A Moment in Time
DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter (and associated characters, likenesses, concepts, etc.) belongs to J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, Scholastic, Inc. AOL/Time Warner, Inc., among others. I make no claim, written or implied, upon Harry Potter. No money is being made and no infringement or disrespect to the creators / copyright holders is intended.
Warning: This story will contain slash (ie. male/male relationships) and mpreg, although neither will be graphic.
A/N: This story was inspired by the many wonderful stories that I have read and enjoyed here at fan fiction and any similarities to existing stories is not intended. This story is AU, meaning that the events that occurred in the OOTP have not been taken into account and I am in no means suggesting the material described in this story should be considered as a direct interpretation of cannon. Also, I am American so I apologize in advance for any Americanisms.
Chapter Twenty-three – First Encounter
The plan had worked, but by the time the Order and Harry and Draco had arrived, the Death Eaters had already destroyed several muggle homes and were systematically working their way down the street almost as though they were a swarm of locusts, consuming everything in their path. The attack had come only two days after the Phoenix had informed the Order members of its possibility.
Harry stood back for a moment, assessing the situation before taking any action. The red and blue robes of the Order members and Aurors were already engaging the dark black that the death eaters wore.
"What's wrong, Leo?" Draco was surprised to see Harry still standing here watching the battle rather than participating.
"I just don't get it, Dray. Why attack this village, why now? It just doesn't make sense to me." Harry was scanning the mass to see if there was any sign of Voldemort, but seeing as his scar wasn't even twitching, he guessed that the Dark Lord hadn't made an appearance, at least not yet.
"Harry, you are assuming Voldemort uses logic, don't make that mistake. Believe me, I've spent enough time listening to that sick fuck to realize that most things he does have no greater purpose than for his own perverted pleasure. He ordered this attack, for no other reason than merely because he could. And if he manages to kill off some of the resistance at the same time, so much the better." Harry was a little taken aback by Draco's almost cavalier attitude.
"Well as much as I'd hate to deprive anyone their happiness, let's see about making sure that doesn't happen."
* * *
Draco had lost Harry sometime during the fight. You would think that with these tacky purple robes Harry insisted that they wear it would be hard to lose sight of each other, but somehow they had managed it. Part of the reasoning behind Harry's decision to have these purple eyesores custom-made was so that they would be able to identify each other easily. Knowing that they couldn't possibly wear black in battle, as they would most likely be mistaken for Death Eaters, and Harry refused to wear red like the Order did or blue as that is what the Auror's wore, he came up with these purple ones. In all honesty, they really weren't as bad as Draco liked to make them out to be. He just liked to rattle Harry's cage a bit. The hooded robes were a deep dark plum color and made out of a heavy material that surprisingly didn't seem to hinder the wearer's movements. The robes themselves were unadorned, except for some silver trim around the hem, collar, and cuffs.
Draco quickly wiped some sweat out of his eyes with the back of his hand as he stunned yet another Death Eater. That made at least four that he had taken out. The battle had been going on for about fifteen minutes so far with neither side gaining much ground. On the positive side, the Death Eaters' attention had been diverted from the villagers and was now solely focused on the freedom fighters.
Both Harry and Draco were careful to keep their hoods up covering their hair and the majority of their faces, not only for protection but also to keep their identities a secret as long as possible. Clearly, Voldemort knew that Harry was back in town, so to speak, and Draco felt that once Harry was identified, the purple robe would become a hindrance, as they both would be easy to pick out, as they were the only ones wearing them. But until that time, Draco decided it was just easier to give in to Harry's wishes. Besides, who would have ever thought that Draco would wear purple.
Hearing a sharp cry coming from somewhere off to his left, Draco turned. Six Death Eaters had managed to surround one of the Order members and were now torturing the poor soul with what looked like the Cruciatus curse. Draco was to far away to be of any assistance, so he started to move quickly in that direction. Before he managed to go more than 15 feet, he watched in amazement as a strong voice shouted out, "Expelliarmus!" and four of the Death Eaters flew back away from the man that they had just been tormenting. As much as he hated the Death Eaters, Draco winced at the loud crack that resounded in the air as one of them had hit a brick wall behind him so hard that his head left an indentation.
The power behind that spell was unimaginable. Draco, who was often in the presence of both his father and the Dark Lord, two of the strongest wizards in the world, had never seen a spell cast with near the force that that one had been. The spell actually left a slight odor in the air, almost like a whiff of a piece of burnt toast.
