Remember to turn on the Light

by KeelieThompson1

Over the years, the Potters and Malfoys have helped start wars and end them. But perhaps, the most impressive thing would be to prevent a third war! In which, Harry is often baffled by the idea of love and realises that perhaps alienating people can cause more problems that it solves, while Draco is generally baffled by Harry and learns to pick his battles. MPreg Draco/Harry

1. Harry

Chapter 1:Harry

Summary: Harry deals with pregnancy, magic, whatever the hell he has going on with Draco, and the fact that his son might just be far too much like Harry himself.

Warnings: Mention of abuse and very vague references to torture but lots of discussions about the consequences.

---

"Pregnant?" Harry gasped, eyes dancing between the blob being illuminated by the spell hovering about his stomach and the rather disappointed face of Healer Jackson. "How?"

"Mr Potter, if I have to explain that-"

Groaning, Harry flopped backwards and stared at the ceiling in sheer disbelief. Fucking Malfoy and his stupid…general stupidness. And alcohol. And ridiculous charity balls to ensure that they all made a show of forgive and forget.

But Malfoy was definitely more to blame.

Unless…

"Can wizards just spontaneously you know…create-"

"No," Healer Jackson said staring back down at her chart. "I take it that your partner at the time is not someone that you would choose as the other father of your child?"

Other father?

Jesus, that was probably taking the whole 'we're all friends' bullshit a bit too far.

"You might say that," Harry said, fighting the urge to roll into the pillow beneath him as if he was a sulking child. "Pregnant as in a baby?"

"Mm," Healer Jackson said, jotting something down. "As in eight months from now, should you choose-"

Harry blinked up at her. "Should I choose?"

"To continue the pregnancy." Here she looked at him properly, a gentle expression on her face. "Should you wish to terminate, you will need to do it quickly before your magic accepts the foetus and starts to actively protect it-"

"I'll keep it," he said, pulling up his knees as if to hide his stomach.

"Then you will need to take a leave of absence from work." She caught his gaze and gave him a pointed look. "Working as an auror is inadvisable. You might be able to take a desk job-"

Nope.

"-otherwise it will have to be an extended leave-"

Harry groaned again and buried his face in his knees.

"-and of course, assuming that the other father will not be a part of the pregnancy, you should consider the merits of continuing your current profession, though that choice should be up to you-"

"Other father," Harry muttered. "Oh god, do I have to tell him?"

Healer Jackson snorted. "No, but I think you're the only one who should tell him."

"Eight months?" Harry checked. "How long does it take for a baby to talk? Could the baby tell him?"

She gave his stomach a long look and then glanced up at him. "I think you should probably have time to assimilate this information. We can book you an appointment next week when the shock wears off."

Xxx

He wasn't entirely sure where he was going except that he ended up in front of Hermione and Ron's door at about dinner time and knocked on their door over and over until Hermione yanked it open, furious.

"What?" she snapped. "Harry, do you know what day it is?"

"Yep," he said, barging in. "It's Harry finds out Malfoy knocked him up day."

Whatever she'd been about to say failed her and she stopped almost dead, eyes widening as he stomped into their living area and crashed onto their sofa with a long groan.

"Harry, it's fucking Valentine's Day," Ron complained from the table where candles flickered, disguising what was probably the grim remains of his cooking.

He looked up over the arm of the sofa. "Pregnant."

"Hermione told you?" Ron asked, sounding disappointed. "I just-"

What?

Turning, he glared at her and then blinked at her grabbing one of Ron's thick jumpers and pulling it over what looked like a rather flattering dress and his mind almost started to catch up again. "Ooh, you two were," he gestured between them feeling like a lunatic.

"Harry," Hermione said, folding her arms over the jumper, "is apparently pregnant too."

"Who did you get…" Ron trailed off and then stared at him before banging his head against the table and started to mutter under his breath.

"I'm sorry," Harry said, gathering himself up, "I just…" he turned and hung his head between his knees feeling oddly as if he might simultaneously burst into tears and puke. "Oh god, Malfoy of all people. This is like…I'm literally the caution story." He lifted his head. "Never drink. Never, ever, ever-"

"Harry," Hermione said, closer and he could feel her hands wrap around his wrists. "Do you want some food and we can talk about it?"

Miserable, he nodded. "I can wait until tomorrow," he muttered.

"Mate, you've killed the mood," Ron said and the sofa dipped as a comforting hand rested on his back. "I mean…you mentioned Malfoy and sex. I'm out for at least twenty-four hours."

Xxx

Two days later, Harry tossed a ball at the ceiling of Grimmauld place, ignoring the forlorn way Kreacher stared at him.

Reasons to tell: it was probably morally right, extra baby sitter, the baby would know its other parent. Malfoy might start to be nicer. Malfoy might be able to take over the charity functions because he'd be like the poster boy for being friends with former enemies. Baby could take over charity functions…

Reasons to not tell: Malfoy was Malfoy, Malfoy being involved in the baby's life might turn it into a brat, Malfoy might try suing for custody, Malfoy might not give a shit.

Oh and Malfoy was married and had a baby on the way and his wife was as fragile as a fairy wing right now because she'd had two miscarriages since getting married two years ago.

"Am I being childish?" he asked, turning his head to Neville who was sat looking through the recommended shopping list for expectant fathers, "I mean…we're not in a relationship, we're barely civil to each other, and his wife is…oh God, why did I sleep with him?" Harry hissed, catching the ball and leaning his head back.

"Because you and champagne should never mix," Neville said with a sigh, putting down the list. "And honestly, Harry…that list of yours is looking…maybe you shouldn't."

"And yet I can't help but think I should," Harry said, rubbing at his neck. "Despite everything. I'd want to know," he added, twisting to stare at Neville. "Would you?"

Neville winced. "Yes," he said. "But then you and I might have a slightly different attitude towards it given our family history. And I mean…he's not stupid- Harry he isn't stupid," he said when Harry opened his mouth, "He can count backwards from the birth date."

Crap. "Okay," he said, drawing in a breath, "I can do this. I am going to be responsible for an entire human being soon." The gut-wrenching panic struck again. "Oh god, I'm gonna be responsible for a baby."

"A half Potter, half Malfoy baby," Neville pointed out slowly with some dawning horror. "Slightly regretting my career choice. What are the chances you won't send it to Hogwarts?"

Xxx

That plan was scuppered about two days later.

"So," Harry said, sitting on the floor staring at the newspaper, "your…." He winced and looked up. "Other father, was drugged at the party and attacked afterwards. And…me, I….Daddy was a thundering idiot and just went to throw up on the Petunias (because, kid if you're gonna throw up on a flower, pick those) and went home and was absolutely oblivious. And um…your…step-mother, I guess, is on bed rest and they're debating starting labour early to save her and the baby. So…technically I had sex with someone who was drugged." God, the implications of that made him want to be sick.

That and the morning sickness.

"So, on balance, what with recovering from being attacked and his wife and baby…you and I are gonna just…" he looked down at his stomach. "Think it's just gonna be you and me, kid. So if you could not come out with blond hair and a pointy chin and grey eyes…" he debated that for a moment, "that would be really handy. And I will, somehow, make this into something that is much less messy by the time you arrive."

His stomach, still flat and somedays Harry could absolutely forget he was sharing it with his baby, did nothing, but he was certain that there was a radiating disapproval.

"Yeah," he said, rubbing it, "you and me both. I really think I've fucked this up."

Xxx

"How is this a thing?" Harry asked with some despair as he glanced around the class he had let Hermione drag him to.

"It's recommended," Hermione said, looking a little nervous. "We need to become aware of our babies' magic and our own. Research suggests this is the best way to avoid squibs or miscarriages."

"It's yoga and meditation," Harry muttered, glancing around at the class. There was one other male there and only about ten of them. "If I hear one word about spirit or centre-"

"How you managed to get your OWLS is beyond me," Hermione sighed.

xxx

Since it was just gonna be him and mini-Potter, he handed in his resignation. Robards looked stunned and then spent about an hour arguing with him to just take a brief career break.

No fucking way was he risking the kid being little more than an orphan. He'd ruined things with Malfoy or…shit, he couldn't regret being so uselessly drunk that he'd had sex and stumbled off because, somehow, he already loved the kid, but he could have handled it better, he guessed, so he had to do all he could to give the kid a better start.

"Well," Hermione said, the kitchen table that had once hosted order meetings now the scene of Harry's career choice meetings. "So you want to be flexible and active but not dangerous."

There was something wrong with him because the second she said 'not dangerous', he thought boring.

"Teaching?"

"At Hogwarts? That could possibly be more dangerous than being an auror," Ron said, trying to sort out case files on the table.

"I second that," Neville said as he sorted through his marking. "Also, at some point, you would have to teach your kid and their kid and Malfoy's kid-"

"I'm out," Harry muttered. "I bet there's a whole pile of karma just waiting to hit. Let's not help it."

"I can make a list," Hermione offered brightly.

"You've got ages," Neville pointed out.

Xxx

Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy was born almost two weeks later, two months premature and while his father was still recovering from the attack.

"What we are going to take from this, is that you are really lucky that Malfoy is not going to be involved in naming you," Harry said slowly, rubbing at his eyes. "Shit."

Xxx

Astoria died not long after, the shock of what had happened to her husband and the strain of pregnancy and the labour not helping her at all.

The funeral was closed and private and the pictures that managed to surface in the Prophet was of a pale, too-still Malfoy standing with his mother and a few scattered faces that Harry recognised from school. The baby was still too ill to be away from the healers and Malfoy had looked as if walking was difficult and Harry wondered if it was grief or an injury.

Almost three months since they'd had sex and Malfoy's life looked like it had been completely destroyed and the letter that he sent returned un-opened.

"Okay," Harry whispered late at night as his mind kept whirring, "Okay so…we can revisit this. Because he can grieve and slowly get better and I can…be friendlier and then we can tell him. And that way, you could tell him and that, in all honesty might go down better because there is no way you can be as big a mess at this as I am."

"And you have a brother," he added. "Shit, kid. Your father…" Harry stared ahead trying to get his head around all that Malfoy had suffered, "Your father might just be the strongest person ever."

Xxxx

"So," Healer Jackson said with a smile, "How are you feeling?"

"I uh…good." Harry stroked a hand over his stomach. "I think we're both good. I mean…no bump yet."

"It'll come," Healer Jackson soothed. "Your magic seems to have settled. You're strong and healthy and there are good signs coming from the baby. Would you like to know the sex?"

"Yeah," Harry said, rubbing his stomach. "Please."

