Draco waited until the breathing of his bed partner slipped into slumber before reaching for his wand on the bedside cabinet and casting Lumos. Once there was light he searched the features of the man sleeping his arms for a clue, anything that he has missed that might have indicated the fact that Ewen Johnson wasn't who he said he was.
He was Harry Potter!
Merlin, he was Harry Potter. Harry wasn't dead. Harry was here, in his arms.
Draco didn't know how to feel. When Bevins had first said that Ewen Johnson was an imposter, Draco had felt a cold curl of dread invading his blood. He had been sleeping with, making love to someone who wasn't who he said he was. Someone who he has begun to trust with his son. Someone who he had started to imagine a future with.
His mind had raced with possibilities - Ewen was in cahoots with Jamieson after all, and the first kidnapping was a test run or a ruse to get Draco to trust him with Gabe, and then he would take Gabe from him, just slip him out of the manor because the wards would allow it because he had been fool enough to trust someone again; or Ewen was after his money. He'd taken the file from Bevins, paid him and sworn him to secrecy.
Bevins had left and Weasley had arrived seconds later. Draco had almost forgotten he had promised to visit with his ex-employee so had quickly shoved the folder into a drawer and cast a locking charm on it. What was he supposed to make of Weasley now - and Granger? Weasley had claimed an old friendship with Ewen and - Merlin - so had his mother! Had Ewen had them all under some kind of spell that created false memories? All Draco wanted to do was lock himself in his office and pour over the file, looking for some kind of evidence that Bevins was wrong, that Ewen was who he said he was and Draco's feelings for him weren't based on a lie. He couldn't remember ever feeling so confused.
Instead he'd been thrown into a whirlwind of Apparition to St Mungo's, administration to admit him and Weasley into the secure ward, and an overly long waiting period during which he had desperately tried not to hex Weasley for his annoying inane chatter, and failed miserably when he tried to think of anything but possible scenarios for who Ewen Johnson was.
Never once had he even considered the truth.
Finally they'd been allowed to see Jamieson, who had immediately demanded that Weasley leave him alone with Draco. Weasley had protested but Draco had allowed it; he just wanted it over with so he could go and get the file, take it home and search for answers.
"Do you have any questions for me?" Jamieson had said calmly, looking every inch the efficient and collected man that Draco had worked with these past years.
"Yes," Draco said. "Why did you do it? Why didn't you simply ask me for a pay rise? I would have granted you that."
Jamieson sneered, the polite veneer cracking. "Do you think a pay rise would be enough recompense for all that I've done for you over the years?"
"I'm sorry you feel that way. Running the business has been a learning curve for me," Draco began, flinching away from the sneer. "I looked to you as a mentor; you should have told me if you thought I was being neglectful of employees' needs. I was eighteen when I took over. My father was dead and soon after that I had a child on the way, everything was happening at once. You should have said something."
Jamieson didn't react. His unblinking brown eyes fixed on Draco coldly.
"You asked me if I had any questions," Draco finally said. "Yet you have not answered the most important one; why did you do it?" All Draco wanted was for the man to say whatever it was he wanted to say so he could get out of there and go home to Ewen and find out what the hell was going on. This kidnapping was in the past and with Jamieson behind bars, unlikely to happen again – at least not from this direction.
Jamieson's mask fell. The pleasant veneer replaced by sheer malevolence. "You don't even want to be here! I can see it in your eyes; you've dismissed me as irrelevant in that way that you have! Do you even know you do it?"
"I – what?"
"I needed the money," Jamieson said then, deflating. "My wife has cancer. No amount of magic can stop that when it takes hold and there's a Muggle operation that gives her a chance. We've got six children! I didn't want to leave them motherless, and now all I've done is ensure they have no parents at all. Louise will die and I'll be in Azkaban!" He dropped his head to his hands and pulled on his hair.
Instantly Draco felt pity. No one deserved to lose the person they loved.
"I'll see she gets the treatment she needs," Draco said, meaning it. He'd met Louise and she was a lovely woman. It didn't mean he forgave Jamieson for what he'd tried to do, but it did mean that he understood it better and could put himself in his shoes. "I'm sorry she's suffering."
Jamieson's demeanour relaxed and he lurched forwards and tried to hug Draco, but the guards pulled him back immediately and started to drag him from the room, "No! I have to tell him something."