"Stupify," one of the remaining Death Eaters had recovered enough to try to stun their attacker.
Draco looked in the direction that the Death Eater was aiming his spell, trying to see who had cast that powerful disarming charm. Draco only raised an eyebrow, not really surprised when his gaze fell on a figure clad almost identical to himself.
* * *
Harry was stunned. This was the first time in his life that he was actually experiencing the sights, sounds and smells of a battle first hand. It took him a moment or so to realize that he wasn't experiencing this via some dream or vision; that this was real and he was actually here. Finally, all the times that he had wanted with all his might to do something about the terrible visions that he had been having came to light. This was his chance, his opportunity to make a difference.
Careful to use his wand, so as to not give away his wandless abilities, Harry made quick work of his first three opponents. Suddenly he heard someone call out a spell, one that he didn't recognize. Before he had the chance to move, he instinctively erected a protective shield around himself wandlessly. The spell hit his protection and ricocheted off into a different direction, finally hitting yet another Death Eater square in the face. The injured Death Eater shrieked in terrible pain and fright and he grabbed at his face with both of his hands, falling to his knees.
Harry gagged when he saw what the spell had done, it was some sort of acid spell and the spell was slowly eating away at the Death Eaters flesh. Harry muttered a quick "finite incantatem" at the Death Eater who was writhing in pain while at the same time, casting yet another stunning spell at the foe who had originally tried to hex him. After he made sure that the Death Eater had been successfully stunned, Harry once more faced the man who had taken the curse that had been meant for him. The man was blissfully unconscious. Knowing that there wasn't anything else that could be done for him at this time, Harry cast a full body bind on the man and strode off in search of yet more opponents.
Harry hadn't gone far when he heard someone's scream of pure agony. There was only one curse that Harry knew of that made someone scream like that one did, and unfortunately for Harry he was intimately familiar with that particular dark spell. How he hated that spell. Harry felt his adrenaline pumping as he knew that he had to stop that spell from continuing even a second longer.
Running to where he thought the screaming had come from, Harry saw one man in red robes on the ground surrounded and being tortured by a group of Death Eaters. Without stopping, Harry pulled out his wand and in mid-stride and cast the disarming charm at the circle around the Order member.
His attention focused on the still form of the Order member lying face down in the dirt, Harry didn't even realize that his spell had managed to incapacitate four of the Death Eaters. Feeling a tickling sensation in the air around him, Harry was startled away from his goal. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw one of the remaining Death Eaters cast a stunning charm at him. Easily dodging the spell, Harry returned the Death Eaters spell with one of his own, this one meeting its intended mark.
Harry scanned for the Death Eater that was still unaccounted for. Harry smiled as he watched Draco disarmed the last man from that group, and then cast another spell that bound the man tightly with ropes that he had conjured. That particular Death Eater wasn't going to be going anywhere in the foreseeable future.
Sparing one more quick look at the unconscious Order member, Harry pressed his lips softly against Draco's once before whispering, "Take care of him." Then without another word, Harry raced off once more to see what additional assistance he could provide.
Slightly disgruntled at being left with the injured Order member, Draco knelt down next to the fallen form. Slowly, he rolled the man over onto his back so that he could assess how seriously injured he actually was. The Order member's hood came loose as he was rolling and slid partway down the man's head, strands of shockingly red hair escaping its confines. Draco wasn't even shocked when the pale face was revealed to him. "What the hell were you trying to do Fred, kill yourself?"
* * *
The battle over, Draco found himself wrapped protectively in Harry's strong arms. It felt so good to be here, surrounded by his mate's love and concern. Harry's arms started to slowly run down his back and the up again along his sides, almost as though making sure Draco was in one piece, that he hadn't been injured.
A burst of energy exploded from somewhere deep within the blonde man followed by a warm calming feeling that flowed throughout his entire body, saturating each and every pore. Draco pulled sharply away from Harry's embrace as he recognized what he was feeling from that time once long ago when Harry had healed him after the battle at the Ministry of Magic over three years ago.
"Harry, stop that. You're exhausted; you look like you're about to fall over. Besides, there are others here that are hurt much worse than myself. If you feel like you have to heal someone, heal them."