Xxx

"Think it's wrong?" Ron said as Hermione went to the kitchen to put on the kettle, "to plan our kids getting married?"

"Sensible," Harry said, flicking through the channels on the TV, "I mean we were meant to be brother in laws before I fucked it up with Ginny. We can set all the plans in motion but then the kids can, if they really have to, fall in love with other people."

Hermione reappared in the kitchen doorway. "You had better not be marrying off my daughter," she called.

"Daughter," Ron said for the fourth time that evening before casting a longing look at Harry's stomach. "Boys are easier, right? I mean…Ginny as a kid was a pain and Hermione was way too smart and I could barely keep up with either of them and oh god, what if she brings home a version of teenage me?"

"Harry's son could inherit Harry's taste in men," Hermione offered.

"Yep. Drugged and about to be kidnapped," Harry said, sliding down the sofa. "Gets me every time."

"Mate, you have got to let it go," Ron said with a sigh. "You didn't know. Hell, for all you know, you were both drugged." He and Hermione exchanged a look. "You need to focus on your son."

Son.

Whoa was that scary.

Xxx

By the sixth month, Harry loved the boy, he really did, but the kid wriggled. Constantly. Probably some sort of Malfoy bloodline objecting to common surroundings.

"Come on," Harry soothed, moving the baby as best he could. "Can you like…curl up. Curling up is so good. You know you want to."

The baby remained stubbornly flopped out, as much as it could and then wriggled again and Harry hissed and winced as the baby started to find a comfortable position and slowly let himself be rolled back into a ball.

"You're weird," Harry said, returning to the book of baby names.

Xxx

Seven months in, he found himself in the middle of a stupid duel with someone trying to rob Madame Mulkin's because for a moment he forgot he wasn't an auror and pregnant and not seventeen and immortal and it was fine because the thief was not the best dueller but then he slipped and fell awkwardly (which was beyond embarrassing) and was put on bed-rest.

"Really?" Molly huffed as she shuffled around his third sitting room and the only one he ever really used. "Duelling. In your condition?"

"Pregnant not dead," Harry muttered petulantly. "And the baby enjoyed it," he added. "He did fucking cartwheels afterwards."

She swiped him over the head. "Don't swear," chided the woman who had shrieked bitch in the great hall of Hogwarts once, "and you need to be more careful, young man. You're all this boy has."

Yeah and whose fault was that?

"Oh Harry," she said, softly, apparently catching his expression and sitting on the sofa next to him as she stroked his hair, "We're all here for you. I didn't mean it like that. I just worry," she added. "I don't like you alone. Are you sure your young man won't-"

"I can't tell him," Harry whispered. "And I genuinely mean that. I can't get through to him and there's way too much in his life at the moment, but the longer I leave it…" he shrugged and was shocked at the tears that welled up.

"Do you love him?"

Harry snorted and shook his head. "No. But he's…the father. The other father, I mean," he said with a weak chuckle. "Merlin, magic is weird," he admitted.

Molly smiled and leaned into press a kiss to his head.

"Molly," Harry said, reaching for her hand as she moved to pull away. "I know…I don't…" he huffed at himself and took a breath. "Could the baby call you and Arthur-"

"Of course," she said, squeezing his hand. "Of course, Harry. This will be our first grandson, as far as I'm concerned."

Xxx

It had been so long since anything of Malfoy had been seen in the Prophet or just generally, that the sight of him with a thin looking blond-haired baby were quite a shock. Scorpius had to be about five months old now, but he looked tiny and Harry found himself studying the picture hard to try and see if it contained some magical sign that Malfoy was ready to find out about the bastard child he'd sired on his school nemesis.

Shockingly, nothing really obvious jumped out.

"That," he said to the bump, "is your father and brother." He counted on his fingers and then glanced at the calendar. "You got about two weeks kid before you and he end up in different school years. Which…" he debated it for a moment. "Hopefully by that point he'll know. Otherwise, you can definitely be the one to tell Malfoy. You'll be eleven, I'm sure you can handle it."

Xxx

He sent another letter, hoping to strike up a conversation at least.

It returned unopened.

He tried Parkinson.

Potter, the publicity stunt is boring. Leave Draco in peace. Please.

Okay.

He drafted a reply. That went something like: Sure, will do. Can you pass on that he knocked me up when he was drugged and his son is going to be born any day now.

But then he crossed out his because the baby was Harry's too and then that looked petty and maybe it all seemed flippant when he wrote it like that and she'd think it was a joke and what if he wrote something on paper that meant Malfoy could just swoop in and steal the baby.

He chucked it in the fire and sat, stroking his constantly wriggling son who was definitely acting like a dog turning around to find the perfect spot to sit in.

"You have been in there long enough to know the best spots," Harry muttered at his son. "just… settle down."

The baby didn't settle down. And on the 31st of August started to demand he was let out.

On the 1st September, he came screeching into the world like he was training to be a banshee.

Xxx

"He's gorgeous," Hermione whispered, having a cuddle which was surprisingly easy when she had her own bump. His son seemed to be half resting on her daughter and seemed to be musing over whether the position was comfortable.

"He's tiny," Ron said, looking at the baby with some trepidation. "Like…really tiny. Ours will be bigger, right?" Ron asked, Hermione.

"God, I hope not," Hermione muttered, shifting uncomfortably and then letting out a pleased squeak when the baby let out a tiny yawn and fluttered a mitten covered hand in the air. "What's he called?"

"Felix," Harry said. "Lucked out, right?"

Hermione smiled at that and exchanged a look with Ron. "You want to hold him?"

Ron shook his head quickly.

"You don't want to get in practise before our daughter is born?"

"He's not Ron's trial run," Harry protested, making grabby hands at the baby. "Give him back."

Xxx

Felix was perfect and gorgeous and if an entire army came for his son, Harry would kill every single one of them, but the kid cried. And cried. And it was perfectly normal, but usually people had another person to share the crying with and Harry had no-one at home and fucking hell, how bad would it be to use a sleeping potion on his baby?

Xxx

Felix had blond wisps coming through and Harry hummed as the baby sobbed into his neck while he cooked up the stew. "I know," he said, soothingly, "How terrible is it that Uncle Ron made such a loud noise. He's a wanker, isn't he?"

Behind him, Ron yawned. "If Hermione kicks me out of bed one more time in this pregnancy, I'm selling the baby. To like, a really good family, but fuck me, mate. And then that to look forward to?"

Harry turned around and stared at him. "Think he's being mean to you," he said as Felix let out a wet hiccup, settling a little. "Want me to kill him for you?"

The baby huffed.

"Still not sure what that means," Harry admitted.

Ron snorted and then stood. "Come on then," he said, drawing in a deep, steeling breath. "Let's…have a cuddle."

Harry helped him take the baby and watched, amused as Felix was settled into the crook of Ron's arm and he would swear Ron had looked less scared when they'd got caught in that haunted manor house last year. "Harry," Ron said urgently, "Harry, he moves."

Laughing, Harry turned back to the stew. "Sit down," he suggested.

Xxx

Rose Weasley was born at the end of September and Harry grinned because he'd been worried about Felix and Scorpius not being in the same year and had forgotten that Felix and Rose would be.

Ron was staring at Rose when Harry got to visit. He looked stunned beyond belief and Hermione smiled as Harry sat down on the bed by her.

"Think he's a bit taken," she said, watching her husband and daughter before she peered down at the sleeping Felix in Harry's arms. She gave the baby a soft stroke with her finger. "He's getting big."

"That's because he doesn't stop eating," Harry said.

"Wonder where he gets that from," Ron chipped in.

Xxx

His parents' grave remained silent when he took Felix there and his son gnawed determinedly at his own fist; he seemed deeply proud of the ability and pouted whenever someone risked life and limb by sliding their finger in to pull the fist out.

"Hi," Harry whispered, crouching down and Felix let out an annoyed sound at the change in height. "So, this is your grandson," he said, pressing a kiss to the fluffy blond hair. "Felix James Potter." He looked up, trying to remember what they had looked like when he'd seen them. "He has your eyes, mum," he added and then hummed. "And…I get it. I used to think it must have been such a burden, me and the prophecy and everything, but…I don't know what I'd do," he whispered, pulling Felix to him and then leaned forward, resting his head against the stone and, for a second, he thought he could feel a gentle touch on his back. "I'm fucking it up," he whispered and turned so that he was sitting against the grave, turning Felix so the baby was looking out across the graveyard. "He'll hate me. When he asks why there's just me, what do I say?" He let out a breath, "And I've barely seen Teddy. I should go see him."

Xxx

Six year old Teddy was deeply unimpressed by Felix who took one look at his surroundings and promptly started to snore. But Andromeda took Felix and was seemingly delighted with the baby while Harry and Teddy ran around playing auror and dark wizard and possibly Teddy managed to feel a little less upset that his godfather was no longer an auror.

"Thanks," Harry said as Andromeda handed him a cup of tea while Teddy slept curled up on his lap. "Felix all right?"

"He's fine. He's a sweet little thing."

"He's deceptive," Harry said with a small laugh. "I'm sorry I haven't been around as much."

"I think we can forgive you," Andromeda said. "Harry."

"Mm," he said, making sure none of the tea spilled upon the boy in his lap.

"Who's the father?"

He looked up and met her gaze solemnly. "Me," he said firmly. "Just me."

Xxx

Christmas was loud and lively and Felix was pointing and babbling away with his big green eyes trying to take everything in while Rose slept through most of the proceedings. Ginny announced her engagement to Dean Thomas and Bill and Fleur were having another baby. Teddy and Victorie played together outside in the snow with Charlie and George throwing snowballs at them and Arthur and Molly slow danced in the kitchen, whispering to each other.

He tried to picture it. Draco Malfoy there too and that frail little baby that he guarded so determinedly. And then Narcissa came into the picture and maybe she and Andromeda could finally bury their grudge and-

And Lucius and Arthur could have a lovely chat and Molly could explain to Narcissa exactly how she had killed Bellatrix and Harry could get Malfoy to show off the finer details about the effects of throwing unknown curses at each other.

Stupid.

Xxx

"Fuck, Potter," Malfoy hissed as he finally let the kiss end and Harry stared up at him, dazed. Before thought could flood in, Malfoy was back; lips, teeth and tongue intoxicating and Harry scrambled at his back, trying to tug him in closer, the wall freezing against his back.

"We shouldn't do this," Malfoy whispered, sounding torn as he nipped at Harry's ear. "I shouldn't do this."

"Okay," Harry panted, even as he dropped his hand down to pull at Malfoy's belt because Malfoy's hand was already in his trousers. "That's fine."

