A/N: Greetings again, lovely Drarry readers. Upon request, I have decided to whip up a little dramatic sequel to the short fic "Emerald Roses". I highly recommend reading it prior to reading this sequel. Both fics were intended to be one-shots but due to length they were split into two chapters. I do hope you enjoy this and thank you for reading! Also, a million thanks to my very amazing beta, Arithmancy Master, I fear the state my current and late fics would be in without her!
Rating: Mature
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters nor this universe. If you recognize it, it is not mine most unfortunately.
Forgive Me
Chapter One
A small whimper drew his attention from beyond the door left slightly ajar. Pushing it open gently and walking on his toes, as quiet as one could, Harry snuck his way into the darkened bedroom where the only source of light was a small, luminescent ball resting on top of a dresser. Shadows of dragon toys danced about the yellow walls as Harry lowered himself to his knees and placed his hand on Teddy Lupin's back. He massaged him soothingly, humming lowly, as another whimper sounded from the boy.
Despite the dark, and Harry's less than average eyesight, he could make out the odd colour of Teddy's hair. What was interesting about a metamorphmagus who often had nightmares was that he generally, without knowledge, projected who he was dreaming about in his physical appearance. His hair was bright pink which was not uncommon to be seen in the middle of the night.
"Sh, Teddy," Harry whispered.
The thirteen year old boy made a small noise of acknowledgement before rolling from his stomach to his side. Harry prodded him gently awake. The more he stirred the more his hair returned to its natural brown, shaggy state. Wandlessly, Harry gestured at the ball of light upon the dresser and it softly brightened even more. "It's time to get ready," he persisted.
The whimpers gone and instead left with a groan, Teddy grabbed a hold of his pillow and covered his head with it. "S'too early," he mumbled.
"Yes, well, you were the one who wanted to leave your shopping till literally the last day. If we don't go now you won't have any books to bring to school," Harry reasoned, his voice hardening slightly now as he rose.
"You could owl them to me," Teddy returned, his voice slightly muffled.
Harry chuckled, shaking his head. 'Teenage boys,' he thought to himself. "You have as much of a chance of that happening as you do asking Victoire Weasley to the Yule Ball this year," he teased.
In a quick motion, Teddy's pillow was suddenly flying at Harry who caught it. Even after all these years, he still had the reflexes of a Seeker. "Come on, then, we haven't all morning."
Leaving Teddy to rise on his own, brightening the orb of light as he went, Harry padded down from his guest room to the bathroom where James was sleepily brushing his teeth. Catching his Dad looking at him from the doorway smiling softly, James shot him a small scowl. "Is nobody a morning person in this house?"
James spat into the sink from his stepping stool and rinsed his toothbrush. "You don't like mornings either, Dad," he accused, jumping off the stool as he did.
As true as that was, Harry always enjoyed waking up early on this particular day. "I don't think so James," he stopped his son from leaving the bathroom, gesturing to his head.
"But Dad, it just gets messy again! What's the point of brushing it?" James whined.
Harry laughed. James reminded him so much of himself. "Either you can do it or I can," he reasoned.
Petulantly, James turned back and grabbed his brush from the bathroom drawer. With a pout he started running it through his unruly hair that was now the length of his shoulders. Being only eight, his mother Ginny desperately had attempted to cut it multiple times but James would not have any of it. True to Potter fashion, his hair would regrow overnight. He always boasted to his parents and Rose Weasley (his best friend and cousin) that soon he would have hair as long as his Uncle Bill's.
Checking in on Teddy to make sure he really was getting ready, to which he responded, "Piss off, I'm up!", which was answered with the most disapproving of looks and a muttered mention of his Nana Andromeda, Harry went off into the kitchen to make breakfast.
The sun had yet to even make an appearance, however, Harry was excited. September First had to be one of his favourite days of the year; especially since Andromeda Tonks always allowed him to be the one to see Teddy off on the Hogwarts Express. Perched on the open window just above his kitchen sink was his companion, hooting an early greeting at him. "Pinna," Harry greeted affectionately, summoning some of her owl treats as he held out his hand to her.
Pinna nipped them from his palm and cooed as much as an owl can as Harry ran his hand through her feathers gently; she nuzzled into the touch. Nobody could ever replace the bond Harry had with Hedwig, however, he loved Pinna just the same. "Any mail, girl?" he asked, but the owl merely hooted. Clearly there was no news from the evening before; not that Harry expected any. The only mail he ever received would be from Ron and Hermione which was always delivered by Pigwidgeon, not Pinna, or from the Ministry if something dire occurred or a meeting had been placed posthaste in his department.
Before the boys were even finished getting ready – they were always slow moving in the morning but Harry had never met a boy their ages that was not – he had two breakfast sandwiches prepared for them and a small breakfast shoved down himself. They really did not have the time to spare as somehow Teddy had gone all summer holidays without retrieving his school things in any capacity. They had to be at King's Cross by eleven at the latest to catch the Hogwarts Express meaning they would have to do all of his shopping within a mere hour and a half.
It was a quiet trip to the Leaky Cauldron where Harry parked his barely used car outside of the establishment. He greeted the bartender, Tom, in a quick hurry before making his way off through the back to the entrance of Diagon Alley. The wonderment of the market still awed James unlike Teddy who, in keeping with his rebellious reputation, looked displeased during the whole shopping experience. James stayed close to Harry the entire time, basically hanging off the hem of his plain robes. Ignoring the onlookers (who were mostly children as most of the adult population of the wizarding world was thankfully accustomed to Harry's presence now), they shopped in a hurry. Flourish and Blotts already had Teddy's books set aside, requested by Harry late the previous evening, and the only purchasing that took any time would be the fitting of new robes. Teddy had grown at least two or three inches in a year.
James was off in the back of Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions alongside Teddy as Harry waited with Teddy's school things in tow by the door in a seating area. They were making splendid time, much to Harry's surprise, as they still had two hours to make it onto the train and this would be their final stop.
"Do you remember when we met here?" a silken voice startled Harry who had not heard the door bells chime as it opened.
"I'll be up in a few moments, dear!" came Madame Malkin's call from the back room. "Mr. Potter, put that down!" she could be heard snapping afterwards.
Harry blushed and stood to greet Draco, he bit his lower-lip and awkwardly held out his hand to be shook. Draco raised an ever so elegant eyebrow at the gesture and ignored it, moving to embrace Harry instead. His arms wrapped about Harry's waist, his chest pressed against his own, his fading platinum hair tickled Harry's cheek as his warm breath hit his ear. "Now, is that any way to say hullo?"