The guards looked questioningly at Draco who nodded. They did not release their hold but the taller guard said, "Be quick about it."
"I wasn't going to tell you this, but- Ask yourself how your heroic rescuer found his way into my hiding place when I had cast a spell that meant only someone related to the child by parental blood could enter," Jamieson's eyes brightened, as though he had all the answers suddenly. "It was meant to be you who came for him, you who – I had laid a trail for you to find me but he beat you to it – I was going to take the money and Obliviate you so you wouldn't remember it was me!"
Something cold and sharp and uncomfortable filtered into Draco's blood and he felt himself begin to sway before everything went black.
When he woke up, Jamieson was gone and Weasley was bending over him. "What the fuck did he tell you?"
Draco took Weasley's hand and staggered to his feet. He looked at Weasley, and knew he couldn't have been using surveillance as this new information couldn't ever be something that would be irrelevant to him – whether he already knew about it or not.
It could only mean one thing. Ewen Johnson was real. He'd always been real to Draco. Ewen was Harry.
Ewen was Harry.
()()()
Now, hours later, after blowing up everything in his bedroom, throwing things, screaming in anger and pain that Harry had done this, he had calmed down some and had started pacing a dent in the floor of the drawing room. His son was playing on the rug beside him, his fierce green eyes reflecting back his intelligence, a miniature Harry in every way. Draco struggled to wrap his thoughts around this truth. That Harry was alive. That Harry was here. That Harry was pretending to be someone else to avoid Draco finding out who he was.
He felt the anger rise within him again, the betrayal almost stifling him; but the relaxing presence of Gabe pulled him back.
Ewen had tried to avoid Draco, shown him animosity at every turn – and when Draco had pushed the physical side, had refused to step back, Ewen had become his reluctant lover with a forcibly extracted promise that they were not exclusive, that this didn't mean anything, it was just sex.
If one thing has remained consistent for him and Harry it had been that the sex had always been amazingly intense. He should have realised sooner – the way Ewen made him feel – the way it only compared to Harry. His subconscious had known Ewen was Harry even if his incredibly dense conscious self did not.
Harry must really hate Draco to hide like this. Draco couldn't fool himself that Harry was doing this for him. It was clearly all for their son.
After hours of pacing and raging to himself, of wanting to storm down to the cottage and confront Ewen, Draco's fury slowly abated and he had slipped into despondency. How could Harry have let Draco believe he was dead? How could he have put him through the pain of losing his mate, his one true love?
When Theo had found him, and unable to keep this awful yet wonderful secret to himself, Draco had spilled the whole story to his friend, his anger overwhelming him, the pain almost too much – Theo had stayed his wayward thoughts with a simple, "This is your second chance, Draco. You can make things right with him, be a family again."
Draco had stilled for a moment. Theo was right. Harry was alive. The semantics of it should not matter. Harry still felt something for him otherwise he wouldn't be sharing his bed as Ewen, would he? Even though he had clearly been trying to have nothing to do with Draco outside the necessary, he hadn't been able to say no to him physically.
And hadn't that always been the problem? The reason why Draco had always been so unsure of Harry's love for him. Harry had neverloved him, he was compelled to want Draco, but love – that had been one-sided to Draco.
Now that Draco knew that Harry wore a glamour, even one as complicated as this one, Draco only had to whisper a few words and the shield faded away to reveal the real person underneath; the long dark lashes kissing olive skinned cheeks, a mop of shaggy dark hair that could never be tamed – and the most tell-tale of all – the jagged scar on Harry's forehead. Draco brushed the hair out the way and stared down at Harry's sleeping face.
Harry. Draco tightened his arms around his husband and sobbed silently into his hair.
()()()
"I've got something to tell you," Hermione said quietly, glancing beneath her lashes at Harry as though what she had to tell him was really bad news. "I'm pregnant."
"Hermione – that's fantastic news!" Harry jumped out of his chair and threw his arms around his best friend before holding out an arm to include Ron who was hovering nervously by the door. "So why do you look as though you've just been told that someone killed your puppy?"
"It's just, when Neville said Luna was pregnant the other week – you looked so sad when you thought no one was looking. I figured it reminded you of things you didn't want to be thinking about."
