Harry really hated how nice Malfoy's flat was. Whereas Harry's was only technically not a studio because he had a bedroom door, Malfoy's was reminiscent of an actual home. Two spacious bedrooms with enough floor space around the furniture to actually enjoy them, a kitchen that could comfortably fit a family, and a living space with enough room to actually live. Standing there now, Harry scowled at the high quality armchairs, end tables, and unnecessarily large bookshelves. There was no way Malfoy ever read anything for fun, surely? And yet, Harry stood in the prat's living room, losing count of how many volumes were stuffed onto the gorgeous shelves.

"This is my new home, Teddy," Malfoy was kindly explaining to Teddy a few paces away. His voice was unrecognizable to Harry, soft without malice. Even his face was different. Harry couldn't quite tear his gaze from Malfoy as he told Teddy that he, too, had to find a new home. His face seemed to lose all its harsh lines and his eyes relaxed in a way Harry had been convinced until seconds ago wasn't possible.

It was unnerving.

"Well, feel free to explore, little one," Malfoy said. His pale eyes slid past Teddy and met Harry's. "Why don't you say farewell and then we can have a proper look together?"

Teddy turned around and beamed at Harry, hurrying over to hug his leg. "Bye!"

Forcing himself not to meet Malfoy's smug gaze, Harry embraced Teddy tightly. He hadn't seen Teddy look so happy since he had taken custody of him, and there was no way Malfoy didn't know it. Frustration seared his stomach, but Harry just smiled back at Teddy as he kissed his forehead.

"I'll be back after work to take you home, okay?"

Teddy nodded, smile still lighting up his face. That was what was important, Harry told himself. This was going to be good for Teddy. That was what was important.


The frantic, rage-driven homemaking from the previous weekend finally showed Draco a result worth its while.

Teddy was there.

"This is my bedroom," Draco was saying, Teddy at his knee as they stood in the doorway. "This is where I sleep now. And this," he said, leading Teddy to the other bedroom by the hand, "this is...well, this is a spare room for now. But I'd like one day for this to be your bedroom."

The little boy just stared at the bland room. Nothing hung from the walls but a basic black frame with a shifting stock photo on the interior. The window was concealed behind thin gray curtains. While Draco had optimistically bought and constructed a sleigh-style toddler bed that was tucked into the corner, the only other furniture were a simple black chest of drawers and an empty bookshelf. Not exactly what one would point out as a child's bedroom, but Draco wasn't a fool. He knew that this day with Teddy could easily be the last time he ever saw the boy.

"But that's for another day," Draco said pleasantly. "You're welcome anywhere, little one. For now, have you eaten a proper breakfast? Are you hungry?"

Teddy nodded enthusiastically, reaching up to Draco with both hands. Happy to oblige, Draco lifted Teddy into his arms, holding him firm against his chest. Little arms wrapped tightly around his neck and squeezed. Teddy dropped his head onto Draco's shoulder.

Fuck, he had missed this. Nothing compared anymore.

Things weren't the same as they had been, however. After nibbling on the crust of a single piece of toast for half an hour, Teddy abruptly burst into tears. Frightened, hot tears that fell like a torrential downpour onto Teddy's cheeks. They converged into swift rivers that ran across his jaw and down his neck, quickly wetting his shirt collar.

"Oh, Teddy..."

Relishing in the crumbs that mingled with the tears and the slobber that soaked into his shirt, Draco took Teddy into his arms again. During his breaks at the Apothecary that week he had read up as much as he could on grieving children. He had wanted to know what to expect, how to help if and when he saw Teddy again.

The toddler sobbed as gasped for breath in Draco's chest. He patted Teddy's back softly. "There, there...you're safe here, little one. I know things are hard now...I know..." His voice caught unexpectedly, his mother's kind voice speaking almost identical words to him not so long ago echoing in his heart. He cleared his throat. "I know things seem bad now. But you have me, and you have..." He grimaced. "...you have Pot-Harry. And if things go our way...it'll stay that way."

The words seemed to soothe Teddy slightly His shoulders still quivered, but all was quiet after a few minutes.

"Want Mamie, D-aco."

"I know you do."

"Want...go home."

"I know, Teddy."

"Why...why not we go home?"

