Title: Battle Lines
Gift for: alafaye for the 2014 HD_Owlpost Holiday Exchange Fest on Livejournal
Summary: Will Harry and Draco survive their first Christmas with their kids, or will a new generation of Hogwarts rivalries tear them apart?
Word Count: 2800
Rating: PG-13
Contains: Some angst and family drama.
"Hurry up, you're going to make us late!" Draco's voice echoed upstairs. Harry muttered quietly under his breath, pulling his jumper on over his head. The Express wasn't due for another hour at least, but for Draco, stress bred stress, and anything less than an hour early was late.
"I'm coming, hold your Hippogriffs." He took the stairs down to the entry two at a time, pausing at the bottom to take a breath and smile at Draco. His face was pinched and peevish, but Harry had learned his expressions well enough over the past two years to see the worry there. "We had them for a week over the summer, we'll be fine having them the first week of Christmas hols. Relax."
"We had them, but not all at once. James and Scorpius have never gotten along, you know that, and it's bad enough with your hellions and those blasted Wheezes all over the house..."
"Shhh..." Harry wrapped Draco in a hug, feeling the trembling strain barely held in check. "We're confiscating all Wheezes at the front door and giving them back when they leave next weekend to go to Ginny's and Astoria's places. James and Scorpius will be fine for one week; Albus and Lily will help or we'll cancel presents. We've got this."
Draco sighed, dropping his chin briefly against Harry's shoulder. "I hope you're right."
"I'm right. Trust me. Trust them."
Draco pulled away and shot Harry a glare. "I trust them to behave abominably. I'm not going to live in a bubble of denial that they're going to forget years of antagonism and suddenly get along."
"We did."
Draco grimaced. "We're shagging. They aren't."
Harry laughed. "We managed civility before we started shagging, thank you very much. I am confident our children can learn from our example."
Draco said nothing in response, merely straightened his coat and reached for Harry's scarf, wrapping it gently around him. After a few moments fussing, he stepped back. "Shall we go?"
Harry reached out, gave Draco's hand a brief squeeze before laying it on his arm in preparation for the Apparition to Platform 9 3/4. He tried to convey his certainty, but Draco studiously avoided looking at him. Finally, with a sigh, he spun them away.
~.~
They were one of the first families to arrive on the Platform, and spent most of the following hour ignoring the odd looks they still received, even after more than a year of public exclusivity. They stood near a pillar, Harry leaning against it in an attempt to remain comfortable for the wait while Draco stood straight and stiff, gaze fixed to the rails awaiting the Express.
The only change occurred when the Weasleys trickled in shortly before the train was due. Hermione approached with a determined expression, causing Draco to stiffen ever so slightly more. "Harry! Word is the Express was delayed leaving Hogsmeade, so they're running about thirty minutes behind. How are you?" She gave Harry a quick hug before turning and holding a hand out to Draco. "Draco. Good morning."
Draco shook her hand, and she turned back to Harry in a breath. "Ron and I are picking up the brood and taking them all to the Burrow for dinner. Your three—four, I'm sorry Draco, are welcome as well. Molly's doing a roast."
He shook his head before Draco's face even had a chance to register disapproval. "No, things are iffy enough between James and Scorpius. We want to get them all settled as quickly as possible and head off any rows at the pass."
Hermione nodded. "I was just reading a book on blending families after divorce. It had a lot of good advice; I'll Owl it over to you this afternoon."
Harry's lips twitched. "That'd be great. Thanks. And pass along our thanks to Molly?"
Hermione nodded. "Still see you both for Boxing Day?"
"Yeah, we should be over mid-afternoon."
"Wonderful. I trust Draco will be picking the wine."
Something in Harry's chest released when he saw Draco give Hermione a small smile at that; it was the most relaxed his expression had been all day. "Of course. You don't want to trust Potter with these things."
"Hey!" Harry grinned, protesting more because he knew he was supposed to.
"Boxed wine, Potter. You drank boxed wine before I took over. Wine does not come in boxes."
"It so does." Harry grumbled, though his smile still threatened to break free. In truth, he didn't much care. Left to his own devices, he drank wine only rarely and the boxed stuff was convenient. The wine Draco insisted on tasted better, and seemed important to him, so Harry let it go. Much in the same way Draco rolled his eyes and grumbled, but left the mess in Harry's study alone.
"Have to agree with Draco, Harry. The boxed wine you brought last year was foul."
"Alright, alright," Harry laughed. "Draco brings the wine. As long as you promise not to burn the biscuits this year."
Hermione's cheeks pinked at that, and she gave Harry a shove. "Angelina's bringing dessert this year."
"Thank Merlin."
"Oh fine. I can see when I'm not wanted. Give us a Firecall if you need a break this week, we'll take them for dinner or something."
"Thanks, Hermione."