Malfoy let out a huffed amused breath and dropped to his knees.

xxx

Harry stared down at his sleeping son, arms flung out and blond hair matted and fat little belly rising and falling with ease.

"You were made this time last year," he said with a smile, "which is beyond weird." He reached down a hand and stroked his thumb across the soft cheek. "I love you," he said, words that he so rarely had ever spoken to anyone, tripping from his lips with ease. "Never doubt that."

He sat back and dragged the hand over his mouth. "Fuck," he whispered.

Xxx

"Andy," he said the next time he went to see Teddy, "It's Malfoy," he said, swallowing. "So…I guess, meet your great nephew."

She didn't seem too surprised. "I can tell Narcissa," she offered.

"You two talk?"

"No," she said, almost amused by the idea, "but…sometimes there are things more important."

Xxx

A week later, there was a booming knock. Repeatedly thumping on the wards around the protected house and Harry threw a quick charm around Felix's room before his son woke up and howled like the demon spawn he could resemble.

The fire place was thumping a blue magical colour and then back to the normal flames. Having some idea of what was coming, Harry pulled his dressing gown tighter, took a breath and let Malfoy through.

He stepped into the lounge looking as if he was wrath incarnate. He didn't say anything, but he looked like he was about to shake apart with fury. "I swear to Merlin, Potter, if this is some joke-"

"Yeah," Harry said, sitting on the arm of one of the chairs. "you know what, I was just thinking what could be more funny than to pretend to give birth to Malfoy's spawn-"

"Do not refer to him like that-"

"Don't tell me how to talk about my son," Harry snapped back. "He could be the fucking second coming and you wouldn't have a clue-"

"Because you didn't tell me-"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I return your letters? Did I refuse to leave my manor house? Did my mother cut off her sister?" Did my friends refuse to pass on messages?"

Malfoy opened his mouth and then closed it again. "And yet you found a way now. The second you had put me down on the birth certificate, my family tree would have been updated-"

"Along with half the wizarding world. Forgive me for not wanting that sprawled across the front page-"

"You are always on the front fucking page," Malfoy exploded. "You sneezed last week and it got on there."

"It was a slow week-" Harry groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "This is…are you just here to yell?"

Malfoy said nothing and then almost collapsed into the sofa. He looked exhausted and thin and Harry felt something in him soften a little at the sight of him. "When the hell did we even…"

"The charity ball when you were…" Malfoy looked up and something odd crossed his face. "I was…really drunk. I'm sorry. I…we must have and then you must have been…" he winced. "I had no idea. Malfoy, if I had…"

The man held up a hand for Harry to stop.

"Yeah," Malfoy said slowly. "When else could it have been."

"Look I know that he wasn't…it's not the best conception story," Harry said uncertainly. "And you've had…a shit year." Malfoy said nothing but closed his eyes. "So…no judgement, Malfoy. As involved as you want."

Malfoy didn't say anything. Instead, he stared at the fireplace and Harry was struck as to how much he fit in this room. It was the formal room that Harry tended to avoid but that the main floo was connected to and Hermione said it was something like the main reception room, whatever the hell that meant. Harry avoided it like the plague, but Malfoy looked like some lord, the fire playing on his pale face.

"You've kept him out of the papers."

"Hermione did it," Harry said quietly.

Sucking in a breath, Malfoy glared at him. "I meant…I meant I don't…I was barely aware that it was a boy."

"Felix," Harry offered. "For luck."

Malfoy snorted. "I can cope with that," he muttered.

"Felix James Potter," Harry added, unable to not. Malfoy winced and shook his head, but looked back at the flames.

"Is he…how is he?"

"You want to see him?"

Malfoy jolted like Harry had Avada-Kedavad him. But he nodded after a few seconds and Harry nodded back. "Just…can we not argue when we do?" he asked as he stood slowly.

Malfoy looked deeply insulted. "I'm not an idiot, Potter."

They went up in silence and Harry led the way to avoid seeing what he imagined was Malfoy's disapproval.

The baby was in his typical position when Malfoy and Harry walked in. Curious, he watched Malfoy's face become very still. Then a trembling finger reached out and stroked the little hand.

"What will it take?" Malfoy asked slowly, "To be involved."

"Think that's up to you," Harry said quietly.

"Of all the people," Malfoy whispered.

Wow. Still a complete dick.

Xxx

In March, Ron turned twenty-four and Malfoy met Harry in a muggle park.

Harry wasn't entirely sure which made him feel more unnerved because on the one hand, Ron was pretty much in his mid-twenties and sometimes when Harry watched him with Rose, all he could see was the idiot who had once turned his wand on himself to see if he could add a few more inches and weren't they meant to have everything all sorted by now?

But Malfoy in a muggle park? Harry had made the suggestion as a starting point for negotiations and had been baffled when Malfoy had just said yes without argument.

He came alone and his eyes were fixated on Felix from the very first moment. Awake, the six-month-old was staring at everything because he was a nosy little beggar. All green eyes and blond wisps and plump cheeks, his son could have been straight from one of those magazine covers about babies and how wonderful they were.

"You want to hold him?" Harry asked.

Malfoy blinked at him and then nodded. Harry looked down at his bundled-up son and held him up to Malfoy who slowly took him and drew Felix close.

His son studied Malfoy seriously, almost suspiciously and Malfoy stared back at him. Then Felix let loose a loud pleased shriek, tried to headbutt his father and became very focused on Malfoy's shirt collar. A small smile started to pull at Malfoy's lips as he studied the baby.

"You good while I go shopping?"

Malfoy looked stunned. "I thought you'd stay."

"Do you want me to?" Harry asked doubtfully. "I just…if I'm honest, the idea of the manor is…I'm gonna need to build up to that." If ever allow it.

Malfoy nodded slowly. "I thought…I imagined you'd make this harder."

"Fuck you," Harry snapped. "I'll be ten minutes. Try not to torture anyone in front of him."

Xxx

He returned in eight minutes, too angry to be useful anywhere else. But when he came back, Malfoy was sat on the bench with Felix and was crying.

Shit.

He gave them another ten minutes.

Xxx

"No?" Harry asked as he hitched the baby up against his side again. "What do you mean no?"

Malfoy was staring out at the view from Felix's bedroom window and uncomfortably seemed to be close to tears again. "I can't," he said again, his voice wobbling.

"You're a fucking coward," Harry hissed. "You're just going to walk away from him?"

"How will this work?" Malfoy asked the rooftops of London. "My father is released this year. Will you let your son in a house where he lives? Or even to the manor? What about leaving him in my company, do you trust the people I socialise with?"

No. Harry drew in a breath. Absolutely not.

"You'll… eventually you'll stop me seeing him," Malfoy said, turning around and heading to the stairs. "Just beating you to it, Potter."

"When he asks," Harry said, staring furiously ahead, "Shall I just tell him that you decided he wasn't worth it?"

"Believe me, Potter," Malfoy hissed, "It's better for all concerned if that space on his birth certificate remains blank."

Harry remained rigid, not entirely trusting himself not to move and hex the bastard.

Xxx

As April came, Harry found himself furious with the world and barely letting his son leave his arms. Hermione came over and sat with him and he found himself laughing reluctantly when she unveiled that Rose was sat in a bunny onesie.

"Never tell Ron," she said, looking deeply ashamed of herself.

"Your secret's safe," he said, smiling and stroking a hand over Rose's hood covered hair. Felix eyed him up warily as if sensing it might soon be his fate too. "I could kill Malfoy," he hissed, lying back down on the floor and staring up at Hermione.

"You did come at this from a slightly unrealistic angle," Hermione said softly, "and I'm not saying he was right, Harry. But that's a lot to dump on him all of a sudden. And…what were you going to do? Have him meet Felix in parks until he was eighteen?"

"I sense you want me to say no," Harry sighed and Felix clambered onto him. "Fine. I just…the idea of Felix at Malfoy Manor is…"

"I get that," Hermione agreed. "And he won't leave it because of his other son. Who from what I gather is still sick. And uh…Ron got hold on the report from last year and was furious. I imagine that a consultant or a desk worker might get their hands on it."

"I think that might count as stalking," Harry mumbled and then laughed when Felix crawled onto his face. "Yes, kisses," he said, accepting his son's gentle headbutt.

"You've gone way past that," Hermione said, lifting Felix up and sitting him on her lap. "And you're bored, Harry. Admit it. I have maternity leave still, I can look after him if you go back on flexible hours."

Merlin, he was tempted.

Xxx

"Fine," was Robards sole contribution to the conversation. "We need someone to specialise in undoing wards or newly created curses. Take your pick."

Newly created curses seemed…fitting somehow.

"You will need to actually learn how to do that," Robards added.

"I'll figure it out."

Xxx

Spell-craft was actually kind of interesting once he started to look into it. He'd never considered how Snape had created his own curses or even how someone went about it. And the pregnancy meditation crap seemed to have some basic principles which he could use to his advantage.

Still, basic principles only got you so far. Sometimes, you just had to take a few risks.

"So…" Ron said, staring at the blackened remains of the seventh bedroom. "How long do you want us to look after Felix for?"

"Just tonight," Harry argued, staring at the smoking curtains. "I'll get the hang of this tonight if it kills me."

"Mm," Ron said. "And if it does?"

"Then tell my son I loved him."

Xxx

By the time Felix was almost eleven months old and Harry was twenty-four, he had some knowledge. And a basement lab to try things out in.

And he might have had a few mishaps. But never with Felix in the house and only one had landed him at the burrow because he refused to go anywhere near a medi-centre.

"I mean," Robards said with a very long sigh, "It'll do."

"Great. Can I access old case files to you know, get better at this?"

Robards made a movement as if to say 'get on with it'.

"As well as the ones with Malfoy's attack?"

Robards almost groaned into the desk. "Sweet Circe, please tell me this wasn't the reason you did this."

"It's not the only reason?"

Xxx

Harry sat in the auror's office and stared at the files that Ron couldn't bring home. Malfoy had been at the charity ball without his wife and couldn't remember anything from about dinner onwards. Astoria had meant to go, but hadn't. And, at just after midnight, Malfoy had been on the grounds of the Zabini residence and there was a used-up portkey that had taken him to a room just outside of Manchester where he had been held for four days.

It wasn't unheard of for auror's missions to not be discussed across the departments and Harry had taken two days off after the ball to hide from the press and to get roaringly drunk with his friends. But it seemed odd that no-one had mentioned it after or that he and Ron as standby staff hadn't been hauled in and doused with a sobering potion.

The three aurors that had been assigned the case surprised Harry too: Innis had been squeaky new at the time, and Carlson and Perkins were what Harry would charitably call job-worths. And the deputy that had assigned the case was Irene Matthews, a woman who had spoken most harshly at the trials.

