Chapter 10- The Most Slytherin Patronus

Following the meeting with Madame O'Connell and Ruth, an appointment arrived by owl for Bear for a check- up at St Mungo's. Draco needed an appointment with his Healer about his arm so they decided to try and visit Andromeda as well, all on the same morning. It took Draco much huffing and whining through the Floo, and 'yes, but he's Harry bloody Potter,'- ing before it was all finally arranged, while Harry watched in amusement from the sofa with Bear napping in his arms.

"Don't swear in front of the baby," Harry scolded lightly.

"Fuck off."

Harry snorted with laughter. "Is it all sorted?"

"Yeah. Finally." Draco rose and went to sit in his chair.

"Thanks."

Draco acknowledged the thanks with a half hearted shrug and Summoned his homework.

The next morning was full of yelling and remembering things and fussing back and forth; Harry writing lists of questions and forgetting where he'd left them and Draco trying to pacify Mrs Black in the hallway while Harry yelled at him for stalling.

"She's bloody nuts," Harry sighed as they flopped into uncomfortable hospital waiting room chairs to wait for their appointment for Bear, with Ruth.

"She's not nuts, she's just old and… pureblood," Draco said with a shrug. He bounced Bear on his knee to make him laugh.

"We never talked about your date with her the other day," Harry said, teasing.

"What can I say? She likes that I'm there because it means she can be smug and superior and matriarchal. Not because she actually likes me."

"And the house?"

"Well. It sucks to be you, first of all."

"Hey!" Harry exclaimed.

"Maybe you should consider signing the house over to me. Who knows what else we might discover." It was Draco's turn to tease now, a light, funny side of the man that Harry had discovered he actually quite liked.

"Never in a million years."

Draco laughed. A woman sitting opposite them stared.

"You should ask her what else the house is hiding," Harry continued.

Draco hummed in what Harry took to be agreement. Fortunately, before the woman who was staring so much she hadn't noticed her own baby screaming actually called the Prophet photographer herself, Ruth stuck her head out of her office door and called them inside.

For the sake of continuity, she had been assigned to be Bear's regular nurse as well as the Ministry's advisor in matters relating to the child's safety and overall health. Harry didn't mind this one bit; the petite, brunette woman was a calm, reassuring sort of person who he didn't mind expressing his concerns to.

"I'm sorry about the surprise visit," Ruth said as she took Bear from Draco. "I wouldn't normally attend one, but since I'm your appointed child protection nurse as well…"

"It's fine," Harry said, but Draco looked concerned.

"Because of me?" he asked.

"No, because of both of you," Ruth said lightly. "Lenore came under a huge amount of pressure when she filed the paperwork for leaving a child in the custody of two eighteen year olds. No matter who those eighteen year olds might be. You're all under very close Ministry supervision."

Draco nodded, seemingly appeased. As Ruth turned away with Bear, taking him to the small bed, Harry mouthed 'you okay?' Draco nodded again and looked pointedly at where Ruth was encouraging Bear to sit unaided as she performed a series of diagnostic spells.

"I've been reading up on Metamorphmagi," Ruth said. "I've never treated one before. It's fascinating. They're so rare."

"I don't know much at all," Draco said. "I never knew his mother, unlike Harry."

Ruth smiled, warming to her subject. "The magical community in Britain only sees one born once every few years. In the whole world, there's maybe only two or three born each year, so you can appreciate how rare it is to get a child as a case study like this. What's even more special about Teddy is that he inherited his abilities from his mother, who I understand was a very accomplished witch in her own right. I've researched her family tree somewhat, and there's no other mentions of Metamorphmagi right back down the line. When these sorts of abilities are passed from mother to child they usually become increasingly powerful.

"If I'm not very much mistaken, this little one is going to be extraordinarily skilled. He's the only one of his kind alive in the whole world today."

"Wow," Draco said softly.

"Sorry." Ruth blushed furiously as she turned back to Bear. "I'm probably boring you."

"No, no, it's fascinating," Draco insisted.