Draco wasn't really angry with Harry; he was worried. Harry truly did look like he was on the verge of collapsing; and no wonder why. Even now, only moments after the Death Eaters who were physically able to disapparated away from the village, stories about Harry's performance during the battle were starting to spread. Draco truly hoped that some of the snippets of conversations that he overheard were exaggerations, but looking at Harry's drawn pale face, he doubted that they were. Exclamations such as "unstoppable", "amazing", and "I never would have believed it had I not seen it for myself", were common. 'Well, Harry had certainly revealed some of his true strength today' Draco thought as Harry leaned up against him for support.
"Come on Leo, let's get you home before you pass out." Draco barely got the words out before the weight on his side got exponentially heavier. Seeing that he was too late and Harry had already passed out, Draco took the portkey that they had made for their return trip out of his pocket. Holding onto Harry tightly, Draco activated the device that was going to take them home.
* * *
A lone Death Eater stood off to the side, watching. He gritted his teeth imagining the reception they would get when they reported this defeat to Lord Voldemort. The Dark Lord was not going to be happy with this performance. There were at least twenty-three Death Eaters that had been stunned or otherwise incapacitated, and at least that many if not more had been injured. So far Lucius hadn't seen any fatalities, but then again, for all he knew there could be.
The Death Eaters had only managed to injure a small handful of villagers before the resistance had arrived, and had not killed anyone. It appeared that the resistance had gained some reinforcements and that these new fighters had certainly made a discernable difference in this battle. 'That won't always be the case,' Lucius sneered to himself as he squinted at an unfamiliar wizard wearing a purple cloak.
Just then the wind picked up causing the wizard's hood to shift slightly. Lucius sucked in his breath as he caught a glimpse of the wizard's tell tale hair. He would recognize that hair color anywhere as he was intimately familiar with it, seeing as how he saw it every time he looked into a mirror.
'What the hell was Draco doing here and why in Salazar's name is he wearing that hideous purple cloak for?' Lucius was dumbfounded as he started to comprehend his own son's betrayal. Lucius' thoughts continued to race. 'If Draco was one of the wizards in the different colored cloaks, then who the hell was the other?' Before the thought had completely crossed the blonde wizard's mind, a sneaky suspicion rose as to exactly who that other person was. Promising him self that his son would pay dearly for his double cross, Lucius turned his back on the last remnants of the battle, knowing that he had a lot to ponder before he appeared before his Lord.
* * *
Harry groaned softly as he tried to move. His arms however didn't seem to want to respond. 'Merlin, I can't remember when I've felt this tired before.' Gathering enough strength, Harry slowly opened his eyes. He was glad to see that he was back in his own soft bed in the Founder's Hall, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember how he had gotten there.
Turning his head partway to the side, Harry was relieved to see Draco's slumbering form snuggled up next to him. Ignoring his protesting muscles, Harry leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss on the blonde's temple. Pushing the haunting memory of the battle from his mind, Harry moved back into his lover's embrace as sleep quickly overtook him once more.
* * *
Hermione wouldn't have seen him if she didn't know exactly where to look. But years of friendship and of knowing many of the boy's secrets made sure that she knew exactly where he might go if he wanted to hide and get away from it all. During school, this was Harry's secret place where he would go when he needed to be alone. He didn't know that Hermione knew about his special hiding place; but one day during their sixth year, she had gotten tired of him just disappearing for short periods of time and had followed him. Seeing her friend sitting alone with all the pain that he usually kept tucked away behind his usual mask exposed and open, made Hermione realize how private a person Harry really was. Not wanting to disturb him further, she had left him alone, never telling him that she knew where he went on those occasions when he would try to slip out of the common room unnoticed.
After spending a full day and a half in bed recovering at Draco's insistence, Harry had managed to duck his shadow and escape for some much needed solitude. He knew that Draco would be pissed when he got back, but he was feeling a little overwhelmed with everything that had happened recently and wanted some time alone to deal with things. Trapped in the confines of his own whirling thoughts, Harry didn't hear anyone approach him until a soft voice came from somewhere directly behind him. "I thought you might be here."
Harry stiffened, recognizing Hermione's voice; it really hadn't changed since their years here together. Pushing off from the wall where he had been crouched in the small nook on the window ledge of one of the few remaining abandoned rooms at the top of the South Tower, Harry straightened his tall form. Idly rubbing his back from where it had been in an awkward position for so long, the raven-haired man made to exit the room with out ever saying a word to the unwanted intruder.