Four days.

In those four days, Malfoy had been tortured. There was no other was to describe the medical records on file. Lingering effects of cruciatus, nerve damage, torn muscles, dehydration. It was like reading records on those who had been captured by the last dregs of Death Eaters a few years ago.

It was exactly like reading those reports, Harry realised.

No arrests. The details in the Prophet when he looked back, were scarce. The records from St Mungo's suggested that Malfoy had stayed there for a shorter time than he had in captivity. No follow up, no recommended mind healers. Nothing.

Case was listed as closed.

Xxx

It was tempting to go in, all guns blazing and start throwing around the epitaph 'Boy Who Lived to kill the Dark Lord' around, but-

But.

Harry sat on the floor in Grimmauld Palace, his research scattered around in untidy piles that Hermione unhelpfully tried to organise her way every time she came over, and watched his son chase a lime around the room.

Felix James Malfoy would have a very different life. The son of a well-known Death Eater, descended from the loudest, most bigoted family, how many would target him? Or refuse him help?

What had Malfoy seen when he'd come here? His mother's family home transformed into a place that most people associated with the Order of the Phoenix. A happy, safe and well-loved confident baby who feared nothing because he had no concept that he'd have to. A golden boy who was protected by the press and the ministry alike.

"Do you ever worry," Harry asked Neville quietly, "about what we'll pass on?"

"How do you mean?" Neville asked, equally quiet.

"I have no concept about boundaries for a child or what's safe," Harry said quietly. "I worry that he'll feel left out so I take him everywhere and feed him whenever he wants it. That's…I think about my childhood and I can figure out why. I…somewhere along the line developed a pathological fear of dealing with anything seriously or remotely talking about my feelings. I'm addicted to danger and let's face it, I'm probably the most dangerous thing for this kid."

Neville hummed at that, "Okay," he said. "I can…I'm terrified I'll have a kid as shy as I was. And I'm equally terrified of dealing with it as my family did."

"And Malfoy?" Harry asked. "Think we can all imagine what he'd be afraid of passing on to his kids."

"He's hardly innocent, Harry," Neville pointed out.

"No," Harry agreed. "But neither am I."

Xxx

Felix turned one and they had a birthday party. His son was delighted by the snitch wrapping paper and kept trying to pounce on the racing snitches. The baby was starting to take staggering steps around the room and would make demanding noises at whoever he picked as his target that minute to help.

"It's like watching Crufts," Harry said to Hermione who sniggered into Rose's hair.

"Dada," Felix whined, looking around for him. "Here." He pointed down at the floor by him and looked expectantly at Harry.

Jesus, he could sound like Malfoy when he wanted. "Come to Daddy then," he said, opening his arms and Felix eyed him up and then shrieked and toddled over on unsteady feet before falling head first halfway along. The kid glared down at the floor and then at Harry, frustrated tears welling up and Harry sighed, scooping him up and pressing a kiss to his smooth little cheek. "I know," he whispered. "You did so well."

Felix huffed again. "No."

"Oh," Arthur said, tugging gently at Felix's trainer covered foot, "of course he would learn that word."

Harry was gonna blame Malfoy for that one.

Xxx

The older Felix got, the more Harry loved him. Not that he hadn't adored the kid from about an hour after knowing he was coming, but he was becoming his own little person now. He would scribble all over paper and stick his tongue out as if he was creating an epic masterpiece. He was the loudest eater Harry had ever come across and would do pretty much anything for a raspberry. The blond hair was darkening into curls the colour of old gold and his face was showing more of Harry's features.

It was almost impossible to remember what life had been like before Felix had been born.

Xxx

"Okay," Harry said, placing the bracelet around his son's little wrist. "Shall we try this out?"

Felix stared at him earnestly. "Da," he announced happily.

Okay. This bit was a little…Harry picked up a bread knife and threw it at his son.

The effect was immediate. It felt like something was sucking his magic out through his eyes and he gasped and bowed his head over. He just about caught sight of the shield that sprung up around Felix and let out a breath.

And then reached for a pot to puke in.

Xxx

So it did need some refinement, but it was better than what he'd had before. He sat with the bracelet most nights after work and worked on the spell layers that he was putting in. And, as much as he had hated the idea a year or so ago, found himself meditating more and more to follow the flow of magic.

Which was what he was doing when Ginny turned up practically spitting feathers. "Lucius Malfoy has been released," she announced before throwing herself into his armchair. "Dean thinks I'm being dramatic."

"Dean sucks," Harry said on complete automatic since they'd broken up and she'd started to date him. "Malfoys suck. You not included," he said to the baby who was holding his stuffed turtle and absently chewing on it while he stared at the charm layers Harry was working with.

"He shouldn't be out," Ginny sighed. "He tried to kill me when I was eleven. He's only out because of-"

"Me?" Harry asked, putting the charms into stasis for a moment to look over at her. "I did speak for them at the trials."

"I get Draco Malfoy. I even get speaking for his mother-"

"And to do that, I had to speak for his father," Harry allowed. "You've seen the conditions?"

"No magic," Ginny said, shifting. "No wands, no casting. Pretty much house arrest and for the manor to be checked twice a month." She shook her head. "He needs to be in Azkaban."

"Think the family would agree," Harry offered. "But the ministry wants the excuse to check on the Malfoy family at regular intervals. So…no-one wins but them."

She was silent. "Thought you'd rant with me," she said a little mulish.

"Tempting," he said. "But I can come and see you after I next see him. We can get roaringly drunk and slag off the shithead that is the other father of my son."

Xxx

He was called in to work with Fiona McLewis to work with the new bindings for Lucius Malfoy. It was more of a learning experience for him, but on the bright side, it did require him to see the Malfoy family.

He was determined to see it as a bright side.

Malfoy…Draco, looked less than pleased by the situation as Harry checked the bindings as they waited for the aurors to apparate in with Lucius. "Why are you here again?" Malfoy asked.

Harry peered at him and waved his wand, lifting the layers so that he could double check them. "My job. Some of us have them. You know, to buy food and support children-"

"Do you need money?" Malfoy asked awkwardly, but quickly.

Harry shook his head. "There are vaults and properties and some sort of shares…" Harry shrugged because he had no idea what that meant. "I just…prefer earning it."

Malfoy looked away as if Harry had insulted him, or perhaps he had.

"How is he?" Malfoy asked quietly.

"Demanding," Harry said, staring at the spells. "He learned the word no a few months ago. That's been fun. But he walks and says words and that eyebrow raise thing is apparently genetic." Harry nodded at the spells and reduced them back into the bindings again. "Does your father know?"

"Mother told him," Malfoy said after a moment. "We…I would not have."

"Shit," Harry said, sitting back in the seat. "I've er…I've been working on something. Like this, but with protection charms instead. For Felix. So maybe…we might be able to have a practical discussion."

"Potter…that's so far down the list of reasons to-"

"He's your son." Harry folded his arms. "For better or worse, that's the truth. And yeah, maybe in our world, he'd be better off just being my son. But that's not the case. And let's be honest, how likely is it that no-one will ever find out?"

Malfoy said nothing.

Xxx

Lucius was as pleasant as ever. When Harry stepped up to double check the spells again once they'd been set, he studied Harry with those cold eyes, face turned into it's typical sneer. "Mr Potter," he said, chin raised as he looked down his nose at Harry, "I believe you've attempted to pollute my bloodline

Harry said nothing.

"How is the bastard whelp?"

Harry looked up. "I had Voldemort in my head for sixteen years. You wanna test the effect of that?"

He didn't know what his expression showed, but Lucius's gaze sharpened a little and his eyes flickered over Harry, a little more warily than he had been.

Xxx

"Potter?" Malfoy asked as Harry strode down the quiet hallway. "Potter!"

"Not now," Harry hissed and then barely restrained the urge to hex the wizard when Malfoy bundled them both into an empty meeting room, slamming the door behind him. "What part of not now-"

"So what? You just dangle that in front of me and then-"

"Withdraw it when your father refers to my son as a bastard whelp and an attempt to pollute the Malfoy line?"

Malfoy's face tightened and he stepped back, clearly furious. Then, unnervingly, started to laugh; a bitter and hollow sound that twisted out of him. "Of course," he hissed. He sat down, looking suddenly tired.

"We…another day," Harry offered, a little uncomfortable. "He just… I'd forgotten what he's like. Feel like I'm suddenly fifteen again."

Malfoy nodded in agreement and then swallowed looking unbearably nervous. "I don't want my son growing up with that," he said, so quietly that Harry could barely hear him. For a moment, Harry almost pointed out that there was no fucking way that Felix would, until he remembered that Malfoy had been particularly prolific. "Scorpius?" he asked, not entirely comfortable with the name.

Malfoy nodded again. "He's fragile. My father…he doesn't tolerate that."

"You could always remind him the terrible fate that will await the Malfoy line should Scorpius refuse. Can you imagine his face with a half blood ruling the manor?"

Malfoy almost (almost) managed a smile. "All the more reason he'll want to push Scorpius to be strong."

"You won't let it happen," Harry said gently.

Malfoy cupped his hands over his mouth.

"Look, Malfoy…it's a lot. I get that. So…if you need a few months to get this sorted…Felix won't know. He's one. Or we can work something out now, but…I just…I get that life is…tricky."

Malfoy glanced over and then nodded slowly. "Felix has you," he said sounding embarrassed. "Scorpius only has-"

"Okay," Harry said. "We'll talk about it in the New Year. And…the wards around the house will accept you. If you need a peek."

Malfoy blinked.

"At Felix, not at…" Harry shifted. "You know."

Xxx

Felix's second Christmas was louder and there was another baby at the table and Dean and Ginny were arguing about some minute detail of their wedding and both seemed to think Harry was a sounding board. He agreed with Ginny on principle. After all, she'd once had sex with him. They had a bond.

And, that night, Malfoy snuck in through the wards and rocked Felix to sleep leaving behind a Serpopard stuffed toy which looked beautiful and was actually oddly cute.

Felix guarded it from Rose like it was a golden ticket to a chocolate factory.

"What shall we call it?" Harry asked Felix.

"Hedhog," Felix answered, pulling at the tail.

The kid was so strange sometimes.

Xxx

The next time Harry saw Malfoy was at the end of January when Felix was standing by the glass door in the kitchen and slamming his hands on it.

"Snow," the baby was demanding.

Malfoy looked bewildered by the scene of Harry cooking, the TV on and Felix having the start of an epic temper tantrum because the weather did not bow to his every whim. "What…is he okay?" Malfoy asked, stepping close.