A shiver sent itself through Harry who quickly embraced Draco in return before separating them both. "Sorry, you know how it is," Harry muttered, gesturing to the window where those walking by thankfully had not noticed the two embracing.
Draco sighed, cocking his hip slightly as he crossed his arms. "Unfortunately yes, I do," he drawled, clearly displeased.
Ever since their eventful reuniting back in February of this year, they had been seeing one another regularly. However, only when James was not around and they would only meet in Muggle areas of London or at one another's homes. Draco had voiced his opinion on multiple occasions that their relationship should no longer be kept secret but Harry was too nervous about how his son would react to the knowledge of them.
"What are you doing here?" Harry questioned, shoving his hands into his pocket and looking nervously at the door to the back room. In all their time together, they had yet to meet in public when James was with Harry. He was unsure of how to explain his relation with this man to his eight year old son.
"Scorpius and I required new robes for the Ministry Ball next week," Draco informed, "As do you."
Harry pulled a strained face, "I do not. What's wrong with my old robes?"
"Potter, are you referring to the robes that are two sizes too small and that ghastly, faded, black that make you look like Snape's offspring?" Draco teased, his mouth pulling into a smirk at Harry's blush.
"Shove off, Malfoy," Harry muttered. "It's not like you have to be seen with me anyway."
Draco leaned in slightly, his face too close to Harry's as they breathed in each other's air briefly. Harry swallowed. 'Merlin, how come I always want him whenever I see him?' he inwardly moaned. "No, but I need something good to look at while I am there. I have them selected for you already, you need only get them fitted."
"Of course you do," Harry mumbled, this did not surprise him in the least. Even on their Muggle dates, Draco often slyly suggested what Harry was to wear. On their second date, Draco literally bought, picked out, and sent Harry his clothes.
A small cough alerted them from the back area of the shop. Teddy was standing with his hands shoved deep into his tattered jean pockets. His messy hair turned a sudden jet black colour with a hint of streaked red. "For school spirit," he grumbled. He looked like such a miserable thirteen year old but Harry knew better; it was a phase, as most teenagers go through, and the moment Teddy was around his friends or Victoire his demeanor altered completely.
At Teddy's presence, Harry distanced himself as much as possible from Draco. "Er, you know Dra – I mean, Mr. Malfoy, right, Teddy?"
Teddy appeared absolutely nonchalant as he regarded his Godfather and the slightly taller, impeccably dressed man in question. "He is my cousin, you know."
"Right, well, yeah I just…" Harry stopped himself as he heard Draco chuckle lowly and blushed. "Shut up," he whispered at him.
James finally emerged from the back room with a frazzled looking Madame Malkin dragging him by the sleeve of his robes. "Mr. Potter, dare I say your son is taking after that devil of an Uncle of his," she tutted disapprovingly, releasing him to his father.
Harry need not ask which Uncle she was referring to; that much was a given, but he did have to try to supress his bemused smirk. "What was it this time, James? Don't tell me, dungbombs?"
"Dungbombs are so stupid. I was only testing out Uncle George's new Tickling Ticking Spiders!"
"Sorry about him, Madame Malkin, you know how boys can be. I hope he didn't damage anything?" Harry queried.
Madame Malkin's tight frown slowly upturned into a soft smile. "Not at all, Mr. Potter, I would just hate to be the next shop in Diagon Alley to ban Weasley products from my store. I do adore their Pigmy Puffs."
"I'll make sure to remember that," Harry smiled sweetly causing the shop owner's cheeks to tint. "I'll handle you later," he warned his son, casting a wandless and wordless tempus as he did. They were losing precious time to get to crowded King's Cross.
"Always so impressive, Potter," Draco drawled, referencing the wandless magic.
Harry had to bite back the red creeping up his neck and ignored Draco's commentary. "Come on, boys, if you miss the train your Nana will feed me to the grindylows."
Ushering out the boys, after paying Madame Malkin, Harry turned to Draco once he was certain his son was not paying any attention as he stepped onto the street alongside Teddy. "Are we still on for tonight?"
"Ah, that depends. Are you sure you wish to be seen with me?" Draco returned. Though he didn't sound it, Harry knew he was peeved. Every time they met by chance in public around other wizards Draco would end up in a foul mood. He was known to even throw fits for days at a time over it.
"I'll Floo over around seven," he said, ignoring the rhetorical question.
The journey to King's Cross was filled with James asking Teddy to alter his appearance; which he only did a few times before turning his attention out the window. Harry knew James was nearly as excited as he was to see Teddy off onto the Hogwarts Express; he couldn't wait to join him at Hogwarts and Harry couldn't believe it would only be three years until he did.
Once they ended up on Platform Nine and Three Quarters with half an hour to spare (which Harry congratulated himself for that feat), James spotted the unmistakeable long red-hair in the distance. Taking off at a run, ignoring his father's call to be careful, James tackled his Uncle Bill unceremoniously amidst the crowd.
"James isn't going to care," Teddy said suddenly from Harry's side.
"Hm?"
"About Malfoy. He's already used to his mum having a different husband, he's not going to care that you're dating Malfoy," Teddy elaborated.
Harry turned to look at him, shocked, but Teddy was looking out across the crowd, his blue eyes squinting in hopes to find a very particular Weasley. "How did you – I mean, we're not…"
"Hey, I don't care and neither will he. But if you don't want him to know, you might want to stop being so obvious whenever you see him," he advised.
As Bill and Fleur Weasley approached Harry, Victoire made herself visible. Teddy immediately straightened up and ran a hand through his hair, readjusting his jumper. Harry raised an eyebrow bemusedly, "You're one to talk," he mumbled.
Teddy turned a vibrant shade of red that nearly matched the Weasleys' hair. "Bill, how've you been?" Harry greeted, shaking his hand and turning to Fleur who reluctantly held out her own – she never was one for being touched by anyone other than Bill. "Fleur, looking lovely."
"Victoire, say salut to Mr. Potter," Fleur directed her daughter, who inclined her head. Unlike most Weasleys, she was a shy, dainty girl who always appeared slightly flustered.
"Dad, Bill said I could go over to the cottage this weekend! Can I, can I?" James asked his father excitedly.
Harry chuckled and rolled his eyes. "You have to ask your mother that, James."
