Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, or this world. I am playing with them a bit, and having a lovely time.
Pre-Story Note: This story involves Harry and Draco as children and in a familial relationship. So don't get creepy.
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CHILDREN'S STORIES
Chapter 1: Little Harry
Draco Malfoy wanted children. Not for an heir or a mark of status, or for a miniature version of himself. He just wanted kids of his own, to share with the love of his life.
The first time he suggested it to his husband, Harry was sitting on their couch holding Ron and Hermione's first born, Gaia. Harry was looking down on the baby with a serene and mysterious smile and Draco blurted out, "Do you want to have a baby?"
Draco watched Harry's eyes shutter as the Gryffindor handed Gaia back to her mother and walked out of the room. Draco accepted that it was a bad moment, and perhaps not the best way to present something like that to the man he loved.
The next time was Christmas morning one year later. Gaia had been joined by her little sister, Terpsichore (who would be called Turtle until she turned fourteen and ordered her family to quit using such a ridiculous nickname. (Ron adamantly denied any responsibility in the naming of his daughters.))
This time Harry led Draco into the kitchen and told him flatly that he didn't believe they prepared for children and he didn't want to discuss it.
So, in his efforts to prove Harry wrong, Draco bought him a fern and a puppy.
According to Hermione, if you could keep a plant or a pet alive, you could take care of a child.
The fern flourished, sending out enthusiastic seed pods until the living room where it had been nestled and the garden just outside of the windowsill where it was set were blanketed in green.
And from the first time Harry saw the puppy, which he insisted on naming 'Black,' he was in love. The dog was pampered and well-disciplined, often taking his rightful spot in the middle of Harry and Draco's bed, whether the blond wanted him there or not.
Draco also encouraged Harry to spend more time around actual children. Ron and Hermione's girls came over often and Honorary Uncles Harry and Draco were Bill and Fleur's favorite babysitters. As Draco watched Harry romp with the children and Black, he felt his heart warm. Harry was ready for children, they both were.
"No."
Harry's answer was the same. Draco tried to talk to him logically about it, ask him why exactly he felt that they couldn't handle a child, but the Gryffindor wouldn't explain.
Draco brought up the babysitting, nieces and nephews and godchildren, and Harry still said no. Cool discussions turned into heated arguments, and those became a frozen silence.
Finally Draco was sick of it, "Harry, just tell me why you don't want children. I know you love them, and I know you're good with th—"
"No. I don't think I—We're not ready for children. I mean, look at our families, where we come from. I think we—"
With each word Harry babbled out, looking anywhere but at the pleading eyes of the blond in front of him Draco felt a fierce suspicion bubble up in his chest. "Is it me," Draco asked quietly, closing his eyes. His parents had spoiled him and ignored him in turn, and he knew he was an awful child. He had tried to make up for it, but some things were bred in the bone.
There was a long silence and then, "Yes."
Draco heard Harry walk out of the room, and a few minutes later he heard the creak of their front door before it closed. Then he let himself cry. He knew he was a better person than he had been, growing up meant exactly that to the Slytherin. But the idea that the man he loved, married, and pledged to spend the rest of his life with didn't believe in him broke his heart.
A few hours later Draco woke up on the couch where he had fallen asleep. A blanket was draped over his chest but he didn't remember getting it. Sitting up he saw Harry's cloak hung on its hook in the entryway. Harry had come home.
Standing creakily, Draco folded the blanket over his arm and walked to his bedroom. Harry was asleep in the middle of their bed, Black pressed heavily to his side. The Gryffindor shifted slightly as Draco moved closer, and a shaft of moonlight streaming in through the window highlighted silvery tear tracks across his tan skin.
Draco climbed into the bed on Harry's open side and wrapped his arm around the sleeping man, pressing a kiss to his forehead.
"I'll prove myself, Harry. Just watch."
The next morning Draco acquired a special potion from Madame Pomphrey, explaining the circumstances. She was dubious, but she understood that Draco needed to prove himself and this might be the only way.
Draco and Harry went through the day as though the fight had never happened. Things were a bit strained, the way they had been for weeks, but peaceful, and when they sat down to dinner together they talked and laughed the way they hadn't done in too long.
Afterwards Draco offered to make a pot of tea. In the kitchen he poured a small vial of tasteless potion in the porcelain mug Harry favored, whispering, "Sorry love, but this is necessary. I have to show you I can be a good father."