Draco chuckled lightly at the phrasing. "Things are different now, is all. The Manor is gone. Mamie and Aunt Cissy are dead. There is no old home to return to. That's why you're living with Potter, I mean, Harry now. That's why I live here now. Things are just different."

"Want Ha-wee."

Draco's jaw locked. Objectively, of course Teddy would want to see Potter. Not so objectively, Teddy had absolutely no right to ask for that sorry excuse for a guardian. He exhaled slowly.

"I know, little one. But he's at work right now."

"With...with im-imgrients."

"Well, his work is different from mine," Draco said. "I doubt he messed with potions ingredients like I do."

"Oh." Teddy leaned back then, his huge blue eyes still wet from his crying. "Want...music?"

Draco smiled. "Now that I can make happen."

In refined wizarding society, a culture in which Draco had been rather forcefully raised, music was a thing of delicate strings and polished silver horns. The tempo rarely ventured above one hundred beats per minute for fear of racing the melodies. Such polite harmonies were a luxury in the world Draco had grown up in, obviously becoming something his father rather desperately sought, something Draco had been made to learn.

His first violin was gifted to him before his fifth birthday, and the lessons he took twice a week were an annoying constant in his life until he finally left for Hogwarts. Sure, he was expected (and seen through) to keep up with the skill over holidays, but at least he wasn't constantly critiqued by the snide old wizard who had taught him.

When Teddy had requested a song from Draco shortly after moving into the Manor, it had been well over two years since he had touched an instrument. But there was no forgetting something so ingrained into a person's fingers.

Surprisingly, making the switch to a simple muggle guitar was not very difficult.

Draco stood from the breakfast table, Teddy in tow, and found the dark acoustic instrument in his bedroom. After the war, Draco had done as much as possible to separate himself from the boy he once had been. Part of that change included a very therapeutic violin-shattering session.

Teddy beamed at the guitar as Draco set him gently on his bed. Strumming a few notes to confirm that the guitar was still in tune, Draco felt the familiar throb in his fingertips as the music filled the room. He took a few steps back from the bed and leaned against the wall.

"Sing 'Ever-lah,' D-aco, sing 'Ever-lah!'" Teddy squeaked.

Draco smiled.

His acoustic spin was far simpler than the original tune. It was by an artist he discovered by happenstance shortly after the Battle of Hogwarts, probably within days of his name being cleared by the Ministry. It was a muggle song, but perhaps that was why he had taken such a shine to the group. It was another part of his childhood self he was eager to leave behind, the open hatred for all things muggle.

Not that nearly two decades of listening to his family's views could be erased overnight, or even in the course of a year. How could one truly believe muggles and wizards were at all comparable? One wielded magic and the other did not. But that didn't mean muggles deserved to be ruthlessly murdered, horribly ridiculed, or unabashedly controlled. Less than Draco thought they were, they were still humans.

After several chords, Draco began to softly sing:

"The gap that grows between our lives,
The gap that our parents never had;
Stop those thoughts, control your mind;
Replace the things that you despise.
Oh, you're old, I hear you say.
It doesn't matter that I don't care;
I don't believe in it anymore;
Pathetic acts for a worthless cause."

Teddy slid off the bed, his legs buckling beneath him as he struck the carpet. As Draco began to strum the gentle bridge, he watched Teddy fall to his rear with a soft thump. Teddy's smile didn't even falter. He dropped to his hands and knees and scurried closer. Draco continued:

"In the beginning,
When we were winning,
When our smiles were genuine;
But now, unforgiven,
The everlasting, everlasting."

Draco crouched down as Teddy drew closer. The guitar pushed into his legs as he sat down, vibrations feeling good on his soul as he continued to play. As he always had when Draco played, Teddy reached over and began to tap the body of the guitar. He lacked rhythm entirely, but the attempt was too precious to scold.

"The world is full of refugees,
They're just like you and just like me.
But as people, we have a choice
To end the void with all its force.
So don't forget or don't pretend,
It's all the same now in the end.
It was set in a different life;
Destroys my days and haunts my nights.
In the beginning,
When we were winning,
When our smiles were genuine;
But now, unforgiven,
The everlasting, everlasting.
In the beginning,
When we were winning,
When our smiles were genuine-"

Draco's fingers played a final chord and hung over the guard. The last note hung around him and Teddy as Draco finished the song acapella:

"But now, unforgiven,
The everlasting, everlasting."