Victoire and Teddy said their awkward hellos, always averting their gaze whenever their eyes met, before bidding their parents and godparent goodbye. After catching up briefly with the Weasleys as they watched and waved the Hogwarts Express farewell, Harry led James back out to the car. "We have to step into the office for a little while," he reminded James.
"Oh, can I visit Aunt Hermione?"
"Maybe." James knew better than to ask about visiting Uncle Ron; if he was in the office, he would most likely visit them of his own accord. It was a Thursday afternoon and by the time they arrived at the Ministry it was absolutely buzzing with business.
James attached a visitors badge to his robe, although nearly every employee could spot the famous Harry Potter lookalike a mile away, and followed his father up to his office. "You remember the rules?" Harry questioned his son as he sat down at his large oak desk and reached into his inbox of files.
"Yeah, no Weasley products allowed," James grumbled dejectedly and took a seat in one of the chairs only after grabbing a handful of licorice whips from the bowl of them on Harry's desk.
His office, constructed with three glass walls, looked out onto the rest of the Magical Law Enforcement office. Ron must have spotted Harry because he was soon making his way into the office, levitating an envelope in front of him with a sour look on his face. Without knocking, he opened the door and seemed not to notice James sitting cross-legged in the chair with its back to Ron. "You better tell your boy-"
"Uncle Ron!" Harry cut him off very suddenly, gesturing at the occupied seat.
Ron flushed and corrected himself. "Tell Donovan to quit putting every telegram he sends you in a biting envelope," he finished, dropping the envelope onto the desk.
"Biting envelope?" James repeated curiously, reaching out onto Harry's desk for said envelope only to have his father pick it up faster than he could. "Like a Howler?"
"Wotcher, James," Ron smirked at his nephew. "Not like a Howler," he explained, "When somebody sends a letter to a very specific person, the envelope will bite anybody else who touches it."
James frowned at the envelope Harry was tearing open. Ron observed his best friend's sudden look of defeat and clapped his nephew on the back. "James, why don't you go and see what your Aunt 'Mione is doing? I heard she was having some goblins in for another testimony."
Excited by the prospect, as he usually was, to interact with another creature, James asked his dad's permission before taking off out of his office and towards the elevators. Having spent more than enough time at the Ministry, James knew his way around the place by himself at this point. Ron took James' vacated seat and before he could even ask what was wrong, as Harry knew he was going to, he tossed him the telegram that had been concealed in the envelope. "Bring wine and if you are lucky I will let you in tonight, Potter, my Floo is closed," Ron read aloud, sighing and tossing the parchment back onto Harry's desk. "What did you do this time?" Even at this point Ron knew that if Draco was requesting Harry bring wine, he was pissed.
"Same as always. He just doesn't know what it's like, you know? I can't just tell James I'm seeing Draco Malfoy of all people and if the Prophet ever finds out, well, you know exactly what is going to happen and what people are going to say. I don't want James to have to deal with that," Harry expounded.
Ron bit off a piece of a licorice whip, chewing for a moment before sighing. "I don't think you give little Prongster enough credit, mate," Ron said earnestly, Harry's lips twitching at the nickname. "But doesn't Malfoy know what it's like? He's got Scorpio-"
"Scorpius," Harry quickly corrected.
"Right, Scorpius," Ron waved it off uncaringly, "And he is the same age as James."
"Yeah, but that poor kid has seen his mother go through four men already and he's only eight! I don't want to do that to James," he admitted.
Ron leaned forward in his chair, eyeing his friend levelly. "It's been what, six, seven months? I mean, I can see why Malfoy's getting a little ticked, mate."
Harry blinked, it was odd to hear Ron agreeing with the ex-Slytherin in any form. "I'm just not ready; what if something happened? How can I even explain it all to James?"
"Listen, he knows you're interested in both sides of the fence, as much as an eight year-old can understand that, and you just have to be honest with him."
As much as he did not wish to admit it, he knew his friend was right. Harry had been avoiding making his and Draco's relationship public for a long time and for a variety of reasons. The rest of the day he had the thought of coming out weighing down on his shoulders and he realized that he still could not publicly commit to Draco. Deciding to retrieve the most expensive red wine he possibly could from the shop after Flooing James over to his mother's, he arrived at Draco's front door only ten minutes late – which for Harry was pretty good timing.
When Draco opened the door, he immediately stepped outside and quickly shut it, forcing Harry to take a step back from his front porch. 'Definitely still peeved,' Harry concluded at once, despite Draco showing absolutely no sign of emotion. "Mm, you looked so beautiful today at Madame Malkin's, you have no idea how much I wanted to do this," Harry hummed in hopes of getting back into his boyfriend's good graces as he craned his neck slightly upwards to capture his lips.
Draco, however, was not having any of it and turned his cheek. "We are going out," he ordered sharply, stepping around Harry and towards the pavement before his townhouse.
"Going out? But, I brought you your wine," Harry gestured to the bagged bottle in his hand.
"And I said if you were lucky I would consider allowing you inside my home," Draco seethed. He was dressed in Muggle attire so Harry knew at once where he was headed. Going to his car and depositing the wine into his boot, Harry hurried after Draco, he did not live too far from his favourite little coffee shop.
"Draco, c'mon," Harry began pleadingly as he caught up to him. "I didn't have time this morning to exactly spring our relationship onto my son," he tried to reason.
Draco tutted. "Yes, and you never have time, right Potter?" he accused. The sharpness in his tone told Harry he had dug himself rather deep this time, perhaps the shovel was even broken.
"You just don't get it," Harry muttered beneath his breath, much to his own stupidity as he was instantly regretting having said anything at all. 'I really should just keep quiet whenever he is in these moods,' he chastised himself.
"Of course I do not get it, it is not like I also have a son," Draco snapped.
"Scorpius is a lot less emotional than James; he can handle-" 'Just shut up! Why do I keep talking?' Harry inwardly yelled.
"Cannot handle what? His father finally having a relationship, finally being happy, after seven bloody years? He seems perfectly content with his mother's arrangement – he has a half-sister for Salazar's sake!" Draco indicted, calling Harry on his bluff. That much was true, they both knew it, that James would most likely be comfortable knowing of his father's relationship. "Or is it something else you think James would not be able to handle? We both know he has dealt with his fair share of Prophet vultures, so it is not that…" his voice was turning almost venomous at this point, he must have been festering over this issue all day. "Could it be you are ashamed, Potter? Ashamed to admit to your son you are seeing a Death Eater?"
