Ron was waiting in Harry's office the next morning when Harry went to work, with what looked to be a copy of a Wizenagamot hearing transcript in his hands and a hard, intense look on his face. "What the fuck is this, Harry!?" he demanded, waving the parchment at Harry. "When were you planning on telling me and Hermione about this!?"
"Is that by any chance the Malfoy report?" Harry asked.
"You know that it is. Why didn't you tell us? Ten years? Merlin's saggy ballocks! This bears repeating: what the fuck?" Ron asked again.
"So I take it you know about Draco and the children…" Harry hedged.
"That they're yours? Yeah, I kinda figured that one out when a copy of the report landed on my desk last night. I guess Robards thought I ought to know, even if my best friend didn't bother to tell me. Why the fuck did I have to find out like this? You could have told me!" Ron's face was red with anger now.
"Look, I'm sorry, okay? I was going to tell you, I've just been busy with Draco and our kids. I missed ten years and I've been trying to make up for it." Harry's tone was defensive.
"How did this even happen? I mean, this report says you're an Incubus, Harry, but you're not. How could you be? Your mum was Muggleborn and your dad wasn't infected."
"Erm, we think it must've come from my mum's side. She must've been an undiagnosed Succubus or something. I have some hard to recognize mutant strain of the virus and I test negative. My mum married young, so she probably only ever went after my dad in her dreams. With the first war and her being murdered, there really wasn't a chance to uncover it." Harry had been trying to figure out how he was going to explain this for days now. His plan was to stick as closely to the story Draco had tricked him into believing as possible.
Ron waved the parchment around in the air for emphasis as he replied, "You are forgetting one thing: your mum was a Muggleborn, Harry. Muggles don't have the virus, even a rare mutant form that is virtually undetectable."
"Well she couldn't have been Muggleborn then. Her mum was a Muggle, but Grandpa Evans couldn't have been her father. Grandma Evans must've been attacked by an Incubus." This was the only possible explanation that did not involve witches and or wizards hiding the virus for generations from the Ministry.
"A rouge Incubus? No fucking way," Ron replied in disbelief.
"Yes. It's either that or my dad had it, but he was a Pureblood. If he had it, then one of his parents must've had it and there's a whole chain of people who hid it."
"Your mum having it and not knowing does make more sense…And it's some mutant strain that tests negative, right?"
"Yeah," Harry agreed.
"Then there could be others like you. One rogue Incubus back then could lead to a whole bunch of undiagnosed Incubi or Succubi Muggleborns terrorizing people's dreams. I have to go tell Robards!" Ron rolled up the parchment he'd been waving around in preparation to run back over to the Auror department.
"No, Ron! Wait," Harry exclaimed, grabbing hold of Ron's arm to stop his friend. Ron paused, looking at Harry questioningly, because covering something up was way out of character for Harry. "Look, I don't want you telling the whole world. I know there could be others out there, but not from my mum and not from me. I only ever dreamt of Draco Malfoy. I know it's strange that my subconscious chose him, but I love him and he's the wizard I want. Are you okay with that?"
"Three kids and ten plus years in, is a little late to be asking if I'm okay with it, Harry. I'm your best friend; don't you think you could've told me about your weird sex dreams?"
Harry blushed and looked away before answering, "I thought they were just dreams. It did occur to me once that I might be an Incubus, but the test was negative, so I thought that it was only a dream. For a long time, I didn't really know Draco, so I was embarrassed I was dreaming about him. As long as it wasn't real, I didn't want you to know."
"So what, you want to continue hiding the kids forever, because you're embarrassed you slept with Malfoy?" Ron asked indignantly, his disapproval clearly evident on his face.
"No, now that I've gotten to know Draco better, he's not so bad. I don't want to hide our kids; I'm proud of them. I'm proud of Draco too; he's really changed for the better. But we haven't told the kids yet, because…well Draco wants to build up to that slowly. And, er, well he's the victim in this and he's the one who's been raising them all this time, so I sort of thought that I should do things his way."
"Alright, I could ask to keep the details of the investigation under wraps for a few months. That should give you plenty of time."
"But it's not just me; Cori, my daughter, she has the virus too. She's only three and if it gets out that I have it and that they're my children, then someone will put two and two together and come up with Cori. She's the sweetest little girl and not ready to be in the center of the media's attention. I don't want reporters hassling her and her picture plastered across every paper in the country." Harry's voice was pleading.
Ron's face softened as he realized that this wasn't just about Harry and Draco, but three innocent children as well. "She's the same age as Rose, isn't she?"
"Yeah. Imagine how you and Hermione'd feel if it was Rose who was born with this virus. I know we hurt people when we invade their dreams and some of the infected use it to rape innocent civilians, but not all of us do. We are all just born with it and my Cori is too young to hurt anyone or understand why this is a big deal. I really don't care if you want to look for my mum's real father, but I don't want it getting out that I have the virus or the connection to Cori. I just want to protect her. I've been a bloody awful dad; protecting her from the press is the least I can do."