"It does remind me, and having Gabe was the best thing that ever happened to me – even now – and I never want to forget that feeling. If I looked sad it was because I wanted to hug Neville and tell him how pleased I am for the both of them, but I can't because I'm supposed to be Ewen Johnson, and Ewen doesn't know Neville like Harry does."
"Sorry, Harry, that didn't occur to me," Hermione apologised, kissing Harry's cheek and stepping back.
"Don't worry about it, it's perfectly understandable that you would think I was upset; my life hasn't exactly been smooth sailing these last few years has it? Now, come, tell me – when's the baby due?"
Harry watched as his two best friends launched into the details, and from his viewpoint, they were so happy together, even though he was genuinely pleased for them, as he had been for Neville and Luna, he couldn't help the bitter stab of jealousy that he would never have that again; never be so close to someone that he could share the contented glances with, the little touches that gave away their closeness.
When he'd woken up in Draco's arms the other morning, when he had come to him and asked if he could stay the night, in that first moment, the one half conscious state before waking, he'd forgotten that they weren't Draco and Harry anymore, and had burrowed into him, his husband, and it was only when Draco murmured something in his sleep that Harry tumbled back to the present and remembered. Even as he'd tried to extract himself from Draco's embrace, waking Draco in turn and succumbing to a slow gentle fuck, he'd been in inner turmoil.
How quickly he'd slipped back into this Draco-centric pattern. How was he going to feel when Draco moved on? As Ewen, Draco might find him attractive, but to the rest of the world, Ewen wasn't Harry Potter and it had been his very Harry Potter-ness that had attracted Draco to him in the first place. If he couldn't hold Draco's affections as Harry Potter, then as Ewen Johnson he had no chance at all.
He didn't think he could live through that again. Yet, here he was, counting down the minutes until Draco came round later, after he'd finished his meal with Hermione and Ron and Gabe was in bed. Either way this was going to hurt – he could end it himself, as he had planned, and not give in to Draco's persuasions this time, or he could simply go with it and wait for Draco to eventually break it off.
He never wanted the inevitable to happen though, he wanted to keep on doing what he was doing – he had his son in his life and the love of his life in his bed. What could be better than that?
"Don't worry, Harry," Hermione was saying. "We won't be naming the baby after you!"
Harry laughed. "Thank goodness for that. Fred's a good name though?"
Yes, Fred was a great name. They all agreed on that, but too painful to contemplate just yet. "I was thinking Rose if it's a girl, but I have no idea if we have a boy," said Ron. "That's a good strong name, what do you think? Harry, how did you choose Gabe's name?"
Draco had let Harry chose their baby's name and he'd given it a lot of thought, wanting it to mean something. "Rose is a lovely name, Ron," Harry agreed. "Draco wanted to name our baby after a star constellation, but I just couldn't find one that I liked that hadn't already been used by someone in his family and I wanted a unique name for him."
Harry had expected Draco to fight him on the name he did choose and had been pleasantly surprised when he had said that he liked it, and didn't even demur when Gabriel had immediately been shortened to Gabe a few days after the name had been chosen.
Harry had half expected that the full name of Gabriel would have made a return in his absence as it was a name more befitting of a Malfoy than Gabe was. He had been wrong about that – what else had he been mistaken about?
()()()
"Gabe and I would like to invite you to spend the day with both of us, isn't that right, Gabe?" Draco nudged his son who was sitting on Harry's knee, giggling happily as Harry tickled him.
"Yes," Gabe said between giggles. "We're going on the boat!"
"That sounds lovely," Harry said, going for Gabe's armpits. "Will there be a picnic?" Gabe loved picnics.
"Of course," Draco replied. "We'll eat on the island in the middle of the lake."
"Shall we bring the fishing net?" Harry queried and Gabe immediately sobered and turned to Draco.
"Father – please can we bring the fishing net?"
Draco rolled his eyes. "I don't see why not." He smiled at his son and then met Harry's gaze with a smile. Draco had taken an open-ended amount of time off work and all of the candidates who had been vying for Jamieson's old job were being tested in his absence. Not that Draco could even bring himself to care about that right now, but his decision to take time off couldn't come at a better time. He wasn't merely looking for a replacement for Jamieson anymore; he was looking for someone to run the whole show whilst he took a backseat and spent time with Harry.