Harry groaned, he wished there was something he could currently smack his head off of. He really had to remember to remain quiet while Draco was experiencing one of his moods. "You know it's not that, I didn't raise my son to be prejudiced."
"Then what, Potter? What else – oh, I see," Draco clipped, his mouth tightening into a thin line. They were rounding on the café now, the usual younger crowd and smoke-filled shop pounding with the music from that evening's band. Without addressing what he meant by 'I see' and Harry knowing better than to ask, they entered the café.
Mar, the owner and good friend of Draco's, greeted them and hurried to bring about their usual drinks. "Need me to make that latte as Irish as I can, Dray?"
Draco's eyes narrowed at the nickname, "No thank you Mort-"
Nigel, much to his fiance's gratitude, interrupted the sputtering of the nickname Harry had yet to hear over the course of seven months. "Sweetie, Clara's having a bit of a tussle in the back, love," he informed her. "Boys, cheers," he raised his beer to them before directing Marina to the kitchen who was grumbling something about teenaged employees.
"Do you want to – okay, yup, you lead the way then," Harry said to himself as he followed Draco who stiffly went to sit at their usual table.
They sat in subdued silence for quite some time, Harry tried to distract himself from Draco's growing moodiness as he listened to the band – The Drysdale Dames, if he could recall correctly – but his eyes kept falling back on his lover. Even when he was angry, Harry still found him to be the most gorgeous man he had ever laid eyes on. Even with his lips drawn into a scowl, Draco looked like he absolutely had to have some Veela blood in him. There could be no other explanation for how attractive Harry, and everybody else around him, always found the man. Even having a relatively inactive job, Draco had remained very fit over the years – slimmer than Harry who was muscled from the pick-up Quidditch matches and the semi-monthly auror training he participated in.
"So, I was at the office today and Ron requested you stopped sending him biting envelopes. You could've just sent the owl to me," Harry said loudly over the music and voices of the café, hoping the change in conversation would elicit something more than disdain from Draco.
"I knew you were still at King's Cross when I sent it," Draco returned, his grey eyes were drilling into Harry as he spoke.
Unlike others when they were mad, Draco had this unnerving talent of sculpting his face into an emotionless, unblinking portrait. It unnerved Harry, making him squirm in his seat. "Draco," he exhaled, "Stop this. You know how much I hate it when you're upset."
Draco's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Oh, and it's all about the great Boy Who Lived, isn't it?" he snapped, pushing up from his chair and storming off into the bathroom.
"No, Draco, you know – bugger," Harry swore, getting up to follow him. The longer he left Draco to himself, the greater the chance of him apparating home was. Just before the bend of the café in the back beside the counter, Nigel stopped him.
"He looked pretty pissed, mate, what didya do this time?" Nigel asked in his cockney accent.
"It's not really important," Harry tried to push past him.
"Mar always likes her space when she's raggin'," he counselled. "It's not like he's gonna jump out the window and take off on yah."
Harry raised his eyebrows, feeling rather impatient at the moment. "Remember a few months back when he did just that?" he supplied for Nigel's ever failing memory.
Nigel's eyes went wide and he grinned, "Bloody hell, I'd forgotten about that. Mar's gotta put some locks on 'em windows."
Walking passed him now, Harry thought idly to himself how locks wouldn't stop Draco from apparating home as he had before. Very rarely did the two of them spat with one another in any serious form over the past seven months but when they did it was always concerning the secrecy of their relationship.
When he came to the door of one of the two private bathrooms, Harry rapped on it. "Piss off," came Draco's curt response.
"Draco, just hear me out," Harry pleaded even though he had no idea what exactly he was going to say to meander his way through Draco's impossible moods. Harry jiggled the door handle to find it was locked, he sighed as he pressed his forehead against the door.
"It's locked and you can't draw your wand in-"
Harry waved his hand over the doorknob, unlocking it and pushing his way inside. "Dammit," Draco swore. He was leaning over the sink, his hands gripping the porcelain, and his sleeves rolled up. Resolutely, Harry came up behind him and snaked his arms about his waist. He pressed his front into Draco, resting his head on his shoulder with a little difficulty considering how Draco was an inch taller than himself. At the embrace Draco tensed but did not move, he shivered, however, as Harry's left hand ran down his bare arm, his fingers trailing the faded Dark Mark.
"This," he breathed, "Would never stop me from telling people how much I care about you. I love this," he whispered truthfully. Dragging up eyes up from the tap, Draco looked at their reflection in the mirror, his eyes asking the silent question. "It always reminds me where you came from. I like that. It reminds me that in spite of everything, I still love being with you."
Reaching across himself, Draco caught Harry by the wrist and spun himself around so that they were face-to-face and he was looking down at his partner, still clearly unhappy. He was leaning up against the sink now, pursing his lips. "I understand why you wish to keep our relation secret, Potter."
Harry relaxed, placing his hands on either side of Draco's as he refused to give him space – the closer he stayed, he knew the more likely Draco would be to give into his lame apology. "Thanks, I'm glad you understand. I just need more time," he insisted.
"Yes, I know exactly why…you do not want to do what Astoria does to Scorpius," Draco provided.
"Exactly!" Harry agreed but at the sudden narrowing of Draco's eyes he knew he was now in deeper than before. "Fuck, Draco, it's not like that! It's just – it's you and me, it wasn't supposed to work in the first place! I don't want to get James attached to anybody and then have them leave."
"I have no intention of leaving, Potter," he spat, "If that is how you feel, however, be my guest," he gestured at the door.
Harry exasperatedly exhaled. "You know that's not what I mean."
Draco remained masked, his eyes resting on Harry again, burrowing into him. If he didn't know any better, Harry would assume he was performing Legilimency on him. "If you are so certain that we will not remain together, it makes sense why you are still here. Oh yes, so many men have been just like you, Potter, sticking around hoping to get another good lay."
At the insinuation, anger bubbled in Harry's chest, he growled and pushed off from the sink. Draco appeared pleased with himself, he always aimed to enrage Harry when they fought; it made him feel as if he had bested him as he remained calm. "You fucking know I wouldn't do that!"
"Do I? Why would you not? We are obviously not going to last much longer otherwise. I mean, what kind of future is there for a Death Eater and the precious golden boy?"
"Why would I not?" Harry repeated, "Why would I not? Because I love you, goddammit!" he yelled. Ringing silence followed the confession; it had never been spoken before then. Harry was breathing hard now, raggedly, his ears turning pink at his words. "I love you, Draco," he reiterated softly.