"I guess I could leave your name out of it, but I'll need something to work with. We'll have to have the virus isolated and analyzed to see where it came from. And we should probably have St. Mungo's start screening for it too."
"Great idea, Ron. I'll have my healer send in my samples as soon as he isolates the virus. It might take a while. Is there any way you could just keep this to yourself until then? It's not like you have anything to go on without the sample," Harry hedged.
"I guess…but Robards already knows; he's the one who put this report on my desk," Ron replied, slapping the scroll of parchment in one hand against the palm of his other.
"Brilliant, that's all I ask. That and leave Cori out of it."
"The law states the Incubi and Succubi who have yet to complete puberty and haven't yet begun invading dreams have the right to complete anonymity. Even adults have the right to privacy, provided that they are properly medicated or bound to a mate. It is only the rogues who the public needs to be warned about."
"You're a virtual fountain of knowledge."
"Hermione's rubbed off on me. Her and all of these years as an Auror… And I sort of brushed up on this last night, after finding this scroll on my desk. By the way, Harry, Hermione and I called Mum and Dad over to watch the kids last night so that we could confront you. Only when we got to Grimmauld, it was deserted. You're gonna have to explain this to them."
"I'll tell them, but I'd like to keep a tight lid on it. For now could we keep it to just the four of us?" Harry pleaded.
"I'm sure they will keep it a secret if you ask."
"And I'm sort of really busy at the moment. I'm behind at work and I suddenly have a medical condition that I'm required to seek treatment for, along with a new boyfriend and three children who hate me and don't know that I'm their dad. Could you handle Hermione and your parents for me?"
Ron sighed, but agreed. With that settled, he went back to work, leaving Harry to concentrate on his work.
After work, Harry changed and headed over to Malfoy Manor, as he and Draco had planned that morning. After dinner Harry'd be busy, because his first visit with Healer Gregory Goyle was scheduled for late that evening. He wanted to spend as much time as he possibly could with his children, and that was why Draco had invited him for dinner and suggested that he come straight home after work.
Harry Flooed into the drawing room, where he was met by one of the many Malfoy house elves, who led him outside. The children were playing in the pool out back, Scorp and Nysus racing across the length, while Draco splashed and played with Cori on the steps of the shallow end. Harry went to the poolside nearest Draco, unsure how the children would react to him today. He wanted to greet Draco with a kiss, but it was still a bit soon for that. Instead he kept the greeting platonic, taking his boots and socks off and dangling his feet in the warm water. The Malfoys were the only family he knew who had enough house elves to keep an in-ground pool warm and filled with water even in the cold of an English autumn.
"Harry, I'm glad you came," Draco returned.
"Hullo Cori, how are you today?" Harry asked his daughter as she spun around in a circle on the middle step.
"Cock!" Cori answered.
"Draco?" Harry asked, unsure what was going on.
"Cock!" Cori repeated, pointing past Harry, where a peacock stood behind him on the lawn.
Harry turned, his and Draco's gaze both shifting to see the bird.
"Pea-cock, Cori, pea -cock," Draco corrected.
Harry sighed in relief that his daughter was referring to a bird and not what he thought she'd said.
"Get your head out of the gutter, Potter. She may take after us, but she's too young for any of that." Draco smirked.
"Right. And how long, exactly, do you leave the water in this pool?" Harry asked, wondering if he should start keeping a swimsuit here.
"All year round."
"Seriously?"
Draco shrugged and answered, "Some years, yes. Most years since Scorp was born, in fact. He loves to swim, so except for the few times when the weather was particularly horrid, the elves keep it heated." Harry nodded and there was a moment of silence, before Draco added. "Listen up, I have an idea for how to handle our little problem." Draco jerked his head in Nysus' direction, to indicate exactly which problem he was talking about.
"Has he started coming around then?" Harry asked hopefully.
"No, not exactly," Draco answered. Harry raised an eyebrow, signaling Draco to continue. "He wants something. Actually he's wanted it for ages now, but he asked again at lunch."
"Well, what is it?"
"We go to Muggle theater quite often, you see, because I want to keep them out of the eye of the Wizarding World and I don't want to keep them cooped up in the house. So we go out pretty much every weekend and Nysus loves the Muggle plays."
"Does he want to see a play? I could take him," Harry offered.
"Well yes, they do want to see a new play and you are welcome to come along, but that isn't where I was going. I can take them to the play this Saturday and then we can do our usual ice cream and shopping in Wiltshire. What I can't do is take Nysus to this after school drama club he wants to join. Not only is it in London, but it's Muggle. They meet five nights a week when they are gearing up for one of their shows, because the children put on their own little play. He talks all the time about wanting to be in plays and learn to act. He even puts on little skits at home for us sometimes. Scorp loves the movies, but Nysus is obsessed with the plays. I would take him to the club if I could, but with three children and a muggle location, I don't see how to manage it. If it was only once a week my mother and I could manage, but not five nights a week. I thought maybe if you could take him at least two of the nights, then my mother, Nanny Crabbe, and I could handle the rest. And it's only five nights when they are having a play and the two weeks leading up to the play. The rest of the time it's only two nights a week," Draco explained.