The potion was a simple one designed for couples who weren't sure they wanted a child. It allowed them to experience over the course of a week what it would be like to raise a child from infancy to age 10. The original childhood memories of the infantilized partner would be muted during their second childhoods, but when they returned to their original age at the end of the week they would remember everything that had happened and the couple would be able to make an informed decision.
Draco had played with the formula a little. As much as he loved Harry and wanted children, he had no desire to change his husband's diapers, so in the course of the night Harry would de-age to 3, and age two years each night for the next few days, until he was 8.
After their tea the two men cuddled for a while on the couch then Harry yawned widely and decided to go to bed, urging Draco to follow. Draco declined, saying he had paperwork to go through, but he did watch his husband walk upstairs savoring the last view of adult Harry he would have for a week.
Harry at 3
The potion worked over night, giving the users time to assimilate the new memories they created in their second childhood. At approximately 2 in the morning, Harry had begun to thrash around a bit, whimpering. Draco held him, then pulled away as the contact seemed to make the Gryffindor more uncomfortable. Unable to watch his husband suffer, and with no means to help him, Draco went out onto the balcony to stare out at the stars and watch as the sky lightened into false dawn, then the blazing colors of sunrise.
Draco heard a small snuffling noise from inside the bedroom and turned to see a little boy sitting on the bed.
"Harry?"
The boy turned towards him and Draco's breath caught in his throat. He was beautiful.
Curling black hair stuck up in tufts around his head, framing an adorable baby face and a pair of beautiful green eyes.
Draco moved closer and the boy seemed to tense, wrapping his hands in the long sleeves of Harry's night shirt.
"It's all right, Harry. I'm here."
The little boy clenched his eyes shut, "Don't know you."
"I know, but I'm going to take care of you. You can call me Uncle Draco."
"Unco," the boy said questioningly, opening his eyes warily.
"Yes, Harry. Now, are you hungry?"
The little boy nodded soberly, and Draco offered him a hand which was tentatively accepted.
While Harry was asleep Draco had charmed his clothes to fit this smaller form, and now the little boy was dressed in a smaller version of Harry's Quidditch pajamas.
Together the two made their way downstairs step by step, and then into the kitchen. Draco lifted Harry onto the highchair and secured the sticking charms that would keep him and the chair securely in place.
"Now," Draco said, "What would you like to eat?"
Harry didn't say anything, just stared around at the kitchen.
Draco watched as Harry's vision was caught on the fruit bowl, piled high with bright red apples and green grapes.
"Would you like some fruit," Draco asked. Harry didn't say anything, looking from the bowl to Draco mutely. Draco took that as a yes and pulled out an apple and a small bunch of grapes.
With quick familiar movements Draco peeled and sliced the apple into thin wedges, then cut the grapes in half. He didn't think Harry would choke on a whole grape, but he had done enough babysitting to know that anything was possible with children.
Artfully arranging the crisp slices of apple with the glistening grapes, Draco set the plate in front on Harry with a bit of flourish that made the green-eyed little boy smile slightly. Chubby fingers reached towards the fruit before they were pulled back and tucked into Harry's lap. Draco watched this happen a few more times, puzzled.
"Harry, why don't you eat?"
The boy looked confused, in as much as a three year old can. He reached for the fruit again and touched one of the grapes, quickly tucking a juice-dampened finger into his mouth. Around the digit, Harry mumbled, "You no hungry, Unco?"
Draco opened his mouth to answer when his stomach growled fiercely. Smiling awkwardly, Draco wrapped an arm around his abdomen and looked at Harry to make a joke when he saw that the little boy had gone chalk-white and was pushing the plate away.
"You eat, Unco. I no hungry."
Draco bit back a curse. The potion was supposed to dampen the adult-turned-child's memories of their real childhood, but the more powerful things would linger and Draco hadn't been prepared.
Draco absently rubbed his stomach as it grumbled again. Turning towards Harry he saw the little boy staring determinedly at the plate.
"Harry bear," Draco said gently, using the nickname he had devised to keep little Harry separate from Big Harry in his mind, "Look at me."
The boy looked up and Draco smiled, "I think it would be nice if we share, okay?"
Harry had a blank look in his eyes, but another rumbling gurgle from Draco's stomach was answered by a quieter one from the little boy, so he nodded.
"Wonderful. I'll take some apple, and then you do, okay?" Draco kept his voice even, he'd never believed into talking down to children, but he didn't want to scare Harry either. He picked up two pieces of apple and handed one of them to Harry. When the little boy had it in hand, Draco brought his up to his mouth, gesturing for Harry to do the same. Slowly Harry followed, and at Draco's cue, they bit into their food at the same time.
