A/N: Thank you guys for being patient with me. Thank you to Fanofbellaandedward for proof-reading this for me! Thanks to Mizzrazz72 and Chocolatesauce18 for their reviews!

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters created by J.K. Rowling.

Chapter Nine

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"Have you thought anymore about returning to Hogwarts?" Sirius asked the following morning. He carried Potter against his chest with such ease, that Draco couldn't help but envy the tanned muscles.

Draco took a lick of his ice cream. "I don't think it's something I'd want to do. I can't go back there. Not after the things I've done."

Sirius nodded with a hum. He look a lick of the ice cream in his free hand and then offered it to Potter who opened his mouth wide and took a bite of the soft creamy mush. "Perhaps you should write to McGonagall about studying by yourself and taking the exams privately?"

Draco frowned as they walked down the high street. The shade was refreshing. "I doubt she'd want to do my any favours. Not after all the trouble I've caused."

Sirius sighed and came to a stop. Draco winced and stopped, too, refusing to look up and meet his gaze. "Listen to me, kid. Dumbledore saw something in you worth a second chance. I think I'm starting to get it, myself. Now if you don't want to deal with the other kids, then fine. I just –I don't want you to regret the chance of doing something more with yourself. You can at least get the theory exams done, right? Do the practical ones after they release your magic?"

Draco hadn't thought about any of it in such a practical way. He was a little stunned; if McGonagall did agree to such an arrangement, then he could pass his NEWT's without having to see any of his old classmates.

"That … doesn't actually sound like a bad plan," he hedged.

Sirius grinned wolfishly. "There you go! We can even get you the reading materials from Diagon before term starts."

"Sirius you don't need to waste your money on –"

"On what, Draco? On family? I'd cherish every moment of it!"

Draco frowned up at him as they resumed their casual stroll down the high street. They had yet to go into any shops. "Why would you cherish something so inane?"

"Maybe it's because I was in Azkaban for twelve years. It makes even the silliest things seem like a milestone."

The words sent a chill settling in Draco's stomach. He swallowed thickly, his appetite for the ice cream having vanished. He held onto the brittle cone, just so that he could take a cool lick every now and then to avoid speaking much.

Every so often Draco's attention was caught by something in one of the narrow, latticed windows. Sirius would come to a stop beside him and ask if he wanted to go inside, but Draco always found himself refusing. Truthfully, he wanted to see if he could find something for his mother, but there was no way to encompass the entire seaside town in just a single object or two. Neither Sirius nor Remus ever pressured him, though. Raking a hand through his blonde hair, he hurried to catch up to Sirius who had stopped outside another shop. There were strange racks and a bookcase propped up outside, almost reminiscent of Diagon Alley.

"What're you looking at?" Draco asked.

"I'm trying to find some postcards that I like," Sirius muttered in an offhand manner. "We've taken some nice photos, but I want something muggle to add into Harry's scrapbook."

Draco glanced at the ratty wire rack. It had loads of colourful cards on them depicting unrealistic versions of the town they were staying in. He peered closer, silently hoping that one of them would start moving –no such luck. Sirius plucked a few cards from the rack and then went over to peer at the counter. Draco glanced back at the cards. Would mother like one? They were so common in comparison to an elegant letter written on embossed parchment, however there was a quirky sort of charm to it. How much was 50p in sickles and knuts?

His stomach clenched in humiliation.

He'd never had to ask for money until now. He felt like a beggar.

"Draco? Did you see anything you liked?" Sirius called from the counter inside the shop.

His felt his body flush with embarrassment. He didn't even realise his cousin had came up behind him until he turned and almost collided with Potter's shoulder. "Sh –er –sorry. Didn't hear you."

Sirius frowned down at him. He kept his voice low as he asked, "Are you alright?"

"Fine."

A pause. "Did you want to get some postcards? I'm sure your mum would like one."

Draco twisted his mouth up, now wanting to divulge just how accurate Sirius' assumptions were. He shrugged nonchalantly and turned back to the rack. "I suppose she would like to know where you've been taking me," he stated.

