that had not changed. Harry looked towards the Muggle shoppers that passed by. None of them seemed to have noticed that a person had just suddenly appeared in the middle of the side walk. They all wore similar fashion to that when he had left. Much time must not have passed then? But he was not very knowledgeable on Muggle fashion. The coats and jumpers to ward off the cold didn't help either. The incessant pulling of the dragon in his hand directed him towards the hidden entrance of the hospital and he pulled his eyes away from them.
Harry supposed he should be feeling something, anticipation, joy, anxiety, excitement, but there was nothing. It felt like all of his emotions were hidden beneath the surface of his mind and he couldn't tap into them. He felt empty.
The waiting room of the hospital had several patients waiting, but Harry paid them no attention, instead he headed towards the staircase the dragon was leading him to. With out warning a man with a parrot's beak for a hand reached for him, seemingly unable to control his actions. The beak tore through his robes and gashed his skin which soon began to bleed. Harry simply looked at the wound and than the man, his face showing nothing.
"I'm so terribly sorry. I didn't know it would do that. I can't help you but I'm sure one of the Healers would be able to fix you in a j-." The man stopped. His babbling really was useless. The gash was nothing. As a matter of fact he could hardly feel it so why was there any reason to worry. "You're…you're…"
Harry simply placed a finger to his lips, quietening the man, and turned away. If someone said it out loud it would make it real, everything real, and at the moment it couldn't be real, he had to not be there. If he was not there he could disappear when he found out that his lover had moved on. At the moment he didn't even feel real.
Several robed healers passed him as he made his way up the stairs. He did not know what level he stepped out on, he was simply following his guide. The world around him felt dull, feeling less. It was as though everything was the same. As if everything was made of cold, hard, grey stone. He could see the different colours; the black robes, the red flowers, the white orbs, the blue floors, but to him they felt grey. There might as well be a technicolour flashing clown standing there in front of him doing an Irish jig, but it would be cold, and hard, and grey, it would be stone, moving stone. It would be living, but he would not recognize it as living, it would simply be moving, as everything else around him.
A mother and daughter came towards him from the other direction. The girl waved at him. He did not wave back. She was a moving stone.
He had one sole objective and that was to follow the dragon. He was not sure what would happen when he could not follow it any longer, when it found the person it was looking for. Some may say he was living in the moment, to him he was simply living, living only by a hope.
And then he reached a window and the dragon stopped moving, becoming a motionless amulet once again.
There he was. Standing right there, in the room, just through the window. He felt his breathing had stopped. He was not sure when it had stopped but at the moment living was important and to live you needed air, so he took a breath, and then another, and another.
He was so beautiful, his Draco. The shinning white blonde hair sat perfectly in a bob. He stood there his grey eyes glistening, glistening with strong, happy emotions. His face looked nearly the same as when he had left. It held the stress that he had revealed when he left but showed happiness. His tailored blue robes brought a tinge of blue to his eyes that only made him more beautiful. The sight of those high cheek bones, strong yet slightly feministic jaw line brought emotions he had not felt for so long towards the surface of his mind. He could vaguely sense emotions that made him feel good and that gave him a slight hole in himself that he felt he must fill with Draco. Or perhaps the hole had always been there and he was only recognizing it now. And then he smiled that smile, his smile, the smile that Draco reserved for those he loved, for his Harry.
Harry felt his face twitching around the corner of his lips, a strange pulling he could not remember, and then he did. He wanted to smile, but for some reason if felt wrong.
Harry watched the blue robes shift around the body he knew so well as Draco leaned forward. There was a lounge in front of the window he observed absently and there was someone sitting on the lounge, the person Draco was reaching for.
He was young, in his twenties like Draco and Harry, perhaps a year or two younger. He had short cut brown hair and a heavy, strong set face that was also smiling. He was pretty. He had broad shoulders, a strong neck, and Harry had enough control of his mind to guess that he was also tall, broad chested and well muscled.
The muscle near his lips stopped twitching as the world began to slow. Draco's hand moved towards the brunette. The feelings that had been floating up in his mind sank faster than a pebble in a clear pond and instead another emotion he new too well surfaced. The world began to blur a little, taking a redish tinge. It reminded him all too much of The Realm. If he thought about it he could be back there. He was bleeding already from the beak attack, the world was turning shades of red and beginning to heat, there were no good feelings, just those of anger and fury.
