"Did she just —"

Harry nods and shoves the heels of his hands into his eyes. "Yes. She did. Damn it."

"Aunt Andr —"

"If you even so much as consider having a go at me for shining a light for that girl, Draco Lucius Malfoy, so help me Circe, I will have your mother here so fast —"

Draco holds his hands up in surrender and frowns weakly. "Wouldn't dream of it. I was only going to suggest that there may have been a more delicate manner in which —"

"Oh, bollocks, Draco!" Harry roars and slams his hands down on the table. He shoves himself up and leans forward, his head hanging down to his chest. "We've royally fucked up! I've royally fucked up! Damn it!"

Draco glances at Andromeda who has something of a little sly smirk on her face. She tilts her head as of to tell him to tend to Harry, and so he does. His hand lies flat on the small of Harry's back, fingers caressing small patterns to ease the tension. The slightest movement has Harry leaning further into Draco's touch and the raven haired wizard lifts his head. He takes one hand and runs it roughly through his hair. It pokes out everywhere and Draco has every urge to smooth it down again.

"Potter. This isn't going to be some quick fix. She has every right to be –"

"Yes, I'm aware, thank you," he says through gritted molars. "Surely, my intentions were enough to –"

"The path to Hell is paved with good intentions." Andromeda meets Draco's eye and he's suddenly overcome with the realization that the Black sisters are more similar than they are different. He's sure he's heard his mother say those exact words to Lucius.

Draco blinks and tries to encourage Harry to stand up and face him. When he maneuvers himself toe to toe with Draco, his eyes are downcast to their feet and a frown tugs at his lips. Everything else – Andromeda, the children, Tink popping in and out of the room – disappears. It's him and it's Harry facing down their problems much like they've done together for the past year.

"Dwelling on every wrong choice isn't going to make it better." Draco puts a finger under Harry's chin and tilts his head up to catch his gaze. "What you – we – need to do is be clear about our intentions and explain ourselves."

"Isn't that we've just done?" A notch forms between Harry's dark brows. Draco grabs his hand and toys with his fingers. "Draco, I don't think she's going to forgive me for this. How am I any better than Ron? I –"

"Boys, boys, boys…" Andromeda stands from her seat and while her stature is so much smaller than Draco's, her voice is mighty and brokers no room for argument. Her hands rest on top of their shoulders and her thumbs dig into the flesh there. "Making presumptions as to how this is going to end will do you no good – either of you. Draco is right, you must explain yourselves but more than that, you need to give her a choice."

"She did have a choice." Harry exclaims and Draco finally realizes that he's not mad; he's close to tears. He's never witnessed this from Potter and it makes him uncomfortable. Draco tugs Harry's hand to his chest and curls their fingers together over his heart. "We might have only presented her with limited options, but –"

"It doesn't work that way," Draco whispers as his fingers slip around Harry's neck and his thumb strokes the sharp stubble on his jaw. "Aunt Andromeda is right, love. We expected her to fall into this with us because we crafted it that way. Don't you want to know if she'd choose it if we hadn't created the circumstances for her?"

Harry tilts his face into Draco's hand. "No."

Draco smiles. Fucking Boy Wonder and his petulance. He loves him for it, but Salazar Slytherin have mercy on him, Draco's more like Harry Potter than he'd ever care to admit. "Come on, Potter. That's not the right answer."

He groans and rests his forehead on Draco's shoulder and Andromeda's hands fall away from them. "Aren't you worried that she's not going to choose us?"

The words are so muffled by Draco's shirt that he can barely make them out. Draco breathes a laugh through his nose. His Potter is so dramatic at times, but fuck if he doesn't love him more for it. Highly irritating.

"Of course." Draco glances to his aunt over Harry's head. She's watching them so closely from her heavy lidded eyes.. It feels like she knows something, but she's not saying it. Draco drops his gaze from her and forces Harry to look at him again. "But that's why it has to be her choice. We aren't Weasley. You'll let her go if she so desires it."

"And you – are you willing to let her go?" Harry's voice is hoarse and his lips are pulled down and Draco has to stop himself from kissing the sadness away. "You've only just discovered how you feel for her."