Teddy's hand stopped it's off-beat accompaniment, resting flat on the slick wood of the guitar in Draco's lap. His smile was bright as the sun, eyes wide with familiarity and contentedness. This was the Teddy Draco knew, the one that he was desperate not to let slip away. Regardless of who was the boy's guardian, Draco would do everything in his power not to let the bubbling spirit dissolve under the weight of his grief.

"Feeling better?" he asked Teddy after a moment. Teddy nodded, and he looked it. "Should we sing another song, or would you be interested in the Gradienting Color Quills I took the liberty of buying you yesterday?"

Teddy tilted his head. "Cuh-wer Wills?"

"Oh, yes. But these aren't just any Color Quills; these change shade as you use them," Draco said persuasively.

"Yes!"

"Come to the living room, then," Draco said, carefully setting the guitar back in its stand as he ushered Teddy out of his bedroom. Much as he enjoyed playing for the toddler, part of Draco felt his skill was a backhanded talent that hinted at his former self, all those hours spent learning how to become the refined sort of wizard that his father wanted.

Draco shook himself. He hadn't time to dwell. He had an unstable toddler's day to make as stable as possible. He had to make sure that his time with Teddy made enough of an impression that even the blind Harry Potter couldn't ignore the benefits.

Perfect wasn't what Draco had aimed for, no, but the day was as close to it as he could have hoped. There were tears over a broken quill, frustrated squirming over nappy changes, too many snacks and not a single meal, usual Teddy behaviors. But there was an obvious calmness growing in the boy as the hours passed, easing Draco's own anxieties. They colored pictures, read through all of Teddy's favorite books that Draco had replaced, raced through the flat like fools. It was pure joy, being with Teddy again and watching him enjoy himself as well.

There was no way Potter could ignore the happy child he was going to be picking up that afternoon. Potter had so many reasons not to have ever agreed to Teddy having so much as one minute with Draco again. But agree he had, and Draco was passing the unsaid test with flying colors.

As much as he hated to say it, and he did...Draco was grateful that Potter had gotten his head out of his arse long enough to leave Teddy with him.


"And you just left him there?"

"It's just a test run, Ron."

"Yeah, but with Malfoy? Why didn't you mention you left Teddy to die earlier?"

"Because I knew you'd say something stupid like that."

"Because it's Malfoy!"

"Look, I don't like it anymore that you, believe me." Harry pulled himself upward on the leveling bar, his muscles protesting only mildly after over a year of routine physical training. Ron pulled up beside him and they held their positions, fists under chins. "But the git had a point; Teddy's more comfortable with him than Fleur or your mum, and...you didn't see him this morning. I haven't see Teddy smile like that since before I got him."

Simultaneously, they heaved themselves further upwards, pushing their hands beneath them as they maneuvered to place their feet on the bar. Their hands retained their grips to steady them as they held the second position.

Ron scoffed. "I mean...I guess. But mark my words, Malfoy won't be okay with just seeing him on Mondays, mate."

Ron moved first, letting go of the bar and rising to stand, balancing without having adjusted his feet. Harry followed suit, keeping his feet just as stationary and focusing on his core muscles to keep him from falling the nearly two meters to the hard floor below. It had been the first of the Auror trainees physical goals, to rise from a ground floor to an upper level without as minimal movement as possible. It was the hardest test to pass, relying almost entirely on core strength and somewhat on planning several steps ahead, but Harry and Ron had been able to master the task within two months. Although definitely not among the first to pass, they had both been pleased not to be anywhere near the last.

As they began the descenting process, Harry thought about Ron's dark premonition. Malfoy was a taker, there was no doubt about that, but Harry had felt some confidence in Malfoy's own admission that he wouldn't do something to legally jeopardize his chance to see Teddy. But that didn't mean that he wouldn't badger Harry into seeing Teddy more than the current Mondays-only arrangement.

But as Teddy's smile from that morning cut through his worries, Harry couldn't help but wonder if it would really be so bad to let Malfoy watch Teddy more than once a week. If it made Teddy happy and more adjusted, it couldn't be so bad, seeing Malfoy for a few minutes of his day...every day...for...how long, though?