"It isn't snowing and Felix hasn't grasped that the weather does not respond to his every want," Harry said, chopping through the potato in front of him.

Malfoy glanced at the sky through the glass and bent down to their son, speaking softly and pointing up with one hand as his wand appeared in the other.

"You'll create a monster," Harry warned. "And let's face it, any mix of you and me is halfway there already."

But it was too late. Thick flurries of snow started to fall and Felix let out a delighted shriek.

Spoilt.

But he couldn't help the smile that formed at the sight of Malfoy standing with Felix in his arms, the pair of them staring out of the window at the snow and it was perhaps the first time that he'd seen them both with similar expressions on their faces. Felix leaned into Malfoy's chin, Felix's hair much darker than Malfoy's and Harry felt a stir of…something.

He looked down at the stew, trying to refocus. "Bad day?" he heard himself asked and inwardly rolled his eyes at himself.

"My father is continuously making comments about….my attack. Weakness breeds weakness."

"He's a dick," Harry said to the stew.

Malfoy turned. "You shouldn't swear. He'll start to pick it up soon," he warned, apparently unable to take his eyes off of Felix. "But yes." Again, he almost smiled.

One day, perhaps Malfoy would smile properly.

Xxx

Life picked up a little quicker suddenly. A year of studying and learning and Robards was starting to put him back into use again, investigating the remains of spells the standard auror couldn't identify. Hermione was pregnant again and worked from home quite often, examining laws and lobbying for them to be changed and she was good enough at what she did that she could take most of the work home and watch two precocious children. Molly helped where she could and, on weekends, Neville or Ginny chipped in too. And Harry's hours were flexible – there would be weeks with nothing and he'd have Rose and Felix together and then a week where he'd be barely home (or need to experiment at home which was never a good place for a baby to be).

Once a month or so, Malfoy would appear around dinner time and look after Felix in the evening. Once he came around without anyone being there and left a note, but otherwise they managed. Harry sort of left the two alone whenever Malfoy came over.

It wasn't as if Malfoy was coming to spend time with him. They'd talk briefly, sometimes more nights than others it would give Malfoy a place to sound roughly 0.5% of his grievances with his father, and even that was enough to make Harry hate Lucius Malfoy even more.

And then it was May and Harry was at home nursing a broken hand and a bruised collarbone and Felix did not understand why that meant he couldn't be carried around. And Ron was in with the healers from a miscast spell and Hermione was towards the end of her pregnancy and fuck it all, Malfoy could damn well pull his weight.

Harry sent Kreacher because there was no way he was sticking his head in the floo to Malfoy Manor when Lucius was wandering around, bound magic or no.

Malfoy didn't come.

At least, not that night.

"Potter," he announced the next night. "I am not free babysitting-" he trailed off at the sight of Harry.

"For the love of God, just put him to bed," Harry pleaded, trying to soothe their son who was sobbing his little heart out, far too confused by what was going on. "Please, Draco."

Perhaps it was the use of his first name, perhaps it was Felix's exhausted hiccups, but Malfoy swooped in instantly, taking Felix from Harry which made their son wail in a second wave of tears and reach for Harry again.

"Shush," Malfoy said, rubbing Felix's back and rocking him gently. "It's okay, it's okay," he whispered over and over again. "See, he's still here," he added, turning so Felix's tired green eyes could fix on Harry again who almost collapsed into the chair next to him. "I'll get him calm and then take him up," Malfoy said, a little hesitantly.

Harry nodded at the logic, exhausted. And when a cool hand touched his chin, he found himself looking up in surprise as Malfoy tilted his face to study the bruises on his face.

"What happened?" Malfoy asked tightly.

"Some…" Harry hesitated and then sighed. "Some wannabe Death Eaters in Sussex. They designed a new curse. It's like a targeted explosion. We had to get close enough to study the spell to find a counter. Ron took more of it than I did."

Malfoy continued to rock Felix in one arm as his grey gaze roamed down and he frowned at Harry's bumpy shoulder and bandaged hand. "There should be a spell to heal," he huffed.

"Not wise with new spells like this. It's the pressure of it. They were worried about destabilisation of the bones. So…we're waiting for the healers to do their trials. I just…right hand is injured and left shoulder. It's not given me too many options with Felix."

Malfoy opened his mouth and then winced. "Your house elf wasn't…he didn't say-"

"He hates me. I cook and won't let him be Felix's personal slave. Which is an insult because, in his eyes, Felix is a way better master than I am."

"I'll deal with him," Malfoy said and then shook his head. "I know how."

"This gonna be like Dobby part two?" Harry snapped.

"I can get him loyal without…without my father's methods."

Too tired to care, Harry nodded and then reached out with his good hand and shit shoulder to run a hand through Felix's sweat-soaked hair. "Go to sleep, baby," he suggested. "You should have gone down hours ago."

Malfoy said nothing but took him up and Harry could hear Felix start to grizzle on the way up to his room and he had to be the worst parent on the planet because he couldn't bring himself to follow them up and instead trusted that Malfoy would get him to settle eventually.

He was so exhausted, he didn't even realise that Malfoy had come back down until he felt a blanket settle over him and then his hand being examined gently. "He all right?" Harry asked, not opening his eyes.

"He's protective," Malfoy said gently. "Like father like son."

"Mm," Harry mumbled and then cracked open an eye. "What are you doing?"

"Checking your hand. I…Scorpius has…I'm better at healing spells than I used to be." He unwrapped the bandages and then hissed. "Merlin's tooth, Harry, why aren't you with the healers?"

"Hate healers," Harry said, shifting a little and trying not to look at the pulpy mess that was his hand. "They said they'd have answers tomorrow."

"They'd better," Malfoy muttered. "You should…you shouldn't sleep down here."

"I always sleep down here," Harry said, amused. "I can't sleep upstairs."

Malfoy looked puzzled, but carefully started to re-wrap the bandages. "You're an idiot," he whispered, but there was almost a fondness to his words.

"Yeah," Harry smiled, closing his eyes. "But that's hardly news, is it?"

"No," Malfoy agreed and then he leaned forward and then sighed, his breath warm on Harry's forehead. "Get some sleep, Potter."

Xxx

In the morning, Malfoy was still there, but he must have gone home at some point because, in his arms, there was another child while Felix was snuggled up with Harry when he woke.

"I need to go," Malfoy said, his eldest son asleep in his arms as Harry stirred and curled around Felix.

"What time is it?" Harry asked.

"Five," Malfoy replied. "Felix woke up and then screamed half the house down until I brought him here."

"Belligerent git," Harry mumbled, smiling into his son's hair. "Told you, demanding like you."

Malfoy snorted. "As contrary as you," he corrected. "I'll be back in the evening. We…I…there are appointments we need to keep."

Harry waved him off and Felix wriggled around. "Aw, kid, I'm getting pregnancy flashbacks. Just pick a spot," Harry huffed at the baby. Then watched as Malfoy bent close to press a kiss to Felix's little hand and stood, disappearing in a whirl of fire.

Xxx

Draco must have come back after Harry had fallen asleep on the floor with Felix because he woke up on the sofa with a note floating above his face saying that Felix was in his cot and there was a blanket and pillow.

And Kreacher followed the spirit of every order Harry ever gave for the rest of his life.

Xxx

Malfoy came around once more and then left the country for four months when the ministry finally allowed him to visit West Africa to explore some less common healing techniques for Scorpius. He sat in Harry's kitchen looking deeply guilty and holding Felix as if he might just apparate away with the boy.

Probably the best thing for him to get out of Malfoy Manor and out of the country. The agreement prohibited Malfoy being able to portkey back and to request a floo set-up would have highlighted Malfoy's relationship to Felix.

"Just…avoid getting killed," Malfoy suggested as his parting shot.

"Always do," Harry had grinned.

Xxx

Hermione gave birth to Hugh in July (which was obviously the best month to do so) and Harry found himself somewhat bewildered as to how big Felix had got in comparison as a child approaching his second birthday. His little god-son was cute and had a sticking up tuft of red hair which Harry found hilarious.

Felix's birthday came and went and this time had he and Rose running around like lunatics. Halloween raced by and Harry found himself sitting down with a bunch of Hogwarts students trying to explain to them why trying to create seer spells could potentially melt your brains out and then trying to be sympathetic to their complaints about Trelawny.

They did fireworks night which Ron found baffling and Felix stood solemnly with his little sparkler in his hands and seemed to think it might be his first wand if the way he tried to wave it around was anything to go by. And then it was Christmas and Felix was eating Christmas dinner for the first time and seemed to think it was hilarious to ping brussel sprouts across the room and George was not helpful in encouraging him.

"Hypocrite," Charlie laughed when Harry started to tell his son off.

Xxx

Malfoy was back, but Harry hadn't heard anything and he kind of didn't expect to because he imagined there was an epic power struggle going on at Malfoy Manor. Besides, he and Felix had settled into comfortable evenings where the baby…toddler, Harry supposed, would spend the evening drawing while Harry worked either creating new spells or trying to work out new ones that had been formed. They'd often have the TV on in the background and sometimes Felix would wander over and climb on Harry to watch what he was doing.

"We're good, aren't we?" Harry asked his son one evening. "Just you and me?"

"Yes," Felix said, leaning in a little sulkily. "Just want Daddy."

Xxx

He got his own office in the ministry and no-one cared finally that he wasn't wearing his auror robes and one kid said Spell Crafter Potter before the Boy who Lived and that was possibly the best thing Harry had ever heard. Ron got the lead on a high-profile case and Hermione pushed through a law about muggle children's home life and the ministry's interference.

"Because," Hermione said when Harry asked her about it quietly, "adults should never be encouraged to look the other way when a child comes to Hogwarts half starved and with locks on his bedroom door. No matter the circumstances."

He'd appreciated the sentiment and he wondered how many years it would take before he could talk to her about how much that meant to him.

Xxx

Malfoy came over in March and Felix was drawing…somewhere. On the walls which Harry couldn't give a damn about because he lived in about six rooms and the rest, as far as he was concerned could be blown up or scribbled over by a two years old.

But Malfoy looked better, even as he stood, staring down at their son who stood staring back with a lifted chin and a crayon in hand, clearly daring Malfoy to say something.

Quietly, Harry watched, curious as to what Malfoy's reaction would be. But, after a sigh, Malfoy bent down and studied Felix. "You've grown," he said gently, looking at the drawing on the wall. "Are you allowed to do this?"

"Yes," Felix said, a little argumentative in tone. "My walls. Daddy doesn't like them."

