A/N: Hey everyone! I've been chewing this chapter along for a while, I think I've revised it six different ways, and this is the version that me and my sister finally liked the best. So there are literally six versions of this chapter on my drive, isn't that mad? Too much of a Ravenclaw, that's me. Groan. Anyway, moving along. I'm writing a little series now for Christmas, I dunno where it's going to go. It's AS/S, post-Hogwarts, following them during a bad period, as people who were once alike and who are now total opposites. I think it's going to be a really quick, sort series, about 5 parts. We'll see, cross fingers.

Chapter 25:

Harry was going to be ill.

Downstairs, Hermione, Andromeda, and Ron were dangling soft black and white toys over Rosie's collapsible cradle; while George was trying to figure out how to test his new Constipation Choccies on Percy. In the shed in the garden, Charlie was telling Bill all about innovations in pen warding in Romania; while Mr. Weasley proudly displayed all of his new additions to his biro collection to all. Everyone was socializing- it was the bloody holidays, after all- everyone except for Harry. Harry was going to be ill. Harry was going to be ill in Ron's old bedroom, staring up at Quidditch players who had long quit their careers due to potions usage, or old age.

Harry's stomach churned. Maybe staring up at the lurid posters wasn't his best move, all things considered.

"Come on, Potter," Harry mumbled to himself, in what was the dullest tone he had ever mustered after fifth year. "Now or never, old Gryffindor. Come along."

But Harry still couldn't get the spell cast- had he been this nervous before the Final Battle? Harry couldn't quite remember as well as he used to, but he didn't think so. Back then Harry had had the confidence of youth on his side, or perhaps, more honestly, it was the certainty that he was going to die. Now that Harry's life was most definitely not in jeopardy, he only had to face Draco. Lovely.

Harry leaned away from his hips, and rolling onto his side, he pulled out the ring box from his pocket. It shimmered magically, denoting it's force, but Harry couldn't sense the comforting magical core, as it was his own hair in this band. All that Harry was felt was the butterflies in his stomach, fluttering to the beat of what if Draco says no? Harry swallowed and closed the box, and took a fortifying breath. Someone downstairs said something and the others cheered in response. Harry knew that he had to get back down there and stand by Draco's side- the Weasleys were more friendly to Draco because of his assistance with Hermione's delivery of Rosie, but things could go bad quickly.

There were steps on the stairs. Harry sat up quickly, trying to look as nonchalant as possible, which he was sure he did not achieve, especially since his hand shook as he ran it through his hair.

"Hey mate," Ron said, noticing Harry alone in what had been his old room. "What are you doing up here? You should be downstairs celebrating by now."

Celebrating? Celebrating what?

"The Cannons are up twenty points," Ron continued obliviously, sitting down and shifting the old, thin mattress. Harry felt his stomach shift with the rise and fall of the bed. "You're going to do it, aren't you?"

"Nerves," Harry admitted grimly, with a shrug. "Now I know what you felt like on your wedding day."

"And if you propose," Ron teased. "You'd have to go through the cold feet all over again."

"Cold feet?" George said, peeking into the room. Great. "What is Ron reliving his glory days for- oy, Harry what's that?"

Harry covered the ring box on his lap, but it was too late. George's eyes lit up with an unholy malevolence.

"Merlin and Morgana," George whispered. "I knew our Harry wasn't the brightest lumos ever casted, but this takes it to another level. Are you actually thinking of proposing to Malfoy this Yule? In this house?"

"No, he's proposing to torch the WWW," Ron snorted. "Of course it's Malfoy, you dumb arse. Now go away if you're going to take the piss, because Harry doesn't need you starting in on that lot downstairs and causing a riot-"

"A riot?" Bill stuck the tip of his scarred chin into the doorway before edging his boot and then his whole body into the room. "Are you inciting a riot? What kind of Auror are you?"

"A lousy one, clearly," Ron sighed dramatically, trying against Fate to get his older brother out of his bedroom. "What are you looking for, Bill?"

"George," Bill pursed his mouth. "Mum wants him to teach her how to set the charms on the camera, so that she can take photographs whilst still being in the pictures. Anyway. You don't actually think I believe your riot act, do you? What are you planning, Weasley?"

"Me?" George could look innocent. Then again, he had had a lifetime to perfect that glance. "Oh nothing, nothing. Ask Harry about it. I think you'll be amazed. Actually Harry, why don't you practice on Bill?"

Ron had his wand out. Harry felt nauseous again.

