A/N: So, my pretties... long chapter ahead. :):):) FYI: This is a good thing, as it means I've officially concurred writer's block! hells yes! Anyway, I just wanted to say something about you followers... and that is: holy crap- 20 of you! 2-0. wow. I'm honoured that you actually like me that much. i must be doing something right. But how would i know if i don't get my reviews, huh? I don't know what you like... and if there's something i should be doing, let me know, will ya? ;) But thank you guys, the support means so much!

"I heard 'bout your demotion," Ron Weasley murmured around a pasty around lunch, slumping down on the edge of Harry's desk. Harry hung his head low against the desk, wrapping his arms around it. A few blows to the head sounded really heavenly right now. Barely an hour into the workday and everyone knew about his slip in judgement. "Rotten luck, mate."

Harry groaned. "I can't believe I was so stupid," he sighed, raising his head enough to press his fingers against his eyelids to ease the pressure of a building headache.

"Should've known Malfoy would pull something like that. Never trust a ferret." Ron shook his head. "What'd he say to you anyway?"

"Nothing," Harry groaned, pushing the seemingly never ending stack of files away with both hands in front of him. "That's the problem." Perhaps had he and Draco been more open with each other, they would have been able to organize the affair around work instead of… skirting around the issue. Malfoy had his stupid pride. He knew that. Hell- everyone knew that. If for whatever reason, someone had to get hurt, he'd twist a situation around so that it would never be him. And here he was, twisting it around, throwing Harry in front of the train.

Their relationship wasn't about opening up. It wasn't about being a couple. They weren't justified to act as he did with Ginny or how Malfoy may have briefly with Astoria Greengrass. There was nothing justifiable about their relationship. Harry was cheating and he didn't deserve to be happy with Malfoy. Really happy. What they had was false. It was pure sex and nothing else. And if sex was the only thing Malfoy wanted and only on his watch, then maybe it wasn't worth it after all.

Harry wondered when he started wanting more out of their daily trysts. He hadn't really considered it until that morning, with Malfoy's rejections plain to see in his hands. He'd pulled the letter out from his robes several times within the hour alone. He'd read it over so many times, he could recite it word for word, and hand worried it in his hands so often, the edges were fraying. What exactly did he expect from his old school rival?

All he knew was that when he was with Draco, the weight of the world would be released from his shoulders. He could throw all caution to the wind, safe behind locked doors where no one would know. He had been careful. He either apparated just outside the gates of the Malfoy Manor or flooed straight in. Never for a moment would he let the public get a single glimpse of his scandalous secret life. Merlin only knew what would happen if Ginny found out.

Now she wasn't going to. As far as Malfoy was concerned, their affair was apparently over and Harry would have to return to his mundane life. At least this would give him an opportunity to bond with his kids. The way they blatantly distanced themselves from him when he was home gave him a worrying thought that they knew something was going on. Perhaps they could smell Malfoy on him too, even after vigorous scrubbing in the shower every day. Perhaps he held himself differently after spending time with Malfoy. After all, Malfoy gave him every reason to act on the defensive, even after all these years of cooling. Perhaps he snapped at them more than usual. He didn't know. But they appeared more suspicious of him than Ginny ever was.

Ginny trusted him. She trusted him with her life, just as she had promised in their vows. And he had promised her strength. Love. Faith. Loyalty. A life long friend. All he could hope to salvage out of this was possibly the last. He no longer knew what he felt for her. But whatever it was was nothing short of platonic. He wished it were different. There was a time where he wished he could be better to her; that he could feel precisely what he had felt the minute his eyes locked on her in that white dress, on her father's arm, making that final walk as a free woman. He had honestly believed back then that he could easily spend the rest of his life with her. Somewhere along the way, he'd made a mistake. Something within him had changed. There was no pinpointing when it changed, just that it had, gradual as aging. You don't notice it until it's long happened.

He wished he had known earlier. Not about himself but about Draco. House rivalry got in their way. Being on opposite sides of the war got in their way. Marriage got in their way. Harry had his family expectations to uphold and Malfoy had his. Never once had he questioned it. Some part of him had a feeling Malfoy did, forced into an arranged marriage… and even before that, forced to carry out a deed no ordinary teenage boy could possibly follow through. He had rejected murder out of what for many years, Harry saw as cowardess. He had rejected Astoria Greengrass out of self respect. Harry saw that now. He had done what Harry could not: live for himself. Make decisions for himself.

All his life, Harry had been told what to do. He did things out of moral obligation. When he was a child, he did as the Dursleys demanded, for fear of a beating. When he had arrived at Hogwarts, he did as Dumbledore demanded, for fear of letting not only the headmaster down, but the wizarding world as well. When the war came around, he did as the wizarding world demanded, for fear of letting Voldemort win. And when all that was over and done with, he did what Ginny and the Weasleys expected of him. For fear of disappointment. And here Malfoy was, rejecting all that was… well… normal. And Harry respected that. No… he admired that. He only wished Draco could have come to him sooner.

~.~.~.~.~

"We'll have to go to Diagon Alley," Ginny noted absently one day when she thought Harry was listening. "I'm in need of some new flying equipment and James will need school robes."

