We apologize greatly for ze' confusion.

Abraxas is Becoming Obsesed.

Syl is StarShineDC.

Abraxas just talks in third person... a lot.

I don't. I'm relatively sane.

I feel insulted by that.

Becoming Obsessed, just your average teenage girl who talks in third person. xD

And... Syl. StarShineDC. :/ The English Major who kicks my arse in writing. Cue tears.

Thanks to all my lovely magical friends. Yes, you. You are magical.

stripes31, truelavender, Liz Suki Luthor, Bambi4ever, deliciae, Just a lonely werewolf, inarticulate writer, Lilith91, enafred, BeanBeanBean, kitty toyko uzumaki, Azrael Gaunt, chocolaTTelover, ijskonijntje, JustBlurtItOut, Johnny-on-the-spot, Silvereyes11 (and her adorable little daughter!), Asher Knight, Texboy525, iheartyaoibakura, Marauder Black, Darkshadowarchfiend, skitskat24, Lord Rekhyt, TearfullPixie, twilightlover233, anniewildfire, crimson-haze, LadyAlston, Paper Angels, writing bird, aditivats, lilz54, AAJ Edward, AcadianProud, Stelina Miko Kitsune, JeremysPrincess, Jakerin, pikachumomma, GhostGypsy, Kitty-kat-the-ninja, EmoWithASpork, , beautifulyellowflame, erison, Anakaraya Ravenclaw, andsotheworldturns, Lost In Your Thoughts, Scribe Azai, blckjagwgldeyes, rusticheart, Mercedies, DevientGrey, Thallasa, oikakeru, GaYhUsBaNdZzWiFfEyY, xxGrAcExx.

Oh, hey guys, if Draco or Scorpius suddenly become like... moody. Blame Abraxas. Pottermore, Day 1. And guess what? A Slytherin got put into Gryffindor. She was not happy. Hopefully I can trade accounts with someone once they get their login and make it into Slytherin... if not. Byebye Pottermore. ...maybe. Or, I, Abraxas, could just be the most cunning Gryffindor Pottermore has ever seen... or else someone is getting stabbed. -Edit: Nope. Someone's getting stabbed with a wand.

Oh, and Abraxas is on the school computer writing. Let's see if I can finish a chatpter with Syl! ...and of course she isn't online when I am. It's 11 o';clock there Syl! Get your butt online! ...Fine.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

There was almost too much nutella in Draco's house to handle. Harry sighed, flicking his wand carefully to vanish everything. An accio hazelnut had nearly ended with him bowled over by jars and things. Who knew hazelnuts were in so much stuff? But he'd never forgive himself if he left anything behind. He wasn't going to be responsible for making Scorpius sick.

With everything cleared there, he went to Grimmauld Place. "Master Harry?"

"Hi, Kreacher. Could you help me? I need every bit of hazelnut cleared out of here, along with everything on this list." He'd gotten a list of all of Scorpius's allergens from Hermione, deciding that he just needed to get everything out of the way if they were going to stay with him.

Kreacher took the list and nodded. "Kreacher will, Master Harry."

"Good. Thanks. I have to go get Teddy now. He'll be here on his own a while. Make sure he stays out of certain places once you've finished clearing the house of everything on that list, yeah?"

Kreacher knew what those certain places were, so nodded rapidly. "Yes, Master Harry."

"Grand. Thanks." He chucked some powder into the floo and stepped through.

-8-8-

"Come in," the words were muttered softly, Draco still sat next to Scorpius's bed, large pale hands clasped firmly around the small, slowly warming hand of his son.

Harry stepped in, sighing quietly. "He's still out, then?"

Draco gave a small jump at Harry's voice, Scorpius's hand slipping out of his father's grasp to thunk down against the bed. Draco had expected it to be another nurse, coming to glare at them and begrudgingly check Scorpius's vitals. "Harry," he gave a small, petulant sigh of relief, hands lifting to grasp Scorpius's once more.

"Draco." Harry walked up, covered his hand over his son's and sighed. He sank down onto the edge of the bed. "How is he?"