How he played this now was of the utmost importance and for the last four weeks, he had been trying to act as he had before so as not to raise Harry's suspicions. If he told Harry that he had figured out the truth, then there was a risk that Harry would up and leave him again, and Draco couldn't bear the thought of that. He might even try to take Gabe with him. Draco knew that as things stood, he could trust him not to try anything with Gabe – if Harry had planned on taking Gabe and disappearing, then he'd had plenty of chances before now. No – he had to get Harry to trust him again before he could tell him that he realised who he was.
Letting Harry spend time with him and Gabe like a family was a start.
"Can I wear my arm bands?" Gabe asked, jumping down off Harry's knee excitedly. Draco smiled indulgently. Their magic meant that Gabe wouldn't need arm bands in their presence, but with a three year old, who knew when they might run off and jump in the lake by themselves?
()()()
By the time they had manually rowed to the island and allowed Gabe to 'row' from their laps and subsequently arrived and enjoyed the picnic of peanut butter sandwiches, Gabe's absolute favourite, and chocolate cake, Gabe fell asleep on his corner of the blanket, his tiny body curling on itself as he lost himself to his nap.
Draco glanced at Harry and carefully said, "Gabe is the spitting image of Harry."
For a moment he received no reply and if he hadn't known that this was Harry sitting there beside him he wouldn't have known to look for the way his mouth tightened slightly as he looked at the sleeping child. "It must be awful to be reminded all the time," he said finally, not looking at Draco as he spoke. "Your split from your husband was extremely acrimonious, and seeing his face reflected back at you every day-"
Had this been someone else, such as 'Ewen Johnson' saying this, then Draco would have cut him dead with a few choice words about how this was none of his business; lovers or not, as he had done in the past. Every time Draco had said something scathing about Harry - that time they had had that argument when Draco had said that Harry had cheated on him, and 'Ewen' had retaliated – which at the time had led Draco to believe that perhaps Ewen's marriage had been broken down as a result of his own infidelity – he had been referring to his marriage to Draco the whole time.
Draco had long since reconciled himself to the fact that he forgave Harry for whatever had been going on with Charlie Weasley – whether a one off or a longer term affair. If it meant he could have Harry back, he could forgive him anything; he loved him that much. If he could go back now, he would have handled things so differently, and if Harry no longer wanted to be with him then he would have let him go – but the truth was that he hadn't given Harry a chance to explain himself – 'Ewen' had been right about that but – after all, Harry's defection was nothing he hadn't predicted would happen at some point, when the spell wore off and Harry realised he wasn't in love with him after all. It was inevitable as the sun rising. He would rather have known that Harry was alive and well and somewhere else in the world than dead and gone forever.
This was his second chance. He couldn't blow this.
"Actually, the fact that Gabe looks like Harry is something that gives me great comfort. I know that you are under the illusion that I didn't love Harry, Ewen, but I assure you that nothing is further from the truth." He watched Harry carefully for a reaction, but there was none, other than that the other man was listening very intently. "I wonder where your interest in this stems from though. You've made it clear that this thing we have between us is nothing more than sex, even though I said I want more. Does your reluctance stem from your perceptions of what happened between me and Harry?"
Harry flushed. He fixed his attention on Draco then and said, "I'm nobody. He was Harry Potter. Everyone wanted a piece of him! Ron and Hermione told me he hated the attention, but nevertheless, you got him. He was with you."
"So what are you saying? That I was only with Harry for the kudos of being the one who managed to 'get him'?" Did Harry really think this? Merlin, how had Draco got everything so wrong? What had he said or done that would have made Harry think that there was even a tiny shred of truth in that? Draco had been obsessed with Harry Potter, one way or another, since he was eleven years old.
"That's what I thought, yes." His face had turned pale and he was rubbing his temple.
"You're wrong."
"I-" Harry's pale face had turned puce. "Excuse me!" He leapt to his feet and ran to a nearby tree, retching violently and parting with his lunch.
Draco stood and hovered nearby in case he was needed, "Are you okay?"
"I don't know. It might be the olives." The glamour flickered minutely, and if Draco had not known it was there he would have attributed it to 'Ewen's' sickness. "I need to lay down-" Harry ducked behind the tree and vomited a second time.
"Tippy!" Draco called and in an instant the elf was in front of him. "Mr. Johnson is feeling unwell; please take him back to the cottage and see that he gets straight to bed. I'll follow as soon as I've taken Gabe back to the house."