"Harry wait, please don't go." Hermione reached out towards him.
Stopping only to remove the hand on his arm that was trying to prevent him from leaving, Harry turned to look into the pain-filled brown eyes of a person who had once been one of the two people closest to him in all the world. "What do you want?" Harry asked tiredly, not wanting to call her either Weasley or Hermione so he didn't bother to call her anything.
Removing her hand from his arm as though she had touched a hot iron, Hermione bit her lip. Ever the brave and confident Gryffindor, now that she was actually alone face to face with Harry for the first time in over five years, Hermione wasn't sure what to say to him. Oh, she knew in her mind how she wanted this conversation to go, having played it over and over again using many different scenarios since the day that Dumbledore had told them that Harry hadn't killed Ginny and Colin. Each scenario, regardless of the exact words that were spoken or the atmosphere that they were spoken in, always ended the same way, with Harry forgiving her. But somehow now, facing the man that she had so terribly and irrevocably harmed, she somehow doubted that forgiveness was going to be granted that day.
"Harry, please I only want a moment of your time." Hermione couldn't prevent her voice from shaking slightly. "I…I…need to speak with you, please," she pleaded afraid that he would once more turn away from her.
Harry reached up and ran a hand through his mussed hair, as he was in the habit of doing when nervous or uncertain about something. Hermione was the one person that he had not really dealt with since his return to Hogwarts. She was at the Order meetings, but her role was primarily related to research and strategy and she didn't participate in either the physical training sessions or the actual battles. Harry got gotten pretty good at avoiding her completely, hoping that if he ignored her long enough that she would just go away and leave him in peace. However, he should have known better, Hermione was much too persistent to let go when something was important to her and for whatever reason, apparently this conversation was important.
When they were back in school one night a bunch of their classmates had sat up late into the night speculating what form their animagus transformation would take, if they were fortunate enough to become an animagus. It had been an almost unanimous decision that Hermione would have been an owl due primarily by her intelligence and book smarts. But Harry had been the one dissenter, believing instead that Hermione would have been a bulldog, known for their tenacity and unwillingness to give up. Harry reasoned that there had to be a reason that the sorting hat had put the girl in Gryffindor as opposed to Ravenclaw. It had been a long-standing joke throughout the tower.
Nodding his assent, Harry sat back down on the windowsill and motioned for Hermione to join him.
"First of all Harry, I wanted to thank you for saving Fred's life. If it wasn't for you, he'd probably be insane or dead right now, and the family couldn't have handled losing him, not so soon after losing George." She shook her head when it looked like Harry was going to stop her. She remembered how Harry always hated to be thanked for something that he felt anyone would have done had they been in his position.
Hermione swallowed, her mouth suddenly very dry, before she continued. "Look Harry, I've been meaning to talk to you for a while now, but it has been difficult to find sometime when you were alone. It seemed like you had been avoiding me…not that I'd blame you if you were." Hermione quickly added the last bit when Harry raised his eyebrows at her accusation.
"This is really hard, so I would just appreciate it if you let me talk without interruptions, and then when I'm finished you may say whatever you'd like. Okay?"
Again Harry nodded, not sure he trusted himself to open his mouth; sure that something sarcastic and harsh would come out.
Hermione offered him a small smile, then the smile faded as quickly as it came and her eyes teared up. "Oh God Harry, I'm so very sorry. I can't even image what horrors you went through, and I know that sorry is so very inadequate." She was twisting her hands so hard that Harry was afraid that she might dislocate her fingers. "I don't blame you for not forgiving Ron or I for the parts that we played back in seventh year and you are right. We should have known better. We should have had more faith in the person who we loved like a brother. We should have trusted what our instincts were shouting at us. But Harry, we didn't. And because we didn't, a person who meant the world to us had to suffer more than any person should ever have to." Hermione was crying so hard by this point that it was difficult to understand her.
"I just needed to tell you that I really did love you, you know. You were my strength, my support system, the one person that I could count on to help me pull my nose out of a book and focus on the world around me." She paused to wipe at the tears that were freely running down her face.
