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

A/N: For the whining 'UK READER' who had the gall to get their knickers in a twist in a review; I am British. I live in London, England, and you would know ALL of this if you had bothered to read any of the rest of this story. Just because I mentioned ONE Americanism about S'Mores of all things, does not make me Non-British.

I have NEVER referred to a mobile phone as a CELL PHONE. I have NEVER called a pavement a SIDEWALK. I have NEVER used any other Americanism, other than writing for an American character, or when a story IS SET IN America. Not to mention, porridge is dull. Regardless of when this story is set, I am NOT going to agonise over making my characters eat a joyless bowl of MUSHY PORRIDGE every morning. If they want to experiment and have pancakes -not sure that's been written yet but even so -then they can damn well have pancakes.

This is a story about WIZARDS and MAGIC. I'm all for realism, and believe me I do my best to obtain it, but if my WIZARDS want to have PANCAKES they can damn well have them.

I do not appreciate being trashed on for making ONE Americansim in a story that has over 70,000 words. I know we're all in lockdown, but kindly get a grip and go troll someone else on the internet.

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Also, I will like to point out that any ANONYMOUS trolls whining about me deleting reviews that have 'constructive criticism'; I'm all for it, as long as it IS constructive. You having a pissing parade because you don't like DRARRY is NOT constructive. Any and all flames that are anonymous will be deleted. If you want to review critically, grow some balls and log-in.

Chapter Nineteen

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"Were you able to complete all the potions I set for you, Mr. Malfoy?" Slughorn asked as he waved his wand, sending the clean cauldrons off to one side of the room.

"Yes, Professor. I have the five samples." Setting his bag on one of the wooden desks, Draco carefully extracted the glass phials. He had labelled them all and had asked Remus to cast a few charms on them so that they couldn't be tampered with. He carried them over to Slughorn's desk and set them down, his palms feeling a little clammy.

He had done his best to do as much research as possible and create the five potions that Slughorn had asked for. He knew he had brewed them correctly and followed the instructions to the letter. It wasn't that the potion's had been too hard -Draught of the Living Dead, a Calming Draught, Skele-Gro, Pepper-Up and a Volubilis Potion -however, Draco couldn't help but wonder of Hogwart's was running out of the basic necessities in the hospital wing.

Holding each glass phial up to the light, Slughorn peered at them closely. Not that it would tell him too much, other than if the colour was correct.

"They all look remarkable, dear boy. I shall have them tested and send an owl over to you with the grade. So far, I am impressed. I have students in seventh year who aren't able to brew this well."

"Thank you, sir."

"Have you turned your hand to anything else, other than what I assigned you?"

"One or two things, but they haven't finished brewing yet."

"You're welcome to send a sample to me," Slughorn offered, setting the phial down. "It can be considered extra-curricular work."

Draco furrowed his brow. "Why would you want to help me, Professor? After last year I ..."

"You are a skilled potion-maker, Mr. Malfoy. Talent speaks for itself." He looked across the desk at the awkward blonde before him. "Have you any ideas of what you might want for a career once you graduate?"

Draco scoffed, "With all due respect, Professor, I will be surprised if I graduate. That will be the high point of my life, thus far. I don't plan on getting a job, or making any noise for the world to focus on."

"Mr. Malfoy I know the wounds of the war are still raw for some people -"

"For everyone, sir. No one is about to take a chance on a Death Eater."

"You were cleared of all charges."

"And even that didn't stop you from not wanting me in your class."

They stared at one another. Slughorn didn't look guilty, exactly, but he didn't try to argue the point either. Eventually he sighed and nodded. "If you change your mind, Mr. Malfoy, I may be able to put in a good word for you for an apprenticeship."

As much as Draco wanted to demand more information, to sink his teeth into the breadcrumb of salvation and hold on, he didn't. He took a deep breath, inclined his head and said, "It won't happen, but thank you."

Slughorn hummed. "I shall see you next Friday."

"Yes, sir. Have a good week." Exiting the dungeon, Draco saw Auror Buxley a few feet away. "That was the last one," he said as he came level with the cloaked figure. His bag was definitely lighter now, even with the charms Sirius had put on it for him.

"Do you need to collect anything else before Monday?" Buxley asked.

Draco shook his head.

