"Where is he?"
Draco threw back the last of his firewhiskey. "Upstairs with Tom and Regulus, I think." He filled his glass again. "I took his wand and all his knives, so he can't go running off. Easily, anyway."
"What about you?"
"I'm…fuck, Charlie." His head fell into his hands. "I don't think it's really hit me yet, you know? But it already hurts, just to see him." It did. Like a knife to the gut. No, Draco knew what that felt like.
This was worse.
Charlie pried his fingers off his glass, which he was gripping so hard it was in serious danger of shattering. "Talk to me, Draco," he said softly, trying to keep Draco from getting lost in his head.
"Did he ever tell you about Reggie's birth?"
"No," Charlie admitted, "just that he was a ritual child with three fathers."
"Harry was kidnapped after the War, you know. Held captive, tortured, partially starved, all that." Charlie nodded. Harry had said part of it at the Burrow once. "They wanted his blood for an Olde Magick ritual, to create an heir from two magically powerful people. The last of the Death Eaters were making an heir to Lord Voldemort, using the blood of the only two people to ever beat him: Harry Potter, and Regulus Black."
"Merlin," Charlie breathed.
Draco pushed on, ignoring the voice in his head that said Harry wouldn't like having his secrets spilled out like this. "Harry died in the Battle, I'm not sure if you know. Voldemort killed him. It…messed him up for a while. He didn't feel things, he wasn't really living, just going through the motions. All they did to him, and he never once screamed. He's proud of that.
"They made Theo Nott guard him. Theo, he never wanted to be a Death Eater. He was Dark, yes, but he was never a bigot. Harry said Theo was the first person he spoke to since Voldemort died. Theo was the first one he ever fell in love with. A sudden, desperate kind of love, but for him it was a reason to fight, to try to survive when he was counting down the days until he died.
"But Theo's father killed him on the last night, right in front of Harry. I guess he killed him slowly and painfully, so it would hurt them both." He took another drink of firewhiskey. "So he accepted that he was going to die. He had to prepare himself to die, again, for –what?- the third time in two months. He was going to just over and let them kill him, because without Theo, he didn't know how to live anymore.
"He says that's when he saw Reggie's eyes for the first time."
"He has Harry's eyes," Charlie said slowly.
Draco nodded. "Hard to ignore that he's Harry's son. He lived to protect his son. He still does. Such a Gryffindor, he never could just live for himself." Draco tried to laugh, but it sounded too much like a sob to fool anyone.
That was when the wall broke. Tears rolled down Draco's face, hard and fast. "Oh, gods, Charlie, what are we going to do?" he cried. "I love Reggie. He calls me Father, he's my son and I need him and he's not even mine!" Charlie wrapped strong arms around him and he buried his face in the redhead's shoulder. "How are we going to make it through this?"
"Shh, hush Draco," Charlie whispered, smoothing a hand down Draco's back. "We're all going to make it through, alright? You're strong, we're all strong." He pulled back, looking at Draco intently. "It will work out," he said with conviction. "It will, because we will make it."
"Draco?" George stood in the doorway, pale underneath his freckles. "Kingsley and Robards are here. Where's Harry?"
"In the portrait gallery," Draco said shakily, wiping away his tears. Charlie gave him one last squeeze of the shoulder as he stood. "It's a family room. I'll get him."
Harry gave his statement in a blank, hollow voice that scared Draco. Then he sat in his chair and stared, unblinkingly, at nothing. He seemed to be carved from stone. Draco could already see how…empty Harry must have been after his death.
How strong do you have to be, to keep living when all you want to do is stop?
He shook away the thought, focusing on the conversation instead.
"The safety of your wards has been compromised," Head Auror Robards was saying. "We don't know who organised this attack, or what they want, so we have no way of knowing if they'll come back. Obviously, you can't stay here until we do know."
Robards paused, clearly expecting Harry to say something in response, but Harry just continued to stare.
"W-Well," Robards continued, shaken, "we want to move you out to a Ministry safe house in the meantime-"
"We're going to the Manor," Draco told him. Robards and Shacklebolt turned surprised faces his way, but Draco just stared back. "We're not going to some tiny cottage in the middle of nowhere that no one can get to except every damn Ministry of Magic employee. We're not going to be burdened by a twenty-four hour Auror guard either," he pointed at Robards. "We're going to Malfoy Manor to be with my mother, and only a very select few Aurors will have permission to get through the wards."