"Ron, put that away, you'll poke your eyes out," Bill stated blandly. "So Malfoy, then. Malfoy, then."

"You're taking this well," George frowned as if Bill was the final post before the alley of altruism. "Did Fleur prepare those dragon flanks Charlie sent over?"

"Extra-rare," Bill glared back, nearly shoving George off the cot as he took a seat. "They were lovely, thanks for asking. But I don't have to be worried about Harry, unlike you. Harry hasn't proposed. If he proposes, Malfoy still has to say yes. If Malfoy says yes, then they still have to agree on the ceremony details, which I doubt they will. And if all that happens, which we'll wait and see about- well, by that time, it will be years down the line. I'm just not bothered. Yet."

Harry was gnashing his teeth. "Bill?"

"Hmm?" Bill smiled evenly, and Harry had the decency to lose his nerve. "Something wrong?"

"You lot are in my way," Harry narrowed his eyes at everyone, collectively. "I have to go downstairs. And it won't take years. And I'm happy you're not bothered- I hope you'll keep on being not bothered, then."

Harry was so set on brushing back his hair in the old glass that he didn't notice Bill collect six gold coins from his two brothers.

Draco was holding Baby Rosie.

Harry hadn't accounted for that. In all of Harry's fantasies about the proposal, Draco had been sitting apart from the Weasleys, waiting for Harry to come back, the fairy lights from the tree shining down on his cinnamon brown hair. Harry hadn't really thought this whole proposal through properly, and now the fear had returned full force. Everyone was watching. Well, not everyone. George was talking to Angelina, probably telling her what had gone on. Bill was also busy pretending not to watch; and had taken a sudden and deep interest in a toy that Teddy and Louis were struggling with. Where had Ron gone- if Harry needed back up- ah, he had gotten a drink. Smart wizard.

Right.

Draco looked at Harry curiously, and when Hermione outstretched her arms for Rosie, Draco handed over the baby without much fuss and took a seat on Mrs. Weasley's saggy old seat beside Teddy.

"Harry," Draco said, making room. "Why don't you sit down- Teddy was going to show us his new exploding snap set."

"Don't you want to see your gift from me?" Harry asked. Harry had practiced that line in his head too, over and over, but it hadn't mattered- his voice had still shook a bit.

"Alright," Draco shrugged, with the nonchalance that only a spoilt Slytherin could manage. "I thought we had left our presents at home. I didn't bring yours with me."

"It's okay," Harry said, and he caught Ron's discreet wink out of the corner of his eye. With a prayer to the same gods that had gotten him out of the Dursleys home and to Hogwarts; Harry took in a deep breath and fished out the small red and gold box that the shop witch had given him what felt like years ago. Harry knelt down and Draco's eyes grew comically large.

"Draco," Harry said, forcing his voice to come out evenly. "I love you more than anything- erm- more than anything in the world, really. So I was wondering if you would please bond with me?"

"Oh," Draco said, opening his mouth, and exposing the uneven bottom teeth Harry loved to trace his tongue across. "Oh."

Harry smiled and pulled out the ring and slipped it on Draco's clenched finger. Draco's face became radiant with joy- he looked as though he had drank a potion to achieve that level of happiness. Then, abruptly, he covered his face with his hands and his whole body shook once-twice- and then Draco got up and flung himself at Harry. The extra weight toppled Harry over from his crouched position, and they nearly crashed into Rosie's collapsible cradle, but thankfully someone accio'd it out of the way- Harry saw that much out of the corner of his eye.

"Slytherin move," Draco laughed, punching Harry on the arm as he leaned over Harry's body. "What's in that ring?"

"Magic, Malfoy," Harry snarked, relieved and amused in equal measure. "Is this a yes, then?"

"Yes, Potter," Draco whispered, bending down to kiss Harry, and around him the Weasleys burst into a cascade of muted excitement. "I surrender."

It was the best Yule of Harry's life. Draco was wearing his ring. Hermione thought the band was fascinating, and Harry was sure she would probably take it soon to debunk the magical myths contained in the small hoop. On the other side of the pitch; Bill, George, Fleur, and all the lukewarm Weasleys were thawing a tad now that they saw that Draco was an irrevocable part of Harry's life. No one was exchanging hugs or anything beyond polite conversation, but this was far beyond anything Harry could have imagined a just a year ago. And of course the children were enchanted by Yule- Teddy, Victoire, baby Rosie, and all the rest had loved all their gifts; and were busy setting off pranks, or asking exhausted adults to spell together toys.