"Same as when you left, just slightly warmer." The blonde shrugged, disheveled hair falling into wary silver eyes as his thumb stroked back and forth against Scorpius's hand. Draco hadn't moved once since Harry had left, refusing to leave should Scorpius wake or a nurse try and curse the defenseless boy.

"Okay." Harry reached out, brushed Draco's bangs to the side. "How are you doing, love?"

Draco leaned into the touch minutely before leaning back against the chair with a huff, "Exhausted. Worried for my child who is currently on his preempting death bed?" He shook his head, leaning forward to rest a hand against Scorpius's forehead and kiss his cheek. "I'm worried," was the almost unheard reply.

"I know you are. Teddy was, too. I told him everything would be alright and now he's with Kreacher. Luna says she'll send some mercurial mufters our way. Apparently, they're excellent for healing. But I somehow doubt they exist." Harry sighed, pushing his glasses up to rub the bridge of his nose. "Hermione says he'll be fine by tonight at the rate he's going."

"Who knows with him?" The words left his lips in a sigh, Draco eye's gazing forlornly at the tuft of blonde hair and closed eyes, hidden behind the lids lay troubled eyes of bright silver with just a tint of precious, precious blue. His child, Scorpius... his son. "Oh Scorpius." His hands shook minutely. "Please, wake up..." Draco's forehead fell against the edge of the bed.

Harry shifted on the bed, let Draco's head rest in his lap. He gently stroked the other man's hair, offering whatever comfort he could. "Talk to me," he murmured. "Tell me what you've been doing with your life. I haven't seen you since the trials, after all. And it'll give us something else to think about."

"Yet we've already had sex and admitted to loving each other like damned Hufflepuffs and my son seems to cling to you like a second appendage." Draco glanced up at the other through the fringe of his hair, not really shocked at the sudden change of position. "Are we doing things backwards here, Potter?"

"Yes, we are." Harry grinned. "My life hasn't been anything even resembling normal, so I suppose I never exactly expected my love life to be anything less. So tell me. Where've your parents gone?"

Draco's expression dropped, his head turning to allow his white-blonde locks to fall back against his face as his shoulders tensed slightly, Draco tightening his hand around Scorpius slightly. "Have to be blunt as ever, eh Potter?" A pregnant pause passed. "My mum is gone, and my father... Let's just say that he is gone as well."

Harry blew out a breath. "Well... I'm sorry. I owed her... a really big debt."

"Oh, she'll come back for it eventually," he muttered into the pristine yet slightly musty bedsheets. "She's alive Potter, don't doubt that..." he turned his head back into his arms. "Just... gone. I haven't exactly heard from her since the wedding, nor for Scorpius's birth, diagnosis, or to even wish me a pleasant birthday."

Harry stared. "That's ridiculous. Why would they...? Where would they have gone? You all seemed so..." Harry gestured uselessly, unsure what to do with that information.

Draco shrugged, giving a small, blatant sigh. "You've seen the general public Harry. At least I am only partially," he stressed the word with a crinkled nose, "hated by the Wizarding populace. My mother and father on the other hand... Some people believed me to have been forced to become a Death Eater." His arms shifted as he readjusted himself, and gave himself a moment to collect his thoughts. "And who better to 'force' me into servitude than dear ol' mummy and daddy?"

"That's no reason for them to abandon you. I didn't keep them out of bloody Azkaban so they could do that. Scorpius doesn't even know them?"

Draco moved a hand out from under his head, tucking his own hair back behind his ear to glance up at Harry from the corner of his eyes. "He met her... once."

"That doesn't sound like it was a very good meeting." Harry reached out, cupped his cheek. "Just tell me the whole story, will you? I'll answer anything you want after. I want to know what happened to that unit I saw in the Great Hall that day."