Harry nibbled at the slice of apple, and to make him laugh Draco bit at his fiercely, making loud smacking noises and spraying tiny bits of apple around him and on his clothes. A little bit of dignity was a small sacrifice if it could make little Harry laugh the way big Harry did. Draco's antics didn't make the boy laugh, but he did smile wider and start eating properly.
They worked their way around the plate like that. Harry would wait for Draco to take a piece of apple or a grape before doing the same and between them they finished the fruit in just under an hour.
When the plate was clean of everything but juice and a few stray crumbs of apple, Draco took it away, then brought a damp wash cloth to Harry so he could wash his hands. The small boy took it and started swiping it across the area of the table where the plate had rested, absorbing the juice and flicking the fruit crumbs to the floor.
At first Draco was going to tease him about it, but seeing how serious his face was forced the Slytherin to take a second look. When he realized Harry was cleaning he had to bite back another curse and it felt as thought that would become a habit.
"Come on, Harry bear," Draco said, taking away the rag and lifting the little boy onto his hip,
"Let's go find you something to play with."
Draco carried Harry into the living room. Unlike their nieces and nephews, Harry didn't seem comfortable being carried. His back was stiff and he wrapped his arms around his stomach. Draco bit his lip and said nothing.
When they got to their destination he could feel Harry start in his arms. Turning to the little boy he said, "Would you like to play a game? Or do you want to color?"
Little Harry's mouth hung open like a fish and Draco smiled. With that look and the light in his wide green eyes Harry looked like every other child Draco had seen over the years. He looked happy.
Draco set Harry down next to the child-sized table the couple had bought after Hermione had Gaia. A stack of coloring books, muggle and wizarding, sat next to a large jar of crayons in every hue imaginable in the center of the table. Draco guided Harry to one of the small wooden chairs and handed him a few coloring books and some crayons.
"Here you go, Harry bear. You play with these. Unco has to go make a call."
Harry looked at Draco questioningly, then turned to the first coloring book, full of farm animals drawn over-sized and friendly. When Draco stepped into the hallway Harry was halfway through drawing green spots on a cow.
A small votive candle sat next to a wall-mounted muggle telephone. Draco sprinkled some powder of the candle and the flame turned purple, a mobile FireCall.
"Granger-Weasley, are you there?"
On the other side of the flame Draco heard, "Mum, Uncle Draco is on the candle!"
Then Hermione's concerned voice came to the line, "Draco? What's going on?"
"Tell me everything you know about Harry's childhood."
The following conversation was full of words like 'neglect,' and 'malnourished.' 'Raised voices' and 'closet under the stairs' danced around the one word Hermione didn't use, 'abuse.' When the witch was done Draco thanked her tersely and blew out the candle before she could ask why he had wanted to know.
He took a few turns pacing up and down the hall until he felt he could go back into the living room with Harry without sweeping the little boy up in his arms and telling him nothing bad would ever happen to him again. Harry wouldn't understand, the gesture would only frighten him. And Draco didn't want to lie to him anyway.
When he felt calmer Draco walked back into the room to see that Harry had replaced the crayons in the jar and scooted his chair closer to the large toy box in the corner. Draco was disappointed to see that Harry was sitting on his hands.
"Harry bear?"
The boy looked up, startled. When he saw Draco he started scooting his chair closer to the table, finally putting his hands under the seat and picking it up, carrying it back to where he had been sitting.
"I color like you say, Unco. No touch toys, see." Harry held his hands up like chubby starfish, then tucked them back under his thighs on the low chair.
Taking a deep breath, Draco knelt down next to the chair until his eyes were at the same level as Harry's.
"Harry bear, would you like to play with the toys?"
The boy looked down at the wood-grained surface of the table and didn't respond.
Draco sighed theatrically and walked over to the box, pulling out one of his favorites, a miniature red train engine that had a working horn and blew real steam. He set himself on the carpet a few feet away from Harry and the toys and started the engine. A thin stream of smoke lifted from the tiny smoke stack and Draco pushed the train around on the floor, tracing the vine pattern on the rug like tracks and occasionally letting out a "Toot, toot," which he would echo with the horn on the train.
After a few minutes Draco looked at Harry through his fringe and noticed that though the boy still tried to remain focused on the table he would occasionally turn around and look at Draco and the train before whipping back around.
"Harry bear, do you want to play? I have another train and it would be more fun to play with someone than all by myself…" Draco let his voice trail off and turned off the train, letting it sit silently in front of him. He kept his eyes on the train, on the carpet underneath, and listened.