The whole time that Hermione was talking, Harry was trying desperately to remind himself that this wasn't the same girl that had helped him thorough countless History of Magic and Potions classes. That she wasn't the same friend that had believed in him in second year when the school thought that he had been the Heir of Slytherin and responsible for the attacks; and, again in fourth year when no one else would believe that he hadn't willingly put his name in the Goblet of Fire, she had been there. This person sitting here so close to him wasn't the same one that had work tirelessly to help him learn the summoning charm and so many other spells and curses during his first six years at Hogwarts. Harry was in an emotional turmoil. Every instinct in him called out for him to reach out to this suffering soul and ease her misery. But he just couldn't do it. He just couldn't forgive her for not standing by him at that one critical juncture that had turned his life upside down.
"Ron and I don't deserve to have someone like you in our lives, Harry. It's amazing how even after everything that you've been through; you are still so good, so pure." Her tears had started to slow down a bit.
"At first, I couldn't believe that you had actually come back here to fight in this God awful mess, but then I had always underestimated you, haven't I? You are the only person that I know that consistently puts the wants and needs of others before his own, present company included. And that is something to be so very proud of." Hermione took a deep breath. "I'm proud of you, Harry. You have done wonders with your life. You have two beautiful and amazing children and people in your life that truly love you." Hermione's thoughts turned briefly to his obvious relationship with Draco Malfoy. At first the fact that the two men were lovers and companions was hard to accept. Not because they were both men, but because this was Malfoy they were talking about. The same Draco Malfoy who had consistently went out of his way to make the Gryffindor Trio's lives miserable. But seeing them together these past months, made Hermione realize that there was much more to Draco than they had ever realized. He was just another person that they had misjudged. It was very apparent that Draco and Harry shared a love that few people are ever fortunate enough to witness let alone participate in. It was equally clear that Draco loved Harry's children to distraction as well. It was commonly accepted through out the castle to think about Harry, Draco and the twins as a singular family unit.
Knowing all this Hermione raised her eyes and stared beseechingly at Harry. "I know that you will never forgive me for what I did to you. I ruined our friendship and could have ruined your life. I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I just wanted you to know that I am so terribly sorry and that I still care for you very deeply."
Almost like the air coming out of a balloon, Hermione seemed to deflate right before Harry's eyes when she finished her speech. With all the other shit on his mind right now, he really didn't want to have to deal with this tonight as well, but now there was no getting around it. Leaning back against the stone wall and crossing his arms defensively, Harry put as much distance between him and her as he could. Making a decision, Harry addressed the distraught women.
"I loved you too. Besides Sirius, you and Ron were the only ones that I considered family." Harry studied the stone window casing as he tried to convey what he was feeling all those years ago. "I will never be able to get over what it felt like when I realized that both you and Ron thought that I was capable of doing such despicable acts towards two people that I considered to be close and personal friends. Hell, Ginny was almost like a little sister to me. You are right Hermione; I will never be able to forgive you. You nearly destroyed me."
Harry heard a soft sob at his confirmation of her previous statement. "If someone else had gotten into the type of trouble that I had, the first person that they would have turned to for help would be their parents, their family. But you see my parents had already given their lives for me and for everyone else in this God forsaken community. I was an orphan; I had no family to speak of. There was no one that I could turn to for help. Hell, Sirius was still on the run from the Ministry when I was arrested."
"I could have forgiven you for how you treated me in the Great Hall. We were all in a state of shock, but later I would have expected you to see things for what they truly were, but you never did. You and Ron were my family, and you deserted me when I needed you the most."
"We'll never be what we were to each other; I just can't let myself get that close to you again. It hurt entirely too much the first time and I have too much going in my life right now to set myself up to take another emotional fall like that. I won't avoid you, and I will be civil to you, but that is all I can offer right now." Not wanting her to cry anymore, Harry felt the need to keep talking. "I am hopeful that someday, maybe we'll be able to sit back and reminisce about the good times like the old friends that we used be, but I just can't be that friend to you now."
Having said all that he felt needed to be said, Harry stood up once more to leave. As he got to the door, Hermione asked one last question. "Back in seventh year, why didn't you ever tell us about finding the Book of Souls and about your mother being Molly's and Tom Riddle's daughter?"
Turning, Harry took in the crumpled figure still sitting on the windowsill. "I don't really know. I guess it was partly because it was such a terrible secret that I needed a lot of time to process it myself. I also didn't want anymore attention than I already had, and knew that if it leaked out that Voldemort was my Grandfather that the publicity would be terrible, not to mention that I didn't want Voldemort to find out about our relationship. I would have told you eventually, but I wasn't ready by the time that I was arrested. However, it did make me happy when I realized that Molly was my grandmother. Up until my arrest, she had always been my surrogate mother, so it was nice to find out that she was truly a mother to me of sorts. I just needed some time to work through my own feelings about the matter before coming out about it."