Harry looked as though he was about to protest until another wave of nausea rocked through him. Once he was standing again he said, "Thanks, Draco," and held out his arm for the elf to Apparate him away.
Draco Vanished the mess Harry had made and muttered under his breath about poor timing. He'd just found out something about Harry's perceptions of their relationship, and frankly he was shocked. He thought Harry had known how Draco had felt, and that it had been Harry's own growing disinterest in Draco that had torn them apart. To find out now that Harry had been under the illusion that Draco hadn't really loved him anyway…
There was more work to be done to get Harry back for good than he had previously realised.
()()()
Harry lay in the cool of his bedroom with the curtains closed and an icepack on his head, as insisted upon by the house-elf. His head was pounding, but as a side effect from the sudden sickness that had come upon him. He wanted nothing more than to slip into the oblivion of sleep as he didn't want to be thinking right now. His thoughts were leading him down a path that he didn't want to go down.
"How's the patient?" Draco's voice permeated the fog in Harry's brain, and he managed to open his eyes to see the genuine concern stamped over his face. He forced a smile.
"Not as bad as I look," he lied, not wanting Draco to know how terrible he actually felt. "My head hurts, I think this is one of those bugs – I was at Ron and Hermione's last night, maybe I picked it up there."
Draco sat on the edge of the bed and took Harry's hand. "Is there anything I can do?"
Harry shook his head, "I just need to get some sleep – I've drunk a load of water – I just have to wait it out. You probably don't want to be here."
Draco did not look convinced. "I'll send Tippy down to check on you later then?" Harry nodded weakly. "If you need anything sooner, just call her and she'll alert me. You don't even need to leave the bed."
Draco leant down and kissed his forehead. Harry wanted to ask him to stay, to lie beside him and keep him company in his sickness. Instead he closed his eyes. When he heard Draco say, "I love you," Harry knew he had to be falling asleep and dreaming; Draco had never said that to him, not even on their wedding day. After that, he slept for a good few hours.
When he woke the sickness was gone – for now – and in its place was the cold fear of what the sickness really meant. He'd been that sick once before, back when he'd been married to Draco. Draco had been away on business and hadn't seen it. It had been when Harry realised he was pregnant with Gabe.
They'd said it couldn't happen again. What the fuck was he going to do?
He heard Neville's voice saying, 'They say that pregnancies come in threes' and he remembered his picnic with Blaise at Cerne Abbas barely hours after he'd made love with Draco and he groaned.
()()()
"I'm afraid that your fears are correct, Harry, you're pregnant," Healer Katie Bell confirmed a few days later. "I take it from your expression that you're not happy about this news?"
Harry shook his head despairingly. Merlin, he was a fool. He'd thought he could play with fire, but he'd been wrong. Now he was pregnant for the second time with Draco's child. Katie sighed and placed a comforting hand over Harry's. Harry accepted it without complaint. Katie was the Healer who had helped him after his 'death' – she had cast the glamour that Harry's magic maintained as a constant, and was under and Unbreakable Vow to protect Harry's secret, even upon Harry's death. Harry had insisted on the vow, even though Katie had said that she would willingly do this for Harry without it. Harry had wanted to believe her, but his trust in everyone had been at an all-time low.
"Harry, if you don't want this baby, there are things that can be done – you're quite early on in the pregnancy – just a few weeks."
"No!" Harry recoiled. He could never do that, he could never hurt his unborn child, never kill it. "I couldn't, Katie." He could wish that this had never happened in the first place, he could wish that he hadn't been so stupid, but he couldn't wish the baby dead.
"I thought you would say that," she replied fondly. "The thing is, Harry, that in a couple of weeks, maybe less, the baby is going to be drawing on more of your magic and you won't be able to sustain the glamour."
Harry had suspected as much. He hung his head, trying desperately to gather his thoughts, figure out what he was going to do now.
"You're welcome to stay in my guest room overnight, Harry," Katie offered, her voice soft as she removed her hand from his. "I think you've got a few important decisions to make, and maybe some space will do you good?"
"Thank you, Katie, that's kind of you," Harry said with a weak smile. "Oliver's away?"
"Yes, he's in Bavaria, so you don't have to worry that you'll encounter him whilst you're here. Shall I remove the glamour for you?"
"Yes, please," Harry said, feeling the invisible weight lift from him as she waved her wand and muttered the incantation.