"Well, he's perfectly healthy, if a little bit overweight," Ruth continued in a more businesslike tone. "Does he eat okay?"

"Like a horse," Harry confirmed.

She smiled. "Watch him with sweet things, if you can. Does he still take a bottle?"

"At night, and sometimes in the day if he wants it."

"Don't take him off them just yet, especially at night. It's a familiar thing for him and probably allows you more time to bond with him."

Ruth went on to quiz both Harry and Draco about Bear's motor skills, his reactions and abilities, making meticulous notes of all their answers. Harry was starting to get anxious about making Draco's appointment by the time she was done and they scrambled to get all of their things together in order to rush upstairs.

"I'd love to keep seeing him once he goes back to his grandmother," Ruth said as they stood at the door to her office. "Would you mention it for me?"

Draco looked like he'd been slapped.

"Of course," Harry choked. "Sorry, we really do have to rush…"

It had hit him like a punch to the gut, too. Bear wasn't theirs to keep. Andromeda would surely want her grandson back as soon as she was strong enough to take care of him again… A quick glance over at Draco told Harry that he was thinking the exact same thing.

To his surprise, Draco was met with a Healer rather than a nurse for his appointment.

"I want to check for lingering traces of the curse," Healer 'Call- Me- Hattie' Donovan said with a smile that showed too many teeth. 'Like a horse', Draco would whisper when the Healer's back was turned, causing Harry to bite his cheek so hard he tasted blood in an attempt to stop himself laughing out loud.

Draco sat very still as the diagnostic spells were run, Harry leaning back against the opposite wall with Bear in his arms so as not to get in the way.

"Hmm," the Healer said with a small frown creasing her forehead. "Would you mind waiting here a moment?"

Draco looked panicked. Harry gently bounced Bear in his arms and made a soft shushing sound, hoping to comfort both boys.

"It'll be fine," Harry said reassuringly after Call- Me- Hattie had left.

Draco started to twist his wand in his fingers, over and over again until Harry decided to take matters into his own hands and strode forward, took Draco's chin in his hand and leant down, pressing a hard kiss to his mouth.

"Why the hell did you do that?" Draco demanded, breathless.

"I dunno. Think about it."

Draco rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. "I hate you," he said petulantly.

"No, you don't," Harry retorted.

A sharp knock on the door later and Healer Buck strode in, offering a hand to each man to shake.

"Well, Mr Malfoy, what seems to be the problem?"

"I wasn't aware there was one," Draco said, his voice suspiciously even.

Healer Buck started to perform the same diagnostic spells Call- Me- Hattie had done until she stopped him by crying: "There!"

The Healer went back and focused a beam of sunflower yellow light on one area of Draco's chest, just below his ribcage. With a lump in his throat, Harry realised what they could well be looking at.

"That, Healer Donovan, is the lingering remains of an old, very dark curse," Healer Buck said softly. He looked at Draco carefully. "I don't suppose there's any point in asking how you sustained this injury?"

Draco shook his head silently, his lips pressed tightly together.

Harry sighed. "The perpetrator is long dead, Healer Buck," he said. "Are you able to heal it? It causes him pain, sometimes."

The curse aside, Draco's look alone was potentially murderous.

Healer Buck nodded. "I should imagine it would," he said seriously. "It is a seriously disturbing piece of magic. I am not surprised my young colleague was concerned.

"I have heard, Mr Malfoy, that you are a potions maker of prodigious skill."

"Who told you that?" Draco asked, his scowl giving way to surprise.

Healer Buck smiled. "My wife is on the supervisory board of NEWT qualifications. Your Dreamless Sleep variation has been causing ripples." Draco flushed at the praise. "I imagine it would be an extraordinarily commercial product if you can counteract those sedation- like side effects..."

Call- Me- Hattie coughed lightly from her position by the door.

"Ah, yes," Healer Buck said, looking mildly embarrassed at his going off topic. "I can perform a counter curse but since the curse has lingered for so long, you will need to take a potion for a few days in order to heal completely. It is not so difficult to make, I can send you the instructions, if you like?"

