The next day, I returned to Malfoy Manor to return the paintings to their rightful owner. I may not like that they existed, but I still knew that giving the Potter paintings back was the right thing to do. And I couldn't abide the other paintings, especially the one of Kyara, being anywhere other than with Draco. It was also the action specified by law, although I probably could've gotten away with keeping them in Ministry custody until after the trial.

Upon receiving his priceless paintings, Draco checked only to make sure the one of Kyara was undamaged. "Thank you for all of your help, Auror Potter," he said gratefully, but formally.

"You're welcome. I don't know if this is a good time, but I still wish to speak with you about a certain matter; you know, the letter I wrote you and the reason I was stopping by yesterday," I said.

"Why were you here yesterday? I thought I was well rid of you," he replied, a glint of amusement in his eye.

"The painting of my visit last time. I was hoping this painting nonsense could stop. You don't want to use your own daughter's funeral to make a profit, do you?" I asked.

"You want me to take the last painting off the market?" he asked.

"It's too late for that; it's already out there. What I want is for you not to ever explain the context behind it. Don't paint the funeral and don't give it away in interviews either."

He thought in silence for several long minutes, tapping his index finger to his pointy chin. "You want something from me, yet what do you offer in return? It seems to me that you already owe me, for the loss of my daughter. According to Creevey logic, you owe me priceless reparations," he finally said, trademark smirk in place.

"What sort of reparations?" I asked half incredulously. Part of me wanted to make up for my horrible mistake, but Kyara was dead, I couldn't bring her back, and there was nothing I could do to fix it.

"You took my heir from me, Harry," he said, using my first name. He never used my first name. I liked the way it sounded when he said it. "Give me an heir in return."

"Give you an heir? I don't have an heir to give you. Teddy is my godson; I don't have custody of him. Even if I did, it doesn't work that way. My heir can't just be given to you to become your heir," I replied.

"Then consider the debt unpaid. I told you what I want: I want an heir. I want a baby, to replace the baby I lost; doesn't even have to be a little girl." His passion leaked through into his voice, his eyes shining with it. "I will leave you to figure out how to deliver. I will paint my daughter's funeral, because it is my own form of therapy. You have until it is finished to arrange payment of your debt, or I will release it to the world. Now kindly leave. I've been through a lot in the past twenty-four hours and I need to rest." He did look worn out—less put together than usual—his hair loose and falling into his eyes.

I left.

I went home to Grimmauld Place and brooded on the impossible task Draco Malfoy had set me. Teddy wasn't even a baby anymore and Draco had given no indication that it was Teddy he wanted. But Teddy was the closest thing to an heir I had. Did he think Ginny and I were still together and an heir imminent? He couldn't possibly think that, because the breakup had been ages ago and the papers had had a field day with the story. That story had only faded away, because the one about my homosexuality broke. Ginny was engaged now and everyone knew it. As it was, I wasn't ever expecting to have an heir other than Teddy. I was going to leave it all to Teddy.

Eventually I did the only thing I could think of. Draco had said he wanted a baby and I didn't have one, but I did have access to a self-replenishing supply of Weasley babies. I invited Draco over to George and Angelina's house to show off my newest niece, Roxanne. They had a son too; a toddler named Fred. I brought four-year-old Teddy along, hoping that having the children around would break any lingering tension.

I expected that Draco would balk at the idea and refuse my invitation, but he didn't. He accepted. Stranger still, he came bearing gifts for all three children. Upon his arrival, he apologized to George and Angelina for his role in the war, even though he had already done so once before. Then he handed out the gifts and played with Teddy and Fred, all the while smiling brightly; not a smirk, but a full smile. It was glorious to behold. He cradled little Roxanne like she was precious, spending eons nuzzling the top of her head with his nose while she napped on his chest. He ate Angelina's food and complimented her cooking. He made polite small talk, preferring to hear Angelina's stories of the children rather than George's stories of the joke shop. Only when it was late and the children being put down to bed, did he move to leave. I followed him out. Teddy had passed out first over an hour before, so I knew he'd be fine.

"Draco, can I talk to you?" I asked, stopping him just before the apparition point.

"Yes, Harry?" he asked, turning to look at me. He stood tall, looming over me with his lean, muscled body. He was fit and I had to fight off my attraction to him.

"Was this what you wanted?" I asked, searching his eyes for a clue. They were an incredibly pale shade of grey and spoke volumes; I just didn't understand what they were saying.

He looked down, before looking back up at me and answering, "Not quite. I want what Angelina Weasley has." His tone was sadder now, his smile turned down.

"You want a baby of your own? A family of your own?" I asked for clarification. He nodded, eyes downcast. "Why don't you have another baby: you're male fertile, aren't you?"

"My boyfriend died in the war. I would've had Kyara to remember him by…"

"You've never found anyone else?" I asked. He shook his head.

I reached out a hand to stroke his cheek. I'd seen him in a new light lately and I wanted to comfort him. He may not be innocent, but he was good at heart and had a sweet side. We also had something in common: a desire for children that didn't seem like it could possibly ever be fulfilled.

He had a captivating sparkle in his eyes and the way his lower lip quivered made me want to reach out and touch it.

The moment was interrupted by the sound of apparition. Ron and Hermione appeared and I suddenly realized how long my hand had been on Draco's cheek and how long we'd been standing there looking in each other's eyes.

I lowered my hand, stepped back a pace, and asked, "So tonight doesn't relieve me of my debt?"

"Definitely not. Do give my compliments to the Weasleys; I had a lovely time and they have wonderful children," Draco said. He strode to the apparition point and was gone.

"No luck?" Ron asked, coming up to stand beside me.

I shook my head. "It went well, but no. He wants his own child," I answered.

"Well, mate, then there's nothing you can do. You can't please them all. How many impossible things have you been asked to do over the years? At some point, you just have to say no," Ron replied.

I didn't want to say no. I wanted to find the answer.

"Harry, Draco is male fertile," Hermione said.

"So?" Ron asked, clueless.

I held silent, waiting for what she would say, knowing it would change my life before she even told me what it was.

"All he needs to make an heir is a sperm donation. I think that's what he's asking for," Hermione continued.

"No! Harry, you can't!" Ron exclaimed.

"No, he wouldn't want that, would he?" I asked. She thought Draco wanted to have my baby.

"Think about it, Harry. He's given up trying to find someone or he doesn't even want to try. He only wants the baby, not the husband. You can't do it, though; it wouldn't be right. You need to talk to him. Convince him that he just needs to be patient and the right wizard will come along," Hermione answered.

"Wouldn't be right," Ron echoed.

I nodded. I'd have to talk to Draco.