Draco licks his lips and ducks his chin. "I've become a sort of connoisseur of facing the consequences of my actions, Potter. If she can't forgive me, then I can't very well force her into it, can I?"

"If I might offer a small suggestion?" Andromeda's voice is filled with the type of tone that says she's going to offer the suggestion whether they want her to or not. "Ted and Gideon were not overly fond of one another. Gideon's temper was, well, rather fierce. Ted –"

She's got a reminiscent smile on her face. Her gaze drifts off someplace Draco can't see.

"Ted was my levelheaded Hufflepuff. A simmering flame who could have been shadowed by the ferocity of Gideon. Everything was a competition. Who could love me more, who could love me better, who could… well." She snorts a slight laugh and her eyes flick between Harry and Draco. "It was rather off-putting. I found myself being pulled in directions that did not feel natural to me, all for the sake of their egos."

"This has nothing to do with our egos," Draco points out shortly. His hands are still caressing small circles against Harry's jaw and his hand. Harry is still in his arms. "We aren't competing. If anything, we're trying to win her over."

"But don't you see, Draco?" Andromeda's tone is firmer, she's staring him hard in the eyes. "There is no competition to be had for her heart. If she loves you, if she enters this relationship as your paramour, it will not be the circumstances you've built around her. It will be because her soul cannot possibly stand to exist without yours. It – it burns for you."

"The soul isn't swayed by its circumstances," Draco murmurs as he rests his chin against the top of Harry's head.

"Exactly." Andromeda nods and tilts her head toward Harry. "It doesn't matter what circumstances you cultivated. Much the same as when Ted and Gideon pulled and pushed to have me closer to either of them, eventually the soul – the magic of us – won out. I thought maybe they'd kill each other in the end, but when they touched for the first time…"

Her eyes glaze over and Draco feels indecent watching her face heat up at the cheeks.

"We should allow her to see us love each other." It's Harry who finishes Andromeda's thought. "We saw it the other day when we were on the settee. Remember how it felt with her, when she watched us, when we kissed her?"

"She needs the choice to join us together," Draco agrees, his thoughts lingering on the way that Hermione felt beneath his lips, the heat of her touch, the lament he felt when they pulled away from one another. But the way her eyes lingered on them when they'd kissed – it sent flares of heat through Draco's body. "We've been so focused on pulling her to us separately."

"The triad always comes first," Andromeda says with a small smile. "If she chooses to join you, it will be because it's meant to be and not because you've orchestrated the proper environment. But you need her to see how organic your love is for one another, how it makes your magic positively glow, and how she can fit with you."

Andromeda pulls Harry away from Draco and he's immediately bereft without Potter's warmth.

"Her choice isn't about kissing you or falling in love with either of you. You can create the perfect conditions, you can give her Amortentia if you so please, but if she cannot integrate into your lives, if she cannot choose to be part of your relationship, there's no amount of Amortentia that will make her fit with you."

"We need to apologize," Harry whispers. His eyes are bright again, determined, and Draco can feel the thrum of confidence emanating from him. "I need to tell her I'm sorry. And then we can… what? Snog a little?"

Draco snorts – can't help himself. "Eloquent as ever, Boy Wonder. Perhaps we'll allow her a chance to forgive us. See if it's even possible? I don't believe that rushing into anything is what will help. We need her home first."

"Home." Harry nods resolutely. "I'll put out a missive to the department and try to locate –"

"Potter." Draco grips his hand as Harry starts to move away from him with the haste only an auror would have. He yanks him back and Harry falls into his chest. "Allow her time, love. She needs to work out her feelings. If you go chasing after her Full Auror –"

Harry breathes deep and juts his chin. "Alright, fine. What do you suggest then? Sit here in the comfort of our home and wait for her to show up again? What if she's out there and something happens to her?"

"She's a capable witch, in case you've forgotten," Andromeda pipes in. "I'll take the children to my home tonight. Teddy will like the company and I think you have enough to work out."

"I know she's capable, but with everything happening with the Lestrange –"

"Lestrange is dead," Draco reminds Harry.

