A/N: As always, thank you all! I love you guys! I'm sorry the chapters have started to be so spaced out, with the start of school I've had a lot of trouble, but hopefully I can round this story out before I have to get a job, when I will have even less time!
For the first time, Harry saw something other than fear and loneliness shining from Raiden's silver eyes as he spoke of his father. The boy seemed to have been infused with new life, a spirit of hope and contentment that had not been present before. Harry was thrilled to see it.
"He explained everything to me, Harry," Raiden gushed, trying in vain to hide his excitement. "And I believe him, I believe what he says. He… I've never seen my father beg before, and he was begging for my forgiveness, my understanding. I could see the regret in his eyes, the sorrow and the longing. He seemed so… so unlike himself as of late, more like the man I used to know: kind, emotional, loving. He told me that my grandfather threatened to kill me if Father didn't change his ways, didn't become his model son. And he said that he wouldn't be able to live with himself if by giving in to pride and reason he cost me my life. And I think… I think he's telling the truth. He told me that since I was the only thing that mattered to him his father attacked that love, and turned it against him. But he didn't really betray his morals. He did what his father told him, to an extent. But when he was meant to help torture the Order members he was away, and had to convince his father to hold off until he was back, spouting some lies about what he told you, that he wanted you to know that it was your fault. But he faked their deaths. And then after, he wanted to return to the way things were but he said that I didn't want anything to do with him. He said that I hated him. Which wasn't true. But I'll admit that… after… after Theo, I wasn't entirely welcoming to Father's attentions. I blamed him for the marks on my back as well as the marks on my heart. And I suppose I shut him out to try to prevent myself being hurt again." The joy faded from Raiden's eyes as he thought about his part in the schism with his father. "It was my fault he had to be this way these last few years. I turned my back on him the same way he did to me, only it was my choice. I'm amazed that he is able to forgive me."
Harry wiped a tear away from Raiden's eyes with his thumb, cupping the youth's face to pull him against himself. He wrapped his arms around the mournful youth and clucked. "Raiden, Raiden, don't blame yourself. You were young and you were wounded, you reacted in a way that is only natural. You were abandoned by the one person you thought would be there for you, and you sought protection behind the walls you had to erect. There is no way your father could blame you for trying to protect yourself. He tried to do the same thing. Do not fret, Raiden, you and your father are now at an understanding. You can still salvage your relationship. He is, apparently, a good man. As much as it seems weird for me to say," Harry admitted.
Raiden pulled away and met Harry's eyes, silver meeting green in perfect understanding. "I bet it is a lot to take in, suddenly feeling like you should be indebted to the one man you've let yourself hate for so long."
Harry allowed a small smile. "You're too perceptive by half," he muttered, and ruffled Raiden's hair. "Am I that transparent?"
Raiden chuckled through the thickness in his throat that was easing with every word Harry spoke. "No, I just…" Raiden's voice trailed off. There were no words needed. They were in perfect sync. How do you tell someone that you feel like you can see into their soul?
Harry bit his lip. "Yeah. I… it's hard. I don't know how to react. I've felt so much hatred, pain, fear, sorrow, for so long, that to suddenly have none of it, it's overwhelming. I have lost no one. Yet I have mourned for five years. To be honest," Harry sighed. "I feel a little ridiculous. If I hadn't kept myself so very secluded I would have known years ago the truth. But…"
Harry swallowed his next words as the Healers bustled in, all hives of activity and glee, thrilled that they were part of the rediscovery and recovery of The Harry Potter. They all had a kind word to offer him, and all had stories to share. Harry smiled and nodded as they chatted away, the whole while watching to gauge Raiden's reaction. If the boy was to be around him, he would probably have to get accustomed to Harry getting this type of attention, at least for the time being.
Raiden smiled and laughed with the Healers, perfectly at ease around all the activity. He even gained his fair share of audience, his charms melting the Healers and making them eager to ensure his comfort as well. The one who had been answering his summons was there, giving him grins and patting his shoulders.
But neither Raiden nor Harry noticed the man who slipped into the room with the hive of Healers who was no such thing. He looked from behind shuttered eyes as the pair of patients (for the Healers were certainly hovering over Raiden as though he were a patient) laughed and teased, acting as though they hadn't a care in the world. Draco's eyes watched attentively, wanting desperately to make his presence known, yet so very afraid to do just that. He wanted to treasure Harry's happiness as long as he could before disrupting it.
The Healers, having completed the tests they had to run and renewed Harry's treatments, bustled out, and Draco slipped out with them, Harry and his son none the wiser.
Harry grinned at Raiden. "I think you've made some fans," he teased, and the younger man scoffed.
"I did not! They're just very nice."
"Riight," Harry drawled, chucking Raiden beneath the chin. "You're a regular Malfoy, I'll tell you that."
Raiden grinned, for the first time in so long letting himself be proud to be compared to his father. "What can I say," he returned good-naturedly. "I am my father's son."
Harry woke up hours later, sleep still tugging at his mind but determined to overcome it. Something felt different. Something was wrong.
He forced his eyes open and scanned the room quickly. The room had been darkened because both he and Raiden had been asleep. So what had awoken him? Raiden's breath was soft and steady, and there were no alarms or unusual noises anywhere else in the building. None that he could hear, anyway. So what had made him shrug off his sleep potions and wake up? Just a feeling? An emotion?
Harry's eyes fell on the sleeping youth and he found his answer.
The others' face was drawn and held the weight of exhaustion, and his silver hair shone like unicorn's blood in the moonlight. Harry's hand reached out seemingly with a mind of its own and drew a lock of that brilliant hair into his fingers, letting the silken threads slide through his grasp and savoring the texture.