First he heard the chair creaking back and forth before there was a tiny, breathy laugh, and Harry plopped down on the carpet in front of him with a green train car in his hands.
"Unco, play?" The little boy's voice was tentative and quiet but when Draco looked up he saw that small smile again.
"We both play," Draco answered and he turned his train back on. The two spent the next hour voyaging across the carpet and over mighty couch-cushion mountains. They were derailed briefly by two bathroom breaks, first Harry then Draco, but continued onward, "Toot toot"-ing their way around the living room for several hours.
They moved on to building blocks next, then stuffed animals, interrupted by two more meals which required much less persuasion than breakfast had and several more trips to the bathroom.
Finally, as dusk was falling, they brought the trains out again, having them stop at stations Harry had built, or running away from terrible giant bears who were after their cargo and passengers.
Well, Harry didn't get that involved in the story. Mostly he just smiled while Draco chased him around with stuffed animals, growling.
They played like this until Harry was half asleep and Draco could barely keep his eyes open.
"I think it's time for bed, Harry bear," Draco said, standing slowly as the kinks in his back worked themselves out.
Harry nodded and stood the same way, bracing his hands on his lower back and arching backwards as Draco had. The blond Slytherin bit back a smile when the little boy looked at him for reassurance before reaching his hands out to Draco.
Feeling an odd lump in his throat Draco lifted the boy, holding him securely to his side and reveling in the firm softness of baby weight in his arms. He carried Harry up to the bedroom and set the little boy, now yawning enthusiastically, on the mattress.
Pulling the blanket up over his shoulders and tucking the red and green trains at his side, Draco pressed a soft kiss against Harry's forehead, right over the lighting bolt scar, and turned to walk out of the room.
He was stopped by a soft whimper. Then, "Unco?"
Draco turned around, "Yeah Harry Bear?"
"Stay?"
Draco nodded and pulled Big Harry's rocking chair closer to the bed. He settled in and got comfortable, shifting a bit in the squishy recliner. The last thing he saw before he fell asleep was Harry's smiling baby face, serene at rest.
Harry at 5
Draco was awakened by a heavy weight on his chest. Opening his eyes slowly the first thing he saw was a grin. As the fog of sleep faded he was able to focus on the green eyed boy who had planted himself on Draco's stomach.
The green eyes were the same, bright and friendly but still haunted with the underlying suspicion Draco had seen in the three-year-old.
"Good morning Unco," Harry chirped. "Missed you." The little boy leaned forward tentatively, then placed a quick kiss on the tip of Draco's nose before pulling back to stare down at the train cradled in his arms.
Draco's eyes had crossed at the kiss and he smiled at the top of Harry's head, all he could see as the little boy intently studied his train.
Draco grabbed Harry under the arms and swung him up into a hug as he got carefully out of the chair. Harry laughed quietly and gripped the train car tighter as Draco carried him downstairs to the kitchen.
This time Harry got a 'grown up chair' without the sticking charms, and as Draco put breakfast together the boy entertained himself by running the train over the table top, around the fruit bowl and napkin holder, whispering 'toot-toot.'
Draco got caught up in the scene, imagining his and Harry's real children in that position, that he failed to notice the porridge was burning until he was enveloped in a swathe of black smoke.
His eyes burning and tearing up, he reached for the fire extinguisher next to the stove and sprayed the white foam over the pot and the stove surface. Wiping his face on his sleeve, he turned to Harry laughing, but the boy was gone. The train was still on the table, and the chair was on its side on the floor.
The first place Draco looked was under the table. It was well within the realm of reality for a child to be scared of fire, no matter how harmless it might look, but the boy wasn't there.
"Harry bear," Draco called as he snagged a towel from the drawer under the counter and wiped the smoke and sweat off of his face. Looking down at himself he knew the shirt and jeans were a complete waste, smelling thickly of smoke and covered in foam from the extinguisher, but he would have to wait to change because Harry was somewhere in the house, alone and frightened.
Draco moved towards the living room, calling out, "Harry Bear? Where are you?"
The boy wasn't there, and all of the toys were still in their positions from the night before. Draco and Harry being too tired to pick them up at the time.
Thinking of that Draco went back upstairs. When he was a child and frightened he crawled into bed and pulled the covers up over his head, reasoning that if he couldn't see the danger, it couldn't see him.