If Draco was surprised or in any way sentimentalized by the confession, he did not show it. "I am in love with you and that scares me more than anything. I didn't think…after Ginny, I didn't think I could ever love somebody – I thought she was the one for me and that wasn't true and now…now I'm in love with you and it scares me," he confessed.
"Prove it," Draco said levelly.
Harry blinked. "What?"
"Prove it. Come on, Potter, you can hardly ever prove your word anymore, show me you can at least prove that."
At the insult, Harry quickly advanced. He didn't even have to look at the door nor gesture at it to lock it. "I will give you anything, Draco. If you want me to come into the public with you, fine. Fine. Just as long as I can bloody have you in every fucking way I can, I will do it."
Draco's lips drew into a thin, tight line, the corners of them curling into an impish smirk. "Prove it," he repeated, his voice lower than before.
The tone was recognizable to Harry who couldn't help but breathe a heavy sigh of relief. Every time Draco was forgiving Harry, he did it in such a way that always ended with at least one of them being thoroughly satisfied. "Oh, I'll prove it to you," Harry muttered, advancing on his lover.
Harry leaned up against Draco again but this time he placed his hands on his hips and ground into him. The friction finally elicited a warm reaction from Draco as he moaned gently into Harry's hair, his own hands twisting on the edge of the porcelain. "It will take a lot of convincing," Draco added, causing Harry to grin up at him as his hands worked at the belt of Draco's slacks.
"I was hoping it would," he purred and instead of kissing his lips Harry dove into Draco's neck, sucking on the patch of skin just behind his ear – where he knew he was most sensitive.
Draco immediately moved his hands onto Harry at the feeling, letting out a hiss as Harry sucked harder. Within a few minutes Harry had worked his way down, unbuttoned Draco's shirt and lingered for a moment at the large white mark on his chest. Nearly every time Harry saw him shirtless he paused there, frowning at the imperfection of his pale skin. "This is hardly convincing to me," Draco drawled, distracting him from the scar from the sectumsempra curse sent at him all those years ago.
Resuming his work, Harry used his mouth and hands all the way down Draco's body, touching and teasing the most sensitive parts of him, spending a fair amount of time on the man's nipples. On his knees, Harry released Draco's hardening cock from his trousers. The blond man sighed and let his head fall backwards, his eyes closed as his face was turned towards the ceiling with one hand bracing himself and the other sitting on the back of his lover's head.
With a tight grip, Harry held onto the base of Draco's cock as his other hand found and cupped his bollocks, massaging them gently. Harry nearly covered his dick with his mouth but paused in thought and instead he flicked out his tongue, barely touching the tip of Draco's penis.
Draco sucked in a sharp breath, his muscles tensing, but said nothing. Until Harry did it again. And again. The fifth time Harry's wet, warm tongue came into contact with his cock at the same time as his hand gave a very slight pump at the base of it, Draco looked hungrily down at him. "Tell me you want me," Harry said, only to blow out hot air afterwards, causing Draco's cock to twitch.
"You know I do, Potter. Hurry up or else I will fuck you into the wall," Draco snarled heatedly.
Harry chuckled, Draco was always so vocal and demanding when it came to sex and it never ceased to arouse and amuse him. "I won't let you this time," and they were both well aware that despite Harry often letting Draco take control, he was still the stronger of the two. "Tell me you want me," he repeated, squeezing Draco's cock at the same time and giving it one long, slow pump.
Clenching his jaw, Draco wound his fingers through Harry's hair hard enough to make the brunet wince. "I want you to suck my cock, Potter. Harry," he added huskily.
Obligingly, Harry lowered his lips to Draco's head and took all of it into his mouth. He twirled his tongue around the tip, sucked as hard as he could, and came off again. Draco's breathing was becoming sharper by the moment as Harry rolled back on his ankles slightly to take a good, long look at his boyfriend. "You are so fucking hot," he breathed.
"Because you make me," Draco returned, his hip muscles tensing as he jerked forward in hopes to have Harry engulf the length of him again.
Knowing that if he waited much longer Draco would assuredly attempt to overcome him and fuck him into the wall (it was certainly something he had done before, though not in this particular bathroom surprisingly enough), Harry took as much as he could of Draco's cock into his mouth. Relaxing at last, Draco's grip on Harry's hair loosened as he looked down his body to watch Harry work his hand and mouth expertly around his cock.
A few minutes into the apology, a loud knocking came at the door. "Whoever is in there, you've been in there long enough!" came Mar's voice booming through the door.
Harry mumbled something and whatever it was became the most beautiful noise Draco had ever heard and he moaned aloud, unable to stop himself. The way Harry had actually attempted to speak while his mouth was full of Draco's cock – it was the sexiest thing he had ever heard. "Draco! Is that you – you mother fucking-"
With a wave of Harry's hand, Mar's voice suddenly became silent and they no longer heard any of the commotion from the café nor the band. Draco was, once again, thankful for Harry's wandless magic talents – they certainly came in handy more often than not. Picking up his pace, Harry's jaw must have been growing tired because he was working vigorously now, not to Draco's displeasure.
Aware that he could make all the noise he wanted to, Draco did just that as he began to buck his hips into Harry's mouth. "Fuck, Harry, that's it. Yes," he hissed, "Yes, fuck yes don't stop…I'm going to come," the last sentence came more as a warning than anything else and so Harry moved more enthusiastically until he felt the grip in his hair tighten and Draco's cock flex in his mouth, his come coating his tongue and throat. "Harry, fuck," Draco swore again, letting go of him as he finished.
Swallowing and bringing a hand to the side of his jaw, massaging it gently, he stood, smiling at Draco. "Forgive me?"
Doing his trousers up, Draco raised an eyebrow. "As long as you keep your word."
Despite the silencing charm, they heard a muddled bang on the door again. Harry laughed, shaking his head, "Mar is going to fillet us."
"I doubt it," Draco said as he turned towards the mirror, checking his appearance quickly. "Nigel and she have fucked in here more than I can recall."
Harry pulled a disgusted face. "That was something I did not need to know," he commented, shaking the intrusive image from his head.
"I haven't my wand, Harry," he simply said.
"Oh, right, sorry." With another wave the noise flooded back to the bathroom and the door clicked open. Mar immediately threw it open, her hand on her hip, looking displeased or amused – Harry wasn't certain which one.