"That would be good," Draco said, nodding. "Thank you, Healer."

Harry appreciated what the Healer was doing; by offering to let Draco brew the potion himself, the balance of power was transferred back into his hands. His recovery was his own responsibility.

"Excellent," Healer Buck said, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "I'll have my assistant owl you the instructions."

Although the hospital bustled around them, both Draco and Harry were quiet, lost in their own thoughts as they made their way to Andromeda's ward. Neither of them had wanted to consider the future of their little family, what would happen when they eventually had to give Bear back. He wasn't theirs to keep.

"Nice to see you again, Mr Malfoy," a nurse greeted them at the entrance to the ward, causing a spike of guilt in Harry's stomach, that he hadn't been coming to check on Andromeda's condition too. The wizard soon noticed Harry as well, though, and greeted him with an excited "Nice to meet you, Mr Potter."

"You too," Harry mumbled, shifting Bear on to his other hip. "How is Mrs Tonks?"

"Her condition is improving steadily," the nurse said as he lead them through the ward. "We are starting to see signs that her magic is returning. We may see her regaining consciousness in - oh, I don't know - weeks and months rather than years from now."

Harry nodded and tried to look like this was good news. The nurse left him for some privacy.

Bear started fussing so Harry handed him over to Draco, letting the other man deal with dummies or dirty nappies or whatever it was the baby needed. They'd reached Andromeda's bed. The woman that he remembered as so full of life and vitality looked pale and drawn; the dark circles under her eyes and harsher features only served to make her look more like Bellatrix, confusing Harry's tortured feelings even further.

He forced himself to sit in the plastic chair next to the bed and reached over for Andromeda's hand.

"Hi... it's Harry. Um... I don't know what Draco has told you, or if you can even hear me. But I wanted to tell you... we've got Bear now. I mean, Teddy. Draco nicknamed him 'Bear' and it's sort of stuck. It's not easy, you know, looking after a baby. But we really love him. And I think it's good for both of us. He's... sort of... alright, you know? Not what I thought he was. He's different to when we were in school. Well, I suppose we all are.

"Look, I know I'm rambling now, but what I really wanted to say is that... we're okay. We're not perfect, but I think all three of us are happy. So, if you can hear me, you don't need to worry. Just concentrate on getting better, yeah? We're all okay."

xXx

The silvery light of a familiar Patronus lit up the room; the unearthly otter echoing with Hermione's voice: 'Can you let me through, please?'

"Tell her we're in the kitchen," Harry said to the otter, who nodded and disappeared, and Harry waved his wand to allow her through his complex wards.

She landed with a loud crack and straightened her skirt. Harry was immediately hit with a wave of nostalgia. Hermione was dressed in her school uniform, of course; the grey pleated skirt and white shirt, Gryffindor tie and black cardigan that looked loose- had she lost weight?

He surged forward and enveloped her in a tight hug, smoothing his hand down the back of her tight braid.

"Missed you," he mumbled.

"Missed you too," she echoed, sounding amused as she returned the bone- breaking embrace. "Harry, um, I did come here for a reason, you know."

"Sorry," he said immediately, stepping back, aware that he hadn't got dressed yet and was lounging around in his pyjamas at breakfast.

Hermione slapped a morning edition of the Prophet down on the kitchen table and looked at him with an arched eyebrow.

"What the hell is this?" she demanded; her change in demeanour would have been funny if it wasn't so terrifying.

Harry hadn't taken a newspaper in quite some time, not since they switched between adoration and loathing of him so fast it gave him whiplash. The blazing headline, though, that caught his eye. 'Ex- Death Eater Saves 30 Innocent People- But At What Cost?'

"Oh, lord," Draco muttered. Harry sat down next to him and they leaned in to read the article together.