Harry had never thought it was possible to be this happy; in fact when he had begun to date Draco he had thought that he would have had to divide his happiness up and parcel it out, not have it all at once, in vast quantities like this. Harry turned to Draco at his side and brushed his leg against Draco's.

"Happy, Potter?" Draco said- no, his fiancé said.

Harry beamed and took another sip of his mulled cider. It was rather strong, and he was well on the way to getting drunk. Harry brushed a clumsy hand through Draco's hair and couldn't help but fantasize about the very remote possibility of sneaking away for a shag. There was a bit of trees and some bush- but Draco Malfoy didn't shag on the grass. Harry had learned that the hard way.

Draco leaned his head on Harry's shoulder. "Stop undressing me with your eyes," Draco said, reading Harry's mind. "Especially with your ex in the room."

Ginny was here. Harry hadn't noticed her arrival in the commotion of the Yule festivities. It looked as though she had just arrived, with Nott and her two tiny children in tow. Poor little Nero and Claudia- the little doxies always looked so underfed on account of their father, and Mrs. Weasley was always trying to fatten them up, quite unsuccessfully. Ginny looked pale, and for a moment that worried Harry, but the extravagance of her fur-trimmed robes soon distracted him. The saying referring to a silk purse and a sow's ear sprang to mind.

"Fox fur," Draco drawled, the ice in his drink clinking together as he took another sip. "Cost more than my salary as a teacher for a year. Bloody waste that. What does it warm? A neck? New money. Nott should know better."

"She has a lot to prove," Harry snorted, stroking Draco's leg idly. Shag. "To herself, anyway. I'm so happy, Malfoy."

Draco touched the band on his finger with his thumb, and then puffed up visibly. Harry smirked to himself- there was going to be a clear delineation in Draco's ego size- before the engagement, and after.

Harry woke up to a lazy and happy Boxing Day.

Teddy had wanted to stay over with Harry and Draco to see Harry's Yule gift, which had been rather lovely, as Harry had never actually had Teddy for himself an entire Yule. Teddy, of course, had very much enjoyed the new wireless that Draco had saved up to buy with the gold from the sale of the Darby home- even though it was supposed to be Harry's gift. It had taken nearly half of last night; but Harry and Draco had managed to get the new wireless, and it's massive sound charms to work in and around the old magic of Grimmauld Place, and then Teddy had happily listened to a program with far more violence than even Harry was comfortable with.

That night, after Teddy had gone to bed dreaming of blasting hexes, Harry and Draco had slipped in to bed together and had turned the sheets over each other's heads. They had both been a bit wobbly from the endless reluctant Weasley toasts; so they had had to shh each other constantly to keep from waking Teddy. It was then that Harry's fantasy from earlier in the day was finally fulfilled, though not as spectacularly as Harry had envisioned. In Harry's mind, he had been a commanding and resourceful lover, willing to slay any enemy for Draco. In reality, it wasn't five minutes that he engulfed in the warm cavern of Draco's mouth, before he was biting down on his bottom lip to keep from shouting into the sheets.

In the morning light, Harry smiled and stretched in the bed. Draco was up already- probably getting Teddy his Wizard Oh's, or reading. This was going to be the rest of his life- perfect, forever.

Harry took a quick shower and made his way downstairs. Teddy was sitting glued in front of the wireless as though he was afraid that if he blinked the object would Disapparate. Harry sighed. "Morning Ted," Harry said seriously. "Where's your cousin?"

"Study," Teddy said, cocking his lemon-yellow head toward the general direction of the library. "He made waffles."

Harry grinned- Teddy got waffles, and Harry had gotten what he had gotten last night. Draco was happy.

Draco was hunched over a heavy looking tome, and he was shaking his head. "I wonder if Tory knows that you can nullify results by the same method as the cross-cancellation theorem? I've got to Floo over and talk to her."

"Draco," Harry said reasonably. "It's Boxing Day."

"Oh yes," Draco smiled. "That's why it's the idea time to modify the results! If you do things why the Ministry is sleeping you can catch all kinds of mathematical errors and you won't lose any time. But if you try to file during the work week all you get are these awful bureaucratic bottom feeders that leech off of decent citizens and then you get the type of situation as what happened at Dismal Alley-"

"Isn't that an extreme generalization?" Harry said, annoyed because under that typecasting as a Ministry employee he too would be a bottom feeder whose job was to endlessly file paperwork and waste gold.