"I'll just go and make up the bed," Katie said, and left the room, leaving Harry staring at his own reflection in the window as the sun sank over the horizon and darkness began to fall.
"Look at you," he said to himself; his own green eyes staring back at him for the first time no months. "You couldn't just leave well alone could you? Now look at you – you've fucked up everything that you had. You're an idiot."
He placed a possessive hand over his abdomen and felt a surge of his magic as it surrounded the foetus with its protection. He sank down onto Katie's sofa with his head in his hands. What was he going to do?
()()()
It didn't take him long to pack his things. It was a case of shrinking everything and shoving it into a box – he was leaving the furniture for later use, he only needed his personal effects. He didn't even know where he was going, he only knew that he had to go and the sooner the better. Already he could feel the draw on his magic from the baby, and the glamour would have to be packed away into a metaphorical box along with all his skinny jeans until after the baby was born.
He was going to have to move out of the cottage and find a safe place that he could hide until that baby came. Then, once he was no longer pregnant, he could use the cottage as a 'holiday home' and leave the baby with Hermione and Ron whilst he came here and spent time with Gabe. Or he could spend time at Hermione and Ron's when they had Gabe over. It wasn't what he had planned – but he couldn't risk Draco finding out and taking this baby off him as well – and this time Harry had no doubt that there would be no second chances. If Draco found out who he really was, he would throw Harry out on his ear and take the baby; he'd managed to get full custody of Gabe before and Harry knew that after faking his own death and impersonating someone else, the Ministry would have no qualms in giving Draco custody of their second child as well and Harry would likely be sent to the Janus Thickey ward.
It shouldn't be a choice between one child and another, but Harry could see no other option. Coming clean to Draco was simply not viable.
So now all he had to do was say his goodbyes. It was going to break his heart to leave Gabe again. He was just getting to know the little boy as he grew into his personality. And Draco – he already knew something was wrong – the way Harry had been these last few days, not letting Draco touch him as he had been. Draco more than likely thought that Ewen was having second thoughts about this 'thing' that they had going on.
Draco would get over it; after all, he had no heart to break. Harry had to believe that or he would never find it in himself to do this – all that talk that day on the island about how much he'd loved Harry – it was just that - talk. Practically, he knew he had to do this; emotionally he wanted to tell Draco the truth and stay with him. That was all well and good in theory, but the Draco of reality would never react in the way the Draco of Harry's fantasy would and Harry couldn't go through it again.
There was no other way.
When everything was packed and Harry was gearing himself up for going to the manor and joining Draco for the meal he had been invited there to enjoy, when the Floo burst to life and Blaise stepped out.
Harry felt a surge of annoyance, this was the last thing he needed right now. In fact, in the confusion of the last few days, Harry had forgotten about his friendship with Blaise and had not included him in his list of people to say goodbye to. He supposed that now was as good as any time.
"Blaise," he greeted. "What a pleasant surprise."
Blaise grinned and Harry was swept into a tight hug. "Have you been avoiding me, Ewen?" he accused, but when he stepped back, there was a smile on his face. "You're a difficult man to woo!"
"You've been trying to woo me?" Harry said then cringed. Picnics, trying to hold Harry's hand – kissing him – most likely counted as wooing in Blaise's eyes. Harry had been so caught up with Gabe and Draco that the time he spent with Blaise had been a simple stress reliever, he hadn't given any real thought to what might be going on in Blaise's head once he'd laid down the initial rules that they were just friends.
Blaise pouted and folded his arms over his chest. "You're not very good for my ego, but it's fine, really. I know you only have eyes for Draco." He smiled widely and shrugged. "Win some, lose some."
"Oh." Harry wasn't sure what to make of that, but he was pleased for the lack of awkwardness. "As a matter of fact, Blaise, I'm actually leaving here for a while. It's not working out as I had planned."
Blaise's face fell. "Where are you going? For how long?"
"I don't know yet and just – away."
Blaise sighed heavily, his brown eyes downcast. "Will you stay in touch? I'd like to know that you're alright."
It couldn't hurt for Ewen to send Blaise the occasional owl in the name of friendship, Blaise had been good to him these last months, and he'd needed a friend that only saw Ewen and nothing else. "Of course I will." Harry stepped in and hugged Blaise again.