"He wants to be an actor?" Harry asked surprised. He'd seen a mischief maker and slotted the child into the same category as James Potter, Sirius Black, and the Weasley twins. None of them had wanted to be actors and neither did he, so he found the combination odd.
"Of course. Why do you think he likes breaking into the portrait room?" Draco asked and Harry shrugged. "A portrait is a captive audience, especially one with a spell on it preventing it from moving frames, like in the forbidden portrait room. Those portraits never see anyone or anything, so they make a seemingly fantastic audience. He tries his skits and ideas out of them first."
"Oh, so it's not because he has a problem with Muggles?" Harry was concerned about a potential Muggle phobia, since they were discussing signing the child up for a Muggle theater troupe.
"No, not at all. He's told portraits off before for saying things against Muggles, but I had no idea he shared their dislike for you. I would've said something if I had."
Harry believed Draco and nodded. "You know, I do live in London. It would be no problem for me to take him to that theater thing almost every night. And if I can't, then I can still grant you access to my house, so you could floo there and then hire a Muggle car to take you to wherever," Harry suggested.
"Greet! I don't mind you taking him, but maybe in the beginning it would be better if we both go. I'm worried about it being Muggle…if he acts up and something happens, then we could have a real problem on our hands."
"You're probably right, we should take this slowly. We'll both take him. We could tell him that I need to come, because my house is in London, so you have to floo into my place."
"He also needs to know that when the schedule increases to five nights a week, he'll be going with just you. That needs to be a condition of letting him go," Draco insisted.
"Alright, when do we tell him?" Harry asked.
"At dinner." Draco answered and Harry agreed.
When Harry next looked up at their sons, they had switched from racing to diving after a flash of gold. "What is that they're playing with? Some sort of pool toy?" he asked.
"Modified Snitch for the pool. I invited them for Scorp. They use their wings as flippers to swim around the pool and the boys swim after like Seekers. I sell them to Quidditch Supply stores under the name Water Snitches. No one knows they are a Malfoy product, so we make a fortune off of them," Draco explained.
"You invited the Water Snitch?" Harry asked impressed. He'd purchased a few for Teddy and his nephews and nieces over the years. He and the adult Weasleys had even spent a few enjoyable summer afternoons chasing after the fun water toys, which George now carried in the joke shop.
"Yes."
"George said he tried to contact the inventor about this new game we play at the Weasleys called Water-Quidditch, but he couldn't get a reply back. It's great fun. We play it with regular Quidditch gear, except for no brooms and your Water Snitches instead of regular Snitches. The only parts George had to invent were the floating goal hoops. They inflate themselves when thrown in the pool and then deflate and fold back into a neat little box when they dry out."
"Tell him to try again. We get a lot of corporate mail and something important invariably is lost in the deluge. This is the time of year when we need to start planning for next summer's rush," Draco replied.
"Absolutely," Harry agreed. After a minute, he proceeded to tell Draco about the conversation he'd had that morning with Ron, but leaving out enough of the conversation to make it difficult for the children, if listening, to follow what they were talking about.
It wasn't long before a house elf announced dinner. They made a detour to change, so Narcissa was already seated at the table when they arrived. They took their seats around the table. Draco was the only one who sat next to Harry.
Draco waited until they were finishing up dinner and the children were asking about dessert, before broaching the subject he and Harry had discussed earlier. "Nysus, I mentioned the theater club you want to join to Harry and we have come up with a solution that would allow you to attend."
Dionysus' face shifted from excitement over the theater club, to dislike for Harry, to suspicion. "How?" he asked skeptically.
"Well Harry lives in London. It would make taking you there a lot easier if we first floo to his house," Draco started.
"That's it?" Nysus asked.
"No. I mentioned at lunch that Grandmother, Nanny Crabbe, and I simply do not have time to take you five nights a week. Harry has agreed to take you at least two nights a week during those weeks. Alone; just you and him. Can you live with that?" Draco asked.
Nysus wanted to scream no, but he just barely managed to hold back his instinctual reaction. His face twisted into a frown as he thought about it. He hated Harry for locking his father up in jail, but he really wanted to join the theater club. "There is no other way?" he asked.
"None," Draco confirmed. "Either you let Harry take you sometimes or you do not go."
Nysus looked to his grandmother for confirmation, who nodded. He let out a snarl of frustration, before taking a deep breath and answering, "I'll have to think about it, Father."
"You do that. You have three weeks to decide or they will start without you and you will have to wait another three months for the next play," Draco replied.
Author's Note: I think it's time Harry and Draco tell the children they're dating.
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