A/N: A couple of notes before we start with this chapter. I've made a couple of changes.

First, I've updated the title of the story. When I first conceived this story while writing That Christmas, I promised that Alex had a story that I'd be writing later. It lovingly was called Alex's Story in my notes and comments after that, and so that's how I began posting it. As I approached the end, I realised that yes, it was Alex's story, but it was about so much more. It's about family and what that means to our characters. So, the story is now updated with the new name, though I've held on to the original as well. (I may also update the name of Family Pictures so the names aren't too close, so don't be shocked if you notice that in the future.)

Second, I've bumped the rating of this story. It was intended to be a T rated story, but as I was writing this chapter, Harry and Draco had other intentions. It's not gratuitous, but it's definitely now an M rating. If that bothers you and you want to avoid that scene, it's at the very end of the chapter and when it starts, you can skip the rest without missing much plot resolution. For the rest of you, enjoy. ;)

Chapter 8

The Portkey dropped Harry and Draco in the garden outside their house in Oxfordshire—the same garden Harry had disappeared into almost a week prior, after their fight. Years of Auror Portkeys usually meant they no longer gave Harry problems, but this time there was a little wobble and a grasp of Draco's shoulder, a sure sign the man wasn't fully recovered.

"Are you okay?" Draco asked, turning and placing his hand on Harry's back.

"Yeah, just a little dizzy. The Healers said I might feel like that for a few days after large uses of magic."

"Right." Draco had been there for the list of things to expect as Harry finished healing at home. Exhaustion, dizziness, loss of appetite, headaches. They would improve as the days passed, and Harry was home where he belonged, but Draco wouldn't fully relax until everything was back to normal. His stomach clenched at the thought, and he felt his chest tighten. Normal.

"Come on," Harry said, pulling Draco from his spiralling worries. "Let's go in." Harry took Draco's hand and squeezed.

"Harry—" They needed to talk about when Harry had left. It felt heavy in the silence between them.

"Not yet," Harry said, pulling him towards the door. "Let's wait until we've both had some rest, yeah? I don't think either of us are in the right state of mind."

"You sound like a fucking Mind-healer."

"Well, I mean, twenty years of therapy has to count for something, right?" Harry pulled Draco to his side as they hesitated before the door, and he wrapped his arms around him. "It's good to be home, though."

And then they stepped into their cosy kitchen and froze.

The first thing that registered was the screaming. There was so. Much. Screaming.

Lyra was the primary source, tears running down her face as she sat in the corner. "It's not fair!" she babbled over and over through her tears.

The rest of the noise came from where Alex sobbed loudly, cuddled in Molly's arms as she spoke to him quietly.

"What in Merlin's name?" Draco asked, stunned.

"Papa! Daddy!" Lyra cried between sobs. "I'm in trouble and Alex isn't, and it's not fair. He hit me first."

Harry sighed. "Well, this is fun. Have they been like this all week?"

Draco choked down a laugh. "No. Why don't you talk to Lyra, and I'll go to Alex and Molly."

"Yeah, okay. Tell Molly I'm taking Lyra up to her room to talk. At least that will lessen the noise level."

"Thanks." Draco crossed the room to where Molly sat on a kitchen chair, a sobbing Alex in her arms. "Hi, Alex. Molly. What's going on?"

Molly looked grateful for the interruption. "Oh, just growing pains, I think. Lyra is learning how to give Alex space, and Alex is learning that he has to use his words and not his hands."

"Ah." Draco pulled another chair up and looked into the boy's watery eyes which were beginning to droop. "It took me a long time to learn that too, little bug." He held out his arms for the boy. "Would you like me to hold you for a bit?"

Alex nodded and crawled into Draco's lap. His thumb immediately went into his mouth, and he nestled his head on Draco's shoulder, wrapping his legs around Draco's waist as the sobs began to subside.

Molly watched them and smiled, then stood, brushing out the long skirt of her robes and walking over to the counter to finish preparing whatever she was cooking. "Did Harry take Lyra upstairs then? She definitely needed a time out. She was getting cheeky, telling me how I should go about reprimanding Alex."

Draco closed his eyes for a moment, his exhaustion beginning to catch up with him again after the excitement, Alex's slow breathing soothing Draco's frazzled nerves.