Draco didn't need to ask what the brunette referred to when he mentioned 'that day.' He gave a sigh, leaning into the touch almost gratefully. The blonde's lips moved before his brain could catch up with him, his hand stroking Scorpius's arm gently in-time with his words. He proceeded to, very quietly, tell Harry about Scorpius's second birthday, which happened to be the seventh anniversary of Voldemort's death - he stuttered over the name, but barrelled on through. Seven, of course, being the 'magical number' that it was made Narcissa Malfoy nee' Black feel the need to reconcile lost ties with her son that she had created after the war, causing the blonde-brown haired women to appear at the doors to Malfoy Manor one foggy, dew-filled morning, shocked to find a lithe little blonde boy open the door with big, silver eyes full of questions at the obvious Malfoy-related person standing at his door. Of course, Narcissa flipped shite, (Draco laughed raspy at his own choice of words, never figuring to associate them with his mother of all people) and stormed past the boy and proceeded to scream her head off, demanding to know when 'her precious son had procreated and why he had not invited her to a baby shower, or let her plan for her first grandchild's birth!' Draco had showed her the door almost immediately after he tried to explain (after rushing down the stairs, scared to the ends of his hair by the screeching that echoed through the Manor) that he had invited his mother to the Manor for Scorpius's birth, and his one year birthday and had received no reply. Narcissa proceeded to scream about an illegitimate child, and something of the befuddled sort about never teaching him what he should of at that blasted school and that his father should of taught him better - all while being escorted off the property by a few tear-jerked House Elves at the sight of their once-beloved mistress in such obvious (maybe not to her) distress. Scorpius had been in tears by the time it was all over.

Harry pulled Draco up, taking his seat and tugging the blonde into his lap. "I'm sorry," he whispered, holding him. "I never thought they'd estrange themselves from you..."

Draco blinked at the sudden shift in sitting, his hand still clasped firmly around Scorpius. "U-Um, yeah." He shook his head. Um, yeah? Was he delusional? "What about your home life, Potter?"

The brunette frowned, nuzzling him gently. "I don't exactly have one. Hermione and Ron got married not long after the war and had Hugo a couple of years later and the rest of the Weasleys are pairing off as well. I haven't had half the lovers the Prophet likes to say, so... I've got the Weasleys, Teddy... and I have my job."

Draco rolled his eyes. "You know what I meant, Potter." He cuffed the other upside the head lightly, albeit the awkwardness of the angle. "Before Hogwarts. What was it like..." He tried to phrase the sentence delicately a few times before giving up with a wayward sigh. "Without parents?"

Harry winced. "I, ah... I stayed with my aunt and uncle, the Dursleys. She was my mum's sister and they didn't exactly get along. They had a son my age, Dudley." Harry smiled slightly, thinking of the curly pig tail the mammoth boy had received the night Harry had first learned of his heritage. "It... could've been worse."

Draco shrugged. "How bad could it have been for the Wizarding World's Golden Boy?" He waved a hand, leaning back against the firm chest behind him. "I mean, it couldn't have been horrible."He turned to face Harry, hand still wrapped tightly around Scorpius's, and not looking like it was leaving anytime soon. "It's not like you were abused or anything." His silver eyes were wide with the firm belief that he was right, and that the Gryffindor Golden Boy lived a splendid life before he came to Hogwarts, before he met Draco at Madam Malkin's.

"I... Well..." Harry averted his gaze. "I s-suppose. Technically. Uncle Vernon never actually... hit me. Necessarily."

Draco froze, eyes trying to lock with those of darting emerald. "Harry." His voice was firm, hand slipping from his son's just slightly. "Tell me the truth. Were you abused?"

Harry sighed, finally meeting Draco's gaze. He had said Draco could ask anything, after all. "I wouldn't call it abuse... The right word would probably be neglected." He gave a short, humorless laugh. "Definitely unwanted."

There was a spike in the air, magic slowly building a tingling buzz under Draco's pale, creamy skin. "What did they do to you?" His teeth began to clench in thought that someone had hurt someone precious to him.

"They didn't... they didn't exactly do anything, I suppose. Dudley did, but he was always a bit of an arse." He touched his glasses, remembering how Hermione had repaired them on that long ago train ride. "Always cracking me in the face and such, him and his friends, until I got too fast for them. But then..." Harry shook his head, leaning back and dropping his gaze again. "You don't want to hear this, Draco."