Malfoy rolled his eyes and crouched. "Do you remember who I am?" he asked.

Felix nodded. "Daddy says you're my father," he said, swinging from side to side a little bit. "Rose has a mummy and Daddy and I have Daddy and you and Grandma Molly and Grandpa Arfa and-"

Malfoy nodded and reached to stroke a stray strand of hair out of Felix's eyes. "What are you drawing?" he asked.

"Drawing," Felix told him after a bit as if Malfoy was the stupid one. And then turned back to it.

Xxx

"How's Scorpius?" Harry asked.

"Better," Malfoy said emphatically. "So much better. There's still a way to go, but…he's getting there. Felix seems-"

"Independent," Harry offered. "That's Molly's current euphemism. We used the term 'spirited' for a while."

Malfoy actually snorted. "No-one will tell that boy what to do, will they?"

"I pity anyone who tries," Harry said as he wrapped a hand around his mug of tea. "Which I guess will be the future you and me."

Malfoy sighed at that, but said nothing.

Xxx

They (without speaking about it, thank god) fell into a strange sort of routine where Malfoy started to come over on some Saturdays and would spend the day with Felix in the house while Harry went out and felt that odd mix of sheer relief and continual certainty that he'd forgotten to take his son with him and remembered that he was still in his twenties and could have fun.

And then one day, a little boy with very pale hair and big grey eyes was with Malfoy and looked at Felix like he was the most amazing thing he'd ever seen. Felix, graciously, seemed to allow this worship and spent (as far as Harry could tell) the afternoon bossing him around.

They painted and played with stuffed toys that Malfoy enchanted to make noises which had both boys screeching with delight, though Scorpius had looked nervous about making such noises at first.

It was enough to make Harry debate not going out. But then they were Malfoy's sons, he supposed. The man should probably have some time with both of them and without feeling like he was being watched.

Xxx

It was hard to say when they started to fully relax around each other. But Malfoy stopped stepping through the floo about ten minutes after Harry came back and they'd have dinner together, the four of them every so often which by then Scorpius thought was fascinating and he'd sit quietly on Harry's hip, watching everything go into the pot, or would sit in the kitchen counter, solemnly handing Harry ingredients.

Harry called him chief taster and Scorpius looked so delighted that Harry had felt his heart melt towards the little boy.

And apparently, it was Malfoy that had been the artist, because he and Felix could sit quietly together and he would correct Felix's strokes with a pencil or paint and it was the only time that Felix would sit quietly unless someone was reading to him or Harry was working on weaving magic.

"This okay?" Harry asked once as he let Scorpius go nuts with a cookie cutter.

Malfoy just nodded.

Xxx

"It's Daddy's birthday," Scorpius whispered to Harry quietly one Saturday, just as he was about to leave.

Ah. "Did you get him a present?" Harry asked, crouching down to the three-year-old.

"Grand-mere did," Scorpius said. "I don't think he liked it that much."

"I'll have a hunt," Harry promised him, mentally wondering if 'Felix' should have gotten Malfoy something too, though that could potentially open up the awkward fact that Malfoy hadn't once acknowledged Felix's birthdays.

He came back with some Turkish Delight (because he remembered Malfoy once scoffing that down at school) and a book about the principles of healing and a card and gave the book to Scorpius and the chocolate to Felix (who had to be told about ten times it wasn't for him) and then let the boys scribble god knew what in the card…it almost looked like their names? And then let them give Malfoy the things after dinner.

The three of them sat, sharing the chocolate (which Felix promptly spat out in the height of class) and looking through the book as Malfoy quietly explained some of the pictures to the boys and pointed to their toes or hands which made both boys giggle.

"Potter?" Malfoy said as Scorpius and Felix sat on their bellies watching charmed stuffed toys play with each other.

"Mm?"

Malfoy kissed him. A peck. Brief but sweet.

And Harry kissed him back.

Xxx

"So you kissed and still haven't spoken about it?" Hermione sighed as she sat with Hugh at the baby's first birthday party.

"We're men," Harry said absently, "We don't talk. Fuck, Hermione, it's me and Malfoy. We never talk about that stuff. We barely discussed the night that Felix was conceived."

"Possibly because one of you has no memory of it," Hermione muttered. "Harry…talk to him."

Oh, what did she know?

Xxx

The week before Harry's birthday, Scorpius fell asleep with Felix, the two of them curled together like puppies in a litter and Malfoy tentatively asked if he could stay.

"Is that…allowed? With the ministry?" Harry asked, an odd wave of nerves crashing over him because, shit he was going to have to explain something embarrassing.

"Yes," Malfoy said, eyes narrowing. "One night away from the manor is acceptable."

"Okay…So I haven't slept in a bed for about…nine years?" Harry said, uncomfortable. "But uh…you can. Or you can sleep where I do, but-"

Malfoy frowned, "Where do you sleep?"

Xxx

Malfoy passed sleeping on the sofa and seemed…not that surprised by the information, but more annoyed with himself for not working it out. He suggested Harry try the bed with him.

Harry lasted an hour. Malfoy went three hours before his magic surged and rocked around from a nightmare that he seemed to think he'd gotten away with due to his own spells that might have fooled someone who hadn't spent almost four years monitoring magic in its basic form.

They were both so fucked up.

Xxx

Turning twenty-seven was interesting. Ron got Harry so drunk that for all he knew he conceived another child a la Malfoy style and he woke up on the floor of Molly and Arthur's house with Ron snoring next to him and Ginny on the armchair and Hermione glaring at a cup of coffee with her head in her hands and George was in the garden of all places and Neville in the toilet throwing up.

"You're getting married in three days," Harry mumbled to Ginny as they all dragged themselves to the table for breakfast where Molly seemed to be taking deep pleasure in making as many loud noises as she could.

"So?"

"Your tongue is blue," Harry explained. "Hope it washes out by then."

Xxx

Malfoy seemed…uncomfortable the following weekend and the reason for it became clear when Scorpius shyly offered Harry a little present and a hand-made card that Malfoy had definitely had a hand in.

The present was a research paper and Harry blinked at it in confusion, but interest. It wasn't quite what he was doing, but the fields were linked…

That was until he realised he was cited in it a number of times and his work was highly praised within the paper.

He kissed Malfoy in the hallway, this kiss more heated and dangerous and wildly satisfying.

"I…" Malfoy pulled away. "I was going to…Felix said he'd already given you a present. So…" he looked down at his robes and withdrew a neatly packaged second gift. There were a pair of beautiful dragon hide gloves to protect his hands when experimenting but to allow the flow of magic somewhat so was to not interfere with what he was doing.

Wearing them, he pulled Malfoy in for a kiss and felt the man laugh against his lips.

Xxx

They went at glacial speed, even though every weekend they basically acted like a family. Malfoy could only spend one night away from the manor unless he petitioned and more often than not Sunday afternoon was inspection day so Malfoy and Scorpius would leave at about midday and Scorpius started to sulk about it. But Harry would go to sleep with Malfoy in the bed and get about an hour (once he got three and was stunned) before heading back downstairs. Malfoy never slept without a nightmare and took potions every night before sleep which was a worrying combination.

They kissed but Malfoy disliked having his clothes removed and would pull away mid-way through the process and Harry couldn't quite find a way to ask.

Xxx

Ron bought Felix a baby broom. It hovered at maximum a foot off the ground which Felix quickly discovered just meant the nearest surface and would climb onto the table to sit on the broom and then shriek with laughter when he suddenly descended back down to the floor.

"Karma," Hermione said when Harry nearly had a heart attack the first time it happened, "Is a bitch."

Xxx

It infuriated Harry that Malfoy chose that weekend not to come and his sobbing son didn't quite understand why Malfoy and Scorpius hadn't been by and Harry didn't have a reason to offer until the following weekend.

Malfoy's back was a mess.

The boys played in the living room while Harry stared at Malfoy's back that looked like cracked pea pods had burst; deep grooves could be seen and they were healing but no-where near as quick as they should have been. And, in between the mess, there were old scars, faded, white and twisting along the lines of strong shoulders and defined muscles.

"The house elves are still loyal to him," Malfoy said staring at nothing.

"You are an adult in the house-" Harry started.

"My son is not."

Xxx

They argued. Malfoy accused Harry of wanting to play saviour and Harry accused him of wanting to be the martyr. But caught between pureblood law and the ministry's terms, Malfoy was, essentially helpless.

It took them an hour to curl up together which was a miracle by Harry's reckoning. "And the other scars?" he asked quietly, "are they from-"

"The war," Malfoy replied absently. "A bit before and a bit after."

"But-"

"Do you want to talk about why you can't sleep in a bed or why every single cupboard in this house had its walls blown off?"

"Kreacher has a big mouth," Harry muttered, shifting so he was staring at the walls, Malfoy still on his side and staring at Harry. "And no."

"Then leave it alone."

Xxx

Yeah, like that was gonna happen. But it was far too complicated for Harry to pretend he could understand, so he went to Hermione.

Who sighed.

"Harry," she said quietly, "you remove the restrictions on Malfoy, you give power to Lucius. And the exact same happens across the board for all of the Death Eaters."

"It's not right," Harry said, shaking his head. "We were all children. We were all used by the adults. And now our generations still suffers at their hands."

"Harry…" Hermione leaned over, "My voice isn't strong enough for this and while yours might be…you have to admit a certain amount of bias. I'm not sure…would people hear Harry Potter the saviour speaking or Harry the father of Malfoy's son talking?"

He stormed out about five minutes later. Furious.

Xxx

"My relatives kept me in a cupboard."

Malfoy, who had been lying on the sofa reading and letting Harry put the boys to bed, blinked and frowned at him. "Why?"

Fuck, he could do this. "Because my cousin needed a second bedroom and that was I was closer to the kitchen so I could basically be their house-elf."

Malfoy continued to look blank and then something crossed his face and he looked out the door and then sucked in a breath, "I thought…I thought it was something to do with being on the run and then being in the dungeons."

"Didn't help," Harry said and then sat on the arm of the chair opposite, playing with the cuff of his sleeve. "But uh…" he let out a breath and was surprised that he had absolutely no precedent for this conversation because he'd never ever had it with anyone. "I think…I'm pretty sure Dumbledore basically threatened them to keep me there or emotionally blackmailed. Either way…they kept me in the cupboard under the stairs and I'd cook and do the housework or gardening and my cousin had this game called Harry hunting which was…what it sounds like. And they would make sure I knew they thought I was a burden and a freak, but going the cupboard was safe? I think. And Hogwarts but then the tower was smashed in the battle so that seemed less safe. And we were in the tent and open spaces freak me out a bit now all the bedrooms here and the beds are huge. The sofa is…I dunno. It makes no sense."

