Harry let out a frustrated groan as James slammed his bedroom door shut, feeling a familiar flicker of anger at the action. He was so well behaved at Draco's house, and almost as soon as his feet entered 12 Grimmauld Place, his silent treatment resumed almost immediantly and James stomped upstairs before slamming his door. Harry truly didn't understand why his son was so upset; as far Harry could remember, he didn't do anything wrong or out of the norm. Summoning all the Gryffindor courage Harry possessed, he made his way upstairs and and knocked on the door to James' room. The younger boy didn't say anything to respond, so Harry opened the door slowly and went inside, closing the door behind him.

James was curled into a ball on his bed, his back to Harry. Harry let out a silent sigh before walking over to the boy and sitting down on teh open space by James' feet. "James, what's wrong?" Harry asked, his hands on his lap. James didn't respond. Harry placed a hand on Jame's hip, opening his mouth to say something, but was interrupted when James ripped away from Harry's touch as though he was posion. The action hurt and angered Harry, confused by why his son suddenly didn't want anything to do with him.

"James Sirius Potter! You are going to tell me what in Merlin's name has you acting this way!"

Harry snaps, squeezing his knees tightly. He hates that he has to raise his voice with his son, but this behavior has been going on for far too long and Harry was fed up with the silent treatment. James sat up in his bed quickly, tears streaming down his face. "Because you left mom! And now mom has this weird boyfriend and I have to stay with her when I don't want to, but you don't want me here and that's why I'm with mom isn't it!?" James yells out, slamming his hand on his bed before falling back on the bed, sobbing quietly.

Harry was at a lost for words; he never expected James to actually answer him, nevertheless with the answer he gave. James believed that Harry didn't want him? He thought that Harry left Ginny? The thought of that made Harry want to laugh, but he had to keep it inside, knowing that laughter wasn't the way to fix this. So harry put a hand on James' shoulder, rubbing small circles with his thumb.

"I didn't leave your mother James. She left me. Of course I want you here; why on earth would you ever think I wouldn't want you here?"

"Because you didn't even ask me if I wanted to go with mom. You just made us all pack our bags and go."

James whimpered, his normally boasting, confident voice now sounding broken and sad. The change broke Harry's heart and he felt a surge of anger towards Ginny, for allowing their children to feel as thought Harry didn't want them around or that he didn't love them. "James, you guys are with your mother because your mother and I felt that it would be best if I were to have a day or two alone to process the divorce. It was hard on everyone, and I'm sorry I didn't realize that it was the hardest on you. I'm sorry I didn't ask."

James' sobs quieted to just sniffles and Harry wondered if James was going to be okay. "It's okay dad. I'm sorry I just assumed that you didn't want me." "Of course I want you James, you are the light of my life. I love you so much, so much more than how much you think I love you." James didn't say anything in respond, and for a few moments, the two were bathed in silence. Harry couldn't quite tell whether or not it was a good silence, or a bad one; he could only hope that his true feelings were showing through to James, and that James understood that Harry loved him no matter what.

James slowly sat up and then launched himself into Harry's arms, a feat that was not unwelcome by the father. So Harry wrapped his arms tightly around his son and held him close, basking in the moment.

x.x.x

Three weeks had passed since Harry's visit with Draco and school had already begun. Harry found it slightly difficult to be a teacher, but the other staff were welcoming and very kind, offering helpful tips and being overall supportive. He found that teaching was what truly made his heart pound faster, faster than chasing evil wizards ever had in the last near twenty years; nothing filled Harry with more pride than seeing his students succeed, and they were barely starting in the new school year. Keeping true to Harry's word, Harry wrote Draco every week about the status of Scorpius, a task that was slowly becoming less about Scorpius and more about the two wizards. Soon Harry started writing letters every two days, talking about things that the two were interested in and Harry begun to become excited about writing to the other father, about everything and nothing, from Scorpius to which flavor of Jelly Slug was the obvious best. (In Harry's opinion, it was the watermelon. Draco was strange and had to say bananas, which Harry just thought was weird.)