"I'm sorry. Harry's talking to her."

"It's an adjustment to all of you, especially her." Molly's quiet movements, the clank of the spoon on the metal bowl, the chopping of the knife on the wooden cutting board; it all served to put Draco into a fog. He listened as she spoke, but he wasn't sure how much he actually took in. "...something to consider."

"Pardon?" Draco asked, finally opening his eyes.

She stopped and raised an eyebrow, giving him the same look she gave Lyra when she was amused at some antic. "Why don't you go put him down for a nap and take one yourself. I'll have Lyra help me finish dinner down here, and then I have an activity for her to work on. It'll keep her busy while you boys rest."

"Yeah, I think you're right. I can barely see straight," he agreed, standing up.

"Tell Harry to send Lyra down before he joins you."

Draco nodded, standing up slowly, careful not to disturb the now lightly-snoring Alex.

"And Draco?"

He hesitated on the threshold and turned back.

"This was good, you know."

He must have looked confused, so she smiled indulgently and continued.

"What you came home to…the chaos. It was good. The silence of the last few days, the perfect behaviour? That wasn't normal for small children. The fact that they both felt comfortable enough today to begin acting out a bit? It's a good sign."

Draco considered her words, and as much as he hated the screaming, he thought she was probably right. Though Merlin help him, he sincerely hoped next time he'd have more sleep first.

As Molly predicted, "normal" over the next few days could practically be tracked by the noise level of the house at any given moment. It reminded Draco of the ebb and flow of waves on a beach. When the children were silent, things seemed eerie, as though the entire household was waiting on tenterhooks for another bomb to fall. When the children were noisy, there was laughing, crying, arguing, and the general noise of kids being kids.

Unfortunately, the tide was often low with Lyra sitting quietly, watching the telly or reading books, sometimes colouring in the corner. Alex would sit in the window seat of Teddy's old room for hours if they let him, staring out at the bleak November landscape, Cat curled in his lap and Caius sitting nearby, as if on guard. Occasionally, somebody would entice Alex into some activity and he'd light up for a short time—quiet, but animated—but as soon as it was finished, he'd be back in that window, his eyes sadder than any child's had a right to be.

The nights passed in a blur of nightmares, and not just Alex's, which understandably continued with cries for his parents who would never come. Draco spent the first few nights handling those while Harry continued to recover, but when Draco woke on the fourth night and found the other side of his bed vacant, he crept down the hallway to find Harry in the old rocking chair they'd moved into Alex's room, holding the child and singing softly.

Goodnight, my angel
Now it's time to dream
And dream how wonderful your life will be
Someday your child may cry
And if you sing this lullabye
Then in your heart
There will always be a part of me (1)

Draco stood, listening as Harry's gentle baritone repeated the song through another time. A tear slipped down Draco's cheek and his heart swelled for this man who held their family together. The man who only wanted to hold his family close, who opened his heart to a boy alone in the night, who wanted the best for them all, including Draco.

Draco's nightmares were less consistent than Alex's, maybe because he wasn't sleeping as deeply as normal. His dreams generally came in the early hours of the morning, and he'd wake in a cold sweat and an ache in his heart, reaching for Harry before he could stop himself. Harry would pull him into his arms, reassuring him that all was well. Slowly, the remnants of grief would wane, but the fear of that grief would remain, creeping up on him when he let his guard down.

Lyra's nightmares, however, seemed the most surprising. She woke several times that first week, crying, afraid that Harry and Draco had died, or been murdered, or had left her in some way. She didn't seem to remember these dreams in the light of day, but Draco noticed her seeking extra reassurance, crawling into one of their laps and snuggling more than usual. She followed them from room to room, cheerfully babbling about whatever was on her mind, always seeking their attention.

But each day was a little bit louder than the day before. Each day seemed to be a little easier, a little bit more normal. Old routines slowly morphed into new routines, and by the time the second week had passed, Draco began to relax. They could do this. Whoever had been up with Alex during the night got to sleep longer in the morning, and the other would get up with Lyra, beginning breakfast. By the time everyone was up, fed, and dressed, whatever plans had been made for the day would begin. A visit from Teddy, or a trip to the Burrow, or most often, an appointment with one of the various Healers and Mind-healers.

But still, things were left unsaid between Harry and Draco.