They made their way to the DADA office. It was Remus' week working. Buxley knocked on the door. Upon entering, he exchanged pleasantries with Remus and then used the floo to return to the Ministry of Magic. As soon as the green fire settled back into red embers, Draco collapsed into the chair across from Remus. "I had being dragged here every week."

"It could be a lot worse," Remus chuckled. "How are your professor's?"

"They seem to be liking my work so far, a few minor points to refine or improve on, and Slughorn tried to offer me help in finding a career after graduation."

Remus quelled his initial reaction, and leaned back in his chair. "I'm assuming this doesn't appeal to you, though I can't imagine wanting to turn done a chance at a normal life."

"It won't be though, will it? Even if I get this one chance, no one else is going to want to bother with me because of this wretched mark on my arm," he sneered the last few works, his nails digging into said covered mark. "It haunts everything I do."

"Welcome to my life, Draco," Remus gave a dry chuckle. "I've lived with my own curse since I was seven. I want to tell you that it gets easier, and in some cases it does. It definitely helps if you have friends in places where you might be able to get a decent job, but then that doesn't guarantee the people you'll work with will give you an easy time either."

"I know."

"Life will come and go with it's trials, Draco. You just need to find a way to weather through them." They sat in silence for a little while before Remus stood up and clapped him on the shoulder. "Do you want to go down to the kitchens for lunch? I'm starved, but I am not in the mood to deal with students today."

"Don't you have another two classes today?"

"Don't remind me," the man gave a defeated smile and shook his head. "It'll be over soon enough."

.

Sprawled out on his bed, Draco was flipping through some books hoping that there were some ways to get rid of or hide the remnants of his Dark Mark that didn't need continued application or a lot of time dedicated to it. Other than glamours and potions it looked as though there wasn't any more permanent solutions to it. He couldn't help but think that, even with his name and face plastered all over the Prophet for weeks, without the Mark on his arm, he might have a slightly better chance at a future career. Or any type of future, really.

It was a stupid idea to try and hide it, but he needed to start taking a little more control of his future, and that meant starting small and building up towards allowing Slughorn to help him. That meant, trying to find a better solution to concealing his Dark Mark.

Hours of researching it, however, were making him feel a little anxious. Cursed marks were often declared cursed for a reason; there was no getting rid of them. However, it was fading by the day, some parts were now only scabbed pieces of flesh as opposed to a black mark on white skin. He'd gone through several books with questions burning in his brain. Magic was able to do a lot of things, but not hide the mistakes that a terrified young boy had made?

What was he supposed to do then?

Hermione.

Hermione would know of something surely? People didn't call her the smartest witch of her age for no good reason -even if he did find the title a little big-headed. Shifting off his bed and to the small writing desk in the corner, Draco scribbled out a quick note and then made his way up a flight of stairs to the study where Archimedes snoozed on his perch. Once the note was tied to the owl's leg and it flew out of the window, Draco debated on loitering in the study, before deciding to go back to his own room. The owl would find him wherever he was.

Getting back to his book, he picked up where he'd left off in the text and was making some more detailed notes on a vanishing potion, when a tap came from his window. Reaching out to take the note from the owl's leg, Draco unrolled the parchment and frowned at the words.

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'Evening Draco,

Muggles have numerous methods for getting rid of, or hiding, marks on their body. Ask Remus about muggle tattoo's; I think the cursed magic will interfere with any magical variation.

Good luck!

Hermione'

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Tattoo's, eh?

He would definitely have to ask Remus about that first chance he got at dinner time. Glancing at the clock on his desk, he sighed before heading down to the kitchen. Sirius was already there with Potter in his spot at the table, and Teddy in his baby-carrier. Sirius was reading through a muggle cookbook, his brow furrowed in concentration. At the sound of Draco's footsteps he looked up and smiled.

"Hey kid, you wanna help your old man do some cooking?"

"My old man?" he frowned, stepping down into the kitchen.

"Muggle phrase. Want to help cook?"

"Uh sure. What did you have in mind?"

"Shepherds pie. I already have all the mince ready, I just need help with the rest."

Draco rolled his sleeves up, not bothering to protest, and followed Sirius' directions in what needed to be chopped up and where to put it. As they worked, Potter happily colouring at the kitchen table, Draco turned to his cousin with the question that had been burning in his brain for the last forty minutes. "Sirius, what are muggle tattoo's like?"