Ex- Death Eater Draco Malfoy was recently called upon by the Auror office to assist in one of their largest ongoing operations. The thirty people who were being held at Yaxley Manor in Yorkshire had been missing for upward of six months – no one was confident of finding them alive. But, after months of searching, new evidence came to light, launching a massive rescue mission at the Georgian estate.

The plot thickened as Aurors discovered that the only way that the Manor (designed and built by the same architect, incidentally, responsible for Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire) could be entered was by someone bearing the Dark Mark – the identifying feature of You- Know- Who's followers. This posed an obvious dilemma: there are only two Death Eaters left alive.

Lucius Malfoy was a prominent figure in the first uprising of You- Know- Who and is currently serving a life sentence in Azkaban. His eighteen year old son, Draco, is believed to have been the youngest of all of the Death Eaters and, this reporter has discovered, his actions in March of this year allowed the escape of Harry Potter and his friends to escape certain death at the Dark Lord's hands. The son was clearly the only chance the Ministry had in gaining entrance to the Manor, where they had no idea if the victims would be dead or alive.

Auror Martin Stonestreet lead the operation and has refused to comment on its details. However, here at the Prophet we have learned that Malfoy Jr. was called upon to join forces with the system he once so publicly defied.

In a dramatic and terrifying twist, it emerged that the Manor held what is commonly known as a 'Traitor's Curse'; an archaic and seldom used curse designed to cause the 'traitor' to painfully bleed to death. The curse resonated through Malfoy's Dark Mark and he was rushed to St Mungo's bleeding heavily from his left forearm. He was admitted and remained under the care of senior Healer Buck for a number of days before being discharged into the care of "a friend".

Only a few floors away, the last victims of You- Know- Who's reign recovered, mostly from exhaustion and malnutrition, having been kept alive by the kindness of house elves.

"He did a brave and selfless thing," commented Ophelia Drunge, 74, of Hartwith cum Winsley. "He had no obligation to help us and he did. He is welcome to mine for a cuppa whenever he wants."

The happy ending to this tale is yet to come. Reports from inside St Mungo's suggest that Malfoy had a regular visitor during his stay. Although my source refused to reveal the identity of the mystery visitor, they did also mention that a baby was also frequently seen in Malfoy's room.

With the scandalous revelations last week that Malfoy's former classmate, Pansy Parkinson, is carrying the child of one of her father's friends (almost twenty six years her senior), one naturally wonders if she is the only former Slytherin who has joined this young parents' club.

Since very few, if any, have survived a traitor's curse in modern times it is unknown what the lasting effects on Malfoy will be. Let us hope that this gallant and courageous young man has indeed found solace in the arms of another. We at the Prophet wish this unsung hero the swiftest of recoveries.

A soft thudding sound to his right told Harry that Draco was repeatedly banging his head against the wooden table. Something was bubbling in his chest, threatening to break free, and as he raised his eyes to Hermione, it escaped.

"Not funny," Draco bit out as Harry rolled on the floor, clutching his stomach with both hands to control the cramping laughter.

Accompanying the article was an old image of Draco in dark robes, scowling into the camera, which may well have been a Ministry mugshot. Draco growled at the picture, folded the newspaper and flung it back at Hermione who protested and whacked him around the back of the head with it.

"Hey!"

"Don't start. You're both in trouble with me right now. Why did no one tell me what happened? I'm out of the loop enough as it is, without something like this…"

Harry could sense she was getting a full head of steam on her and attempted to diffuse the situation before they were treated to a spectacular rant.

"We didn't mean to keep anything from you," he said hurriedly. "I jus thought Ron would have told you."

Draco grinned and gave him a thumbs up from over Hermione's shoulder.

She harrumphed. "He's in Belarus."

"Lucky Ron," Draco said and ducked at the scowl she threw at him.

"Don't you have lessons this morning?" Harry asked.

"Ten o' clock. Potions," she said briskly. "I have at least another hour in which to yell at you."

"Granger, why don't you just have some toast?"

She sat down sharply, her mouth hanging open just a little bit. Then she shut it smartly. Draco stood up to make her a cup of tea just as the sounds of Bear's crying came through the conspectus charm.