He couldn't look up and there was a stir of panic because it wasn't that bad, was it? Malfoy seemed to have been physically beaten while Harry had just been ignored. And it was stupid. Malfoy would probably just nod and-

A hand took the one that was fiddling with the sleeve and Malfoy was kneeling in front of him, grey eyes softer than Harry had ever seen them.

"Harry-"

"Think I'm at a limit," Harry whispered. "For today."

Malfoy said nothing but his hand slid to hold Harry's wrist, thumb brushing over the back of his arm. Then his other hand reached for Harry's chin and tilted his mouth gently to Malfoy's lips.

"Plus," Harry said as they pulled apart. "I beat you. To you know. Talking."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Come on, Harry. I have an idea."

Xxx

That night, Malfoy spooned up behind him, one hand on one of Harry's wrists and Harry felt completely surrounded by him which should have terrified him, but actually meant he fell asleep and didn't wake up until the sun came streaming through the curtains and Malfoy was gently trying to sneak away.

"Malfoy?"

"Draco," Malfoy chided. "We have a son together and we've been doing this for nearly five months. Draco."

"This?" Harry asked, turning to him and smiling at the sight of Malfoy sleep-rumpled and looking deliciously touchable.

"Dating," Malfoy said, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. "Being together."

"Six months and you get a first name," Harry said with a sniff, rolling back into the pillow.

Malfoy laughed and gently tapped Harry's arse as he left the room to deal with what Harry later found out was a frankly baffled Felix who was stalking living areas and looking under rugs for Harry.

Xxx

Christmas came on Saturday which was a relief and Harry spent his first Christmas in his own house with Malfoy…Draco… (merlin that was strange) Scorpius and Felix. The boys were in awe at the Christmas tree that Malfoy spelled and Malfoy capitulated to watching a Christmas film all the while muttering under his breath about muggle inconsistencies which Harry took offence at and then softened when he realised it wasn't that different to Ron's occasional ignorance when it came to muggles.

They roasted chestnuts and Malfoy charmed snow in the garden for them to play with and Harry watched them all from the kitchen as he made hot chocolate.

He would not lose this.

Xxx

He would have been a Slytherin, Harry thought with a frown as he sat down on a Thursday night and started to think it through. Albus Dumbledore had been able to sway the wizarding world, but even he had struggled.

In January, he offered to teach the basic of magical crafting theory to sixth and seventh years once a week and did some guided magical meditation with some of the younger students. He chatted to the teachers and asked about the division between purebloods and others, explored how Slytherin students were treated and mentioned off hand to one nervous looking little girl that Slytherin had been where the hat had wanted to sort him.

February, he asked to examine the wards around the properties of well-know death eaters' families. Parkinson had a baby now and regarded him with deep suspicion, MacNair had left a son and daughter behind who looked exhausted and frail having being raised by their grandparents. The more he went and saw, the more he felt his heart sink.

By April, he realised with horror that he'd have to do Malfoy Manor as well.

"So," he said, nervously to Draco that Saturday night. "Um…I'll see you on Monday."

Draco had been drawing the boys absently and paused, fair eyebrows drawing together. "How are you planning on doing that?"

"I'm err…examining the bindings and wards that the ministry set up-"

Draco actually hissed and sat up, tossing the drawing away from him. "Are you fucking kidding me?" he snarled and Harry stepped back in shock. "No."

"You can't just say no," Harry started to protest.

Draco stopped and then shook his head. "Yeah, true. Can't say no to anything these days, can I?"

He left Scorpius behind when he went home and Harry spent the night on the sofa, fuming.

Xxx

"Harry," Scorpius shrieked as Harry walked through the double doors the following day. He ducked down to scoop the boy up and smiled at the four-year-old.

"Hello trouble," he said gently, hitching Scorpius onto his hip. "How are you?"

"Is Felix here?" Scorpius asked, peering behind Harry.

"He'd better not be," Draco said, standing on the stairs, arms folded and looking every inch the Lord of the Manor. "Make this quick," he took a breath as if to say Harry's name and then seemed to think it was just better to say nothing.

Xxx

Harry was working on the gates when Lucius found him.

"Ah," Lucius purred, "How lovely to see what my son sees in his whore."

Harry drew in a breath and turned, standing from where he'd been bent over. "Really?" he asked. "What do you possibly think you can gain from this?"

He refused to move when Lucius came close to him and it was deeply unsettling to pick out Draco's features in Lucius' face. "Does the offer extend to the entire Malfoy line?" Lucius asked. "I find myself terribly bored these days."

"Lucius," Harry said, feeling a strange smile appear on his face, "you're not lusting over a half breed, are you?"

There was an annoyed twitch and Harry felt some small measure of relief because he was pretty sure that Lucius had just been trying to scare him.

"I am not fifteen," Harry said, stepping forward again. "And I am not helpless. And if I killed you right here, there isn't a soul in the world who would lock me up for it. I'd probably get thank you gifts. So you consider that currently, the only thing keeping you alive and out of prison, is me."

"And I suggest you consider that I am still Lord Malfoy and my family is mine to do with as I please," Lucius sneered. "And that if you were going to kill me, if you could, you already would have." He smiled as he stepped back, the picture of charm. "Do wish Draco a pleasant evening."

As he retreated, Harry felt something…icy crash over him and for a moment, he curled his fist, half wishing that he was curling it around Lucius's black heart and that he could-

His hand closed over wood and he stared down in horror at the elder wand that had, somehow, reconstituted in his hands.

Oh shit.

Xxx

Draco stood by the main fireplace, his back to the door when Harry came in from the grounds, still shaking with anger and worry. The room was all marble and ice white furnishings and looked so cold that Harry had a strange urge to drag paint around the whole room.

"What did you do?" Draco asked, not looking at him.

"Uh…" Harry stared down at the wand in his hand. "You might want to avoid your father-"

He trailed off when Draco turned around and stared, feeling something unhook in his chest at the sight of Draco's cheek that had quite clearly been cut by Lucius' heavy ring in what had to have been a vicious backhand. "Really?" Draco asked, venom dripping from the word.

The words fled from Harry's lips and he stared in horror, stepping forward to reach out to Draco who take a deliberate step back, eyes furious. "I told you to leave it alone," he hissed.

The wand in Harry's hand shook, vibrating with his desperation to do something, anything.

"Was it worth it?" Draco sneered.

No. Shaking his head, Harry looked down at the marble floor that was so polished he could almost meet his own gaze.

"Get out," Draco demanded and walked past him without a second look.

Xxx

That night, Harry sat in his son's room, staring at the child who hugged at his pillow and whose hair stuck up like a zebra's mane. Lucius could live for years and if anything happened to Draco or Scorpius…

Jesus, if anything happened to Draco then Harry would be absolutely unable to protect Scorpius. And what? Was he just meant to let Lucius attack Draco whenever he wanted, knowing full well that Draco wouldn't deflect it because it might just mean that he'd offer up Scorpius instead.

He leaned his head back against the wall and thought about Dumbledore. The man who had held on so tightly to his morals and failed so many. About Snape who had never had any morals and who had done what had to be done. At Draco who had pretty much had every way blocked to him because of his family and his up-bringing.

Then he twirled the wand in his hand.

Xxx

Thankfully, Draco still turned up on Saturday, but Scorpius was subdued and even Felix seemed to pick up on what was happening (though his version of trying to cheer people up involved smuggling Scorpius chocolate and nobly giving away Hedhog for the day). Draco sat uncomfortably on the floor, suggested Harry go out and generally stilled seemed livid with him.

"Is Dad mad at you?" Felix asked quietly later on, holding on to Harry's jeans and pushing into his leg.

Sighing, Harry picked up his son and lifted him onto the counter top, looking into those wide green eyes and pressed his head to the boy's. "Yes," he said after a moment, pulling away. "But that's because I deserve it."

"Did you say sorry?"

Harry wasn't sure it was that simple, if only because Draco was more than capable at not hearing things he didn't want to listen to. "Sort of," he said after a moment, turning back to the pasta sauce. "It's complicated."

"What did you do?"

"I…made someone angry. They took it out on…Dad." Wait…when had Draco become Dad? Harry usually used father…

Draco called Lucius father…maybe that was an unwise way to refer to him…

They really did need to start having a few serious conversations.

"You shouldn't make people angry," Felix said and Harry resisted the urge to snort because he was sure the boy was re-using the exact same thing he himself had said to Felix three weeks ago. "What did you say?"

I threatened to kill your grandfather for trying to intimidate me.

"I am not giving you ideas," he said instead to his son and dipped a spoon into the sauce. "What do you think?"

Felix obediently opened his mouth, swallowed and popped his lips before peering at the red sauce. "Needs more green stuff," he ordered.

"Basil," Harry asked, reaching for a few leaves and letting Felix smell it. His son shrugged and then nodded when he saw the torn-up leaves in the sauce, apparently judging the sauce by look rather than taste. Then his son held up his hands demandingly and Draco was there, lifting him up gingerly and placing him down on the floor. "Help your brother pack away," Draco suggested before rising stiffly once more.

Harry said nothing, but turned down the sauce and waited. "For what it's worth," he said when he listened to silence for almost a few minutes. "I am sorry."

Draco leaned his hip on the side, arms folded and Harry had an overwhelming urge to kiss him or hold him or just generally wipe away the troubled look on the man's face. "Do not come over again," he said after a moment. "You have no idea how to play this game."

Slowly, Harry nodded and turned back to the sauce.

"Merlin, Potter…" Draco sighed, "You acting like a kicked crup is even more annoying." He stepped forward a little closer. "What did you even say to him?"

God. "I…threatened to kill him?"

Draco let out a bark of laughter that sounded more like surprise than anything else. "Are you serious?" he asked, stunned. "Why?"

"He was trying to…I dunno. Make me cower or…" it seemed petty now, "take a step back."

Bizarrely, Draco seemed to find that funny and pressed a head into Harry's shoulder. "The next time you say anything about our son being independent or spirited or a contentious little shit, please remember this conversation."

"Mm," Harry said, reaching to taste the sauce then closed his eyes. "I thought you were gonna be so mad with me."

"I was," Draco admitted. "And believe me Potter, I have had a shit week because of you. But…" he pressed a kiss to Harry's ear. "It was inevitable. It's why I'd rather you just avoided the manor. You are who you are."

"Do you need healing?" Harry asked quietly.

Draco pulled away and then took the spoon. "Needs more basil," he decided.

Xxx

They went to bed together as they usually did, Draco spooning around Harry and it was nice to be in abed for the first time in two weeks, but Harry found he couldn't drift off.