The knife nearly slipped out of Sirius' hand. He turned a surprised expression to Draco, "Why do you want to know? Thinking of getting a little ink?"

Draco frowned even more. "No ... tattoo's, I want to know about them."

"Why the sudden interest?"

"Hermione mentioned that's what muggles use to cover scars or other things they want covered up ..." he trailed off.

"And you think this is going to help cover your Dark Mark?" Sirius finished for him.

His cheeks heated up. "Yeah ... Do you think it would work?"

"I don't see the harm in finding out," Sirius shrugged, returning to chopping some onions. "If you do decide to get tattooed, however, I'm warning you now it's going to hurt like a bitch."

"I lived with Voldemort in my house for over a year ... I think I can take it."

Sirius cast a look at the smug teen. He transfigured an onion peel into a needle, reached out and jabbed Draco's arm.

"HOLY FUCKING MERLIN WHAT THE HELL SIRIUS?!"

"Still think you can handle a tattoo? They etch it into your skin with needles, and it can last for hours."

Rubbing his arm, Draco glared up at his cousin wheedling the needle. "Alright, fucking hell! Muggles have painful shit too, I get it!"

"Daddy! Draco said a bad word!"

Sirius chuckled, "Yes he did, pup, and he's been told off for it."

Draco scowled at his cousin. "Fuck you," he hissed under his breath, resuming what was left of the chopping.

"Remember Draco, Harry may not be able to hear you ... but I can." The grin he shot Draco's way made the blonde's stomach drop. Taking the knife from his cousin, Sirius gestured to the table. "Why don't you set up? Remus should be home within the hour."

Pulling a disgruntled face, Draco dug out the cutlery from the drawer nearest the sink, grabbed some kitchen roll and started setting the table for the four of them. Potter took the napkin from him and gleefully folded them into triangles, but Draco refused to smile at the kids shit-eating grin. He refused! Once done, he was torn between returning to his room and sitting in silence.

"Draco, can you help me colour?" Potter asked.

He quirked an eyebrow. "Colour?"

"Yeah I drew you on a broom, but I need help to colour it in."

Draco scowled at the grin Sirius shot him over his shoulder, before he settled into the chair adjacent to Potter and reached for the green crayon. It wasn't half bad of a picture, all things considered. Of course his head wasn't that round, nor his hair that yellow, but for a kids drawing it was decent. Adjusting the drawing between them, he started to colour the boxy body in green.

"Why are you wearing green?" Potter asked.

"Because I was in Slytherin house," Draco explained. "Our Quidditch uniform was green and silver."

"Oh. It looks like fun! I can't wait to play Quidditch!"

"Maybe when you're a bit older," Draco teased.

"What colour should I wear though?"

"Well ... How about red and gold?"

Potter paused in thought. "But if I wear red and gold ... that means we're not on the same team."

"Right ..."

"Don't you want to be on my team?"

"You can be on whatever team you like," Draco deflected. "Any colour you want."

"Okay! Look, I drew me too!" he reached for another doodle, this time the person had big green eyes and black scribbly hair.

"Oh that ... uh ... looks a lot like you."

Sirius snorted from the other side of the kitchen. His back was to them as he started washing the pots and pans. Draco scowled at his cousins back. Potter had started to colour the picture of himself in ... green.

"You want to wear green too?" Draco asked.

"Yeah! This way we are on the same team!"

Draco didn't have the heart to argue. He continued to help colour the drawings in until he heard the distant sound of the floo roaring to life from across the hall. After about five minutes, Remus stepped down into the kitchen, looking a little disheveled.

"Thank Merlin you have dinner cooking, I am too worn out to even think right now," he groaned sinking into the nearest chair and dropping his head into his hand.

"Hello to you too, dear," Sirius cocked his head to one side, his teasing tone almost covering the affection look on his face. "Butterbeer?"

"Please."

"We have butterbeer?" Draco perked up. "I haven't had that for months!"

"Good thing I stocked up then," Sirius grinned. He placed a butterbeer in front of their three chairs, and a pumpkin juice for Potter. "Dinner will be ready in about five minutes."

Remus nodded, his attention focusing on his son. The baby's hair flashed bright blue as he grizzled at his dad for attention. "You missed me, hm? Aw I missed you too, you little trouble-maker." He tickled Teddy's little feet, making the baby squeal with delight and bang his rattle on the edge of his carrier. "So what did I miss this afternoon?"