That hair which was far too pale to be young Raiden's.
Draco came awake with a start, his eyes flying wide when he realized Harry had caught him. He had come into the room thinking that Harry would be asleep for much longer because of the potions, but had certainly not intended to fall asleep. He had just wanted to watch the dark one sleep, assuring himself that he had done the right thing and that Harry was alive and well. But having been so tense and so nervous for so long he had been unable to sleep, until the moment when he had reclined in the chair to watch Harry sleep. He'd wanted for so long to be able to watch steady breathing lift Harry's chest, wanted for so long to be able to watch Harry rest in peace, without the nightmares to torment him. And now that he had succeeded, he intended to savor it. Alas, sleep had overwhelmed his exhausted frame, and the nights without sleeping had assaulted him with a vengeance. He had slept.
He stood carefully, watching Harry's eyes for any signs of recognition or fury. The dark one had no reason to trust him completely. Harry had no reason to be forgiving, despite his hatred being unfounded for the reasons he thought. Draco was still responsible for the four year self-imposed exile Harry had been made to endure. Draco was the one who had failed to inform the other of his plans to save the others.
Yet there was no hatred in Harry's peaceful eyes.
Perhaps, Draco thought with mingling relief and dismay, Harry was mistaking him for his son, who looked so much like himself?
"You do not have to leave yet," Harry murmured, his voice unsure and low. Draco froze, trying in vain to find words.
"I understand everything more fully now, and do not blame you for what happened. I was the one who was too stubborn to listen to reason."
So Harry knew who he was.
Briefly Draco wondered if he was dreaming, but discounted that quickly. If he had been dreaming, he would have flung himself into Harry's open arms by then.
"I am willing to listen, if you are willing to talk," Harry drawled, his voice gaining a teasing lilt. He was challenging Draco's continued silence. "Or perhaps you simply want me to draw my own conclusions on the matter?"
Draco finally managed to unstick his tongue and stutter out a response. "You're awake," he blurted dumbly, and winced. His voice exploded through the silent room like a gun blast.
Harry smiled, nodding. Draco could see the temptation to laugh dancing in the dark one's eyes.
"I'm sorry," Draco muttered, lowering his voice. He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry," he repeated, and licked his lips. "I don't know what you want me to say."
"Tell me that you didn't betray all of those people."
Draco let out a pained choke. "I didn't. I didn't betray anyone but that man who called himself my father. I would never…" he bit his words back, afraid of saying them, then knew that it was too late for fear, too selfish to let his fears hide the truth. "I would never betray you, Harry. I never wanted to see you hurt. It was my father, you have to know it was my father. He… I had to think about ou… my son. I had to protect Raiden. And by protecting him, I had to neglect him, and I had to regain my reputation as a bastard. I…"
"Who is his mother?" Harry bit out, and Draco felt the weight of bitterness and pain slam into him. He lowered his head.
"I can't tell you that right now, Harry. I'm sorry. But I just don't see how it's…"
"You were supposed to be with me when you were apparently off filling some woman with your son. You told me that you…"
"Don't you dare!" Draco snapped, fury licking at his mind and heart. "You don't understand what I'm saying!"
"No, I understand. You're saying you were ashamed of me, of us. You were ashamed of being yourself, or was it that you were leading me on? I never wanted anything from you, Draco, save honesty, and I wanted you to be there for me. I never expected you to proclaim yourself as my lover. We never were that, were we? So what, pray tell, were we? Were we just friends? Because I would have been fine with that, damn it, if you had only been honest with me! I never wanted to be more with you, I never needed anything but your love as a friend, but when we became a bit more, that was even better. I could have lived as being your friend just as I could have lived as being your… your… I don't even know what to call what you pretended we were! But then you snuck behind my back, and… had a son with this woman, this woman who you loved so much when your son asked you of her you turned inward. You snuck around and didn't tell me you had a son. Seven years, you had a son. And never told me."
"Just when did you expect me to tell you!" Draco exploded, and his fury rose to clash with Harry's. "I wanted you to be a part of his life more than anything in the world, but then when I mentioned having a child you completely blew the idea off."
"That was twenty years ago!" Harry growled.
"No, Harry, it was seventeen! Seventeen years ago, I offered a way for the two of us to have a child together. You remember the spell? It would transform one of our… bodies… into that of a woman long enough to extract an egg which could be met with the other's sperm. Then the fertilized egg would be placed into a select female, and then would be born as our son. But you laughed at me, Harry, you laughed. You told me there was no way you were going to be a woman just so you could have a child, that you were content without children. You told me that we were too young to make a commitment like that, that one of us one day may decide he wasn't ready to be with another man. But… but the reason I didn't tell you about Raiden, Harry, was because by the time I had offered up the idea to you I had already begun the process. You thought the sperm was for medical research, but it was to fertilize the egg I'd extracted. I didn't tell you about Raiden because you never wanted him. You never wanted to be a part of our son's life."
Harry was on his feet and didn't remember how he'd gotten there. His hands were curled into fists, confusion and fury and pain lancing through his every nerve. He wanted desperately to come to another conclusion but the one that was staring him in the face was too obvious.
"Raiden… is… Raiden is my son?" he finally managed to sputter out, too afraid to speak it lest Draco laugh in his face. Could it really be true?
Draco gave a mock bow. "I suppose, technically, yes, you are his father. I am his 'mother'. Raiden is the result of a spell and our DNA. I did the spell against your wishes. That is why I never told you about him."