Draco woke up the next morning to the sound of crying. He'd been late getting back home the previous night and he'd ended up sleeping later than usual. He usually made it a point to wake up before his son, but now Scorpius was up and he was crying and whimpering in a way that very clearly indicated that he needed a nappy change. Draco shook himself awake and started the soothing baby talk that he had become rather adept at. Scorpius calmed down the moment he heard his father's voice and lay there looking at his dad with his big grey eyes as his mouth twisted in an aristocratic grimace. Scorpius always looked like that when he soiled his nappy...almost as if he couldn't believe that someone as perfect as him would be asked to endure such indignities.

Draco chucked at the sight. He leaned forward and kissed his son on his cheek and he rubbed his nose and his chin against that handsome little face. Scorpius scrunched his eyes shut and then he giggled as he felt his father's stubble against his cheek. "You like that huh?" Draco said and the he did again. Scorpius giggled and cooed and then he put his arms up. Draco grabbed the chubby little hands and kissed them lightly. "Not yet, little man. Let's get you changed first," he said and then he cleaned and powdered his son's plump little bottom and proceeded to change him. Then he picked him up and held him close, feeling his heart fill with warmth as Scorpius snuggled up to him.

They stood like that for a minute and then Draco called his house-elf and sent her off to get Scorpius a bottle of milk. Then he walked over to the window and drew open the curtains. Then he sat in the rocking chair and settled Scorpius in his lap and they looked out into the garden. Binky came back with the bottle of milk and then she stood by and watched as Draco cradled his son and fed him. She had been Draco's nanny when he was a baby and she had done everything for him. Narcissa had been a loving mother but she had always believed that things like nappy changing, feeding and baths were jobs for the elves. So Binky found it astonishing that Draco did all these things for his son by himself.

She used to argue about it, saying that it was her job and that when Master did all these things, it made her feel useless. But Draco had stuck to his guns. "I like taking care of my son, Binky, and you're not going to talk me out of it. So why don't you take care of me and this house, and let me take care of Scorpius?" he'd said. Binky wasn't convinced, but she cared a good deal for her Master and she could see that he was happy only when he was around his son, so she let it go. She watched him now as he looked down at his son with a small smile on his face and she sighed. And then she quietly left the room. It was time to make breakfast.

This was the favourite part of Draco's day. He had always been a morning person and he liked this little bit of quiet time that he got with his son before he had to get up and start his day and do all those necessary and sometimes meaningless things that all grownups have to do. It was a good time to sit and take stock of his life. He had never been particularly introspective as a kid or even as a teen, but the war had changed him. He had made so many bad and downright disastrous decisions then...all because he had chosen to follow his father instead of thinking for himself.

His life had been hell almost from the day he had turned sixteen and even when the war was finally over, Draco had despaired because he had fully expected to find himself in Azkaban, but Harry (it was hard to think of him as Potter anymore) had testified for him and somehow kept him out of prison. It was then that Draco decided that now that he had been given a second chance, he was going to take it and he was going to make something of himself and his life. He was ashamed of the things that he'd done and the person that he had been and he'd set about changing and trying to redeem himself.

And he had. He'd moved to France with his mother and he'd worked diligently to get his Potions mastery and then he'd started a mail order Potions business that quickly became successful. Then he'd married Camille and they'd had Scorpius. It had been a strictly business arrangement with Camille. She was a pureblood whose family had fallen on bad times. So she needed the money and he wanted a kid. Once his son was born, she'd signed over all parental rights and she'd left. It was a fairly cold hearted way of going about having a kid, Draco knew, but he hadn't exactly had a choice. His mother wanted a grandchild the traditional way because she wanted a kid who resembled her son, who would inherit Draco's intelligence and his looks and his magical abilities...

However it had come about, Draco was incredibly happy to be a father. He loved his son with a passion and a depth of emotion that he hadn't known that he was capable of. He watched him now as those big grey eyes looked up at him and he smiled. It was only six months since they had come back to England. His mother had gone back to the Manor while Draco had chosen to make a home for himself in one of their smaller properties in Hampshire. It was one of the few properties that the Ministry had chosen to return along with the Manor and about a third of his inheritence.

But Draco wasn't thinking about any of that now. His mind was almost entirely on Harry. He'd spent a long time thinking about him the previous night and he still couldn't wrap his head around the fact that Harry had asked him out.