One week, Harry found himself sitting at the desk in his office, a quill poised over a piece of parchment, trying to find the words that he wanted to tell Draco. There was so much he wanted to say, but trying to gather them onto paper was proving to be difficult; it also didn't help that Harry kept getting distracted by thinking about the blonde he was supposed to be writing to. He kept thinking about the letters he and Draco had passed, saving each one and memorizing Draco's elegant lines that drew out each word he wrote, as though he took the time to write out each one. It was so different from Harry's hurried scrawl, and yet, Harry loved it deeply.

The fireplace in the corner suddenly roared to life (startling Harry, but he would never admit that out loud) and out stepped the mentioned blonde, wiping the chimney dust away from his shoulders with distaste. Harry stood quickly to feet (banging his knee against the desk, which he swore quietly in response) before leaning on the desk for support. His eyes were opened wide and he pushed the wild hair away from his eyes, wondering if he was dreaming, for there was no way that Draco Malfoy was standing in his office.

"Well Harry, you sure do have a strange sense of style."

Draco commented, his nose sticking up into the air slightly. Yep, Draco Malfoy was definitely in Harry's office right now. "Draco? What are, I mean, why are you-" Harry stammered out, walking out from behind his desk so that he was standing across from the other man. Draco tucked one of his pale hands under the other, resting them over the center of his hips before clearing his throat quietly, almost as though he was nervous.

"Isn't it obvious? I couldn't wait for your letter, and so I came to you instead."

"Oh."

The two stood five feet from each other, a heavy silence following both their statements; but suddenly they were in each other's arms, snogging each other as if their lives depended on it. In this instance, maybe it was; because for the first time in nearly twenty years, Harry felt like he was doing something right. Although the kiss wasn't perfect, with teeth clashing together every few moments and tongues battling for dominance with nearly thirty years of pent up sexual tension, in a strange way it was, because Harry never wanted to do anything else. He wanted to stay here forever, his arms wrapped tightly around Draco with Draco's hands squeezing his arse in a way that was almost painful but every bit pleasurable. Harry ran his fingers gently through Draco's scalp, eliciting a moan from the other man and Harry just wanted to laugh the rest of forever, as long as it meant that he was laughing with Draco.

What a horribly cheesy thought.

After what seemed like seconds (and was actually several minutes) the two men pulled far enough away to breathe, each one breathing in the heavy scent of the other's arousal. They panted, intoxicated by the sexual fumes yet made no action of pulling away any time soon. Harry traced his thumb over Draco's neck gently, making Draco shiver, which caused Harry to giggle. "What took us so long?" Harry mumbled, touching their foreheads together. Draco laughed quietly before pulling Harry closer, their lips almost touching but not quite.

"It was our old scars."

Draco explains, and Harry feels that if Draco doesn't combine their lips once again, he just might actually die; but instead of doing so, Harry takes one last second, somehow knowing that they would have the rest of forever for moments like these.

"We've got scars on our future hearts, but we'll never look back."

Harry hums, quoting one of his favorite muggle songs, "Old Scars and Future Hearts" by All Time Low before allowing Draco to press him up against his desk, pushing all those papers aside.

Hey everyone!

Okay, so truth be told, I had a direction for this piece to go in but I have long ago forgotten what direction was and have really out of ideas, therefore this will be the LAST chapter. As always, there will be an epilogue chapter, but I'm sorry for those of you who feel cheated! Truth be told, I think I was gonna do this whole long, drawn out thing, but I was thinking about it today and decided that I didn't want to go that route. (Not to mention I have a way better story idea that I'm DYING to write out, so yeah. I know, I'm a horrible human being.)

Anyways, what did you think of this chapter? Did you like it? Pretty please leave your thoughts (and let me know what YOUR favorite flavor of the jelly slugs is! I agree with Harry, watermelon ftw) !

A major thank you to lilly-flower15, ragsweas, thatwritermadeofpotatoes, fandomflier15, and the guest who all commented on the last chapter! I'm so glad you enjoyed it!

I feel like I'm talking your ear off, so I'll be going soon. I just want to give you a hint as to what my next chapter story will be because I am so excited for it: "When I say Vol, you say Tron! Vol-!" "Vol-tron?" (that's not in the piece, it's the show. (or maybe it is in the piece? Read to find out!)) Anyways, until next time!

Much love and stuff,

-ImmaSlytherout