Sirius hummed but didn't say anything. He took the postcards from Draco and went back to the counter to pay.

Once they were back out on the high street, Draco fidgeted with his hands in his pockets. "How much do I owe you for the cards?" he asked, keeping his head bent towards the pavement.

"Draco those cards didn't even cost me two quid, okay? It's nothing to worry over."

"Sirius can you just tell me?"

Sighing, the older man was quiet for a moment while he did the math. "It's about five sickles and three knuts for all three cards."

Draco nearly stopped in his tracks. "Is that all?"

"I told you it was nothing."

"S'rus! Want to go home!" Potter whined, kicking his little legs in agitation. "Too hot!"

"Alright, kid, alright. Do you want to go and have a nap with Teddy?"

"Yeah!" Potter grinned, completely forgetting that he was meant to be annoyed. "Sleep with Teddy."

"Now, don't you hug him too tight. He's still a baby."

Potter mumbled something but Draco didn't pay any attention. He was trying to pen the letter in his head. He hadn't written to his mother in over a month and, if her few letters were anything to go by, she was becoming increasingly worried. At least now he had something of note to report back to her.

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Later that evening, Remus asked Sirius if he fancied going to the pub down the road for a drink. From his position in the adjoining doorway, Draco could practically see the raised ears and the tail wagging. He knew what was coming before either man had dared to look at him; he was going to be babysitting Saint Nappy-Wearing Potter and Teddy. He gave a resigned sigh but accepted his fate on one condition; they had to show him how to work the strange, black box sitting on the chest-of-drawers.

He had seen images and heard noises coming from it the previous evening, but it unnerved him to have the thing looming in the corner of the room without knowing how to disarm or control it.

"Okay, Draco. This is called a television. Muggles use it to entertain themselves, or find our what's going on in the world," Remus explained. He held a long, black thing with a load of small squishie bits on it. "This is the remote. You can turn the volume up or down using these arrow buttons," he pointed to the volume buttons. "And these ones are to go up a channel or down a channel."

Draco felt even more confused than before.

"I get the volume," he lied. "But what's a channel?"

"A channel is a program. For example, one will have the news on it, so you can keep up to date with things in the muggle world. Almost like the Daily Prophet. Other channels with have things like documentaries on wildlife, there's the crime channel –"

"I don't want to watch people doing crimes!" Draco snapped.

Chuckling, Remus shook his head. "No, you won't. Sometimes it'll be about a crime in the past and they're acting out how it happened now that the case is closed. Other times it will be completely fictional."

The blonde frowned. "Well if it isn't real, why would I care about it?"

"It's entertainment."

"I don't see why."

"Well, try watching one and see how you like it."

Draco took the remote in his hand and turned it over again and again. "Are there other things to watch?" he asked absently.

"It varies from night to night," Remus stated over his shoulder as he looked at himself in the mirror. He was wearing basic muggle jeans –something Draco still didn't agree with as a fashion choice –and a white linen button-down shirt. The long sleeves worked well to hide his scar-laced forearms. The pale lines across his face were unavoidable, though. "Just flick through and find something you like. There's usually movies on Saturday nights at least."

Draco glanced up at the brunette with a frown. "What the hell is a movie?"

Remus gave him a patient smile. "It's like a fictional documentary. Or your favourite book acted out so that you can watch it instead of having to imagine it for yourself."

Draco sighed and raked a hand through his hair. "I guess I have the rest of the night to figure it out."

"Don't worry. Paddy yelled at his first ever T.V. for a week straight. He was convinced someone was locked inside it," Remus chuckled.

Draco's eyebrows rose in bemusement just as the aforementioned cousin came in from the bathroom with a freshly changed Potter in toe. "Right, we're all set," he grinned, indicating his russet coloured silk shirt and light trousers. He bent down and sat Potter on the same bed as Draco. "You be good for Draco now, do you hear my Harry?"

Potter blinked those large, green eyes and nodded eagerly. "Be good for Draco."