A hand, warm and sweaty with having been in another's constant grasp for hours grabbed at Harry's chin, roughly jerking his head up. Silver eyes bore into emerald almost violently, burning with a silently reserved fire, warming the silver to molten mercury, flecks of blue and brown flittering around Draco's eyes. "You will tell me right now, Harry Potter." His grip tightened on the stubble-laden chin. "What did they- do- to- you?"

"I... They locked me in a cupboard under the stairs every night. For eleven years that was my bedroom. I had a..." He swallowed. "I had a couple of little toy soldiers I played with, nicked them from Dudley's second bedroom as a birthday present to myself when I was seven. I wasn't allowed upstairs unless they wanted something cleaned. One year on Dudley's birthday, he and some of his friends ate way too much cake and ice cream and then they all... Well, I ended up spending half the night cleaning the ruddy water closet.

"And then there were the night where I'd done something... unusual. I was running from Dudley and his cronies once at school, made to jump behind these trash cans to hide and found myself on the roof. Got a months' detention and no dinner for a good week. I cooked most of the meals, especially on holidays."

There was a faraway look in Harry's eyes, as if he were looking right through Draco. "And then when I finally did find out I was a wizard - because I'd always been told that my parents died in a car crash and I should be lucky they even let me stay with them and wear Dudley's hand-me-downs - they gave me Dudley's second bedroom. And I got meals pushed in under this cat flap they made in the door... And there were bars on the windows..."

Draco smashed their lips together harshly, hands coming up to grasp at Harry's cheeks as he molded their lips together - kissing at his lips, cheeks, eyelids, nose, brow - anywhere he could reach, his lips pressed passionate, heartbroken kisses against supple sun-kissed skin. "You won't have that again. I swear on my father's grave I won't let anything like that happen again. Those stupid 'Dursleys' can rot in Hell for all I care."

"They thought I was a freak," he mumbled. "Aunt Petunia was always calling mum and dad freaks. I was a freak. Anything not normal was... I used to dream about things, fantastic things. Flying motorbikes and such, but if I ever mentioned them..." Harry shook his head. "I don't even know where they are now. They were taken away a bit before my seventeenth birthday for their own protection and then... I just never saw them again."

"You are not a freak Harry." Draco's thumbs caressed his cheeks softly, their breath mingling as their lips brushed when they spoke. "You are amazing, smart, fit, generous, beautifully handsome, and..." He gave a small shake of his head, a warm, (almost) loving smile pushing at the corners of his lips." ...the most brave, incompetent, unselfishly stupid person I know." Draco's eyes were warm, unguarded, and swimming with emotions. "And I love you for you, Harry James Potter." His eyes, already almost closed with the whispers of his words, drifted shut, his head titling just slightly to press their lips together. "And you could never be a freak to me."

"Are you sure about that? The whole surviving the killing curse twice thing doesn't push that button?" Harry was only half-kidding, a hand sliding into Draco's hair as he waited for the answer. "Quite a few people would be a little concerned."

"Dark Mark. Dark Lord." He pressed his lips gently, molding his own against Harry's, eyes hazed over slightly, gazing up at emerald green through long lashes. "Remember?"

"That doesn't mean there's anything wrong with you." Harry took his hand gently down Draco's back. "I love you, Draco."

His arms traveled slowly up Harry's body, wrapping snugly around the Gryffindor's neck as he turned his body to be able to relax against a Quidditch toned chest and stomach. "Mm, I think there might be a few screws lose." A kiss was pressed to the corner of Harry's mouth. "But you still love me anyways? That might be a bad move there, Potter. I could be crazy." He nuzzled Harry's neck, letting out a tense sigh.

"You never know. I could be obsessively needy and have all sorts of other troublesome things wrong with me, but you still seem to love me." Harry rested his chin atop Draco's head, tone becoming serious. "Listen to me, Draco. I've talked to mind-Healers about all this; I had to after a case about this neglected boy... He was a Squib and his pure-blood parents couldn't stand it. They kept it hidden for almost eleven years, but when it came time for the Hogwarts letter that never came...