"Mr Malfoy," Shacklebolt began, but Draco whirled on him next.
"Frankly, Minister, I don't give a fuck about my Wizengamot restrictions, and I think you'll accept that these might be exceptional circumstances. Harry and I will take Teddy and Charlie Weasley, and we will go to the Manor to be with my mother, because we are a family and we need to be together as a family."
Shacklebolt and Robards were shocked into silence when he finished, breathing hard. After a long, tense moment, Shacklebolt nodded.
"Very well, Mr Malfoy," he said quietly. "I understand."
"Minister!" Robards protested, but Shacklebolt held up a hand to stop him.
"No, he's right, Gawain." He turned back to Draco. "I'll deal with the Wizengamot. I doubt anyone will protest, if only because of Harry."
Draco slumped slightly in relief. "Thank you."
"Right," Robards scowled. "John Dawlish will head the investigation, so he'll come to the Manor," he looked like the word tasted foul in his mouth, "whenever we have an update."
"No," Harry spoke up, icy determination in his voice. When he raised his eyes to meet Robards', they burned, like dragonfire. "No."
"I'm…sorry?" Robards frowned, now completely lost.
"I said no," Harry stood, seeming to tower over all of them. "Williamson will take the case. I don't trust Dawlish as far as I can throw him, I never have. You'll put Williamson on the case for official purposes, but I will lead it."
"Harry, I can't just do that!" Robards threw his hands into the air. "You are not an Auror, you're a bloody nobleman! You have no experience leading an official investigation, much less the authority to do so!"
"I think you'll find, when it comes to my son, I have the authority to do pretty much whatever the fuck I want," Harry replied coldly. "I have more power than you will ever know, Gawain, and that's without my name. I will lead the investigation, Williamson will be the Senior Investigation Auror, and you will get over it. Understood?"
Harry's power was spreading out, filling the room with cold and crackling electricity in a way Draco hadn't felt since his first few weeks in Grimmauld Place. It pushed down on Robards, trying to force him to his knees in front of Harry, press him into submission.
Robards bowed his head. "Yes, Lord Potter," he gritted out.
Harry slumped against him as soon as Shacklebolt and Robards left. Draco held him tightly, speaking over his shoulder to the pair of Weasleys.
"George, can you deal with the publicity?" George nodded. "Good. Try to keep it out of the papers as long as possible. We're known for being ridiculously secretive, so that might work to our favour. No one will expect to see us all in public anyway."
"What about your sudden disappearance from Nev's wedding?" George pointed out.
Draco sighed. "Fuck, I don't care. We just had to get home and have a shag? I don't think anyone missed us dancing like that. People will probably think we just got together or something. Sexual tension, everyone will believe it." George nodded. "I'll get my mother to let you through the wards, drop by the Manor when you need to, alright?"
"Got it."
Draco turned to Charlie, smoothing his hand down Harry's spine. He'd gone back to his blank staring. "I didn't mean to drag you in like that, I'm sorry. If you need to go back to Romania or something-"
"Draco," Charlie cut him off. "Don't be stupid. Of course I'm going with you. All you did was save me the trouble of inviting myself."
"Ok then," Draco smiled weakly. "If you could go get Teddy, we'll leave now."
Narcissa listened to their story without a word. A single tear rolled down her face, but she wiped it away impatiently as she took hold of a shell-shocked Teddy and took him to his room. Charlie followed them, leaving Draco to guide Harry to their room.
He managed to get Harry out of his shirt and trousers and into bed, but nothing he did got any reaction. He was lost in his head again. Draco wondered if it was a way to cope. Harry had always been so alive, so passionate, in school. He was always overflowing with emotion.
What do you do when all of that turns into pain? Maybe shutting down was the only way he kept his mind in one piece.
Draco was so afraid.
He curled around Harry under the covers, his head on Harry's chest. He knew neither of them would sleep that night. How could they? All they could do was stare into the dark and try not to think.
"Draco?" Harry whispered, somewhere in the darkest point of the night.
"We'll find him, Harry," Draco replied softly. "I promise." He felt Harry raise his hand and slowly, tentatively, weave his fingers through his hair. "I promise," he repeated, rubbing a thumb gently across Harry's cheek.
"I love you," he said, and Draco tried not to think about how much it sounded like a last chance.