Harry dropped onto the floor beside Ron and the other trainees.

"Weasley!" barked their Fitness Trainer, a frighteningly muscular wizard named Roderick Shaw. "Tell me what the point of this particular exercise is!"

"So we can move without drawing a lot of attention to ourselves without magic."

"And why, pray tell, would an Auror need to know how to do such a thing? Arnold?"

A tall American witch with braided black hair answered. "We are training to be the best of the best, sir. Should we be tracking a dangerous individual among muggles, or should we find ourselves without our wands, we must be able to continue our work to the best of our ability."

"Dammit, Arnold!" Shaw shouted. "I couldn't have said it better myself!"

"Thank you, sir."

"Don't get cheeky."

Harry's eyes felt heavy. Fitness Training was always held for half an hour in the morning and then two hours in the afternoons. But without fail, every day at about half past three, Harry felt his energy very suddenly leave him. He stifled a yawn.

"Alright, for the rest of our time here, let's see some laps, lads!"

Someone cleared their throat. Shaw groaned.

"And lasses! Come on, you lot, let's go!"

With a twist of Shaw's wand, the leveling bars Vanished and were replaced with rotating tracks in the floor that allowed the trainees to run at their own pace and stay in place. It was Harry's absolute least favorite exercise. To run as fast or slow as he pleased without actually going anywhere was the most mind-numbing thing he had ever endured, including all those hours wasted in Professor Binns' History of Magic classroom. He was sure he would fall asleep mid-jog today.

"Potter!"

Harry turned to Shaw. "Yes?"

"Over here, lad. I've got an itch that needs scratchin'."

Harry shot Ron a bewildered look but only received a shrug in reply as Ron hopped onto his track and began to run. With no other real option, Harry made his way over to the Fitness Trainer.

"Yes, sir?"

"Don't look so scared, boy," Shaw said gruffly as Harry drew closer. "I don't actually need your nails, it's just a saying."

"Who...who says that?"

Shaw ignored him. "I was going to ask you last week what your problem was, Potter. Your performance has slipped a bit in the past fortnight."

Anxiety clawed at his stomach. "I'm sorry, Mr. Shaw, I'll-"

"No need. Thought I'd make you do longer runs or hang from the bars for an hour to slap you back into shape. But, fortunately for you, the Director paid me and the other instructors a visit after the trainees were dismissed last Friday. Told us you became a father."

"Er...yes?"

Shaw nodded. "Can't say I see the pull. Never had much family growing up. Never wanted to make my own. Students were enough for me. But..." Uncharacteristically, Shaw clapped Harry's shoulder and gripped it tight. His voice lost some of its usual clamor as he said, "But I realize that this is probably going to be a huge pile of meat on your plate right now. We're just bland peas while you're figuring out that kid, I'm sure."

"Uh..."

"The Director told us not to give you too much slack, as that 'defeats the purpose of our department' or whatever the like. But from me to you, I want you to keep doing your best, lad. Give me all you've got for now, and I won't make a deal of it. But in, say a month from now, you're still only reaching 90%, I'll be coming down hard on you. You hear me?"

"Thank you, sir."

"For today, because I'm such a sweetheart, you can leave early." Shaw winked at Harry. "I'll tell the team you're scrubbing the Infirmary Ward's loo to keep up appearances."

"Er...thank you, sir. I think."

Shaw slapped his back then, knocking Harry forward a few feet. The trainer raised his voice and practically shouted, "Get on out of here, Potter! You've got shit to do! We'll be seeing you tomorrow, you hear?"

Still exhausted and a bit bemused, Harry just nodded as he set for the door. He caught Ron's eye and waved before exiting into the Auror's main corridor.

An entire half hour early! Harry knew exactly what he was going to do with the unexpected free time. In his haste to retrieve Teddy after work each day, Harry skipped the chance to shower before leaving the Ministry as many of the other trainees did. His sweat clung to him all afternoon, and as he wasn't entirely sure if he could leave Teddy unsupervised for even a few minutes, Harry often took a hasty cold shower in the mornings before Teddy woke.

Today, however, he was going to take a long, hot bath.