But more emotions boiled up, up and over the rage and anger. Now he felt as if falling, falling through an endless sky, with the impending doom of the landing. It hurt in a way the creatures of The Realm had never been able to make him hurt, on a level closer to his being, to his soul he might suppose. He realised the world was no longer red but instead grey, grey stone. The stone it had been before was smooth and calmingly cool, but now it was rough and cold, making everything painful to the touch.
Harry turned away. He could not watch as Draco touched another man. He felt crushed. Somehow he had given into the temptation and grabbed that rope of hope that had dangled in front of him and clutched it with all of his being. Now the rope was broken and he was clutching at air.
He turned mindlessly into an empty dark room, shutting the door behind himself. He rested his back against the wall. His head had somehow tilted to the side and he was now staring ahead at a lopsided bookshelf. Looking but not seeing. He felt crushed like a useless ball of paper, as if he was under a block of stone.
He did not know how long he sat there, staring into space. His mind felt shattered, torn apart. His sorrow and pain swirled together. He didn't realise he was crying until he felt the pat of the tears on his hand. His body had never felt so hollow, so much like a shell, but now the shell had nothing to house. There was no reason for any of this to continue. He had to leave to get out of here.
Harry stood and hastily dried his face on the collar of his robes. Outwardly he was calm, emotionless. Inside he was boiling and bubbling with cold emotions; hate, anger, disbelief and most of all betrayal. He had not been back in the world for long but he felt as if the things, the feelings that made him human were now rushing back.
Pushing the door open he stepped out of the dark room and into the hallway. He looked one way and then the other, trying to remember which way he had come and hence which way was out. The hallway looked the same both ways. He did not recall what the portraits he had passed looked like, only that he had passed paintings. He did not even know what level he was on. Taking a guess he turned to the left.
"Oh my goodness, you're bleeding," a voice practically screeched. Harry slowly turned around to see a young witch probably only just out of school brandishing her wand at his arm. Almost absently he looked at the wound and back at her as if to say 'So?' The diagnostic spells spun around his arm but he did not care
"You're Harry Potter!" spluttered the witch. Harry simply turned away from the dark haired girl and continued in his search for the exit. "Mr Potter, please just let me get one of the Healers to take a look at your arm. The cut is quite severe. Mr Potter!"
Harry continued his way down the hall ignoring the witch. He needed to get out of here, away from them, from the probing questions, from the pitying eyes, most of all away from Malfoy. The whispers were already starting, following him.
"Harry."
The strangled voice made him look up from the spot on the floor three feet or so in front of him he had been concentrating on as he walked.
It was Draco.
Draco walked into the Paediatrics Ward carrying Louisa who had been fussing all morning. It was not often that all seven children were taken out at once. They were simply too much for him, Rosie, Edith and Matthew to handle. Draco usually wouldn't have allowed her, or any of his children, to suck their hands in public but he allowed her today. She hadn't been well and was liable to cry if upset which was an even worse social crime than hand sucking. The girls wore white dresses that resisted all of there attempts to stain them and the boys wore white shirts and pants. Each of the dresses was slightly different in style so that they could be told apart. The cotton dresses were comfortable for the warm climate of the hospital and manor which were magically temperature controlled.
Draco opened the door to the waiting room for the three nurses that followed him and their strollers. Matthew was a rather burly young man but was good with the children. He could carry four of them at once. While Rosie and Edith weren't as strong as Matthew they quick and as the children were crawling and now starting to walk they were always heading off and needing someone to run after them.
"I have an appointment with Healer Rapherty," Draco told the witch at the desk.
"Certainly," she replied. "Under what name is that?"
"Malfoy."
The witch with curly yellow blonde hair offered him a smile as she skimmed down her chart. Then she frowned.
"It appears that there is multiple bookings under you name Mr Malfoy."
"That's right, one for each of the children; Christiana, Alana, William, Mitchell, Roberta, Jessica and Louisa here." He had got this response quite few times so now he didn't lash out at the poor hapless soul.
"Certainly, Mr Malfoy." She gave him a slightly confused smile and ticked off all of the names. "The Healer shouldn't be too long, he's a little behind schedule, if you would just take a seat."
"Thank-you," he replied and with a tilt of his head he went and took his seat with his nurses and children.
Several minutes later and Louisa had fallen asleep. It really was lucky that they had an appointment today. It seemed that Louisa had caught a cold, her first illness. Perhaps the Healer would be able to give her something to speed up the healing and something to protect the other children.
He watched as she clutched to his collar. Her breathing was slow and steady. He couldn't help the little smile that graced his lips. This was what being a parent was, appreciating the little things. Gently he stroked her hair, white blonde like his own.