"I really like him, Scorpius," he said softly. "I've liked him for a long time. But I used to be so awful to him at school that I never expected him to look at me or talk to me again. But he did. He asked me out. I don't know why. I don't see what he could possibly like about me..."

Scorpius cocked his head to the side as if he was listening intently. Then he pulled the milk bottle out of his mouth with a little plop and he gurgled as he gestured with his hands. Draco chuckled. "I love you too, little man," he said and then he kissed his son on the top of his head. He glanced at the clock and sighed. He had to get up and start his day. He had a bunch of hair care potions due for delivery today and he still had to finish making them and then he had to package them and send them off. It wouldn't do to dawdle. So he picked up his son, who had finished his milk and was now looking rather full and generally content with life, and he went into the kitchen. He handed Scorpius to Binky and went off to take a shower.

He came back down, freshly showered, immaculately dressed and ready to start his day. He found that Binky had laid out his breakfast and was now sitting on the carpet with Scorpius and playing with him. Draco went up to his son and gave him a quick kiss and then he sat down to breakfast. He picked up his newspaper. It was 'The Wizarding Times.' The anniversary celebration had made the first page as expected and Harry and Draco were front and centre. The headline was a lot milder than he had expected. DOES HARRY POTTER HAVE A NEW BOY-FRIEND? It read. I'll bet the 'Prophet' went with, 'Is The Saviour dating a Death Eater?' he thought as he stared at the front page, most of which was taken up with a photograph of them dancing. Harry had his arms about Draco's neck and he was looking at him with a smile on his face. It was a happy, open smile and it sat well on Harry's face. Makes him look even more beautiful, if that is possible, Draco thought as he stared at the page feeling mesmerised.

And then the owls began to arrive. His mother wanted to know why his floo was warded and why he hadn't told her about Potter when he had picked Scorpius up the previous night. Pansy wanted to know if he was shagging Potter. Blaise and Ginny wanted to know if Harry and Draco were a couple. And then there were the Howlers...ten of them. All of them seemed to be from middle-aged women who cursed him and his family and told him in no uncertain terms to stay away from Harry. Draco had been smart enough to cast a silencing charm around himself once the Howlers began to arrive, so Scorpius didn't hear any of that.

Draco knew that he shouldn't care about the Howlers but he couldn't help feeling bad. He sighed and then he sat back in his chair and looked at his son. They'd led a really quiet life so far. But his first brush with Harry had made him news. If they were to start dating, the attention and scrutiny would only increase. He'd told Harry that he didn't care and that was true but was he ready to have his personal life pried into? Was he ready for his life to be analysed and dissected and all his past mistakes brought up and discussed all over again? He had built a life for himself and it was a good one, a quiet one. He was just starting to find a foothold in England and he didn't need any negative press. It could seriously impact his business. And that would happen if he were to start dating Harry. It hadn't seemed to matter the previous night. But in the cold light of day, he began to wonder what he was getting himself into.

...

Harry had been up rather late the previous night. He'd been thinking about his life in general and Draco in particular. He was still surprised by everything that he'd done the last evening. He had danced with Draco and then he'd actually asked him out on a date...and Draco had agreed. It was all so surreal and yet it had felt good and it had felt right. If there was anything that Harry had learnt from his experience of the war it was to trust his instincts and do what felt right. He was very aware of the fact that things might not actually work out with Draco. The fact that they had spent a pleasant evening together did not in any way indicate that things would always be pleasant. In fact, their date could be a total disaster. But something in his gut told him that everything would work out just fine. It was the sort of certainty that he hadn't had for a long time.

And then he got out of bed and the owls started to arrive. A few of them were Howlers but the rest were impertinent letters from people he didn't know telling him "for his own good to stay away from the likes of Malfoy." Ron and Hermione turned up while he was having breakfast. They brought along a copy of the Prophet which had gone to town with the Saviour dating Death Eater theme. It was obnoxious, intrusive and prejudiced. It made Harry sick and then it made him feel guilty. Draco had only just come back to England and he was trying to settle in and make a place for himself in British Wizarding society again. He didn't need people digging into his past. And he had a kid to think about. What am I doing? Is this fair to him? Harry wondered as Hermione prattled on about stupidity and prejudice and Ron asked Harry for the tenth time that morning exactly what it was that he liked about 'that ferret'.

...

A/N: Well, what did you think?