The bedroom was empty, the sheets still disordered from the little boys fitful tossing from the night before. Draco crouched down to look under the bed, but there was nothing there. Panic traced cold fingers up his spine as all of the possibilities began racing through his head. Before the week started Draco had warded all of the house locks so Harry wouldn't be able to get out and hurt himself, but the house was two stories with a basement and attic and that left a lot of hiding places.
Draco felt his had spinning, and it was all he could do to stop himself from collapsing onto the floor in indecision. Harry could be anywhere in the house.
Draco paused for a moment, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Hysteria wasn't going to help him find Harry, and the longer he took, the more frightened the little boy would be.
Now calmer, Draco made his way to the basement, intending to work his way up through the house.
"Harry bear? Are you in here?"
The basement was cool, but not cold, and the air was dry. There were a few boxes piled in the corners and a muggle washer and dryer set sitting against the back wall. Draco looked into every hiding space small enough for an undersized five year old boy, but Harry wasn't there.
Mentally crossing the basement off of his list, Draco went back to the first floor. He knew already that Harry wasn't in the kitchen or living room so he checked the bathroom and the cloak closet by the door with no more luck.
Next he checked the second floor. The bedroom and en suite bath were empty, as was the walk-in closet. The guest bedroom as empty as well, Draco made sure to check under the beds there as well as the niche in the window seat.
Finally there was the attic. Full of old furniture draped in sheets it would ne a fine place to hide and Draco made a note to bring Harry up here to play at some point. But that was for the future. In the present Draco had gone through every room, every closet, every corner in the house with no sign of the green-eyed boy.
He made his way downstairs, finally sitting on the stairwell between the first and second floor. Setting his elbows on his thighs he buried his face in his hands. "I'm sorry Harry. You were right. I would be a terrible father. I don't know what I was thinking and now you're-- you're lost and scared and I can't do--"
Draco heard something. A tiny cough. He held his breath, hoping to hear the sound again.
And he did.
When they first moved into their home Harry had made a point of packing a small closet under the stairs completely full of boxes, and then locking and warding the door. Draco hadn't asked why at the time, he figured it was a fair swap for Harry not asking him about his occasional thumb-sucking, but now it broke into his mind with a startling clarity.
Pulling his wand from his pocket, Draco moved down the stair case and in front of the small closet. The wards had definitely been changed, torn apart and reset awkwardly but ith enough finesse and subtlety that Draco hadn't noticed them. Not he slowly worked the door open and inside he found his prize.
A tear-stained, sleeping, Harry bear.
The boxes had been shoved aside half crumpled, their contents spilling across the floor, to make just enough room for the small boy. Draco swung the door open wide and reached in, pulling Harry out and lifting him carefully. He kicked the cupboard door shut behind him and carried Harry into the living room, cradling him in his arms.
Together the two sat, Draco rocking Harry gently as the little boy snuffled and muttered little nonsense phrases in his sleep. Draco felt a pressure in his chest lighten as he heard Harry breathing in his arms, but with that came a few tears, welling in his eyes. He could feel them building up, but both of his arms were wrapped around Harry and he wasn't about to disturb the five year old just to wipe them away. He twisted his head and tried to brush them away on his shirt sleeve, but they wouldn't stop. He closed his eyes and through his closed lashes the salty droplets fell.
"Don't cry, Unco."
Draco heard the tear thickened voice and opened his eyes to see Harry's small hand reaching for him. The soft fingers brushed at his damp cheeks and Daco had to bite back a sobbing breath.
"I sorry, Unco. I didn't do it on purpose."
Draco was confused, "Do what Harry bear?"
The little boy frowned, "I made the fire. I did it."
Draco shook his head mutely as the little boy looked hime, eyes full of pain and understanding.
Harry went on, "It's my fault. I'm a freak. I'm sorry."
Draco pulled one hand away from Harry nd shushed him gently, "You're not a freak, and you didn't start that fire. It was my own idiocy in action. Who told you that you were a freak, Harry Bear?"
The little boy looked confused. Draco had altered the potion to shortn the length of time it would last, but that had weakened the barrier between the child and their original memories from those ages.
"Somebody told me. They were mean, and they were loud. I don't think I like them, Unco."
Harry's voice was weak and trembling.
Draco held him tightly and whispered into his ear, "I will keep you safe, Harry Bear. I love you and I will keep you safe."
Draco felt the warm dampness of tears soaking through his shirt. He was starting to feel hungry again, and he knew that once the little boy calmed down Harry would be starving, but for now they would sit together, giving and taking comfort.