"I would," he said to the wall. "If you wanted me to, if you could accept it. I'd kill him."

Draco's arms tightened around him. "What did he say?"

"I don't give a shit about what he said; he hurt you," Harry whispered.

Draco sighed. "Even you can't go around killing people. Especially you," he said, pressing a kiss to Harry's neck.

Especially you?

Rolling over, Harry turned and glared down at him. "Meaning?"

Draco groaned and moved as if to move onto his back and then seemed to think better of it. "The golden boy," he said after a moment.

"Like fuck that's what you meant."

Draco looked baffled. "What?"

Harry threw himself out of bed and started to pace, vaguely aware that Draco was slowly sitting up and watching him in the gloom of the night.

"Harry," Draco started to say. "I am tired. Can we do this another-"

"You know, don't you," Harry said, whirling around. "What I was?"

"A fucking idiot?" Draco snapped.

"Voldemort's horocrux?"

Draco froze.

"That's what you mean isn't it? I had him in me for years and everyone's just waiting for me to-"

"A horocrux?" Draco whispered.

"Don't even. Your father knew-"

"Harry," Draco said, getting out of bed with more speed than he probably should. "Harry, stop," he hissed, catching hold of him. "I just meant that you were better than that," he said, cupping Harry's face. "You have so much further to fall."

Oh. Staring at Draco's grey eyes, Harry slumped forward.

"My father knew?" Draco asked quietly.

"He…I dunno. He didn't seem to surprised when I mentioned it. He must have worked it out." Harry took a deep breath in. "Were you drugged? When we…when Felix was…had you been drugged by that point?"

Draco pulled away. "How does that have anything to do with-"

"I just…did I force you? Is this?"

"Harry," Draco groaned. "Have you even slept this week?"

"Have you?"

"Yes. Because I took potions," Draco sighed. "And you really are such an idiot. Do you even know what potion I was given?"

"No."

"It…it enhances memories. So what followed was…is crystal clear. But to do that…it's like writing on one side of parchment with pencil and then writing with ink on the other side. It overwhelms the others. Whatever we did…I'd say I was more of sound mind than you were.

Oh thank god.

He hadn't been aware of how long he'd carried that tension around with him. "What did he do?" Harry asked.

"I told you, the house elves obey him," Draco said slowly. "He lost interest after a while. I…" he sighed and then moved to undo the shirt he was wearing. His chest was firm and lightly scarred and Harry reached out for the silvered lines on the lower chest from his own spell back when they'd been teenagers.

There were a few lines from a whip mark that had curled around Draco's torso and Harry walked around Draco slowly frowning and the mess that was there. Again. The wounds from last time were healed but the scars were ropey underneath the latest beating and Draco's muscles jerked and jolted as Harry watched.

"Cruciatus?"

"No," Draco said. "Those are illegal. I mean, he possibly could get them to do it, but he'd hardly waste such a thing on me."

"You're…your muscles are flexing."

Draco turned his head to nuzzle at Harry's hair. "That's you," he said sounding a little amused. His nose touched Harry's cheek and then his lips found Harry's. "Anything else?"

"You are much more together than you should be," Harry sighed into his lips.

"I have you," Draco whispered. "And as infuriatingly mule-headed as you are, you help."

Xxx

Scorpius was in tears at the idea of going back to the manor which made Felix throw a temper tantrum at the fact he was leaving and Harry found himself sitting on the floor with his son, rocking him back and forth as Draco knelt in front of them, Scorpius snuggled into his neck having almost exhausted himself.

"Next week," Draco was saying to Felix, sounding almost at the end of his own ability to stay calm. "We'll see you next week."

"No," Felix sobbed. "Don't want you to go," he almost wailed and tried to fight Harry to attach himself to Draco instead.

"Draco go," Harry said softly. "I'll calm him down."

Draco let out a frustrated noise and then pressed his lips to Harry's in a desperate, hungry kiss. Then he was gone, robes swirling and disappearing in a plume of flames.

Xxx

It was May when Harry walked into the ministry and asked to see Felix's birth record and then promptly updated it to include Draco Malfoy on the damned thing.

"Forgot," he said to the stunned looking witch at the desk.

Xxx

His next stop was to see Dalia at the Daily Prophet and to allow an exclusive about Felix's conception and his relationship with Draco Malfoy.

And to throw in one or two hints that the aurors had screwed Draco over royally.

Xxx

"Harry?" Hermione said over the floo. "What are you doing?"

He doused the flame.

Xxx

Hope the family tree's updated.

Harry Potter.

Xxx

The house-elf turned up when Harry was on his way to the ministry building. He had about three second's warning before Avada Kadava was thrown his way.

It hurt. This time he could feel the damn thing and it was agonisingly painful.

Xxx

He didn't know how long he floated, feeling the magic and re-working the strands and not really being all too aware of his body. All he knew was that when he suddenly emerged from it, he was gasping against the cobblestones and it was darker in the day than it had been when he'd had the spell fired at him and he felt like he was burning all over his body.

Under his fingers, the pavement cracked and splintered from the magic still rolling around in his body and the spell he'd placed around himself days before felt like it was going to split him into pieces.

He stood, mind reaching out and found himself rising, no longer on the streets outside the ministry, but actually inside it where the trial was happening and Lucius Malfoy was paling dramatically at the sight of him standing up and almost shaking with power.

"Return to sender," Harry hissed and had a moment of pure triumph as horror dawned in the man's eyes before the Avada Kedava crashed into him.

He left before anyone could say a word and stumbled into his bathroom at Grimmauld palace, throwing up and then crawling into the shower before he could think too much about what he'd done.

He needed to keep the scars though.

Just as Draco had.

Xxx

He didn't know how long he spent in there, under the freezing water and feeling the magic burn under his skin still, rolling around like a hungry stalking tiger before the door burst open and Draco stood in the way, panting and staring down at him like he was a mirage.

"Harry-"

"Don't," Harry managed to croak. "It's not settled yet. I might…" he trailed off and shuddered, though from the feeling of his magic or from the urge to cry, he had no idea.

Xxx

After three hours of it, Harry apparated to the Forbidden forest and sat down there, feeling the magic seep into the earth and spread, killing plants and the insect life until it stopped, a perfect circle about two meters wide around him and Harry finally felt his magic detangle from Lucius' curse.

In his hand, the resurrection stone was a cool weight against his skin and he stroked a thumb over it, again and again before he threw it into the forest once more.

Xxx

The second shower he took had nothing to do with the magic or the burns and everything to do with his own disgust at himself. He'd planned and plotted to kill a man, used every ounce of Slytherin cunning he had and he didn't regret it. Couldn't when it meant the man he loved could live in peace in his own house.

But he mourned something. The last vestige of innocence, his own moral pedestal, the start of a creeping understanding as to how Voldemort started, frustrated by the belief that he was abandoned and trapped in a state he'd simply been born into.

This time, he locked Draco out and tried to ignore Draco pounding on the door long into the night.

When he emerged, he stood, shoulders hunched and half-frozen despite the cobweb of burns all over his skin. Draco stood from where he'd been sat opposite, stiff and red-eyed.

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered, looking away. "I know he was your father-"

"I don't care," Draco hissed. "I thought you were dead. Four days, Harry. Four fucking days and I…" he trailed off and simply sunk down, his head to Harry's belly and his shoulders started to shake. "Never leave me again," he whispered, voice trembling. "I thought-"

Harry bent over him, carding his fingers through the pale hair.

Xx

There was an investigation which disappeared into nothing once the Prophet looked back over Harry's interview for something to expand upon during the radio silence and suddenly blew apart the way Draco's case all those years had been handled. And then examined the multitude of notes on the way the children and grandchildren of Voldemort's associates had been treated. Within days, there was horror and outrage as Hermione led the charge.

And Draco's scars and Pansy's forced marriage and the multitude of others were highlighted.

Look at the grievances we caused. Look at the cause we gave.

Look at how close we came to setting up a third war.

Xxx

"There's an investigation," Draco said tonelessly as Harry sat the breakfast table, Felix seemingly superglued to him these days. "They'll flay us alive."

There wasn't much he could say to that. "Sorry." And Draco said nothing in response.

Xxx

"You saw the file?" Draco asked the following week, back in their usual enforced routine and Harry hated it all ready because in his mind as soon as Lucius was gone it would all change, but it hadn't and now he had to wait and be patient and let the ministry serve as it should because he was already pushing it when it came to becoming Voldemort or Dumbledore.

He nodded. "It's sparse," Harry said after a while. "I've read robberies with more detail."

Draco stared at nothing and then closed his eyes. "There was…when we were seventeen, just after I'd failed to kill…" he swallowed and looked at Harry briefly, "I was tested again. Voldemort wished for me to be killed, but my mother protested and my father," Draco snorted, "pointed out I was the last Malfoy and therefore of value. So there was…an earning if you will. I went on a raid with them. We found this…this muggleborn…she was…" Draco seemed to struggle for a moment. "Rebecca Smith. And she was in Slytherin when we arrived. We overlapped by a year. But she was a muggleborn who had polluted our house so we attacked and I…I tortured her, Harry. Unforgivables, pain. Humiliation. We were not to sully ourselves with impure breeding, but we could…assault using objects. It was degrading to the victim. My first day with them…when I was taken. It was her I was being punished for.

"Then it was for his crimes and…I recognised enough to link them. Torture that I had watched and done nothing to stop-"

"You were seventeen," Harry whispered, taking his hand. "Who offered you protection, Draco? Who offered you a way out?"

"But I did it," Draco said, looking him in the eye. "That punishment…I earned it."

"Draco-"

"Vigilantism isn't…ideal," Draco said, walking away and heading towards the bed, "but it is…it's done. Whether you agree with it or not Harry, I can accept it. And you are going to have to let it go if you want to do this properly, avoid another war, make true peace."

"I can't believe you are backing down from a fight," Harry muttered, watching as Draco changed his shirt for a pyjama top. "They tortured you. They are not judge jury and executioner."

"And neither are you," Draco argued. "You know the dangers of trying to be." He drew back the covers.

"So…you're happy. Just let bygones be bygones. We'll see each other once a week-"

"You could come and live at the manor," Draco pointed out.

"You could burn it down and rebuild it piece by piece," Harry groused, weaving closer to the bed.

"Clearly you have no idea about pureblood properties," Draco sighed, lying down and watching Harry. "Do you think you could get there? One day?"

"Only if you redecorate," Harry mumbled feeling oddly like a wild bird that Draco was luring in.

Draco just smiled and nodded.