"Oh! You're still using them!" Hermione said, delighted.

"Yeah. They're a godsend," Draco said from his spot by the kettle.

"I'll get him. Won't be a minute." Harry took the stairs two at a time and lifted Bear out of his crib and on to his shoulder. It was rare that Bear woke up crying these days but Ruth had said it was nothing that they needed to worry about.

They talked about school while studiously avoiding their previous enmity as Harry fed Bear his breakfast. Hermione had to disappear far too soon after finding a very small clean spot on Bear's head to kiss and offering promises to return as soon as she could.

"She doesn't hate me." Draco's voice was as confused as it was stunned.

"I think... there's something I should tell you," Harry said as he cleaned the goo from Bear's face and handed him a biscuit. Draco just raised an eyebrow in an expression that might have been disdain if Harry didn't know better.

"The statement that was read at your trial," Harry continued. Draco's eyebrows turned downwards and his forehead wrinkled into a frown.

"Your statement, do you mean?"

"Yes. Well, sort of. It was Hermione's. She wrote it."

"You're having me on."

Harry shook his head and tried not to snort with laughter. "I'm not, no."

"But why... why would Granger want to do that? She hates me."

"She doesn't hate you any more than I do, Draco. What you need to realise is that what Hermione loves more than anything else in the whole world is a good cause. It used to be house elves, and I think, maybe, now it might be you."

"Oh lord."

This time Harry did laugh. "Take it as a compliment."

"No, thanks."

"Aw, Draco. Don't you want to be her friend?" He was teasing now, falling into this role easy as breathing.

"The thought that she might want to be mine is terrifying."

"She's a good person, Draco."

"She scares me."

This time, Harry really did laugh. "Oh, Draco."

"Don't! You didn't ever see her at Prefect meetings. It was all, student reform and positive change and practical enforcement of the rules. I had a renewed respect for Weasley after that."

"I'll be sure to tell him."

"Do that and I'll hex you."

Harry smiled to himself and lifted Bear from his high chair, handing him to Draco at arm's length.

"Your turn to give him a bath," Harry said with his tongue firmly lodged in his cheek, then ducked an laughed as he ran out of the kitchen as Draco started yelling at him.

xXx

Bear had been bathed and was sitting on the floor between Harry's legs in the living room, seemingly fascinated with a toy that required putting a red ball in the red cup, and a green ball in a green cup to make a little bell chime. The balls were frequently thrown at Harry's head. Bear was also delighted when Harry Summoned them back from wherever they'd been thrown.

"I didn't know so many people in our year could make Patronuses," Draco said as he reclined back on the sofa, neatly tucking his feet up underneath him.

"Not just in our year. Pretty much everyone in the DA learned how to cast one eventually. Accio green ball."

Draco hummed and sipped his tea contemplatively. "Is it difficult?" he asked eventually, his voice even with forced nonchalance.

Harry stifled a smile.. "At first, yeah. Lupin taught me how to do it using a Boggart Dementor."

"But I suppose the success of that relies on what your Boggart turns into."

"Exactly." Both men were silent as they watched Bear bang the red ball on the side of the plastic casing. "I could teach you if you want."

"Hmm," Draco hummed. "I thought the Ministry were going to destroy all of the Dementors."

"They are," Harry agreed. "But they're still in the process of rounding them all up. I very much doubt they'll manage to get them all. And they're good for sending messages, too. An owl can be intercepted but a Patronus can't."

Draco mumbled something that Harry ignored. With the little information he'd gleaned about the other man in the few weeks they'd been… housemates? Cohabitants? He'd learned that more than anything else, Draco hated being ignored.

"Okay," the other man said eventually. "You can teach me if you want."

Harry snorted with laughter.

"What?"

"You," Harry muttered.

A week later they stood in Draco's potions lab, the long table pushed to one side and Bear napping in his squashy chair, safe out of the way in the corner.

"Okay. So don't expect for anything to happen the first time, because it likely won't."