"Of course it was you two, who else would have the balls to do that in my café?"
Linking his arm around Harry's waist, pulling his boyfriend close to his side, Draco smirked. "Other than you, Mar? Nobody."
After what Mar perceived as a compliment (Harry could never quite understand her), Draco hurriedly excused themselves after paying the tab for their completely untouched drinks. He led them out onto the street, away from the smoke-filled café. "Where are we going?" Harry inquired.
"Back to open that wine you brought me."
Harry smiled. He couldn't be more relieved. He was certain one of these days he was going to bugger up what was becoming the best relationship he had ever been a part of, but today was not one of those days. Today, he was still huddled into Draco's side, their arms around one another, as they enjoyed the brisk evening walk back to his home.
Draco's house was a quaint property in one of the nicer neighbourhoods; modern, chic, and Harry was often in disbelief that Draco had settled for such a small place – despite it being twice the size of his own home.
"Did you really decide on robes for me to wear to that ridiculous Ministry ball?" Harry asked once they were finally at Draco's abode.
"Ridiculous?" Draco returned, bemused, as he poured them both full glasses of the dark red wine Harry had retrieved. "I would have assumed you would think it a wonderful thing your friend was being inaugurated as Minister for his fourth term."
"I do, I do. I just don't think the party is necessary nor my attendance," he explained, taking a large sip of the drink before scowling and reluctantly swallowing. "Can't I just have rye? Please?"
"You get too…you know what, yes, of course you can," Draco corrected himself, taking the wine glass and drinking it as his own.
Harry rolled his eyes, he knew Draco would polish off both glasses in a short period. "You could just drink from the bottle, I wouldn't mind," he teased.
Draco shot him a withering glance as he prepared Harry's double rye on the rocks. Harry eyed it curiously as he settled himself on the stool at the sleek island in the kitchen. "I just had you off, Malfoy, what exactly are you trying to do here?" he queried suggestively at the strong drink.
"Oh, nothing at all," Draco responded feigning innocence. "I placed an order at that shop in Hogsmeade for your robes last week, you need only get them fitted now."
"Thanks, I guess, but my old robes are fine."
Draco raised his eyebrow, sitting across from Harry, his foot automatically finding his boyfriend's calf. "Your definition of good dress astounds me to this day. You would assume some of my influence should have rubbed off on you. Though, I must admit I do prefer you with no clothes on at all," he advocated, his voice dropping as he leaned on his elbows across the table, grey eyes dilated.
Harry blinked and shook his head. "You horny bastard," he muttered.
"You love it," he reverted, his tongue flicking out across his lips before he took another drink.
"Yeah," Harry mumbled, "I love you." He said again, hoping to prompt some sort of reaction but Draco appeared once again unfazed. "Don't you have anything to say about that? I thought maybe, I don't know, is it okay that I'm in love with you?"
A deep laugh escaped Draco who was fingering the stem of his wine glass with his slender fingers. "I knew you were, Harry, you did not have to voice it," he said evenly.
"You knew? How could you know when I wasn't even sure of it till that moment?" Harry probed, clinking the ice together in his own glass.
Draco shrugged, his foot was slowly working its way up Harry's leg. "Like you said at Mar's; it's you and me, we don't do anything half-arsed. I could never simply fancy you, Harry, I could only loathe or love you. I prefer the latter – I get laid that way."
Harry chortled and despite himself and his comfort with his lover, his cheeks turned red. "You could get laid either way."
"Yes, that is true, but any fuck is not nearly as good as you, Harry. Hm, I knew from the moment I had you on your kitchen table I never wanted to fuck anybody else again," he purred.
A foot suddenly in a rather private area, Harry shifted in his seat, coughing, and concentrated on finishing off his drink which burned all the way down his throat. "So, are you saying that y-you – ah, Draco, stop – that you love me?"
"Do you really need me to say it? As much of a romantic as I am, words are often too simple," Draco was smirking devilishly now. "I can show you, if you would like." His foot moved experimentally in its place, the tips of his toes gently rolling across Harry's balls.
Harry sucked in a shaking breath, his grip tightening on his glass. "You just came, Dra-co," he commented, his words hitching as Draco moved his toes in exactly the right way again.
"I know, but you didn't, and it's been a week, Harry. I hate having to spend so long apart every time you have James," he added, one of the multitude of reasons he wished to make their relationship public knowledge. "Additionally, with your help, I could come again," Draco proposed.
The rest of their evening consisted of Harry attempting to stay on relatively innocent topics with Draco's foot continuously teasing him, sometimes joining in on the actual conversation, and mostly uttering innuendos. This was a common occurrence for their first evening together after spending a week away, which was every other week for them. And eventually, like every week, Harry would succumb to Draco and his bedroom.
Once Draco had polished off both glasses of wine, his restraint and usual cool poise was quickly abandoned. Harry had one last nearly melted ice cube in his glass which Draco reached across the table to claim. The cold water ran down his fingertips and forearm, he looked between it and Harry, his eyebrows raised so high they nearly disappeared beneath his fine hair. Harry looked at him curiously, wondering what exactly he was intending to do.
"Come on, Potter, I have an idea," Draco said, standing and out-stretching his hand, dropping the ice cube to the table.
Harry pretended not to be aroused at whatever in Godric's name Draco could be thinking about and quickly followed. Draco did not go far, however, and stopped at the fridge. From its ice maker he retrieved a handful of cubes. "Uh, Draco, what are you-"
"Sh, I promise you will like it. I think," he added, clearly unsure of his own idea.
They ended up in Draco's room, a trail of small droplets of water behind them, and Draco was quick to drop the ice with a soft clatter to the top of his armour – his hand reddened and cold. He turned on Harry and with one shove had him fumbling backwards onto the bed.
Surprised, Harry braced himself on his elbows, attempting to get up, only to be shoved back down again by Draco's body suddenly on top of him. Harry let his partner maneuver around his body, underneath his clothes, he allowed himself to be lost in each movement and touch Draco made. At thirty-one no matter what activity they were doing, whenever Harry was with Draco he felt ten years younger. He never felt like this with Ginny, she never gave him the same challenge Draco did, nor the level of intensity or passion.
Just as Draco was about to lower himself to Harry's erection, he requested Harry summon the ice cubes. Harry, both eyebrows in his hairline, did as he was told and deposited the ice cubes into Draco's waiting hand. "I have heard this is fantastic. Tell me how it feels," Draco said smirking, popping a slightly melted ice cube into his mouth.