Hermione nodded at them both and wandered back to where Ron was still standing. Things were better than they had been the previous year, but both Ron and Draco had come to the silent agreement to avoid each other whenever stress was high. They exchanged nods across the platform and Harry turned back to Draco, who was once again wound tight.
"Wonder what made it late?"
"Wheezes, what else?" Draco's retort was sharp, and he didn't even look at Harry. Harry sighed, knowing nothing was going to improve Draco's mood until they returned home. He resigned himself to silence.
~.~
By the time the Express finally arrived in clouds of steam, and all four kids, their trunks and owls were gathered and Apparated back to Grimmauld Place, Harry was ready to collapse. Draco took one look at his face and turned on the four trunks. With a wave of his wand, they all opened and piles of Wheezes spun out to levitate above them. "You'll get these back as you're leaving. Until then, they'll be kept locked away to avoid the open warfare we'd otherwise be facing this week. I suggest you all get along or your Christmas presents will be saved for next year."
"But Dad—"
"You can't—"
"But why—?"
"Enough!" Harry's voice cut over the din, and he eyed his three specifically, lingering briefly on James. "Draco and I discussed this before you arrived. We believe you can control yourselves better than you do at Hogwarts, and we're not going to have the holiday turned into another battleground.
"You'll get the Wheezes back when you're less likely to try and kill each other with them. Meaning they'll be Ginny and Astoria's responsibility. Until then, we expect you to be, if not on your best behavior, then at least polite. We're a family; we're all a family, now. It's time to start acting like it."
"But Dad? Why are you punishing me and Lily?"
Harry could see Al's Slytherin mind looking for loopholes, and he grinned in spite of himself. "Think of it as incentive. You want your presents, you help keep things calm."
"This is so stupid!" James cut in. "You don't know what it's like, and suddenly you expect me to play nice with that git just because you're too busy shagging Mr. Malfoy to—"
"That's enough!" Harry broke in. Albus held Scorpius' arm tightly, though it didn't seem like Scorpius noticed, his attention centered on James and face flushed with anger. "I expect you to show a little respect for everyone in this house and remember the Thumper Rule."
"Whatever." James muttered and shouldered Harry roughly as he pushed past him through the door.
Draco sighed. "That holds for everyone."
There was some muttering as the remaining three made their way through the door after James. When they were gone, Draco looked at Harry. "What's the Thumper Rule?"
"If you can't say something nice, don't say anything. It's from a movie. Bambi. All three of them loved it growing up."
"Be nice or shut up? Do you think that's a good idea?"
Harry shrugged, rubbing a hand over his face. "I don't know. We'll find out?"
Draco watched him, his expression once again tight. "Your confidence seems to have taken a hit."
"They'll be fine. They just need to be in the position outside of House rivalries where they're expected to behave and not the other way around."
Draco hummed noncommittally. "Alright. I'll tell Kreacher to serve lunch."
"Draco?" Harry approached when Draco paused and glanced back over his shoulder. Wrapping his arms around Draco and resting his head against his shoulder, he sighed, losing himself for a moment in the smell of sandalwood. "It'll be okay."
Draco said nothing, and didn't loosen into the embrace, which told Harry clearly how much Draco believed him.
~.~
Battle lines were drawn the moment the children left the room, following the expected house rivalries. Albus and Scorpius were as inseparable as they'd been since their second day at Hogwarts, both sorted into Slytherin, with James and Lily on the Gryffindor side opposing them.
It was exhausting, and Draco was little help. He was effective at tamping down any skirmishes, but the strain was obvious in the way he'd completely withdrawn from Harry, even in private moments.
Harry felt more alone than he had since the first months after his divorce, when he was rattling around Grimmauld Place all alone except for awkward weekly dinners with Ron and Hermione.
The worst part was that the stuff that James and Scorpius, and to a lesser extent Al and Lily, fought about was so... petty. Use of the front second floor bathroom. A specific quill on Harry's desk in the study. The results of the previous month's Cannons vs. Arrows match. Harry half expected them to finally come to blows over the fact that they were all breathing the same air.
Luckily, it was just words. But the constant tension made him want to scream or hit something himself.
~.~
Harry had just climbed into bed, staring at the stiff line of Draco's side where he lay, facing away from Harry, when there was a loud explosion from downstairs. He registered Draco springing from the bed as he wrestled into a robe and dashed to the door.
At the bottom of the stairs, the source of the noise was obvious. The door to Draco's study was open, and smoke was billowing out, the sound of Wildfire Whiz-Bangs carrying over Lily's screech.
He stood a moment in the doorway taking in the scene. All four children were there, wands drawn, and Draco's desk was a charred mess. Harry opened his mouth, though he had no idea what he was actually going to say, but Draco's voice came over the noise.