Harry at 8
The final morning of Harry's second childhood dawned grey and cool. The day before had been quiet. After the hectic and frightening events of the morning, both Harry and Draco had been too tired and drained to play with the trains, or the blocks, instead choosing to spend the day quietly reading together. Draco had gotten through a book of fairy tales, Muggle and Wizarding, and a travel guide of Australia that Harry had chosen for the pictures. When dusk fell the two went to bed, Draco in Harry's chair, and Harry in the bed again, this time clutching a stuffed jellyfish to his chest.
"Harry bear, time to wake up." Draco pulled the blankets off of he sleeping boy to reveal an eight-year-old that almost resembled the boy he had met so many years before in the robe shop.
Harry shifted at the soundof his voice, but didn't wake.
"Harry bear, come on. Time for breakfast."
Draco tickled Harry lightly along the ribs, and twisting away from the gently scrabbling fingers the boy came awake, "I'm up, I'm up, Unco. Stop."
The green eyed boy didn't laugh but he was smiling and that was an extremely pleasant change from the sorrow and stress of the day before.
As Harry was eight now, Draco showed him to the bathroom so he could wash up by himself, and then the two went downstairs to the kitchen. Draco let Harry help him prepare breakfast, just toast and fruit, and as they sat down at the small table, he asked Harry how he wanted to spend the day.
The boy stared at him blankly. Draco tried to think of something Harry would like. They were a few years past the trains, and they had spent the previous day reading, so it would have to be something active--
"Harry bear, do you want to learn how to fly?"
The boy looked at his with shockand disbelief that turned into confused glee as Draco failed to say 'gotcha,' or 'just kidding.'
As soon as breakfast was done and the table cleared, both of them working together again,
Draco led Harry out into the large field behind the house. The shed held Harry and Draco's brooms and a few 'safety' brooms for the children who visited. Draco grabbed his broom and one of the traning brooms for Harry and the two of them began the lesson.
Just as it had been years before, Harry was a natural. He took to flying like a bird, testing the limits of the training broom at thirty feet in the air. The two of them flew around the field for hours, sometimes tossing a Quaffle back and forth, sometimes racing.
When the sun was at its zenith, Draco was exhausted. He loved flying but it had been a long time since he spent so much time on a broom.
"Harry bear, time for lunch."
The boy flew in slowly, reluctantly. "Do we have to stop?"
Draco smiled a the pout on the child's face, "I'm afraid so. Tell you what, though. We can fly a little more after lunch."
Harry smiled, dropped his broom on the gorund and lunged at Draco, knocking the blond to the ground. "Yay, Unco. You are the best."
Draco felt the smile on his face stretch into a grin, "I know I am." He ruffled Harry's hair, then pushed the little boy back so they could bot h stand up. Together the two of them walked, dusty and grass-stained, into the house.
Lunch passed quickly, then Harry was at the back door, dancing from foot to foot, "Come on, Unco. We're going to fly." at this last word the boy's eyes seemed to pick up a glow.
Draco smiled again, and reached out to ruffle Harry's hair. His hand fell short as he felt a wave of heat coming off of Harry's head.
Harry's smile fell away and his forehead ceased as he took in Draco's change in demeanor, "What's the matter, Unco? Are you sick?"
"I'm not, Harry. But you might be, come with me." Taking Harry's hand he led the boy into the bathroom and pulled out the thermometer they kept on hand for the children. It was electronic and went into the ear. Gaia was it's most frequent user, squirreling it away so she could play hospital with her sister and cousins, but Grown Up Harry always managed to find it again and return it to its spot in the bathroom cabinet.
Draco had Harry sit on the toilet lid and turned the thermmeter on, holding it to Harry's ear and asking the little boy to keep it in place.
They waited the requisite thirty seconds, then the machine beeped and Harry jumped at the noise. Daco ook the thermometer backand read it carefully twice over. Clearing the display, he turned to Harry and said, "I'm sorry, but it looks as though you have a fever."
"So?" the little boy had a guileless look in his eyes. "I feel fine, let's go fly." Wit that Harry jumped up from his seat and rushed past Draco to the back door, reaching for the deadbolt.
Draco followed him and stopped him. Kneeling down next to the boy Draco made sure Harry met his eyes, "Harry you can't fly anymore today. I know you wanted to and I'm sorry about that but if you're sick you need to rest."
Draco had been gripping Harry's shoulders gently, but at his las words the little boy jeakred free and backed away, tears and betrayal in his eyes.
"You lied to me, Unco. I--" Harry looked upset and confused, "I hate you." Then the boy tuend and ran out of the room. Draco head him stomping upstairs, even as he collapsed to the floor.