"Stop making excuses and show me."

"Fine. The incantation is expecto patronum. But before you get there you need to focus your mind on the happiest memory you can think of. It needs to fill you up, take over all of your thoughts. When you're there, try it."

Harry fell silent and leaned back against the wooden staircase, his arms folded across his chest. Draco stood, his eyes closed and chest rising and falling within the confines of his thin navy jumper. He watched, entranced, as Draco lifted his arm and whispered the words.

A faint, silver puff emanated from the end of his wand.

"Was that it?" he asked, incredulous.

Harry laughed. "It wasn't bad for a first attempt," he said. "Something happened at least."

"I thought they were supposed to be animals," Draco pouted.

"It will be," Harry assured him. "You just need to practice."

They spent several hours working, during which time Draco only got more and more agitated when the charm wouldn't work.

"You're not teaching it right," Draco whined. "There's something you're not telling me."

Harry rolled his eyes, closed them, and let two words fill his mind: 'It's over'.

"Expecto patronum," he murmured, opening his eyes to watch the elegant silver stag burst free from the end of his wand. It galloped half way down the room then turned back to Harry with a look of why call me when there's nothing for me to do? Then took off again, disappearing through the stone wall.

"Well, fuck me," Draco muttered.

"I've been able to do it since I was thirteen," Harry said.

"Show off."

"No, I just meant that I've had plenty of practice. Come on, we'll get some lunch and try again later."

By early afternoon they'd determined that Draco's Patronus was definitely some kind of bird, but it wasn't obvious yet just what. Still, it was an enormous achievement, not that Draco listened when Harry tried to impart this on him.

"It takes practice, Draco," Harry sighed as they sat down to a lunch of roast beef sandwiches. "You can't expect to get it in one morning. You have to keep at it."

Draco muttered something to himself and got up in search of crisps.

"It's a difficult charm to learn," Harry repeated, attempting to reassure. Draco scowled and pushed his sleeves up to his elbows to rub at his forearm. The bandages could have come off days ago, and there was no need to apply the salve any longer, but Draco insisted that Harry re- dress the wound every evening before bed. It was a battle that Harry wasn't sure how to fight. He decided that Draco needed to come to terms with this new scar with the help of his therapist, and wasn't spoken to for at least half a day when he voiced this opinion.

"I know what it is," Harry said suddenly, smirking as the thought formed in his head. "You don't like that you can't do it."

"No," Draco said quickly. Too quickly.

"It is!" Harry crowed. "The child prodigy Draco Malfoy can't cast a simple little Patronus."

"No!" Draco repeated. But he was blushing furiously.

"Aw, it's okay. I'll help you."

"Fuck off, Potter," Draco muttered.

Harry laughed, delighted. "I promise I will. Think of it like... extra Charms homework."

"Potter," Draco said in a low voice. "Drop it now, or I'll hex you so that it's physically impossible for you to touch your cock with your hand."

"You'd just have to touch it for me, then," Harry smirked, leaning forward on the table with his forearms flat against the wood, hitching an eyebrow in a familiar flirty gesture.

"Harry."

"Draco?"

He was pushing, and he knew it, but there was something brewing between them. Stolen kisses and spectacular orgasms aside, Harry knew that this went back further than the few months they had been living together. This was the accumulation of years of tension that Harry had labelled playground bullying but was probably something else.

"I can do it, you know," Draco said. "I don't need your help."

"Then do it," Harry challenged.

Draco pushed one hand on the table for the momentum to lean over and grab Harry's t- shirt in a balled fist, pulling their mouths together for a brief, intense kiss.

"Expecto patronum," Draco whispered against Harry's lips and they both turned to watch a beautiful, elegant magpie flew from the wand Harry hadn't seen him reach for. It looped the room, soaring on spread wings, then disappeared.

Harry pressed his forehead to Draco's and decided that he was definitely not going to consider the implications of the fact that the happiest thought Draco could summon was one of Harry's lips on his own. Nope. Definitely not going to think about that at all.