Don't judge on how long this took to get out. One word. Exams. Oi. Anyway I was sick yesterday so now that I've recovered som what, I'm using this sick time to finally get this done. A good amount of fluff and angst here. Happy reading!

Chapter 7 **************

Downstairs, Harry and Draco were on the couch. Harry was sitting cross-legged sideways facing Draco who was doing the same. They had been that way for a while, Harry had been quietly talked but Draco had not really heard a word mostly because he was incredibly focused on the fact that THEY WERE HOLDING HANDS.

Not really. Sort-of. Yes. No. Kind-of. Harry had taken his hand at some point and held it in the middle of them on the couch and was rubbing his thumb over Draco's knuckles. All Draco could do was nod and act like he was listening.

He trusted Harry Potter. He liked harry potter. Harry potter had taken him in. He had taken care of him. He had cared for him, taught him how to laugh again. He defended Draco. He had taught him how to be strong, when the only thing he ever knew was how to be weak. Harry Potter had hugged him. He was proud of him. And now Draco's life revolved around Harry Potter, of all people. Somehow, his life always came back to Harry Potter.

He didn't want to think of the implications of that meant when the man was rubbing his hand. He had really nice hands. Draco moved his tongue around his mouth. 'Harry. Harry. Harry.' Draco repeated that in his head and hoped that this would work. He wanted to get better. He wanted to speak. He wanted to remember and forget.

He wasn't going to let the bastard that did this to him get the last word. He wasn't going to let him win.

"Hare-rey"

Draco smiled at the man's expression. "Har-ry" Draco liked the way the syllables sounded on his tongue. "Harry." Harry was smiling. His smile lite up his whole face and his eyes seemed to glow. Draco looked him in the eyes and pointed to him. "Harry." Then he pointed to himself. "Dray-ko. Dra-co." He smiled. "Draco."

Harry stared into his eyes and squeezed his hand. "Draco." He said softly.

They went to upstairs. Draco sat in his bed and chanted words in his head, and out loud until he fell asleep, Harry's name on his lips.

…..

The next morning, Draco waited until Damian had tripped downstairs and Hermione had let herself in before he spoke. "Harry" the table froze and Harry grinned at the rest of the table. "It's his new favorite word." He explained. "His first word was 'go'. It was an order last night to the pack and clan to clear out." Hermione smiled at him. "That's fantastic! Only, I'm not surprised that the first word you speak in six years is an order." Draco rolled his eyes, and had another piece of sausage. Harry smiled. "He can say, Harry, Draco, and Go"

Draco grinned. "Lex-ie. Nick-ie. Dame-ie-an." He paused biting his lip. "Mione. Her-mine-ie. Hermione. Lexie, Niki, Damian, Hermione, Draco, Harry, Go." He gave a smug smile to Harry and held up seven fingers. Seven words.

Harry laughed. "You've been practicing." Draco nodded satisfied, and strangely tired. It took more effort than he'd realized. "I think we'll start with the alphabet and then numbers and common words. This is already great progress."

Their eyes met again and Draco felt the urge to look away from the warmth he saw. He blushed and bit his lip, hesitantly meeting his eyes again. He suddenly wanted to hold Harry's hand again, yet crawl into a hole and never be seen again. Grateful that he couldn't speak, for he might've said something embarrassing, he finished his breakfast having a staring contest with Dragon.

3 weeks later on a Saturday, he had progressed to small sentences and bigger words. His progress had even encouraged Niki somewhat and she could now say everyone's name properly and make small announcements. Saturday and Sunday was Hermione's days off, Draco learned. On Saturdays, Damian Lexie and Niki spent the day with the Weasley family. Draco didn't know if Hermione or Harry had told anyone else about him. He had a feeling that his existence was only known to Kingsley, the Auror's that found him, Harry, the kids, Hermione and the Pack and Clan. It seems that was already too many.

But on Saturdays Harry had himself and Draco spend the day in the expanded basement doing the weirdest thing: exercise.

