Ron was on his feet, holding onto the edge of the sofa and laughing uproariously as Harry and Draco entered the house. Bean was tumbling across the floor in somersaults and dancing in circles.

"Dada!" Ron squealed as they entered. He grinned at them, displaying two tiny bottom teeth.

"Uh oh," Harry scooped him up and carried him on his hip to the fireplace mantle. He pointed at an animated photo of the entire Weasley clan, "I'm not Dada. That's Dada. And that's Mama."

"And that's you, if that isn't the biggest mind-fuck ever," Draco stepped up close and pointed at Ron's teenage face.

"Language," Harry said.

"Dada," Ron waved his hands at the photo.

"That's right," Harry smiled. "I'm Uncle Harry. And this is Uncle Malfoy."

"Really?" Draco cocked his head. "Uncle Draco. Surely you can pronounce that, Potter. It's the same number of syllables."

"Fine, Uncle Draco," Harry sighed. The name sounded strange on his tongue.

"In fact, I would say it's probably easier to pronounce," Draco gently removed Ron from Harry's arms. "It rolls off the tongue nicely. Draco."

Ron giggled.

"Yes, that's how you responded the first time you heard it, too," Draco said flatly. "Come on, lets get some food in you, you chubby little wanker."

Draco took Ron into the kitchen and seated him in the highchair. Ron shouted and banged his hands on the tray while Draco unpacked the bags and spoke to his magic eight ball.

"Yes, I know you're hungry. Can he have these puffs? Here, have some puffs. Can he have these strained peas? Is there anything here he can't have?"

Harry sank into the sofa cushions and closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of Draco puttering around the kitchen with a soon-to-be toddler. It was comforting and homey and it reminded him of the family he never had. He imagined his own father cradling him and cooing at him, adoring him like Draco tried to pretend he didn't adore baby Ron. Adoring him like the Dursleys never did. It was a sense of home he hoped to provide for his own children one day, if he ever got the chance.

"Potter! Put the kettle on, you lazy sod."

Harry smiled to himself. Why was it amusing now when it would have set his teeth on edge during school? Age and perspective, perhaps. Or maybe familiarity.

He put the kettle on and made cheese sandwiches, which Draco enthusiastically criticized as he gobbled his up. When they were done Bean cleared the table and took Ron back into the living room. Harry excused himself and went up to the attic to look for toys. He found a box of dancing building blocks and a baby buggy that looked like it would still roll. He bought both downstairs.

"Let's take him for a walk," Harry said.

"Outside?" Draco looked up in surprise.

"No, let's push the buggy around the kitchen," Harry rolled his eyes.

"Outside," Draco frowned. "What will the neighbors think?"

"What neighbors?"

"Granted," Draco shrugged.

They loaded Ron into the buggy and buckled the seatbelt. They handed him a ring of wooden keys that he could rattle and clack and maneuvered the buggy outside. It was only at the end of the yard where the Weasley property joined up with the dirt service road that Harry realized his great idea may not be so good.

"Those wheels don't do so well on gravel, do they?" Draco said over the clatter of the buggy. He withdrew his wand and flicked it once, levitating the buggy just a hair, just enough to clear the ground. Suddenly pushing got a lot easier.

Ron squealed in delight and shook his keys. Draco smiled and didn't try to conceal it when Harry looked at him. He pointed at the fluffy clouds and tried to make Ron look, but he was too busy shaking his toy.

"Weasley, tell Uncle Potter to slow down and enjoy the sunshine," Draco said.

"Ron, remind Uncle Draco that he made a point about using last names earlier," Harry said.

Draco groaned. "Fine, Ron and Uncle Harry."

"It's even the same number of syllables," Harry smirked.

"You're brilliant, Pot- Harry," Draco said.

"See? Not so hard," Harry bumped Draco with his shoulder. Draco looked at him with surprise, then a moment later bumped him back.

They walked for fifteen minutes and then turned back around. Ron's enthusiastic waving slowed, and then stopped, and the wooden keys clattered to the ground as he fell asleep. Draco scooped them up and tucked them beneath one of his pudgy arms.

"I would have never thought you of all people would take to parenting," Harry said.

"Why not? I want a huge family," Draco scooped up a handful of rocks and tossed them one by one into the long grassy field that lined the road. "Give them a better life than I had."

"A better life? You had everything you could ask for," Harry marveled. "I don't think any kid ever had as many luxuries as you."

"Luxuries are no substitute for security," Draco tossed another rock. "I don't mean financial security. I mean real security. The kind that makes a kid sure that his parents will love him no matter what."

"Yeah," Harry nodded sadly.

"When I have children , they'll know their father loves them," Draco said, his voice sharp. "They'll know no one will ever try to sell their fates in exchange for power."

Harry nodded but didn't think it was his place to comment.

"My children," Draco jabbed his finger into the air, "will never have to trade their souls to save their father from Azkaban because their father will never do anything that will get him sent to Azkaban."

Harry instantly regretted threatening his rival with the Ministry's Pensieve. Clearly Azkaban represented a greater fear for him.

"They'll never be asked to protect their family name, they'll never be asked to harm, or kill." His voice was getting louder and angrier. "They'll never have to know what darkness is. And they'll have each other so they'll never be alone." He was shaking now. "They'll never have to spend days and nights with no one but the house elves to comfort them while monsters roam the halls outside of their bedroom doors. Because their father," he shouted, "will never let the monsters in."

He stopped walking, his hands clenched at his sides in trembling rage. He glared at Harry as a tear traced its way down his cheek.