Of all of his daughters Louisa was her Fathers Little Daughter by far. She always craved his presence and wanted to be held by him
Jessica was already the wildest of them. He recalled the time one of the manors hounds somehow found its way in and started sniffing around Mitchell who was sleeping. Jess had screamed and screamed at the great hound until Rosie had come running. She was also a bully to other children but never her siblings.
Alana was the more inquisitive child and rather quite, by far she was the most unusual in her behaviour. She was most like Harry when it came to looks. She had his beautiful eyes and a head of jet black hair that always seemed to stick out. She wasn't overly sociable with other children or adults and it always seemed that she didn't fit in. She would regularly sit and watch an everyday scene play out, a conversation, the changing of a nappy, anything really, just absorb the information. Unlike the other children she didn't talk. As far as Draco could remember, she had never spoken.
Christiana and Roberta were complete opposites. Chrissie was shy and quite while Roberta was loud and into everything but they were always together. Roberta would usually lead Chrissie off around the house. Half an hour later the wards around one of the rooms at Malfoy Manor would go off and Draco would have to go and rescue the girls.
Mitchell, the one of only two boys, had been a handful since his birth. The smallest off all of them at birth he had had to fight for life. Guests always seemed more drawn to him than any of the other children, there was that something about him you couldn't really describe.
And finally there was William. William was a very bright child. When he was isolated from his brother and sisters he was very quite, but with them he was noisy and playful.
"Mr Malfoy," said a voice, breaking him from his thoughts. Looking up he saw the witch who had signed him in originally. She stood there looking at him. Draco raised his eye brows as if to ask what she wanted. The witch startled a little and then began nattering about filling out some forms.
"I'll be right over," he said quietly, indicating to the little girl asleep on his lap. The witch nodded, her curls bouncing around her head, and walked off.
Draco slipped a hand under his daughter's hand, prying it from his robes. Slipping hands under her arms he lifted her up and gently handed her to Matthew who had seen the encounter and was waiting for the little girl. Louisa stirred in her sleep but did not wake. She looked so peaceful asleep. With a slight sigh Draco stood and went over the witch at the desk who handed him several sheets of parchment to read and fill out.
Placing the pile of parchment on the desk he reached for a quill and began filling in a few details that the witch he had made the appointment with had neglected. It was simply names, dates and a few bits of medical history. They had all of this information on file already but it was make sure that the information was correct and up to date.
Draco paused at the word Parent2. For clear reasons he had put himself down as Parent1 but Parent2 had not been filled out. Draco stared at the empty space for what seemed like an eternity to him. He didn't know whether or not to specify the father of his children or not. His quill tapped the edge of the paper repeatedly creating an ink stain. There was no medical benefit of naming Harry, even if there was an issue relating to genetics Draco would tell the Healer in person. There really was only an issue of honour to put down the name, to honour him through name by officially calling the children his and Harry's but that could lead to ruin. Of course the records were confidential, but that never stopped reporters filling the gossip columns. If people knew who that Harry Potter was the father of the children it could lead to the ruin of his good name. The public would sneer at their children and that was not something he would allow. Draco left Parent2 blank and continued to read the form.
Finally Draco added the last note and handed the sheets back to the witch behind the desk and went to check on his children. Rosie and Edith were entertaining five of the children, as Mitchell and Louisa were asleep. The nurses were sitting on the floor with the children. They had some blocks and other toys out. Draco watched as Will stacked some blocks only to knock them over again. A movement behind the prams caught his attention. Intrigued as to what was there he took a few steps around the prams that half shielded his children from the view of other people in the waiting room to spot Roberta and Christiana creeping away. Christiana had a small stuffed unicorn in hand and was following her sister.
"Roberta, Christiana, what are you doing?" Draco asked in his 'You're-About-To-Get-In-Trouble' voice.
Both girls stopped short, looking up at him. One may expect them to be on the verge of tears but Roberta was made of stronger stuff than that and had been in stickier situations. They both simply sat back and looked at him. Finally Christiana reached towards him with her empty hand. "Da." Her hand made a clasping motion at him and her mouth was wide with a smile.
Draco couldn't help but smile at her total lack of understanding of the situation. "Come on, girls," he said reaching down and picking up Christiana as she held out her hands to him. Roberta held out only one hand, insisting that she wanted to walk, a newly achieved feat. Christiana on his hip and Roberta holding his hand Draco slowly made his way around to the nurses.
"We have two escaped fugitives here," he said sitting them down again.
"Where were you two off to again?" asked Edith as she gave Roberta a small ball filled with swirling smoke that changed colours depending on where she held it. "Hhhhhmmmmmmm?"