Harry made Draco run laps around an open field but they would do them together. Harry said that he had no chance to stay in shape otherwise. Draco just shrugged. He liked to run. One of the perks of being a werewolf was the energy. He could run for hours. He ran laps around Harry, much to the man's chagrin.

Another reason Draco liked running so much was that Harry would take his shirt off to run. Not that Draco would ever admit that of course. Draco never took his shirt off though. He thought his scars unnerved the man. The one time he did, Harry glanced at his chest, stared for a moment and then refused to look at him.

Sundays were interesting though. Sunday, they would get mail from the children at Hogwarts about their week. They would also get mail from each teacher for each child, giving Harry updates in their attitude and lessons. They would spend hours reading, laughing and replying. And Sunday, was movie marathon day. Harry would ask for Hermione's help and they would select movies they think the kids would like and every week a new person got to pick. It was interesting, watching muggle movies and Harry thought it was a good insight to muggle culture.

It was only after a lengthy explanation, did Draco understand Damian and Niki's signs. The others were self-explanatory.

It was Saturday though, and they were eating breakfast when a tapping was heard at the window. Harry frowned as he got up to let the owl in. His eyes widened at the letter and he gave a terse "no reply" to the owl which flew back out without its treat. Dog was eyeing it and the owl wasn't taking any chances.

Harry had been afraid of this. He had to go to Hogwarts… but just what in the hell was he going to do with Draco?

This was bad.

Okay so either have a good part of the Weasley family find out that Draco Malfoy was alive and in his care, risking a gigantic fuss and exposing him and the kids to freak outs that wouldn't be good for their health—or he could take Draco with him to Hogwarts under a glamor, possibly risking his mental health to too much of Draco's scarred past at once. It was a leap of faith either way. What would he risk?

This was one of those moments when Harry realizes that he's 23 years old and he is responsible for 10 lives including his own. It was like when he was seventeen and the whole world depended on him, only now it was 10 people he knew and cared about. He wondered often why he didn't wait until he was older to take care of them. Many (and by 'many' he meant his family, the Daily Prophet, most of the Wizarding word and a little old lady in Poland) thought that he was still a kid himself and how could he possibly handle so many children, not to mention, mentally scarred ones. He wondered but he didn't regret. He got through it because he wasn't old or experienced, he was a kid that had gone through so much and understood these kids and why they did what they did. No, he never would regret his family.

And he had told Draco before. His kids came first. He was going to let them have a perfectly normal Saturday.

Harry looked across the table at the blonde werewolf. Draco smiled brightly at him. Harry watched him as he ate. The blonde had adjusted well to living indoors again. He had even started to regain his old pureblood habits. His chin was held high now only he didn't make a habit out of looking directly at someone. He had marvelous table manners too. Draco had come so far in so little time. But Harry knew that he'd been avoiding the inevitable. The past will come to haunt Draco and Harry too.

Hopefully Hogwarts will give Harry answers about Draco's past without sending the blonde mute for the next year.

Draco was a nervous wreck. This was the first time he would be out of this house in two months. Harry didn't say where they were going but it must've been important. He vaguely wondered if he was crushing Harry's hand from squeezing it too hard. The shoes annoyed him. He hasn't worn shoes in years! He petted his hair in a nervous gesture and his lip might start bleeding if he bit it any harder. Harry had spelled his hair light brown and his eyes blue. His nose was smaller and his face rounder. His ears were also not pointy anymore and his scars were hidden.

Harry took the floo power with the hand that wasn't being crushed and dragged Draco into the fireplace with him. And Draco froze when Harry called "Hogwarts, Headmistress office."

Oh nonononono—this was not happening. Draco felt the lurch and in his panic and Harry's ungraceful nature they both tumbled out of the fireplace in a heap covered in soot. Draco stared at a tapping foot and looked up to the stern but fond gaze of Headmistress McGonagall instantly feeling eleven years old again.

Memories swam at the edges of his vision and he was on the edge of a full fledge breakdown when Harry hauled him to his feet and rubbed his hand. "You wanted me to come for a meeting about Sebastian, professor?"