"Nothing much, except that Draco wants to get a tattoo."

"A tattoo?"

"A muggle tattoo."

"Oh," Remus pulled a face. "Those hurt a lot, even with the numbing cream."

Draco rolled his eyes, continuing to colour so that he had something to focus on. "It was just something I was looking into to ... to cover my Mark."

"Huh. Would that even work on cursed flesh?" Remus pondered out loud. "Your Mark has faded hasn't it?"

"It's fading, yes. Scabbing over as well."

"In that case, I'm almost positive a muggle tattoo wouldn't interfere with it. It will hurt though, and takes a while to heal properly."

"I could brew a salve to help heal it quicker," Draco argued, even though this was all happening quickly. He needed to do a lot more research on the matter. He'd be marking his skin for life, he'd already made that mistake once before. His stomach clenched tightly at the memory. "I still don't know enough about it all, yet."

"I do know a guy who does muggle tattoo's," Sirius said. "I got majority of mine done from him. He doesn't work too far from St. Mungo's. We could pop in there on the way back from Harry's eye appointment."

Draco saw Potter's little face scrunch up in distaste but he didn't argue the matter.

"Uh ... yeah I can come along if it's not a bother?"

"Don't be silly, it's a minor detour at best."

"Are you sure you should be taking Harry into that sort of environment?" Remus frowned. "I'll come with you guys, then I can take Harry somewhere else while you two go and harass innocent muggles."

Sirius laughed. "And on that cheery note, dinner is served!"

.

The following Monday saw the make-shift little family making their way through the labyrinth of corridors of St. Mungo's. The sterile white and green walls made Draco's insides contract, and the sharp stench of disinfectant seemed to be rubbing Remus up the wrong way; the man kept rubbing at his eyes and nose and even sneezed as they went up in the lifts.

"It's as bad as allergies and twice as potent," he'd grumbled, more to himself, but Sirius still rested a soothing hand on his companions shoulder, kneading gently at the taut muscles.

"We'll park you by the window," Sirius teased quietly.

Remus huffed and made to adjust Teddy before frowning. He'd taken his son to Andromeda's for the day, and the absence of the child weighing on his chest was like a phantom limb. He shook the thought aside as the lift announced that they'd arrived.

Draco followed the two men and Potter into the office they'd gone into last time. As he passed other medi-witches and Healers long the corridor, he kept his head down and his eyes on the floor. He may be wearing his nicest muggle clothes for when he went to the tattoo parlour later, but his shock of white-blonde hair was an indistinguishable Malfoy trait. If he truly wanted to go unnoticed, he'd have to change the colour of his hair.

Healer Rodrik closed the door behind them and smiled as he settled down behind the desk. "So, we're going to get our first pair of glasses today, aren't we?" he beamed down at Potter, who in turn shifted awkwardly in his chair. His legs dangled high off the floor and his green eyes didn't want to focus on anything for longer than a second. "Has there been any trouble since our last appointment?" Rodrik asked the elders.

"No, he's been fine," Remus replied.

"No bumping into things?"

"He's complained of a few headaches, but nothing so bad as to require potions," Sirius informed.

"Good, excellent. Now I have the lenses ready, we just need little Harry to choose what frames he'd like to have."

"Do you hear that Harry?" Sirius gently nudged Potter's hands that were in his lap. He didn't seem to be listening. "You get to choose whatever glasses you like."

Green eyes finally looked up. "What if ... hmm."

"What if what, love?"

"What if ... people think my glasses are silly?"

"Then we'll just have to set Remmy on them, won't we?" Sirius grinned. Potter gave a sheepish smile back.

"Sirius!" Remus hissed. "Don't threaten imaginary people with violence."

"I wasn't threatening them with violence," Sirius replied evenly. "You can give quite a tongue-thrashing when you're displeased."

Remus scowled, but chose not to reply anymore.

"Would you like to choose what type of glasses you want, Harry?" Rodrik probed gently. Potter nodded. With a flick of his wand, at least twenty different style of childrens glasses appeared in the air, just at eye-level with Potter.

It took him all of three minutes to choose a pair of navy blue 'square' glasses with tiny silver stars along the arms.