"One Lestrange is dead," Harry argues with hard eyes. "The other has been gone since before the end of the war. We don't know who broke into the house and –"

"There is absolutely no indication that whomever broke through Rodolphus' wards was Rabastan, nor that Hermione is in any danger."

Draco watches as Harry's face flies through various arguments, counterpoints, and possibilities that haven't been explored yet. Being an auror – and even being The Boy Who Lived and the Chosen One – had created quite the protective, worried auror in Potter. If he's honest with himself, Draco adores the way that Harry thinks he can keep him safe. On the outside, however, Draco pointedly reminds Harry that he's not the only person with a wicked wand technique.

"She's my best friend, Draco. She's absolutely in danger of death eaters all of the time."

The words hurt, but Draco shoves them away. He doesn't mean it, of course he doesn't, but there's still a raw ache when they sit in his thoughts for a second longer than they're welcome. He thinks Harry might know because he's gone silent and his wide, green eyes are seem to be on him and waiting for something.

"The war is over." Draco shrugs. Deflection, cold indifference; perhaps the war isn't as over as he likes to pretend it is.

"I didn't do enough to protect her before," Harry continues, despite Draco's reluctance to talk about it. "Not from the war, not from Ron."

"You can't possibly protect her every second of your life." Draco's tone is dry, each word chosen carefully and slowly. "She will, however, become stronger with us. You've noticed how her magic has changed. What we need to do is allow her time to think, return to us, and then we'll grovel at her feet."

"The boy finally gets it." Andromeda pats each of them on the arm. "I shall take my leave, gentlemen. I do hope your witch returns to you tonight. If I see her before you do, I'll send an owl."

Harry and Draco each peck Andromeda on the cheek before she takes off through the house to hunt down all of the children. Draco is constantly amazed at her ability to handle them all, but she's a formidable witch. He wouldn't ever cross her path and he's sure that the children can sense it. Either that or she keeps them plied with pie and promises of sugar should they behave. Harry glances at him and Draco's lips lift at the corners. There's still a pang in his chest that's lingering from his comment about the war and the death eaters, but the way that Harry's eyes light up when their gazes meet helps to melt that cold feeling away.

It might never disappear, but his wizard certainly makes it better. After everything he's been through in his life, that's all Draco can ask for.

Draco's not sure how much time passes between Andromeda and the children leaving and being wrapped up in Harry's arms on the settee. All he knows is that he's needed this for ages and it feels so bloody right.

"I've missed you." Draco pulls Harry's hand to his lips and places a light kiss against the back of it. "You need a holiday."

Harry laughs and tugs Draco even closer. Their lips connect immediately and Harry takes control of the kiss. Draco's eyes are just beginning to close and Harry's tongue slips between his lips when the room around them erupts in a brilliant, bright blue. For a moment, Draco wonders if it's his magic, but then he hears a familiar voice ring through the room.

"Auror Potter." The voice was quieter than a whisper and there were loud noises clanking with it, like there was a party in the background.

Harry pulls away and his eyes dart around the room until it lands on a small, blue turtle in the middle of the room. Harry's form is stricken and Draco can practically hear his brain whirring with panic.

"Amadeus." Harry whispers and crosses the room to the patronus.

"You asked me to alert you if Ron Weasley ever came to the pub. He's here – I think he's been here a while, but he's wearing a cloak and Merlin, he doesn't look good, Potter."

Amadeus is quiet, but in the background, they can hear her voice.

"Your mum is worried sick. Harry has the aurors looking for you. Where were you?"

Draco and Harry lock eyes. Draco's heart is slamming in his chest and he feels as pale as Harry looks. They hadn't heard anything from Weasley since the evening he went missing and now the night that Hermione is alone again, he's there with her? In a pub, in Surrey, by just pure coincidence?

Draco swallows. Harry rises to his feet from the place just in front of the blue, translucent turtle.

A resounding crack fills the room.

Draco watches the space that Harry disappeared from for only a moment before he steps forward, turns on the spot, and disapparates away. If something happens to her after he's convinced Harry not to go looking for her, he'll never forgive himself.