Draco sat and played with the girls for a moment before going back over to Matthew and Louisa. He stopped to watch the little girl sit there asleep in her manny's arms. Her eyelashes looked so soft against her baby skin and her white hair was so soft. He couldn't help but smile at his little girl. She would grow up to be such a young lady. He couldn't help but reach out a hand towards her, his body giving into the need to touch her skin to assure that she was real once more. He touched her hair, a soft as the down on a new born chick. He stroked her cheek, as smooth as silk under his knuckle.
A flash outside the window above the seat where he had been sitting, and where Matthew was now, caught his attention. His eyes shot up expecting to see a photographer from the Prophet again, trying to get an exclusive snap shot for their article. But there was only a swirl of a black cape and the back of a head, the hair black and wild.
No, it can be! It has simply not been long enough.
Draco paused for a moment after they disappeared, his thoughts swirling, then he sprung. He raced around to the door of the waiting room, practically jumping into the hallway. But there was no one, not a single soul, in a black cloak. Two Healer in red robes stood conversing and a mother and daughter disappeared down the end of the hall. It was just a figment of his imagination.
Draco sighed, tightly reining in the impulse to hang his head and let a few tears fall. He was a Malfoy, he had to retain a certain level of decorum to maintain. Flicking his hands down his robes to remove some invisible wrinkles he stepped quietly into the waiting room again. Shutting the door practically silently he went back over to Louisa, ignoring the stares of two of the mothers.
He was so sure it had been Harry, but it must have been a figment of his imagination once more. He had had visions like that before. Once not a month after he had left for The Realm in the middle of a busy street in Diagon Alley and again when he was walking around the manor brooding with Alana. He would see a flash of a robe, the glint of his glasses. Not enough to identify a person but enough for him to know it was his love.
"Mr Malfoy."
Broken from his thoughts Draco looked up to the witch that worked at the desk.
"The Healer will see you now."
Draco nodded and stood. At some stage Louisa had woken but sat calmly with Matthew. Picking up Christiana and Roberta he directed them into the Healers office first. Edith and Rosie followed with Alana, Mitchell, William and Jessica, strollers and all. He greeted Healer Rapherty as he counted the children only to realise that Louisa and Matthew where missing.
After a moment he asked, "Where is Matthew?"
"I think that he was trying to calm Louisa when she started fussing in the waiting room. He didn't want her crying," answered Rosie.
"Just a moment Healer," he said and walked out of the office. Matthew was indeed sitting there trying frantically to calm Louisa as she looked on the verge of tears.
"Hey, would you like Teddy?" he asked trying to offer her a toy. It was not working though.
"Its okay, Matthew. Louisa darling wha-"
"Mr Potter!" shouted a voice from the hallway. Two seconds later Draco was out of the waiting room staring at him. It was him. It was really him. He was back.
"Harry," he said in a voice strangled by emotion.
His lover turned to him, rage filling his eyes, cape swirling around his legs, hair creating a dark halo. What hit him hardest of all were those eyes. The betrayal they held almost tore his chest open. Accusing eyes stared at him from behind those of a trapped animal. He looked the same as the day he had left.
"It's okay, just calm down," Draco said soothingly as if he was one of his children. He placed love into his voice.
Those dark eyes pierced him again, tearing at his soul. What was wrong? Of course he knew what was wrong. Harry had been in that world and he had been hurt. Draco had promised to help put his life back together and he would.
Harry moved forward towards him and then kept walking, his eyes focused down the other end of the hall. He couldn't help it as his hand shot out and grabbed Harry's arm.
The young wizard whirled away from his grip, twisting his arm away but Draco was quicker and grabbed the front of his cloak, preventing him from running away. Why was he doing this? Did he not want him any more? Draco loved him with all of his heart but if he wanted to leave he would let him?
"Harry what is it?" He turned his head away and continued to look down the hall. But Draco would not give up on him. "Harry I need you to talk to me, tell me what's wrong." He noticed the dark patch on the cloak. "What happened?" Still he did not talk. Draco used the hand which was not stopping Harry from leaving to gently tug away the torn cloth. Tenderly he touched the skin around the clotting wound to see if it was about to start bleeding again.
"Don't touch me," he hissed, tugging away once more but unable to pull free from Draco's grip. "Let me go."
Draco noticed a movement off to the side and turned to glare at a pair of Healers that were moving forward. The wizard and the witch stopped and he returned his gaze to Harry. "Promise me you won't dash off."