Blinking and trying hard to breath steadily and not quite succeeding, Draco's eyes strayed to a caramel haired boy slumped in a chair; he had a ugly scowl and a Slytherin tie and Draco was painfully reminded that he probably looked a lot like that snooty kid when he was younger.

Only the boy had a black eye-patch over his left eye and a scar stretched from the middle of his forehead down under the eye patch to under his left ear. His green eye burned passionate with anger, guilt, indignation and deep sadness.

Only then, when the boy glanced over to them, his scowl got deeper and his eye flared with anger and the smallest bit of fear. Draco checked to see if any of the glamour's had failed but surprisingly it hadn't. What had caused that anger? That fear? Draco could smell it on him and he got anxious again. Was there danger? He couldn't sense it. The boy was afraid of him, when Draco had never met him before in his life… which means the child assumes he is dangerous. But why?

McGonagall nodded. "I have already given you the details of his transgressions this past week. I was hoping you would speak to him" The boy scowled darkly and Draco looked anywhere but him. The headmaster's office. He was at Hogwarts. The absurdity of it all. He hasn't been here in…seven years. All that time. He wondered where that old coot Dumbledore was. Probably on some sort of business.

What would happen if he just suddenly took off his glamor? He didn't need a wand just a force of will. What would McGonagall say? Or Dumbledore?

"Mister Malfoy" Draco jumped about a foot in the air. Did his glamor come off? He still felt the tingle of the magic. She smiled softly. Only three people in this school can see through glamour's mister Malfoy. I won't ask questions. I just wanted to say welcome back to the land of the living. I'll be in my office if you need me." She nodded and smiled leaving Draco frozen like he'd been hit by a stupefy.

Harry grinned. "Somethings never change. Now," he rounded on the boy in the chair who seemed to give the bowl of lemon drops on the desk more attention than they needed. "What has been going on with you Sebastian?" The boy's eye focused again on Draco and then flashed to Harry and he said nothing. Harry smiled grimly. "I'll be back in half an hour and you better be ready to explain yourself." He took Draco's hand and led him out of the office.

Draco's panic grew as they journeyed down the staircase. All the horrors. The panic, the pressure, the nightmares that followed him. Realizing that even here he wasn't safe… he had a bitter taste in his mouth and gripped Harry's hand for it was his life line to reality. It was so long ago. Things were different. Things were better.

He never knew what happened after he left. He was cut off. He knew the war was over obviously. But he doesn't know how, or when, or who died or who lived. Who went to his funeral, who cared, who cried…

Harry suddenly stopped and Draco realized that they had been walking through the halls the whole time. Draco gasped as he took in the familiar surroundings. They were in the dungeons. And suddenly Draco knew why Harry had taken him here and tears pricked his eyes. His heart beat faster and his feet carried him like they had carried him so many times before. And he was a kid again, dropping his glamor, running through the halls he had lived in for so long, to a familiar door, wrenching it open, Harry close on his heels…

Time was frozen in that moment. Severus Snape was standing, his ink bottle had tipped and was leaking over some second year's paper but he couldn't be arsed to care. His eyes where wide and his lips parted and he had forgotten how to breathe. It was not possible, after seven years; but Snape saw Harry potter behind his long lost godson and he realized that anything truly was possible when it came to the Boy-Who-Lived.

Draco was crying. "Un-cle Sev" They met in a bone crushing hug and Draco was sobbing into his shoulder. Severus held him close, not daring to let go. He opened his eyes and looked at Harry potter, son of his rival, son of his love, defeater of the dark lord and supervisor of a mental facility. Harry Potter, the one that brought his godson home. "Thank you." He whispered to the bright green eyes. The man nodded and closed the door behind him. Draco, would be alright.

Yay! Finally done! For now…. Either way review and you get… damn I'm running out of bribing tools. Harry shirtless again? Drarry cookies? REVIEW! Come on make a sick girl's day will ya?