"We're a little old to experiment, aren't we? And where did you hear about this from anyway, Nigel and, oh!" Harry exclaimed as he felt a sudden rush of cold on his member, despite being surrounded by heat. His head connecting with the pillow, Harry let out a shaking breath and fluttered his eyes shut.
XXXX
Sun was barely creeping in through the master bedroom window when Harry was prodded awake. Rubbing at his weary eyes, craning his head upwards, he was greeted with Draco smiling down at him. "Morning, Potter," he drawled, sounding all too awake for…
"Bloody hell, it's only six!" Harry groaned, burying his head beneath the pillow.
Rolling his eyes, Draco removed the pillow from Harry's head and tossed it off to the side of his bed. "Yes, and I have a meeting at eight and you have to be at work for nine."
"Urgh, that's three whole hours! I don't need three hours to get ready for work," Harry grumbled, using the bedclothes to cover his head instead now.
Draco was quick to swipe the sheets away from him, grinning at Harry's sudden yelp at feeling the early morning cold creep up onto his bare skin. "Yes, usually, but this morning we have a visitor. Scorpius is coming home from his mother's early this week."
"Scorpius?" Harry startled, sitting up quickly enough to nearly wind himself. "I'll get going then."
Placing a hand on Harry's shoulder, Draco stopped him, his brows curiously knitted together. "Going? I thought it might be a perfect opportunity to discuss with him our relationship. You did say last night that you would become open about it, did you not?"
"Er, yeah, I guess I did," Harry mumbled, a sinking feeling of anxiety and regret burrowing in his belly. "Is now a very appropriate time?"
"Quit being such a coward, Potter. He will arrive within the hour. Coffee?" he offered, starting back towards the door.
Harry swallowed and nodded mutely. 'Fuck,' he inwardly swore. 'I'm about to tell Malfoy's son that I'm seeing his father. That means I have to tell James I'm seeing Draco Malfoy. Can I do that to James? Is he ready for that?' The panic rose in Harry, faster and higher than he could control it.
Without thought, without so much as succumbing to reason, Harry rushed to throw clothes on himself and without a moment's pause he apparated. He was standing in a kitchen that was not his own; a surprised scream startled from his sudden appearance.
Hermione steadied herself on the edge of the table where she was making place settings for breakfast, though from the sounds of the household nobody else had yet to stir from their slumbers. "Harry! What's wrong? Is everything alright?" she questioned hurriedly, ushering him to sit at the table, clearly distraught by not only his odd appearance at that time in the morning but also the contorted, fearfully anxious look on his face.
"I'm sorry, I know it's early and you both have to get the kids to Arthur and Molly's and it's early-"
"Shush, Harry, you're always welcome here. Would you like a cuppa?" Hermione offered at which Harry groaned.
"Draco was just going down into the kitchen to make coffee for us and he's going to go back upstairs and I won't even be there," he buried his face in his hands. Hermione frowned but did not ask questions as she went off to make them both cuppas as Harry took his time to explain what had happened starting from their fight the day before. When he was finished, along with half their coffees, they were being joined by a bleary-eyed Ron with a far-too-chipper Hugo attached at his hip.
"Harry? What'cha doing here?" Without looking up from his cup, Harry could tell Hermione sent him a look because he quickly brushed it off. "Not that it's a bother. Say hullo to Uncle Harry, Hugo," Ron set the young child down who shied away from Harry but sent him a small smile.
"What have you got there, Hugo?" Harry asked, gesturing at the stuffed animal in his arms.
Hugo shook his head quickly before clambering onto a seat at the table, looking expectantly at his mother. Hugo was much unlike his older sister; he was quiet, subdued, and for the most part kept to himself. Rose, on the other hand, was loud, boisterous, and adventurous. It was always nerve-wrecking when Rose and James would get together; the mischief those two conducted was certainly alarming at times for children of their age. Needless to say, Uncle George was always rather proud of those two.
Hermione went about depositing breakfast for everybody, including Harry who uttered his thankfulness, as they filled Ron in on Harry's dilemma. Afterwards, Ron sighed, shaking his head. "You know where I stand, mate," he reiterated, referring to their conversation just yesterday. "James deserves to know, he's more resilient than you think."
"I agree with Ron, however, if you don't feel comfortable doing something then you shouldn't do it," Hermione said pointedly. "Malfoy shouldn't be forcing and coercing you into coming out. When you're ready, you'll be ready, and that's not for him to decide."
Harry smiled earnestly at her, polishing off his cuppa. "I can't help but feel bad, I mean, I should've at least said something."
"Too right you should have. If he's anything like you say he is, he'll have your head for that, mate."
For a second time, Harry groaned and covered his face. "I'm a thirty one year old man and this is the second time I've run from Draco. Gods, I'm pathetic!"
Hermione hushed him, finally taking her seat at the table. "Nonsense, Harry, you're just concerned with how James will react. That is all it is, right?" she questioned as an afterthought.
"Of course that's it! I don't care if anybody else knows, it's just about James…and Gin. You know how much she hates Malfoy," Harry sighed.
"Good thing she's your ex-wife, mate," Ron reminded him.
"Ta, Ron," Harry said sarcastically. "If she doesn't approve, there'd be no point in telling James because she has just as much of a say as I do who he spends his time around. And what would happen if Ginny and James didn't care? If they were okay with everything and actually ended up liking Draco?"
The married couple exchanged a look between each other before Hermione distracted herself with helping Hugo cut up his sausages and toast. "Isn't that what you want?" Ron questioned.
"Of course it is, but it would only mean that it could devastate James if anything were to happen to us."
"Oh, Harry, you're such a great father," Hermione whispered, not looking up from Hugo's plate. "But, what will happen to James is his father never takes that chance? If he never gets to really experience his dad being happy; his dad having a family of his own?"
Harry looked across at her skeptically. "I am happy!" he protested.
"Yeah, as happy as Moody was with a flask of Firewhiskey," Ron muttered.
"Besides, I'm only dating him, he already has a son of his own…Draco and I could never be a family, it just wouldn't work," Harry shook the idea away.
"And why not?" Hermione returned. "Have you talked to him about any of this?"
Ron nodded, gesturing at his wife. "You have to, mate. As nuts as it sounds, I think that ferret bastard might actually want that with you."
"Ronald!" Hermione hissed at the language, but thankfully Hugo, as per usual, was quiet and distanced from the conversation around him.