"We found an ear," he whispered. "This pool of blood, splashed against this wall, and there was this ear on the floor. Because these parents were just that ashamed to have, to them, an abnormal child. And I couldn't tolerate it. They sent me to the Healers, wouldn't let me back on the job until I was fully cleared. So it doesn't bother me as much as it used to. I'm not a ten year old, living in a cupboard. Or a seventeen year old running for my life. Just like you're not a terrified seventeen year old with a madman in your house, or a sixteen year old with an impossible job."

"No." The word shocked them both, Draco moving away with a flourish, standing and pacing around the room instantly, hands locked behind his back as his shoes clacked rhythmically on the floor. "You listen to me, Harry James Potter." He stopped in front of the chair after a few moments, hands resting on the back as he leaned forward with a jerk, eyes narrowed, lips pursed. "It doesn't matter to me if you are short - which you are - bald, tall, obtusely overweight, powerfully magical, no magic at all, poor, or stupid! Heaven forbid that I am lucky enough that you are none of those." His eyes bore into those of emerald green with a roll, looking almost smooth as jade in the flickering hospital lights. "I love you for you. And I will say it how ever many times I need to."

He jerked the back of the chair slightly, allowing it to creak against the floor as it moved backwards. "I don't care if you were abused, or treated as a fucking prince, because that doesn't matter. What matters now is now. And that was something that I had to learn the fucking hard way. All that matters now is that I'm trying to stay warm in this damn hospital with it's stupid abusive nurses and horrible food. I just want to be back in your arms because you make a more comfortable support than those damn chairs you're sitting in, and my son, Harry. I'm here for Scorpius and so are you. We are here because there is a little five-year old not even ten feet away that needs our help because he is dying, and placing two of the most magically powerful Wizards of our age, coupled with the brightest Witch as well means that we have to find something. And that right there proves to me that you aren't crazy. You care about me, and you care about my son, not even bothering to judge us when you met us in a frickin' Muggle park. That right there is proof that you are Harry James Potter, stupid Ex-Gryffindor, Quidditch player and Auror extraordinaire. That is proof as to why I can say I love you and not want to dig my stone cold heart out with a Kris, Potter!" Draco's chest was heaving by the time he had finished, his mercury colored eyes wild with vivid emotions. Love, disgust for the Dursley's, sarcasm and the usual Malfoy snark swimming around, coupled with the care and devotion of being a father to a sick and dying five year old, and someone who experienced more beyond their age before they even had the trace off of them. He took a breath to calm himself.

Harry took advantage of that pause, dragging Draco against him, fingers digging into his forearms as he devoured the blonde's lips. It was a desperate kiss, needy and bruising. And possessive.

Draco melted into the kiss, pressing back fervently, legs coming to awkwardly straddle Harry's own as he kissed back, molding their lips together and giving a small moan, heart pounding painfully in his chest.

The brunette's hands slid down, hooked behind Draco's knees and had him crashing down onto his lap. Harry skimmed a hand back up, keeping him steady, and continued the kiss, tongue diving into Draco's mouth.

Draco gave a small 'oof' as he landed against a firm, toned body, his own body instantly reacting to the warm, heated lips pressed against his own and the thundering heartbeat against his chest. His tongue came out to press against Harry's, lips molding together as his hands dived into unruly locks, breathing shallow and short as his own heart pounded in his chest.

Harry only broke the kiss when he remembered how important breathing was, but didn't go far, breath panting against Draco's lips. "I love you," he whispered. "Now is what matters. Now I love you and that boy. And I'm going to do all that I can to protect you both."

Draco's eyes were hooded, chest heaving as his hands drifted through Harry's hair and over his face, coming to trace small patterns against his neck. "You better, Pot- Harry." He licked his kiss swollen lips, resting his forehead against the others. "I don't think I can handle a heartbroken five-year old." Draco chuckled lowly.

"I don't think I can handle a heartbroken me." Harry sighed quietly, pressed a light kiss to his nose.

Draco drifted kisses over Harry's nose and lips. "I love you, scarhead. Even you know that."