"Evanesco!" With a wave of his wand, the Whiz-Bangs and smoke disappeared. "And shut up, the lot of you." Draco's face was white, his jaw clenched so tightly that it was a wonder he could get any words out. Harry felt a ball of dread form in his gut at the cold fury written across Draco's face.
"What part of civility is so difficult for you lot to understand?" He raked a glare over the four of them, leaving them cringing and lowering their wands. "I've had enough. Scorpius, pack your trunk. We're going to the Manor."
Harry's panic grew overwhelming, and he reached out, grasping Draco's sleeve. "Draco, no."
Draco shook his head, not looking at Harry. "This isn't working. We were fools to think it would."
"Draco—"
"No, Harry. I'll... I'll owl you next week, and... And we'll see." Draco pulled away, leaving Harry grasping at nothing. "Scorpius, move!"
"Dad—"
"Scorpius, if I have to tell you again, you will be on restriction until you're seventeen. Move!"
Draco turned on his heel, starting up the stairs, Scorpius trudging behind him. Harry stood, waiting for his brain to catch up, to process, ignoring the churning in his gut.
"Dad?" Lily's voice was tentative. "Dad, are you okay?"
"No. No I'm not." Harry's attention sharpened, the sick feeling growing in him as he focused on his children, who looked nervous and confused. "You three... I can't believe you. I can't even look at you right now."
"Dad—"
"No, you shut up now. You have done quite enough. I expected minimal civility from you. I told Draco that if you all were expected to behave, you would. And you proved me wrong at every turn. And for what?"
"Dad—"
"No. No. I'm going to go upstairs and try and talk to Draco. Then I'm going to Firecall your grandmother and explain exactly why I don't want to be around you three right now and ask if you can go to the Burrow early."
"But—"
"I love Draco. And that obviously means nothing to you lot in comparison to your precious school rivalry, but he means the world to me. I love you three, but right now I'm more ashamed of you than I can..." He took a breath, rubbing a shaking hand over his face. "I want you three to go to your rooms. I'll let you know when Molly is ready for you."
He listened to three sets of feet climbing the stairs before he collapsed against the wall, burying his face in his hands. He'd thought of worst-case scenarios when they'd planned on having all four, but this was well beyond anything he could have imagined. Harry turned to look at Draco's still-smoldering desk, previously home to the confiscated Wheezes, and wondered how the hell they'd even managed to crack the wards.
He wasn't certain how long he'd sat there, but hurried footsteps upstairs drew his attention, and he pushed himself up. He felt... old. Tired. Sick and scared in a way he'd not since asking Ginny for a divorce. He hoped he wasn't facing the same impending aloneness.
~.~
"Draco?" He knocked quietly on the doorjamb, staring into the room where Draco was sitting on the bed. His back was to Harry, his trunk open and clothes spread around him. "Please don't go."
Draco seemed to collapse in on himself when Harry came around the bed to face him. "This isn't working, Harry. I can't... We can't choose each other over our children."
"They need to get the fuck over themselves. I'm sending my three to Molly tonight." Harry shook his head, grasping Draco's shoulders, staring at the top of his white-blond head. "We cannot give up on this. You mean too much to me."
"Maybe... Maybe in a few years, when they're out of Hogwarts."
"No!"
"Dad?" Draco flinched at James' voice, and Harry looked up to glare. Then he dropped his hands from Draco's shoulders in shock, as all four were standing in the doorway, frightened and contrite expressions on their faces.
"I told you to go to your rooms and that I didn't want to see you until it was time to send you to the Burrow."
"We're sorry." Al shifted uncomfortably in place.
"Please don't leave, Dad." Scorpius looked nearly in tears, and Lily touched his arm gently.
Draco turned to look at the four of them, and James dropped his gaze immediately. "It was my fault. I was just trying to get the Wheezes out of the desk. Teddy gave me some unwarding spells he got from Uncle Bill. I didn't mean to blow up Mr. Malfoy's desk."
"It's not the desk." Draco's voice was quiet, but firm. "I'm unhappy you destroyed my desk, but you all could have been hurt. And most of all, you're unwilling to even try to get along. And... I'm tired of trying if no one else is."
Harry stepped back, Draco's words hitting with the force of a punch. Draco's expression turned panicked, and he shook his head, reaching for Harry's hand. "I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't mean—"
"You two were the only ones trying. Even after you asked Al and me to help you, we didn't." Lily broke in. "We're sorry."
"Please don't give up on Dad, Mr. Malfoy." James dragged his eyes up from the floor. "I'm sorry. I'll do better."
"We'll all do better." Scorpius continued. "Please. Let's stay, Dad."
Draco turned a pleading gaze to Harry, who grabbed his chance. "Stay. I want you to stay."
Draco glanced around the room, at the piles of clothes, and Harry could see him waver. "I..."
"Draco, I love you. It's Christmas."
Draco nodded. "I'll stay."