"My kids," he said through his teeth, "will never need to be saved."

"My kids will never be expected to save anyone," Harry said softly, wishing he could take Draco's hand and show him that he understood. "They'll never have a scar to remind them of their parents' death. They'll never get shipped off to distant relatives who will abuse and starve and enslave them. They'll have their own bedrooms, their own safe, special place that's theirs. No one will hide the truth about who they are. And they'll never be told they have to destroy someone in order to survive."

To Harry's surprise he found himself welling up, too. He dashed the back of his wrist against his eyes and lifted his chin defiantly. He and Draco stared at each other for a moment in shared sorrow and then continued on their way.

"Sounds like we both got the short end of the stick, Potter," Draco said sadly. Then a moment later, almost a whisper, "Harry."

The afternoon was a blur. Diaper changes, feeding, playing, cleaning, constantly attending the busy tot who was rapidly developing towards his first step. They consulted the magic eight ball whenever they didn't know what to do, and around seven Harry popped a frozen lasagna into the oven. Unfortunately it required two hours to cook, which he didn't realize until he started, so by the time it was ready Draco was good and grumpy.

"If you don't stop glaring at me everytime I walk by I will chuck the whole thing into the bin," Harry said.

In spite of the magic eight ball's recommended bedtime, Ron struggled and fussed and threw a rollicking tantrum when they tried to put him down. He kicked and cried, and no amount of rocking would convince him to stop. Draco did an admirable job keeping his frustration in check, but he and Harry had to hand Ron off to each other several times when their tempers reached the boiling point. Bean tried to do somersaults to help but in the end it was simply a waiting game. Ten minutes before the lasagna was done he finally fell asleep in his crib.

Harry and Draco tiptoed to the kitchen and ate in silence, reluctant to wake him after such a hard-won battle. Bean cleared away the dishes and they crept back to the living room to rest for a moment.

"Tomorrow he needs his own room," Draco said. "There's nowhere else in this bloody house to sit."

"I'm thinking about going to bed," Harry yawned.

"Not a bad idea," Draco rubbed his eyes.

They dragged themselves up the stairs. Draco paused on the first floor and looked back.

"We shouldn't be too far away, in case he needs something."

"Ginny is still living in her room so I don't feel comfortable using it," Harry said. "I'm up in the twins' room."

Draco followed him up to the next floor and looked back again. "I guess this is close enough," he said. "Whose room is that?"

"That's Percy's," Harry said. "You can use it, but the bed is terrible. It squeaks so loudly that it's like sleeping on Mandrakes. And it feels like a bag of rusty hammers."

"How in Salazar's name did he sleep in there?" Draco frowned disapprovingly.

"I'm not sure he did," Harry said. "I think George and Fred might have done something to it, and that's why he moved out."

He pushed open the door to the twins' room and sat on the edge of George's bed to remove his socks. Draco paused in the doorway and looked around critically. Finally he shrugged and sat on the edge of the other bed. Harry's stomach tensed.

"Uh," he scratched his nose and cleared his throat. "That's Fred's bed."

"What's wrong with it?" Draco jumped up and checked behind him for threats.

"Nothing," Harry cleared his throat again. "Fred is," he paused. "He's not," he couldn't finish.

"Oh," Draco's expression drooped. "I heard about that."

"It doesn't feel right," Harry said apologetically.

"I guess I could go up another floor," Draco worried his lip with his fingers. "If I don't hear Ron you'll come get me, right?"

"Well," Harry glanced over his shoulder at George's bed. "If you're really worried about that, I guess," his voice trailed off. It was a ridiculous idea. He shouldn't have even brought it up.

"If you don't mind," Draco said softly. "I guess it would work."

Harry looked up in surprise. Draco was watching him intently. Neither one of them wanted to say it directly. Harry pushed the covers back and slipped into bed, then shimmied over to the edge. The bed was only a single, but it seemed like enough room.

Draco slipped his socks off and climbed into bed next to him. He squirmed and shifted and nestled his head on the edge of the pillow. They were both lying on their backs and staring at the ceiling with their arms pinned at their sides. Not particularly comfortable. Harry wiggled and shifted so one shoulder was raised, and he was just slightly tilted on his side. It was more comfortable for his raised arm, but it meant he was leaning hard on Draco. Draco squirmed and dropped his shoulder so he could tilt at the same angle. His outside arm dangled uselessly between them, not quite perfectly nesting into the space. Harry squirmed again, followed immediately by Draco, until they were both rolled over onto their right sides, Harry's back nestled into Draco's chest, their knees curved together. After a moment Draco's left hand slipped over Harry's waist and tucked between his arms.

Harry could feel Draco's breath on the back of his neck. He was awake, certainly, breathing too quickly for sleep. He was as nervous as Harry was. His heart pounded and he worried Draco would feel it under his fingertips. There was something he wanted to do but couldn't bring himself to do it. He chewed his lip as his fingers twitched, trying to defy him and do something they definitely shouldn't. His hand crept up against his better judgement and he slipped it over Draco's hand, threading their fingers together. Draco's fingers curled with him and held his hand tightly. Harry's stomach flip-flopped. He closed his eyes and held his breath as he took one more chance and gently stroked his thumb across the back of Draco's hand. A moment later, Draco's thumb stroked back.

Harry smiled and exhaled. Any other time he would have stayed awake to see what would happen. But he was exhausted and he knew Ron would be up bright and early, so he let himself fall asleep.