Harry hated him.
After a few minutes of melodramatic wallowing, Draco allowed himself one self-deprecating smile before he got up off of the floor and wen looking for Harry.
This time the small cupboard under the stairs was the first place he looked, in case the boy had been sneakier than expected and silently walked back downsairs. He didn't know why Harry had hidden in there after the fire, but he was going to ask the Gryffindor as soon as he returned to himself. Still, it was futile this time as Harry wasn't in there, the boxes and their disturbed conents lying as Draco had left them the day before.
Sighing deeply and rubbing his eyes, Draco walked up the stairs.
His first stop was in their bedroom and the first thing he saw was a high pile of blankets with a shaking form underneath. Draco moved towards it slowly, noting the train engine on the floor half draped with the velour tentacles of a stuffed jellyfish.
"Harry bear?"
The lump went still but didn't reply.
"Harry bear, are you feeling all right?"
With a thick huff, skinny arms emerged from the blankets and pushed them away, revealing a flushed face topped with tousled hair. Harry looked at Draco silently, his face bare of expression and his eyes fever-bright.
"I'm sorry Harry bear. I just want to take care of you."
The boy turned away ostentatiously, tossing the blankets away.
"Okay, love, but this behavior only goes so far. I know you're upset and I do feel badly about that, but your health is the most important thing and I'm not going to let you get worse even if it means you hate me."
The boy rolled back over when Draco was done speaking. There were tears in the bottom of the green eyes. "I don't hate you, Unco. I love you. But you lied to me, and you're not supposed to lie. Grown ups shouldn't lie. It's not fair." With that the tears that threatened to fall finally did and Draco moved to the bed as quickly as he could, wrapping his arms around Harry.
The boy was hot and sweaty from the fever and the weight of the covers. Draco pushed his hair back and dried his face with a clean handkerchief as the tears slowed and finally stopped.
"Better now, Harry Bear?"
The little boy nodded sleepily.
Draco tucked the blankets up again. "You rest now, Harry Bear. I'll fix some soup for later on."
Draco stood up carefully lying the now-sleeping Harry onto the pillows.
An hour later Harry wandered into the kitchen dragging the jellyfish behind him, the train engine still wrapped in its soft tentacles, bumping and clacking against the tile floor.
Draco led Harry to a chair and felt his forehead. The fever was gone, the boy soaked in sweat.
"Well it looks like you're a little better, Harry Bear."
"'m sleepy still," the boy mumbled, "But I'm hungry."
Draco ladled out two bowls of soup, thick with noodles and big chunks of carrot and chicken.
"Here you go, Harry. This should hit the spot," he said, setting the bowls on the table, one in front of Harry and one next to him. They ate together in silence. When the bowls were emptied, or mostly empty in Harry's case, the little boy's eyes were drooping again.
Daco moved forward to pick Harry up, but the little boy waved him away. "Don't wanna go back to bed. I'm better, want to go flying," he mumbled, his eyes half closed.
Draco lifted Harry anyway, setting the sturdy weight on his hip and carrying the boy into the living room. One of the couches sat in front of a floor to ceiling window that looked out onto the fields behind the house so Draco sat there, arranging the boy comfortably in his lap. "Look Harry. You're still tired, so you can rest here and look at the sky. In a few hours we'll go flying again."
"Promise," the boy mumbled, sliding into sleep.
"Promise," Draco repeated.
The afternoon passed slowly and peacefully for Draco. Past the latest drama he had the time to actually think about the past few days and the truth was, he still wanted children. It had been difficult and crazy and wonderful and painful all at once and he didn't really want to give it up.
It hadn't been perfect by any stretch of the imagination, but he thought he did a good job as a father and when he and Harry had children for real they could share all of it, the good and bad.
Draco pulling the window shades down when the sun shone too brightly through the window, but as the vibrant colors of sunset began to streak across the sky he reopened the shade and prodded Harry awake. Together they watched the end of the day paint fire across the sky, and then it was twilight.
Draco heard Harry sniffling, and shifted the boy over, worried his fever had come back, but his head was cool. "Harry, what's wrong?"
"You broke your promise," the boy said softly. "We didn't fly."
Draco smiled gently and picked Harry up, carrying him back outside to the shed. The door was still open and Draco called out his broom. Holding Harry closely to his chest, he mounted the broom, setting Harry in front of him, and together they flew across the slate grey sky as it turned dark. Fireflies burst out of the gloom and for a while they chased the sparkling bits of light, Harry giggling at the wind in his hair and the bugs that flew just out of reach.