"Yes, I know it." His lips twitched with amusement. "Slytherin prat."

Draco pressed their lips together soundly. "Mm, you love it. You've always loved snakes, don't deny it." His head ducked down to rest against Harry's shoulder, his lithe body curling up against the shorter male's, a yawn tugging at his lips.

Harry looked down, gently taking his fingers through his lover's hair and hissed something in Parseltongue.

Draco let out an involuntary moan, pressing himself flush against Harry.

As tempted as he was to hiss something else at a reaction like that, Harry just chuckled softly. "Like that, do you?"

"You are torturous, Harry." Draco murmured, face flushed at his own reaction as he spoke quietly against Harry's neck, eyes drifting closed for a moment as he listened to the sure beating of the heart monitor working in time with Scorpius's own heartbeat, that noise dragging him back to reality. "I admit to nothing."

Harry hissed and 'I love you,' interested in whatever reaction that would bring, and slid his hand down to toy with the top of Draco's slacks.

A shudder ripped through Draco's body, burning down to the tips of Draco's fingers as the hiss practically slithered through his body. About to make up a retort, Draco froze at the feeling of fingers against his belt. "Not here Harry," he sighed, chest caving in. "Not when we have Scorpius to focus on." Draco leaned forward, pressing their lips together chastely, enjoying the warmth Harry always seemed to radiate. "He could wake up at anytime."

"I know." He lowered his brow to Draco's and hissed it again. "Try and remember what that one sounds like," he requested.

Draco gave a roll of his mercury hued eyes, resting his head back against Harry's neck, lithe, muscled arms wrapped securely around his neck. "Demanding much, are we?"

"It means 'I love you,'" he explained. "So when I'm inside you next, hissing it in your ear and driving you mad, I want you to understand."

The blonde raised a platinum-blonde brow, groaning silently. "And who says I will let you 'back inside,' Harry?"

"The fact that you're hard as hell against me right now, actually." Harry grinned a little wickedly. "And that I know all I have to do to get you going is a little nip or two."

"You're a horrible lover, do you know this?" The blonde gave a sigh, turning around, making sure to rub his body against Harry's as much as possible during the maneuver, and rest back against Harry's chest, arms around his own stomach as he extended his legs out. His eyes slipped closed with a relieving inhale-exhale.

"Tease," Harry murmured, nuzzling him gently. "Now go ahead and sleep. I'll wake you if there's a change."

Draco shook his head with a petulant huff. "I'm not twelve Harry, I don't need a nap when my son is lying in something akin to comatose state in a hospital."

"You're exhausted," Harry pointed out, gently stroking his chest. "And you can trust me. I'll wake you, love."

Draco leaned back, nuzzling against Harry's shoulder, eyes drifting closed of their own accord. "It's more of a paternal thing than a 'I'm just a prat who refuses to sleep because-"

"Draco," Harry interrupted, amused. "I know. Just sleep a little while. You don't want to be tired when this rambunctious five year old wakes up."

The 'if' went unsaid in Draco's mind as he gave a huff, eyes closing fully as his body sagged against the Quidditch toned chest behind him, weariness and exhaustion slowly forming on his pointed face. today had taken its toll. "Fine... you stupid Gryffindor."

"Goodnight, Slytherin git." Harry rested his cheek atop Draco's hair, watching Scorpius out of the corner of his eye. "Love you."

Draco was out with a mere murmur of the same words, hair falling against his cheeks as he curled upon albeit the awkwardness of the position, being taller than the man whose lap he rested in, head tucked firmly between the brunette's head and shoulder. Draco rested deeply for the first time since Scorpius was placed in the bowels of that stupid, infected hospital, the warmth from Harry's skin drifting past his thin layer of clothes and his reassuring presence allowing the blonde to sleep peacefully. Draco could never have been more thankful for those next few hours of rest.

-8-8-

And done. And Abraxas still hates Pottermore.

That probably won't change till she gets put in Slytherin. She is just going to go wallow in self pity now...

Review to make her happy?

Syl probably wants to shoot her with her depressing mood..

-Syl and a very depressed Abraxas