Harry laid down that morning's Daily Prophet to pass her a skeptical look. "James won't be leaving for Howarts until September. He'll grow at least another inch before then. Can't we just wait until his letter arrives?"

"Harry," she addressed him sharply, sending him an unsettling glare. "You know how busy we get toward September. I barely have time to pick up the children from school as it is. And Merlin knows you're rarely ever around anymore!"

"I… have been working," his retort came weak and guilty, tasting of rust in his mouth as he lied.

"Of course," Ginny nodded curtly, pursing her lips in an accusatory manner. "What the hell is wrong with you? You're hardly in your right mind when I see you. You hardly say a word to me and now you're neglecting our children? Tell me, Harry. Tell me right now what has gotten into you these days? And you'd better have a good excuse because I'm not going to put up with any of this anymore."

"I… Ginny…" I've been sleeping around with Draco Malfoy behind your back. Of course, he barely had the nerve to admit it. How could he? "It's just the Malfoy case. 'S frustrating. That's all."

"So then reassign him. Talk to Kingsley. Do something," Ginny seethed. "I don't want Draco Malfoy coming between you and your children, Harry. I can't let that happen. You're their father and if you choose work over them…"

"I'm not. I mean… I won't let that happen." He shook his head. "We can go down to Diagon Alley Saturday."

"Fine."

~.~.~.~.~

The streets were packed on the Saturday afternoon as Lily clung to Ginny's arm while the boys walked a little up ahead, still close enough to keep an eye on. Harry remained at Ginny's side in order to avoid any renewed conflict. He was already in hot water as it was. Step a single toe out of line and he'd be Bat Bogey Hexed straight into tomorrow. God, this was gonna be a long weekend. They stepped into Madam Malkin's first, as it would no doubt take the longest to get James' robes measured.

The bell chimed merrily as they entered to indicate their arrival. Harry glanced around as he stepped through the threshold. The shop hadn't changed since he'd bought his first robes. Still quaint with a manageable amount of dust. With wracks and displays of robes in all shapes and colours. Seventeen years and Madam Malkin was still at it. Seventeen years.

Seventeen years since he had met Draco Malfoy in this very shop. A shiver ran down his spine. He caught sight of Madam Malkin herself, carefully pinning a set of luxuriously coloured emerald robes to fit a little boy with strikingly pale blond hair. Harry blinked, thinking for a moment that he had stepped back in time and there was Draco, in all his snide glory.

But it wasn't Draco. This boy here, although bearing a striking resemblance to him, had nothing of the personality to him. He was quiet and flinched when the pins pricked too close to his skin. He bit his lip, looking anxious, his grey eyes darting this way and that across the shop, as if in search for someone.

As if by magic (well… perhaps it was by magic after all,) the someone the boy was clearly looking for appeared at his side. An equally blond man approached him, clapping a brief but encouraging hand to the boy's back.

"These will do," came a familiar, proud voice as the man addressed Madam Malkin. "And be certain they're left a little long about the ankles. Scorpius still has yet to grow and I'd like them to last this time."

Harry's breath caught in his throat as he stared at the pair. Malfoy. And a son? He frowned. Draco had not once mentioned a family. Sure, Harry was aware of his ex-wife. But a son? He'd only paid brief attention to the news of Malfoy's marriage and then later to his divorce. In his mind, the two dates had been much closer.

"Potter," Malfoy addressed with a nod, stopping short on his way toward the door, young Scorpius in tow, now divested of the newly tailored and paid for robes. "Fancy meeting you here." He arched a brow as if to say how unpleasant it was to meet him here. As if he would rather be anywhere else but here. "Allow me to introduce you to my son. Scorpius." There was a twitch in his jaw as he said it, coaxing his son forward with a hand to his back. "Scorpius- Harry Potter."

"A-an honour, sir," Scorpius fumbled, flushing in embarrassment as he gradually took Harry's hand to shake. "Father has told me a great deal about you. You… saved us from Azkaban." There was that familiar sense of awe in his voice, his eyes wide in intimidated wonder. "Th-thank you."

"Oh… well…" Harry began, falling short on how to carry on. He cast a lingering glance to Malfoy, whose lips twitched upward in a wouldn't you like to know type smirk. "Was the least I could do." His eyes never left Draco's. He nodded, the smallest jerk of his chin to Malfoy. "Draco," he addressed him, offering his hand.

Malfoy's eyes instantly darted to Ginny, who had wandered off to discuss precisely what she wanted with Madam Malkin across the shop. "Harry," he replied, with the slightest genuine smile, taking the proffered hand. A sense of déjà vu crept over them in that instant. Not the conventional déjà vu, but one that told them what could have been. An alternate reality where Harry had accepted Draco's hand seventeen years ago. "I apologise for my abrupt letter. Scorpius had returned from his mother's- he stays with me every alternating month, you see. I hardly thought it appropriate you coming to see me when Scorpius has tutoring under my watchful eye. Not to mention, it's the only time I get to see him." His hand came to rest on his son's shoulder, squeezing affectionately.

"Oh." Harry scratched his neck, humiliation burning red hot against his cheeks at his blunder. And here he thought he'd done something wrong. That Malfoy'd had regrets. "No- I understand."

"We'll make plans, Potter. I'm hardly finished with you."