After a while it got too dark to see and Harry sagged exhaustedly against Draco, "I'm too tired all the time," the little boy said, yawning.
"That's okay, Harry Bear. You'll feel better tomorrow."
They landed the broom and Draco carried the dozing Harry inside. He persuaded the boy to eat a small sandwich, and pushed him through his ablutions, getting his face washed, his teeth brushed, and sweaty pajamas changed out into a clean set.
Tucking the boy into bed Draco turned to sit in his chair, just as exhausted as Harry after the long day, but a tug to the hem of his shirt stopped him. He turned and saw Harry looking up at him with a pleading expression.
"What's the matter, Harry Bear? Do you want your train? Or the jellyfish? They're still in the kitchen, I think."
The boy shook his head, and pushed the blankets down the bed, scooting over to the middle of the wide Queen sized mattress.
"Stay."
Draco debated the idea. This was Harry's last night as a child. In a few hours he would be Draco's husband again. If this had all gone well then they might be adopting a child of their own soon, but if it didn't this might be Draco's last chance to hold his own little boy.
Dousing the light, Draco slipped into the bed, lying on his back as Harry laid his head on his chest, one thin arm thrown across his stomach.
The morning would come soon enough.
Harry at 28.
Draco woke up cold and reached for Harry, but the Gryffindor was gone. Opening his eyes he saw Harry, adult Harry, standing next to the bed, facing away.
"Harry…"
The Gryffindor shook his head sharply, and Draco lapsed into silence. With a heavy sigh Harry sat, or collapsed, onto the bed, planting his head in his hands.
His voice muffled, Harry said, "This is why we can't have children, Draco. You did this without my consent, without telling me. I spent days as a child—"
"You were happy," Draco put in, then bit his tongue.
"It doesn't matter. You should have told me. If I can't trust you with things like this, how can I—"
Harry got up and walked out of the room. Draco noticed Harry was fully dressed and got up to follow him, wrapping a blanket around his pajama clad form.
"Harry? Harry!"
By the time he caught up to the Gryffindor he was on the curb outside the house hailing the Knight Bus. When Harry turned around, Draco saw tears in the green eyes and the hand Draco had raised to call him back fell to his side.
Harry was gone.
Draco allowed himself three hours to get into a full strop of wailing and screaming and crying and throwing things. Then he repaired all of the damage he'd done to himself and their home, got dressed, and made his way to the Weasley's. He knew Harry would be hiding there and he meant to confront the cowardly Gryffindor.
As he approached The Little Burrow, as Ron had named their house (perhaps it was for the best he hadn't named his children after all) Draco saw Harry and Hermione standing at the kitchen window. He cast a few spells to muffle his steps and blend his appearance with the surroundings and moved closer to the window.
Hermione's voice, even and reassuring, floated out through the mid-morning air.
"…sure he didn't mean anything by it, Harry. It's not your fault you don't want children."
Draco held his breath, waiting for Harry's recital of all the reasons he thought Draco would be a failure as a dad.
"It's not that, Hermione. I want children, I really do. And there's Draco, he's wonderful with kids. You should have seen the way he was this week. He was amazing. But I don't know how to be a dad. I mean, what sort of example have I had. And I love your girls, believe me, but every time they start crying or need something I hand them off."
Draco heard the strain in Harry's voice and thought about it. There had been a number of times when Harry had given him a weeping Gaia to change or feed or coddle until she calmed down. And every time Turtle fell into one of her tantrums Harry had found something to do outside the room. Lost in thought, Draco stopped listening to the conversation. Then he heard his name and his attention was caught again.
"Draco will be there to help you, Harry. And you know he will be a good father. Together you two will be remarkable."
"Hermione the only father figure I have ever known is my uncle, and if there is the slightest chance that I could turn into him, to do what he did to m-- I can't take the chance. I love Draco, but if he wants children he will have to have them with someone else."
Draco moved away from the window, his heart breaking again and this time for his husband.
Harry, you would be such a wonderful father. I know it in my heart, and you need to know it too.
Pulling out his wand, Draco apparated back to their house. He had arrangements to make.
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Note: This is in response to Amber V's desire for a kid!fic. I'm afraid it isn't as light and funny as you or I might have wanted, but it's what the muses gave me to work with. There will be a second chapter. I have the ideas but it isn't written yet so you will have to be patient. But I certainly hope everyone enjoyed this installment.
So, review this and tell me what you think, I value your opinions. And if any of you have a request, let me know. I do, to a certain extent, value specificity.