So it was that the two of them sat quietly together that Monday evening, exactly two weeks after Harry had woken up in the hospital room. The children were both tucked into bed, and Harry and Draco finally had a moment alone where they were both feeling rested and calm.

Harry muted the telly, the old movie they'd both seen a dozen times continuing on silently. "Are you ready to talk about it?"

Draco felt his chest tighten, but he knew he'd feel better if they finally got this over with. "I'm ready if you are. But I think I might like a glass of wine first. Do you want one too?"

"Yeah, sure," Harry answered quietly, and Draco hated that he didn't know what Harry was thinking. He always knew what Harry was thinking. That was one of the benefits of having been married so long, knowing what the other person would do or say next, but the distance of the last couple of weeks made him question everything. He consciously kept his breathing slow and steady as he poured the wine in the kitchen and brought it back to the living room, handing a glass to Harry before sitting down. There was only a foot separating them, but it felt like a mile.

He took a sip of his wine, then turned so he was facing Harry, meeting the green eyes he knew so well.

"I was out of line."

Draco froze. Wait. What?

"You're right. I don't understand what it's like to have a family legacy. I wanted to help, but I didn't consider what that meant and I put you in an awkward position. I'm sorry." Harry's voice was so quiet, so earnest, that Draco didn't know what to say. This wasn't how this conversation was supposed to go.

"Harry—"

"I feel horrible. I made this into this huge fight it didn't need to be, and then I decided to go out on that bloody call, and all I could think was the last thing I said to you was that I never had a family." Harry's voice was thick, his eyes glassy. "And I really didn't mean that. You're my family."

"Stop," Draco said, and he hoped the plea in his voice didn't sound as much like a beg as it seemed.

"But—"

"Stop it. Please." Draco took a sip of his wine to give himself a moment, but then he pushed forwards. "It wasn't your fault. You were completely right that day. It was me. I was being ridiculous."

"You weren't. It's your family estate, and it's really none of my business."

He felt the sadness he'd been feeling quickly turning to irritation. "Oh, fuck that."

Something flashed in Harry's eyes, and he glared. "That was uncalled for."

"It was perfectly called for. I fucked up. I know I did. If you think I haven't replayed our argument hundreds of times in the last three weeks, realising exactly how much of an arse I was and how ridiculous I sounded, then you're drastically underestimating my ability to self-flagellate."

Harry simply stared, irritation and confusion and sadness warring in his features. He seemed to settle on the irritation. "Fine. Explain."

"What is there to explain? You were right. I was so wrapped up in my head as to what was—and what wasn't—a Malfoy problem that I wasn't fucking thinking clearly."

His voice was getting louder, and he watched Harry cast a quick one-way Silencing Charm on the room. They'd be able to hear the kids, but the kids wouldn't hear them. "Go on."

"I realised later that morning that I'd fucked up. If nothing else, I could have at least heard you out and let you contribute ideas. It wasn't until days later that I really understood the bigger picture."

Harry narrowed his eyes but kept silent.

"And the bigger picture is that I love you." Draco sighed and lowered his voice. "I would give you everything because you're my family. But I have to let you do the same."

"It goes both ways," Harry said quietly.

"Yeah, it goes both ways." Draco agreed, and the truth of that rang through his chest, making his breathing quicken. "So, I'm really sorry, and we can figure out the estate thing together. I'm sorry I fucked it all up, and I'm sorry I almost got you killed, and I'm s—"

"Wait, what do you mean, you almost got me killed?" Harry demanded, sounding horrified.

"Oh, come on, you know I'm right," he bit out, furious with himself. "You were angry with me because I was a right bastard, so you decided to go out into the field instead of going to the pub with Ron or coming home early for a romantic evening as we'd originally planned." His throat clenched again at the memory. "I picked up Indian from our place and had it ready, and I waited." Harry simply stared, his mouth open and his eyes wide, so Draco swallowed the lump in his throat and finished. "I waited, and you didn't come because you were in the field, dying. I was just sitting here. Waiting."