Draco beamed brightly and kissed Harry's cheek; reaching for his enormous text. "Remind me to revisit this conversation with you, Harry; you've gotten a perspective that we haven't tapped yet. But I really must go."

"Really, darling?" Harry groaned, adopting what he hoped was a pathetic expression. "Can't you save it for tomorrow?"

"How many times I wish I'd told you that," Draco smiled, dodging Harry's slap. "No, I'll be back before tea, honestly. If I miss this it'll be a disaster- Astoria won't keep me long, I'm not Smith. I'll be right back, really."

Harry went to the kitchen and heated up the waffles a little bit miserably with his wand. Draco had made cinnamon-banana waffles and Harry wished that Draco was here with him to eat them, or at least hear his praise. Harry accio'd down the syrup and mentally shook himself. Draco had made waffles, eggs, tea and even a roast a hundred times before, and would live to do so again, touch wand. They would be married, and Harry really needed to stop being morose just because Draco sometimes enjoyed his career more than sitting at home- in fact Draco's career left him more free time than Harry's.

Harry took his plate of waffles and sat down on the sofa across from Teddy. Teddy looked at Harry and raised his chin in acknowledgment before returning to his mid-morning programs.

"Draco went off on some study rot?" Teddy said during the adverts.

"It's not rot," Harry protested firmly. "Your cousin is doing something very serious and important. And you shouldn't even be talking like that."

"Wish he was here," Teddy shrugged, ignoring Harry's scolding- Harry hated when he did that, but it seemed that in a positive or negative way Draco had more of an influence on his godson than Harry did. Draco disagreed and said that Harry was just being overemotional, but sometimes Harry wondered if being absent for bits of Teddy's first year of life had damaged their relationship.

"Me too," Harry sighed, swirling a bit of waffle in the syrup and then biting it. "But he'll be home for tea, or if not definitely for dinner. Do you want to play with your new chess set, do you think?"

"Alright," Teddy perked up, turning off the wireless.

Teddy's new chess set had shining new figures etched in marble, but instead of charmed caricatures out of a fiefdom, it contained criminals and Aurors. None of the criminals looked like any criminals Harry had ever seen during his years on the force-some of them had hunchbacks and others were dressed in black robes with the symbol for gold on the large bags that they were carrying. All of the male Aurors, of course, had a remarkable resemblance to Harry Potter.

Harry was part-way getting through being throttled by his godson when the wards warped. When no one immediately came through to the study upstairs, Harry felt his sixth sense take notice. "Stay here." Harry told Teddy seriously.

Harry practically jumped down the stairs with his wand half out of his holster, but when he reached the landing he realized how utterly foolish he was being. Grimmauld Place was still under fidelus, and no one could enter beyond their small circle of 'family'. Including Narcissa Malfoy.

She was seated primly on the earthy sofa that Hermione had picked out for Harry all those years ago when Ron, Harry, Hermione and Ginny had started the renovations on Grimmauld Place. Mrs. Malfoy sniffed and picked up one of Draco's Egyptian throws- Harry had the sudden, perverse urge to tell her that her son had picked those out in order to seen her pompous expression fall.

"Mrs. Malfoy," Harry said uncomfortably- Teddy was in the house and Harry had no desire for a scene. "How are you?"

"Very well," Mrs. Malfoy's mouth pursed and she looked almost amused. "And you are not a good liar, Mr. Potter. Is my son at home?"

"No," Harry said shortly. "Would you like to leave him a message or wait for him?"

"Not at all," Mrs. Malfoy sighed. "I have a Portkey for within the hour to Paris. I only wanted to speak to you, Mr. Potter. I know I have been . . . remiss in my duties as a parent, but one day, Mr. Potter, you and my son will have children through whatever means and you will come to see that it is a very difficult job, indeed. You do remember the war, and the choices I made, Harry Potter?"

"Yes," Harry said, biting his lip. He had no idea what Draco's odd mother would want from him. Harry wasn't sure if Mrs. Malfoy was binding him to an oath, or reminding him of what he owed her. Harry couldn't help but dislike that, even though he knew he ought to grateful. Draco. for all his faults, had never made Grimmauld Place feel as though it was a bedsit.

"Then this is all I ask you: never break a promise to my son, Mr. Potter. And never make a promise that you can not keep." Narcissa Malfoy looked almost regretful. "He's had enough of that for one lifetime."

"Are you sure you don't want to stay for tea?" Harry asked, feeling guilty now. "Draco should be home soon."

"No," Mrs. Malfoy looked up the stairs where Teddy watched her curiously. "This house belongs to another family now."