"I promise I will."
He did not understand what was wrong. What terrible thing he had done? What had been done to him?
"Talk to me," he said softly.
"Stop it." His eyes returned to Draco's face. "Stop pretending you care."
"Harry I do care," he insisted. Harry turned away to look down the hall once more.
"Go back to your lover, Malfoy."
That stung. "Harry you are my one and only lover."
"Don't lie to me!" he shouted. "I saw you with him." Harry jerked his head to someone behind Draco. He turned to see Matthew standing there with Louisa in his arms. "You have a child and yet you say you have had no other lover. I'm not stupid."
Draco shook his head in dismay. "Matthew is my nanny. I do not deny that Louisa is my daughter but I have had no other lovers," he said firmly. Harry tried to say something but he continued in a softer tone. "She is your daughter, Harry. Matthew helps me with the children as do Edith and Rosie." Harry still looked dubious. "Come and see your sons and daughters."
Harry stopped pulling against him allowing the cloak to go slack. "What?"
Draco smiled at the look of disbelieve on his face and stepped a little closer. "It has been a little over a year and a half, Harry. You have seven gorgeous children; five girls and two little boys." He simply stood there looking at Louisa.
"How?" he asked.
Draco spoke softly so no one else but the two of them could hear. "Not only women can become pregnant, Harry. The week before you left…" Draco allowed Harry to make the connection.
He was happy now. His lover was really back. "Let the Healers fix your arm and then you can come and see your children." Harry nodded absently, his gaze still locked on Louisa. He appeared fascinated with her.
Draco motioned forward one of the Healers while he shifted his grip from Harry's cloak and took his hand. Draco was very please when he returned the grip. The Healer fixed the cut with a few swipes of his wand and then tried to insist that Harry be taken for a full examination. Draco expressed how he very much disliked that idea and shooed the Healer away.
"Come on," he said softy, taking Harry by his good arm and leading him over to Louisa and Matthew. He couldn't help but smile. Matthew stood there strong and tall with the little girl in her white cotton dress sitting neatly against his side. "Louisa, say 'Hello' to Harry."
"Hewow," she said softy looking at Harry. Then she turned to Draco, her arms stretched out. "Da." Draco chuckled as he stepped forward and Matthew sat Louisa against her Da's side. All the while Draco continued to hold Harry's hand, as if afraid that if he let go he would disappear. One hand under Louisa and the other firmly clasping Harry's Draco lead him through the waiting room, Matthew following behind them.
"They all have an appointment today," he explained, drinking in the look from Harry's still astonished eyes. "There's Louisa, who is right here, and Roberta, Christiana, Jessica, Alana, Mitchell and William," he explained. Opening the door to the Healers office they were met with a flurry of activity. Healer Rapherty had Roberta and Mitchell up on the bench and was in the process of examining Roberta while Rosie tried to hold down a squirming Mitchell. Edith was trying to round up the other four. She had already clipped William in the stroller and was trying to capture Christiana who was rapidly crawling away in the other direction. While her back was turned, William had unbuckled himself and was in the process of getting down from the stroller. Jessica was pulling on the leaves of the ornamental fern in the corner of the office. Alana was sitting there watching Edith case Christiana.
Matthew ducked around the couple and over to Jessica to rescue the plant from her little hands. Hearing a chuckle Draco turned to Harry.
"Is it always like this?" he asked.
"Pretty much."
Harry looked down and Draco followed his gaze to find Alan clinging to Harry's cloak.
"Dada," she said. Then she stretched out her arms and made several 'uh, uh, uh' sounds.
"She want's you to pick her up, Harry," he said softly in awe, letting go of his hand. That was the first word she had ever spoken. All of his other children called him 'Da' so she was definitely speaking to Harry.
"Why did she call me that?" he asked uncertainly.
"I have no idea." The blonde paused, and then added, "She wants you to pick her up."
"I don't know how."
"Just put your hands under her arms." Harry bent down following his instructions. "That's right. Now just lift her up." Harry stood back up and following Draco's lead placed her against his side. "That's good." Together they looked so ideal to Draco, the perfect daughter and father. Alana placed her head over her dada's heart and closed her eyes when Harry stroked her hair.
Draco couldn't help it. He reached for Harry's chin pulling him forward a little and kissed him tenderly. They had a long way to go yet but he was ready for it. He didn't know what Harry had suffered in his time in The Realm but it wouldn't have been tea and cake. But he was here and they would get through this together. Harry would heal and grow and they would be a proper family. A whole family.
AN: Reviews would be greatly appreciated.