Harry's eyes flashed and his face hardened. "Gods, Draco, I love you, but you're so fucking egotistical sometimes." He plucked the wine glass out of Draco's hand and set it next to his own on the coffee table, then he moved closer to Draco, his eyes solemn. "I was in the field because I could see Teddy was questioning whether or not he wanted to be an Auror, and I wanted to give him a taste of the bureaucracy involved in a simple case of Accidental Magic. I thought it was an easy little case to show him the piles of paperwork he'd have. It had nothing to do with our fight."

Draco's mind began to spin with that piece of information, trying to make sense of what he was hearing. "Really?" he whispered.

"Really." Harry swung around and sat astride Draco's lap, and he ran a finger along Draco's jaw, eliciting a shiver. "I'm sorry I left without us talking it out. I was sorry the moment I realised that I was so badly hurt. I wouldn't have done anything differently on the mission, because I was there to save Alex and he desperately needed me, but if I could go back and make things right between us before I left that morning, I would. Maybe you would have suffered a little less."

Draco's eyes stung, and he reached for Harry's head, pulling it down so their foreheads rested against one another, their noses nearly touching. "I would still have suffered."

"I know. Me too." Harry closed the distance between their lips and kissed Draco softly.

Draco pulled back slightly. "I love you. You're my family. I chose you."

Harry chuckled. "Is that what those vows were about? Now it makes sense."

"You idiot." Draco tilted his head back again and tugged slightly on Harry's neck pulling him closer, loving the scratch of Harry's regrown beard as it brushed along his jaw and neck. Slight nibbles near his ear drew a moan from his chest.

"Draco," Harry said, and he shoved his hips forward, letting Draco feel his arousal. It'd been nearly a month since they'd been intimate—too long, by anyone's standards—and Draco let out a little whimper, mimicking Harry's movements.

"We can't really do this down here, can we? What if one of the children comes out?"

Harry thrust again, running his hands through Draco's hair and devouring his neck. "I put an alert charm on the top step. We'll hear them coming."

"Sure of yourself, weren't you?" He tugged Harry's shirt up and over his head, eager to touch him after so long.

"Well, I figured it'd either turn into this or a brawl. Either way, the kids wouldn't need to see it."

"Good call," Draco answered, and he unbuttoned Harry's jeans and reached inside.

Harry's head fell back and his eyes closed as Draco wrapped his hand around his erection. "Fuck."

Draco moved his hand, revelling in the familiar weight and texture of his husband. He slipped his thumb over the slit and swirled it around, something that generally drove the other man mad.

"God, Draco, I'm not going to last long tonight," Harry said, gasping. "But I want you to come with me. Please."

Draco gasped as Harry pulled back and reached for Draco's trousers, deftly opening the top and grasping his prize, his warm, familiar hand feeling so utterly perfect. "Yes. Merlin, yes."

Harry grabbed Draco's wand from where it lay on the cushion and cast a lubrication spell, coating his hand liberally before grasping both of them together and moving.

"Harry," Draco gasped, thrusting against his husband's length, relishing his heat and the strength of his hand. He added his own hand to join Harry's, linking their fingers and moving up and down against their shafts, kissing, gasping one another's names. He felt his peak approaching and dropped his head back. "I'm close."

"Me too. Fuck. Come for me. Please. I want to see you come."

A few more hungry thrusts and Draco came on a shout, pouring himself over both of their hands. Harry jerked several more times and joined him, the heat of their combined release coating their joined fingers.

Harry dropped his head onto Draco's shoulder, breathing heavily. "That was significantly overdue," he finally managed, and Draco huffed out a laugh.

"I really love you, you know. Even if you are heavy and cutting off the blood flow to my legs."

Harry chuckled and kissed him lightly, then grabbed the wand and cleaned them both. He tucked himself away and fell back onto the sofa with a loud sigh. "I love you too. I really needed that."

Draco turned his head and looked at Harry, his dark hair messy with sweat, his face and chest flushed. His husband. His family. His love. "Yeah, me too."

A/N: You guys. You guys! I finished the last chapters this week, and I'll be honest, I don't want to wait to post the rest. SO, stick around, because the rest of the story will be posted tomorrow afternoon my time. There's one more chapter and an epilogue. I hope you love it!

(1) Song: Lullabye (Goodnight, My Angel). Written by Billy Joel, Producers-Billy Joel, Danny Kortchmar © Columbia Records

The song has been added to my Spotify Playlist for this series. You can find information about the playlist and the rest of the series in my Author's Profile.