"Good boy," Sirius pressed a big, bristly kiss to the toddlers' forehead. Then he turned his attention to Draco. "Teddy's already down for the night," he nodded over to the cot. "But if he wakes up, just make sure he has everything he needs. He shouldn't be hungry, but if he is, just feed him a little bit, okay? We don't need him being sick."

Draco swallowed thickly, but nodded.

"Good. We won't be out too long."

"What if there's an emergency?" Draco asked, tensing at the idea of being defenceless against two children.

Sirius frowned. Thankfully, Remus came to the rescue. "It's okay. I have a mobile in case of emergencies." He took a napkin from the bedside table and wrote out eleven numbers. Draco frowned as he was handed the napkin. "Now, if there is any issue, pick up the phone, dial that number and wait for me to answer, okay?"

Draco fidgeted on the bed. He felt the burn of humiliation tarnishing the back of his skin. "I … Can you show me how to do it?"

"Sure thing," Sirius took the reigns and picked up an ugly, clunky white object littered with the same numbered buttons as the 'remote'. Draco frowned, leaning closer so that he could see exactly what Sirius was doing. Once the numbers had been punched in, in the correct order as written, he held the device to his ear and waiting.

A strange ringing sounded out, causing Draco to leap to his feet in alarm.

"Hey, hey it's okay!" Remus held up his hands in surrender. "That's just my phone."

Draco glared at him, his heart thumping heavily in his chest. "Why –Why did it make that noise?"

"So I knew that someone was trying to contact me."

Draco's throat felt tight. His eyes felt hot and irritated as Sirius replaced the 'phone' and straightened up. Both men wore a look on their face, a look that made Draco feel positively queasy. Pity. "We can stay home tonight if you'd like, Draco. Just say the word and we'll stay."

"No! It's –look, I'll be fine, alright?" he snapped. He turned his back on both men and settled back onto the bed. "Go out and enjoy yourselves."

'At least some of us should,' went unsaid.

Remus and Sirius exchanged a worried glance, however Draco began channel-surfing, effectively distancing himself from their presence. In the end, they decided to just go out for a couple of hours, leaving the blonde to explore the world of cutting-edge muggle technology.

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It took Draco all of half an hour to work out a system for the television; he went through all the channels several times and then started making notes on which ones would host what variety of show. That would be good for when he was alone. At that moment, he had Potter slumped back on the pillow beside him, jiggling his legs every so often to dispel the extra energy.

Great. The sodding Saint Potter was even able to dictate what to watch purely because of his age. It took another twenty minutes to find something that wasn't too distasteful for an infant, which seemed to be a hard feat past 8 o'clock at night.

Two programmes into the evening, Draco was amazed at what muggles deemed entertaining; not only were the ways to broadcast said 'shows' impressive, but the subject matter of most of these late-night shows were sometimes so well played-out that Draco felt drawn-in, almost like he was there with the characters instead of sitting on a bed with a babbling brat that seemed to like diving into the pillows.

Sooner or later, Potter would bash his stupid scarhead against the headboard.

Draco ground his teeth together.

"Draco! Look! I'm gonna dive into this shark tank!"

"There are no sharks, Potter," Draco intoned, not even bothering to look.

"The pillows are sharks."

"No, they aren't."

"You have to pretend they're sharks, Draco. That's how pretend works."

Draco ignored him.

He felt the brat scramble to his feet and dive head-first into the pillows, over and over again.

"Alright, that's enough!" Draco snapped. He reached out and grabbed Potter's wrist, forcing him to stop bouncing. His cheeks were flushed from exertion and his black hair was a rumpled mess. "No more jumping on the bed. You'll fall and hurt yourself."

"No. I'm careful!"

Draco glowered at the child. "I said 'no'. Anyway, it's past your bedtime."

"I don't like having the light on …" Wide green eyes dropped to the bed.

Draco frowned. Didn't Sirius say that Potter suffered from nightmares after the war? That he needed to sleep with the light on most nights? Why wouldn't he want the light on, unless …?

He didn't remember.

The thought slammed into Draco's chest like a brick wall.