"Good choice. They're my favourite too," Rodrik winked at Potter, making the kid beam. With a few intricate incantations, the new lenses were fitted into the glasses. "All done. It may take him a little while to adjust to these, but overall see how he goes over the next few months with them and then we can re-test his eyesight when he's older."

"What age roughly?" Remus asked.

"Let's say ... eight, then we can see if he needs a stronger prescription."

With the new glasses in hand, and the promise to report an abnormalities to Healer Rodrik, the foursome said their goodbyes and were soon out on the streets of Muggle London.

The cold air was brutal and made Draco burrow his chin deeper into the plush warmth of his coat. His hands were deep in his pockets, and he was already tense and eager to get inside somewhere warm. Sirius handed Remus the glasses and wound his scarf around his neck before glancing around. "Right," he said, "Who's doing what?"

"I think it's too cold to go anywhere else," Remus said. "I think I should take Harry to Andromeda's. It's far too cold for him out here."

"Are you sure?" Sirius frowned. "Draco and I won't be long."

"Honestly, it's fine. We'll get nice and warm, won't we Harry?" The kid nodded, huddling closer to Sirius for warmth. "Besides, this way you don't need to rush anything and Draco can get as much information as he likes."

"Well ... if you're sure," the man frowned, clearly displeased that Remus was so eager to hurry away.

Remus looked at Sirius for a moment; the man really was like a dog sometimes, displeased whenever his owner had to nip outside without him for a few moments. "Floo us when you're home, and we'll come straight over."

"Okay," he sighed.

"Come on, Harry, let's go and see Andromeda and Teddy," Remus held out his hand and Potter quickly latched onto it, waving over his shoulder as Remus took him down the street to the nearest apparition point.

Draco and Sirius watched them go, the faint 'pop' indicating that they were alone. Sirius shook himself back to reality after a few moments and cleared his throat. "Right, the guy I know is down this way. It's about a fifteen minute walk."

"Can't we just apparate there?" Draco asked, hunching his shoulders around his ears.

Sirius cocked an eyebrow and sighed, "So lazy." He nudged Draco towards the mouth of an alleyway further down the road and held out his arm. Draco grabbed on tightly and felt the sickening tug on his navel as they apparated to a small, dark shop set into the side of the wall. It had a large white size above the shop front declaring 'TATTOOOOOOOOOOOOZE!' Draco barely had time to take it all in before Sirius was dragging him towards the door. The interior was as dark as the exterior; with tons of drawings adorning the walls, some in colour and some in black-and-white. There was a desk with no one behind it, and a corridor that led deeper into the shop. A faint, metallic buzzing could be heard from behind one of the closed doors.

"Should we ... er ... call someone?" Draco asked.

"They're all busy," Sirius said. "We'll have to wait until they finish up with their customers. Come on." He led Draco over to the few comfortable chairs by a coffee table.

It took about twenty minutes before there was movement.

"Alright, make sure you clean and change the dressings every eight hours okay?" a tall muscles man with a white beard and dark eyes clapped the back of a scrawny man no older than Draco, by the looks of things. Said scrawny man handed over a few muggles notes and then waved goodbye over his shoulder as he left the shop, shrugging into a puffy jacket as he ducked out the door.

Turning to them, the man's face split into a grin. "Sirius!"

"Hey Melvin!"

The two men hugged briefly, before the dark eyes landed on Draco, who had stood awkwardly. "Who's this then? He's too blonde to be one of yours."

"This is my cousin, Draco," Sirius beamed. "Draco, this is an old friend of mine, Melvin."

"Call me 'Vinny', everyone does. Well, except Sirius." He laughed, his voice was gruff and deep. "So what brings you to my neck of the woods?"

"Draco here was interested about tattoo's and wanted to get more information about them."

"Well, what do you wanna know, kid?"

Draco bristled a little at being called a 'kid' but didn't push the point. "I ... was wondering how they're applied and ... um ... the quality of them, I guess?"

"Well all you have to do is look at your cousin to see some of my early work."

Draco frowned, turning to Sirius. "YOU have tattoos?"

"Why is that the big surprise about me?" Sirius frowned. "Did you really think I didn't have any? Not to mention, did you really think I got them in AZKABAN?"

"I ... No, I suppose you wouldn't have."