"What's going on here?" came Draco's voice from the doorway, and if Harry hadn't been supported by Blaise's arms he might have swayed from the force of the déja vu that rocked him in that moment. He stepped back from Blaise and turned unsteadily to face the blond, gearing himself up for the inevitable scene. Draco didn't take well to people he was involved with hugging other people; he tended to think it meant more than it was.
"I was just on my way up to the manor to meet you when Blaise popped in," Harry said hastily, hoping to delay any histrionics, thinking that perhaps Draco had learnt from past mistakes. To his surprise, Draco looked between the two of them and nodded.
"Blaise is always welcome here."
"I'll come up with you now, shall I?" Harry turned to Blaise. "I'll be in touch soon, I promise." He wanted Blaise gone before he said anything about his impending departure to Draco.
Blaise must've seen the plea in his eyes because he said, "Sure. Look after yourself, Ewen." He stepped back into the Floo and Harry felt a pang of loss – he didn't know when he might see his friend again, if ever, and that wasn't something he welcomed. Being 'dead' was a lonely existence.
He turned to Draco. "After you," he invited his voice almost a challenge for Draco to say something about Blaise's presence and the hug. He knew he was testing him; but then again, he supposed that the conditions of the experiment were different – Draco only saw Ewen Johnson when he looked at him now, and naturally wouldn't have the same reaction as he would have had he been looking at Harry Potter in Blaise's embrace.
"Is Gabe joining us?" he asked hopefully. This was likely the last time he would see his son in a long time. He felt his eyes prick with tears; how could he go through with this after everything he had been through to bring his son back into his life?
()()()
"No," Draco said, taking Harry's hand in his and threading their fingers together. "He's ready for bed and when I told him you were coming, he asked if you could read him his story." Draco thought it was uncanny the way their son seemed to have taken to Harry in a way he didn't take to other people, as though he unconsciously recognised him as his 'Daddy'.
"Oh," Harry said. "I'd love to."
Draco glanced at him then from the corner of his eyes and his heart constricted. Harry's own face was hidden behind the glamour, but he had never seen this face look so sad and defeated. He looked utterly exhausted. Draco had been so caught up fighting off his jealousy at Blaise that he hadn't noticed it at first. It hadn't been easy, stifling his jealousy at their embrace, forcing himself to wave it away; he knew Harry had been spending time with Blaise and that Blaise was keen on 'Ewen'. He wasn't such a fool that he was going to let the same mistake separate them a second time.
"What's wrong? Are you still feeling unwell?" Maybe that was it. Since that day on the island Harry had been behaving strangely. Draco had been trying to give him the space he needed, but it was killing him.
"No, I'm fine. I-" he stopped and paused, his hand tightening on Draco's. "Let's go and read this story and then we'll talk over dinner?"
Draco could do nothing but agree. He couldn't afford to do anything that might spook Harry at this point. He had to concentrate on winning his trust back. Letting Harry read their son his bedtime story was just another brick in the wall he was trying to build to keep Harry with him.
Gabe was clearly flagging but equally determined to stay awake to see Harry. "Have you got 'Tales of Beedle the Bard'?" he asked and Draco nodded and summoned it from the bookcase, trying not to react to the choice, knowing how much the one story meant to Harry. Draco listened as he read the story of the three brothers to Gabe, who listened with wide eyes, all thoughts of sleep forgotten.
When Harry had finished, Gabe said, "I want a 'visibility cloak!"
Harry ruffled his hair and said, "They're very rare. You can't just buy them from the shop." Harry glanced pointedly at Draco before kissing Gabe's forehead and pulling his quilt up over him. Draco sucked in a breath. Draco had Harry's Invisibility Cloak in the safe; and one day it would be Gabe's. Ewen wouldn't know that, but Harry would and that look he'd just thrown to Draco was an admission of that. Could it be that as Draco built up the wall of trust, Harry was gradually dismantling his barriers against Draco?
Draco could only hope that this wasn't just a blip. He knelt at his son's bed and kissed him goodnight, "See you in the morning, young man," he said softly as Gabe's lids drooped.
"'Night, Father, 'night, Ewen," Gabe mumbled and Draco stood and held out a hand to Harry.
"Dinner is served downstairs," he said, and Harry took his hand and they both left the room. Harry paused in the doorway, looking back at Gabe as though committing him to memory and hope surged within Draco.
He wanted his Harry back more than anything.
()()()
:-D