Potter didn't remember anything about the war. He wasn't just suffering in silence like most of them, no. He had completely erased the last fifteen years of his life. He just wanted happiness, a whole family …

His heart twisted and ached in his chest. He felt his eyes and throat burn with suppressed anguish. He wasn't about to let it all out in front of Potter though, brat or not.

"Draco?" A small, warm hand touched his cheek and he flinched, almost knocking Potter over. Potter blinked up at him, his hand still on Draco's cheek. "I don't like you sad."

Draco blinked his eyes, trying to get rid of any shine in them. "Whatever you say Potter," he cuffed at his eyes quickly before clearing his throat. "Time for bed. Go on."

He tugged the covers off of one side of the bed. He quickly checked on Teddy; he was still sound asleep in his cot, his hair a fluffy lilac colour as he dreamed. Draco turned the lights off –light switches were one of the many muggle absurdities that he wished he could just 'incendio' at first sight –and turned the bedside lamp on. The room was instantly cosier.

"Better?" he asked, feeling worn-out.

Potter nodded from where he was dwarfed by big pillows.

"Good."

Draco turned the volume on the T.V. down and reclined back against the headboard, his own mind feeling tired. He really needed to get better sleep, but it evaded him at every turn. He was dimly aware of Potter burrowing into his side, the warmth of his little body the last thing that Draco remembered before he drifted off to sleep.

~0~

He was walking.

That's all his dreams felt like now; walking down long corridors made of black, shining marble. Just like in the Department of Mysteries. Just like his home.

There was a door at the end. He didn't need to touch it to know that it would open as soon as he neared.

He barely makes it over the threshold before hands dart out of the darkness and pin him to the cold wall. Nails dig into his flesh and he can hear cackling, but there's no one else around.

Red eyes blaze to life before him.

'Crucio!'

CRACK!

The bathroom door banged open and Draco yelled out at the sound. He doesn't remember how he got to the bathroom floor, nor why Sirius is snapping at Remus for him to go to the children. He's aware that he's shaking, that he's speaking nonsense but he can't control any of it.

He's face his soaked with tears and his nose is running. His body feels like it's burning up and his mind is about to melt out of his ears.

He isn't breathing … Why isn't he breathing?

Unlatching his jaw, he takes deep, gulping breaths through sobs. He heaved and sucked in air but it didn't help. It just fans the flames inside him. Everything hurts and he doesn't know why.

Cool hands touched his skin and everything inside him snapped, unravelled into oblivion and he continued to cry. His vision is blurred and he didn't understand what's happening. There's the tinkling of glass and the crunch of it being magically fixed together.

What had broken? The mirror?

His face his wiped despite his weak protests, and then washed clean, before he got bodily lifted off the bathroom floor and carried out. He picked up the smell of cologne and cool air clinging to Sirius' shirt and leaned into the soft fabric.

Cool, softness pressed against his back and he almost sighed with relief. His throat was raw.

It was dark … For the first time in ages he just wanted to lie in the dark and not have to see or face anything.

He drifted in a semi-conscious state for a while. He wasn't alone in his room. The bed dipped with the weight of another person. It should have terrified him, should have made his heart tremor with fear. However, he turned into the warmth, his raw, damp cheeks stinging as he hiccoughed on air. Cool arms cradled him and the soft fabric was against his forehead. A hand rubbed his back through his shirt. He hadn't been held like that, not since before the trials, since Mother …

A tear rushed down his cheek. His headache throbbed at the base of his skull. A thumb wiped the tear away. He swallowed past the lump in his throat, barely making out the soft noises in the adjoining room.

He fell asleep with his head against Sirius' chest.

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Sunday morning they packed everything up and took a leisurely train back into London. Everyone seemed rather subdued, whether from the heat or the lack of sleep, Draco couldn't really tell. He noticed Potter would look over at him across the table between them, but didn't speak. It was just as well. Draco didn't know if he was capable of talking without breaking-down.

The following day, he requested an appointment to see his therapist.

A/N: So my lovelies, this is to be the final update whilst I am away on holidays! I will be gone for three weeks -back on the 19th August -so please leave lots of love and reviews for me to read in my down time ;) Hope you all have a great summer!