Vinny walked over to the desk and crouched down. The sound of papers rustling was heard, before he emerged with a thick folder. He handed it over to Draco. "This is my most recent artwork, you can see a lot of different styles -I like to experiment -although I can generally adapt to whatever is required of me. Have you thought about what you would want?"

"I ... no, this is all a recent idea."

"How recent?"

"A day or two?"

"Wow, you are bold," Vinny laughed in a very similar manner to Sirius. "I appreciate you bringing the kid to me, Sirius. I'm honoured!"

"You've not done anything, yet!"

"Yet!"

As the two men joked back and forth, Draco flipped through the heavy folder in his hands. There were so many choices, from intricate vines, to flaming skulls, names in elegant script, and roses in various stages. What would he get? This was something that would be permanent, something he would have to live with for the rest of his life. What was he willing to commit to?

"So, any thoughts on what you'd want to get?" Vinny's gruff voice made Draco jump a little.

"I -I'm not entirely sure. These are splendid, though."

Vinny grinned. "I'm glad you like 'em. Listen, you don't need to make any choices right now. This is a huge deal, so only come back when you're one hundred percent sure you know what you want."

"O-kay. Thank you."

"No worries, kid. Sirius, I'll be seeing you, yeah?"

"Of course. Might even have another tattoo myself," he winked as he nudged Draco towards the door.

Back out in the frigid air, Sirius and Draco ducked their heads as they marched along the street to the nearest apparition point. "So ..." Draco huffed. "You have tattoos?"

"Several."

"Where?"

"Arms, chest, some on my back too. All muggle tattoos. So far at least."

"When did you get them done?"

"Before I was sent to Azkaban. Got a little addicted."

"Does it hurt?"

"Of course. You're essentially getting stabbed thousands of times," Sirius grunted. "It'll never not hurt."

Draco nodded his head, his face already turning numb from the cold. Around the next corner, they stepped sideways into an alley. He automatically reached out and took hold of Sirius' arm before feeling the all-familiar sickening tug on his navel.

With a soft 'pop' they were gone.

.

Today was a 'dessert' day and the make-shift family were enjoying large portions of ice cream at the kitchen table. Draco really did miss magic, especially as it allowed the muggle fridge to take almost six times what it should have been able to. Not that he was complaining. Butterscotch ice cream was quickly becoming his new favourite. He was listening to the latest antics of Sirius and Remus' students, mostly the third years who thought they were smart enough to outwit a teacher. Sirius was getting almost as bad a reputation as Mad-Eye Moody.

"Sirius, I don't think you can actually use that as a threat anymore, seeing as you were cleared of all charges," Draco stated with a smirk.

"Hardly any of these kids do any of the recommended reading for class, let along extra stuff on the side," Sirius huffed. "As far as they know I'm the big, scary, madman who went to prison for killing twelve people."

"You still can't use it as a threat!" Draco laughed.

"I think the one that amused me the most, was when he actually said he was good friends with the Dementor that used to guard him," Remus stated, adding more chocolate sauce to his ice cream.

Draco turned to his cousin with wide eyes. "You didn't? Did they actually believe you?"

Sirius let out a groan, "They're just so dumb! They're thirteen! I don't remember being that stupid at thirteen!"

"I do," Remus smirked.

"Cruel, Moony, so cruel."

"Daddy," Potter chimed up, "Why doesn't Teddy grow up like me?"

Sirius' eyebrows shot up into his hairline. Draco watched warily as Remus stroked his hand over Potter's hair. "You're special, Harry. Do you remember, we said that you are really the same age as Draco? But you had an accident."

"Oh ... I think so." He tapped his spoon gently against his plate. "So, I'm old like Draco in real life?"

"Yes, love, you are," Sirius smiled gently. "We're taking care of you until you're all grown-up again."

The little face scrunched up. "I don't want to grow up," he grumbled.

"Why not?"

"If I grow up, I won't be allowed to call you Daddy anymore and I really don't want to stop calling you Daddy."

Draco knew that, if he thought he had any form of a heart, it would have crumbled just a little bit inside him.

"Harry, love, you can call Remus and I anything you like," Sirius placated. He took Potter's small hand in his own and pressed a kiss to the small fingers. The air sparked a little. "You don't have to stop calling me 'daddy' just because you grow up."

"But if I stay young, you can be my Daddy forever!" Potter beamed, as though it was the most brilliant idea in the world.

The silence hung heavily over their heads.