"I'm just saying," Ron continued, "Wanting to introduce you to his son is a pretty big commitment. I may never have liked him but from what I've seen his life is all about Scorpius."
Hermione was quickly humming, agreeing with her husband. "If Malfoy cares about anything it would be his son. And you, of course," she added.
"I just never thought Draco would want that with me. I mean, I hadn't seen him in years and then suddenly I'm losing the plot!" Harry moaned, running a hand through his mussed hair.
Ron leaned over on his seat far enough to clap Harry on the shoulder. "It happens to the best of us." Hermione raised an expectant eyebrow at Ron who flushed and quickly amended himself. "And it's the best damn thing that can ever happen to you."
XXXX
The day slipped by rather uneventfully which was more than a surprise to Harry. Usually when he and Draco had a falling out of any kind it would be only a few hours at most before he found himself in possession of another nipping envelope – much to Ron's chagrin. Instead, it was a relatively quiet day at the Department for Magical Law Enforcement besides an incident involving rogue pixies. By the time dinner came and went, Harry was in a mess. Between thinking about what Ron and Hermione had said earlier that morning and contemplating just how peeved Draco truly was, he hadn't realised how late it was until his secretary, Sharla, informed him that she herself was going home.
Harry leaned back in his office chair, his hands fingering his frayed quill. On the back of his desk his eyes landed on the pictures of his son, his parents, Teddy alongside Andromeda Tonks, as well as Hermione, Ron and their children. Something was not quite right with his small collection of moving memorabilia, looking out from their frames and waving at him. Something was missing.
When exactly what was missing hit Harry, his stomach dropped. "Merlin, what have I been doing?" he groaned, dropping his quill and quickly throwing his abandoned cloak on and hurrying out of his office, not even bothering to lock it as he usually would. 'I fucked up badly this time,' he thought to himself, in a rush to take the lift down to the employee's gate.
'Wine. Carmenere is best. And flowers…no, Draco will sic his house elf on me for that,' Harry conceded. Yes, he admittedly overreacted to the prospect of meeting Scorpius in the context of being Draco's partner, and the way he left was certainly not going to help his situation.
The crepuscular sky hung overhead as Harry finally gathered his many apologies, as expensive as they could come, within his arms and tried to apparate over to Draco's. Harry looked around, confused. He recognized the area though not intimately enough to pinpoint his location. Wherever he was, he was certain it wasn't Draco's home. Taking consideration of his surroundings, it was obvious he was still in the same area of London, in the back of an alley. Harry grumbled and walked out onto the street; he was two blocks away from his home.
'He must have changed the wards around his house. Bollocks, he must be more upset than I thought.'
But it wasn't just the wards around Draco's house that had changed. It appeared Draco had a busy day all to himself and Harry soon found himself swearing between house number 324 and 328, unable to find or see 326 whatsoever. It was as if it were never there. Fuming, Harry clenched his fists at his sides and apparated again with a crack.
Underneath the shroud of the Fidelius Charm, two grey eyes watched the disappearing man with mild distress.
"Father, Uncle Blaise is in the fire in the study," a soft voice came from the doorway to the living room.
Draco turned to Scorpius and forced a sad smile, hoping it would convince his son. "Thanks, Scorpius. And remember," he walked by him, ruffling his strikingly platinum hair into a slight mess, "It's dad."
Scorpius frowned after his father and knew better than to follow him into the study as he took the stairs two at a time till he reached his own bedroom, closing the door behind himself.
Blaise had already invited himself through the Floo by the time Draco entered his study. His best friend was sitting at his drawing desk, one leg crossed over the other as he tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair. "You alright?"
Draco barely regarded Blaise as he made his way to the mantle-place, running his hand distractedly along it before he finally faced him. "He was here."
"How?" Blaise queried, straightening up in his seat slightly with interest.
"Not quite here, but he was outside. Clearly Parkinson did well with that Fidelius Charm."
"Zabini," Blaise corrected to which Draco raised an uncaring brow. "Potter's always been a knobjockey, but are you sure you want to do this? You told me things were going fairly well."
Draco sat in the armchair by the fire, rubbing one of his temples. "They were, if you consider only having six people privy to your relationship."
"I never took you for a romantic, Malfoy," he teased. "Honestly, what did you want out of everything? You're thirty, a Malfoy, divorced, and have a son," Blaise finished seriously.
"You know exactly what I wanted out of everything," Draco returned levelly.
Blaise frowned. "You really thought you would get that from Potter?"
"Ever since I was ten I knew what was expected of me. I would have to marry into a good pureblood family; I needed to provide an heir for our lineage. When I learned I…" Draco trailed off, attempting to locate how to delicately explain it.
"Preferred the opposite gender?" Blaise supplied.
"…exactly. I knew I would have to have a relationship with full disclosure. As much as Astoria displeases me, she understood my situation. So I waited. I waited till I had my son, till Astoria and I properly separated, till I finally let myself actually…Oh sod off, Zabini," Draco snapped at his friend who was coughing in an attempt to cover his fit of laughter at his romanticised speech. "I have only been truly looking for somebody for the past seven years only to find I didn't want anybody to be with. There was nobody…stimulating enough I could stand the thought of seeing them every day."
"What about that uh, Eric fellow?" his friend questioned, struggling with his name.
Draco had to chuckle at that. "Eric? You mean, the only man I saw twice in one week? Until Harry came along I was pretty damn sure I would never be satisfied. But then, when I saw him in Antonio's that night, I felt challenged just by his presence. Gods, I wanted to break him down as fast as I could. Even if we're having a night in, it's never boring, we always find something to argue about."
Waggling his finger quickly in the air, Blaise interrupted him. "That's not the sign of a healthy relationship whatsoever, Malfoy, you can't be with somebody simply because they keep you entertained. With fighting, nonetheless."
"It wasn't like that. It was…it was Harry and me. We were always comfortable enough with one another to be honest."
Slowly rising from his chair, Blaise made his way over to his friend and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. It was very rare for Draco to allow himself to be so emotionally open, so vulnerable to judgement. "You really loved Potter, 'eh?"
Draco sighed. "I still fucking do."
"Then why are you doing this to him?" Blaise questioned confusedly, he couldn't quite keep up with everything.
"He humiliated me. He lied. He obviously will never be ready to commit to me enough to even introduce himself to my son! And as much as I care about Harry, I love Scorpius more."