Hermione looked up at the strong man and saw how vulnerable he had been as a seventeen-year-old; some of that vulnerability was still in evidence today. The words 'I was an orphan' had hit her hard. All the time that they had been friends, she had never pictured Harry as an orphan. Sure everyone knew that his parents had been killed, but somehow the reality of that just never seemed real. Maybe it was because everyone always thought of Harry being so strong, almost larger than life. No one wanted to picture their hero as a lost lonely scared little boy with no parents.
"Please excuse me, but I've been gone for awhile now and my family is sure to be worried." Sparing the young women only one more brief glance, Harry turned and walked out of the room.
* * *
Draco sadly watched Harry run around the school grounds from their apartment balcony. To most observers, it would just appear as though Harry was out exercising, but Draco knew better. Harry was doing more than working on his physical fitness; he was escaping. Harry ran as though the demons from hell itself were chasing him. It seemed that the battle had made things even more real for Harry, and the Founder's heir once more felt the full weight of the world rest once more on his slender shoulders.
Faster and faster, he ran until he physically couldn't push himself to move any faster. Just when Draco thought that Harry would have to slow down, he was once more surprised when Harry gradually began to change. Then in mid-stride, two feet moving over the long soft grass became four.
Draco had never before seen Harry's third animagus form, although he had suspected that he had one and what form it was. The clues had been there in the painting that Harry had hanging over his bed back in California. The dark, black form of a large powerful cat if anything increased its speed, and soon all that Draco could see was a small speck where as the sleek animal ran out of his field of vision.
Draco was worried. It had taken Harry a long time to recover his strength after the battle. Even now, over a week later, Harry's face still sported dark circles under his eyes.
It could partly be due to the fact that his body just wasn't used to expending that much energy, but Draco wasn't satisfied that Harry's exhaustion was just attributable to that. Evan was still getting up occasionally during the night having nightmares and Harry always got up and comforted his son, even when Draco insisted that he would take care of Evan. But even on the nights, when Draco was sure that Harry had gotten a full night's sleep, he still woke up tired the evidence of which showed prominently on his face. There had to be something else going on there, but Draco was at a loss as to what it could possibly be.
Since the battle, Harry was pushing himself even harder. He would train for hours on end with little or no breaks. Almost as though he was determined to force his body to be able to accommodate the large outpouring of magic that would ultimately need to be expended in future encounters with Death Eaters. His dueling had become so fierce that Draco and Severus were the only ones that ever volunteered to spare with him, as everyone else always ended up battered and bruised. His body, that had previously been in great shape, had somehow become even more defined and slightly more muscular.
A soft hand on his arm alerted him to Nicole's presence. She must have been watching Harry as well. "He just doesn't get it, does he?" she asked quietly.
It was on the tip of Draco's tongue to ask what specifically Nicole thought that Harry didn't get, as Draco knew that there were many things that the stubborn man refused to acknowledge. Feeling it was safer to just shrug, Draco returned to staring at the point where he had last seen Harry.
"He doesn't understand how much he means to everyone," she continued.
Draco wasn't the least bit shocked at Nicole's perceptiveness. She was a very bright witch and it really didn't take long to see how the people at Hogwarts treated Harry. Harry was the center of attention immediately upon his entrance into a room, regardless of who else was there or what else was happening at the time. In meetings or discussions, Harry rarely offered his opinions, but when he did, his suggestions or comments were treated as if they were worth gold. People deferred to him in all things. Not that Harry ever cared or wanted the attention.
Harry never even noticed how all the faces of the children would light up just at seeing him even at the day care when they would go to pick up the twins after their play session was over. Harry very simply had an amazing affect on people. It was just too bad that he didn't see all this for himself. The man was entirely too critical of himself, placing unreasonable expectations on himself that no one would be able to met.
Draco sighed despondently knowing that Harry wouldn't return until he had been able to excise the demons that haunted him, at least on a temporary basis.
* * *
A few days later, Harry and Draco went to pick up the twins from their afternoon play session at the daycare. However when they got there, they saw a very frazzled daycare witch standing next to Evan, who was crying softly and sporting a bloodied lip.