"Harry, love, you can't be a little boy forever. You know that."

"Why not?" he pouted. "Peter Pan gets to be young forever! But he doesn't have a family, and I have you! So it's even better."

"Love, it's not safe for you to stay young forever. If you do, you won't get to have fun with your friends."

"We can play together."

Draco bit his lip, catching Remus' eye across the table. What was he to do? Remus gave a small shake of his head. Don't get involved.

"Harry," Sirius' voice was deeper now, firmer. "You are going to age as you always have. I will still be here for you."

"When I'm old again, you won't want to be my daddy anymore!" the child shouted, his cheeks red and his eyes shining.

From behind him, Draco could hear the plates and glasses starting to rattle and clink in their cabinets. He tenses, readying himself to duck under the table in case the glass windows of the cabinets shatter across the kitchen.

Sirius kept his voice level. "Harry, we've talked about this. Your tantrums won't change my mind."

"Why don't you love me?! You're meant to be my daddy, why don't you want to be mine?!"

"I am being yours, Harry."

"No you're not!"

More rattling. The woodwork in the kitchen seemed to creak and groan. Even the table seemed to quake.

"Harry that is enough! I am your father whether you like it or not and you'll do as I say!"

Potter let out a shriek, whether it was fear or his temper, Draco couldn't say.

He had just enough time to duck under the table as the glasses in the cabinet started popping, glass splintering everywhere. The tiles on the floor started to fracture and soot streamed down the chimney.

"Sirius!" Remus reached over to his friend, "You have to calm him down! He's going to get ill!"

Sirius pressed his lips into a thin line. Magic rushed around the room like hot air, sending dust and debris scraping against everyone's faces. Potter didn't seem to notice.

Kneeling down so that he was eye-level with the screaming child, Sirius placed his hands as calmly as he could on Potter's shoulders and leaned their foreheads together. The magic that oozed from Sirius' being was like a soothing balm, it seemed to spread slowly, thickly, touching out against Potter so that it calmed the tempest of his wayward magic.

"Harry, I need you to listen to me!"

The screaming stifled down almost instantly into choked, silent tears. Somehow this was worse to watch.

"I will always be your Daddy, Harry. I need you to know that okay?"

Potter hiccoughed, trembling, tears and snot rubbing down his ruddy face.

"I will be your Daddy for as long as you want me to be!"

"Even -even -if -I -want -you -forever?"

Sirius smiled and gave a jerking nod, "Of course, love. Until you tell me no, I will always be your Daddy."

Draco braced himself against the table leg, peering over to wear Potter seemed to deflate, the magic drained almost completely of his little body. He collapsed forward, satisfied, into Sirius' arms. The man wrapped the child in his arms tightly, burying his face into the mop of black hair and ... was that a tear? Clearing his throat, Sirius gathered Potter in his arms and made for the door. Remus stopped him before he climbed the steps to the hall and murmured a few words. Sirius nodded, his face wet and his hair disheveled, as he turned and carried Potter upstairs.

Straightening up from his hiding place, Draco brushed debris from himself and turned his eye to the mess in the kitchen. "Merlin ... it's going to take a lot to clean this up?"

"It shouldn't take long," Remus muttered warily. "I'll deal with the broken glass, can you sweep out all that soot from the fireplace?"

"S-sure," Draco said. "Don't you want to ask Kreacher to help?"

"I suppose we can if we must," Remus shrugged. "The elf is old, Draco. And frankly, house-elf or not, but I'm not convinced that anything that dresses in dirty pillowcases has any right to clean anything."

Draco wanted to protest, saying that the garb was what all house-elves wore, as giving them any form of uniform would free them from service. That Dobby had kept his bedchamber spotless at the manor, even when his hands were covered with plasters from ironing his hands. However, he didn't have the heart to argue, not tonight. So instead, he picked up the broom and dustpan from the corner, and started sweeping the grate on the promise that Remus would banish any dirt from his person before they went up to bed.

That night he barely slept, the episode of Potter's accidental magic hitting a little too close to home.

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed this update! Apologies for any spelling errors. Please read and review, it keeps me sane in these dull, long times of Lockdown. Hope you are all keeping safe and well.

1. Volubilis Potion - is a potion that alters the drinker's voice and can also be used to return someone's voice, ending the effects of a Silencing Charm.

Belle x