Harry didn't even have time to properly assess the situation, before Draco started spouting off. "What the hell happened here?' the blonde man demanded angrily, stooping down to take a closer examination of Evan's lip.
"Mister Malfoy, please watch your language, you are in a day care center for small children," the day care matron reprimanded.
Draco sneered at the older women. "You haven't even begun to hear the extent of my language; now I suggest you do something useful and start explaining why Evan is standing here bleeding."
Giving Draco a disapproving look, the matron began her explanation. "Evan got into an altercation with another one of the students. Evan punched the other child in the eye first and she retaliated by punching Evan in the mouth."
Harry reached down and picked Evan up, not caring about the blood that he was getting on his robes. As soon as the small body was snuggled up to his own and Evan's cries had been reduced to whimpers, Harry asked him why he had gotten into the fight.
"She was a mean girl, Daddy."
"Who hit you Evan?" Draco soft voice masked his anger that someone had hurt his son. Harry shook his head warningly at the Slytherin, letting him know that losing control now would not be appropriate. Actually, Harry was trying to restrain himself from laughing at Draco. He was so overreacting. Evan wasn't really hurt, and from what the day care worker said, he had actually been the one that started the fight, so if anything the other child's parents had more of a right to be angry than they did. But Draco was just too damn cute when he was all protective.
"Becca did it," Matthew replied, as he made his way over to where his fathers and brother were standing in the front of the room.
"Who?" Harry asked, while Draco looked around the room trying to identify which child had assaulted Evan.
Matthew gave his father a disgruntled look, clearly expecting him to know immediately who he was talking about. "You know Daddy, the Weasel."
Harry tried to put Evan back down on the floor so that he could properly address his other son, but Evan had such a tight grip on his neck he knew that Evan wasn't going to be moving soon. "Matthew Harrison, what I have told you about calling people names?" Harry reprimanded.
Matthew put both of his hands on his hips and stomped his little foot in anger. "I not calling names, that her name, 'Becca Weasel'."
Harry looked over at his mate who had a sheepish expression on his face. Since their return to Hogwarts, Draco had reverted back to calling Ron by the name he had so often taunted the red head with back in school, and unfortunately he did so often when the boys were present. "Am I to assume that Ron's daughter is in this class?" It was now Harry's turn to keep a close watch on his temper.
"Yeah, their spawn started coming here a few days after we enrolled the twins."
Not that it really mattered, but Harry would have liked to know that Ron and Hermione's child was in the same class with his children. Heck, biologically the twins were cousins of a sort with this Becca girl. Nodding at Draco to let him know that they would indeed be discussing this further after the kids went to bed, Harry looked back down at Matthew.
"Sweetheart, did you see what happened?"
Matthew nodded.
"Will you tell me why Evan hit that girl?"
Matthew nodded again and then said in a loud accusatory voice. "She said bad things."
"What kind of things?" Draco asked watching a young girl who was sitting in the corner holding what looked to be a muggle ice pack to her eye.
"She said that Daddy was mean; that Daddy had made her mommy cry."
Harry sighed, he was afraid that something like this would happen. Sharing a knowing look with Draco over the top of Matthew's head, Harry made the decision to table the rest of this discussion for another day. "Okay, what she said wasn't very nice, but that was no reason to hit her. I don't want to hear any more reports of either of you getting into fights at school, understand?"
Seeing Matthew nod once again, and Evan whisper "okay," against his neck, Harry was satisfied, at least for now. Not being able to stand one of his children being in pain any longer, Harry directed his healing energy into Evan's small frame and his son's bloodied lip was quickly mended without the smallest trace that it had ever been damaged.
"What do you guys say about getting out of here? Let's go grab our brooms and go practice flying for a little bit; and, then when we come back in I'm sure if we ask nicely, we can get one of the house elves to bring us up some ice cream, what do you think?"
Knowing that he had just said the magic words he watched both Draco's and Matthew's faces light up and Evan's grip on him loosen. Since the boys had gotten the training brooms for their birthday, all they wanted to do was fly. And with parents like they had, who could blame them? It didn't shock anyone when both boys were soon zipping thought the air as fast as their training brooms would allow them, demonstrating exceptional natural ability.
A short time later, sharing a warm smile with his mate, Harry kicked off the ground and soon was zooming around playing with the children he adored above all else.
To Be Continued.