I See That You've Come So Far (This Feels Like Falling In Love)

20 November, 1999

A shrieking wail pierces the night air, jerking Harry from sleep. He groans and pulls a pillow over his head, trying to block the noise out. It's been nearly a month since he's had a full night's sleep, and to be honest, he needs some rest. Quidditch trials for the English National Team have just ended, and the exhaustion he feels in his bones is thick like molasses, deep-set to the point where he's not sure if he'll ever be properly awake again. He burrows further into the blankets as he feels the bed shift next to him, and his sluggish brain thinks that maybe, if he covers himself in enough of the thick fabric, he'll be able to ignore the crying and get back to sleep. Just as he's about to drift off again, though, the quilt is ripped from his face and a hand comes down hard on his backside.

"Put some pants on, Potter," Draco's voice grunts at him, and he feels a pair of pyjamas collide with the back of his head. "He'll be in here in a moment."

Harry groans again and rolls over, wincing at the tight muscles in his arms and legs. He fumbles blindly for his glasses on the bedside table and shoves them on his face, glaring up at Draco's outline, just barely illuminated by the faint, pre-dawn light coming in from the window of the bedroom.

"Can't we just lock his door at night?" Harry asks, only half joking, as he pulls the pants on without getting up. "That's what my aunt and uncle did when I was a kid."

He can just scarcely see one of Draco's eyebrows raise toward his hairline as he climbs back into the bed. "Oh, yes, and you're very well adjusted," he says, his voice dripping in a kind of sneering sarcasm that normally wouldn't bother Harry, but just now, when the dial on the clock has barely made it to morning and the birds haven't even begun to sing, he doesn't think he's quite in the mood for Draco's sometimes tiresome personality.

"Shut up," Harry huffs, rolling over so his back's to Draco and punching his pillow back into shape rather violently. "You know, I really can't stand you sometimes."

Draco mumbles something to himself, and Harry distinctly catches the words 'didn't mind me too much a few hours ago,' and 'no one's paying you to actually stay,' and he knows he's being unreasonable because he's exhausted and irritable, but he feels a hot thrill of anger run through him.

"What did you just say to me?" he asks, sitting up too quickly, his head going a bit light with the rush of blood. "I believe this is my house, Malfoy."

"Only on paper," Draco says, his voice cold and defiant.

Harry rolls his eyes. "Unbelievable. Not this again," he says, exasperated. "Look, I let you into this house and I can put you out again just as easily."

"You wouldn't dare," Draco scoffs, flopping back into his pillows and making himself comfortable in an obvious, challenging sort of way.

"Oh, I wouldn't?" Harry asks, though he knows Draco's right. "You just watch me. One more word, I swear."

They've been fighting more than usual lately, their tempers rising quicker than they normally would, and the constant bickering is starting to grate on Harry's nerves. For one thing, their insults aren't nearly as clever as they once were, as there's no real animosity between them anymore, but more importantly than that, it's making his life very unpleasant. The spats that keep coming up are over pointless little things, things that normally wouldn't even bother Harry, but they've both had so much dumped on them recently, had so much extra stress added to their lives, that it's hard not to vent their building frustrations at each other.

It had all started up roughly a month ago, when Harry had gotten a Floo call one morning from a very distraught looking Mr Weasley. He and Draco had been sitting in the large kitchen of Number Twelve, eating breakfast quietly, Draco occasionally snorting to himself before reading aloud the long and flowery articles written in the Daily Prophet about Harry in a simpering voice. Harry lobbed bits of toast across the table at him whenever he did this, and Draco, with an amused smile on his face, would continue to read as he ducked the flying food, his voice growing more and more shrill as he went on. It had all been very normal for them until the loud chime announced the call.

Harry, still laughing in spite of himself, looked over at the fireplace, which had just roared to life. "Oh, hello, Mr Weasley," he said cheerfully, but his smile faded a bit when he saw the look on the other man's face. "What's wrong?"

"Yes, good morning, Harry…Draco…" Mr Weasley said distractedly. "I'm afraid I've got a bit of bad news for you."

Harry suddenly felt his heart sink horribly, and he lowered his teacup, glancing at Draco. He knew they were both thinking the same thing. Though it had been more than a year since the end of the war, most of those who had actually fought in it still had irrational bouts of paranoia every now and again, fearing that somehow…some way…it was all going to happen over again. If it did…well, it would be bad for Harry, obviously, but it would be worse, far worse, for Draco and his family, who had defected at the last moment.

"It's not…is it?" Harry asked, his voice suddenly a bit fainter than usual. "But it can't be…"

"No, no, it's not that," Mr Weasley said hurriedly, shaking his head and giving them both a very remorseful look. "No, but it's…this isn't easy to tell you…I know you had all grown quite close..."

Harry wanted to shout at him to spit it out already, but he held his tongue. Though he felt a sliver of relief at the reassurance that it wasn't Voldemort, there was still a strong sense of foreboding curling in his stomach at the look in Mr Weasley's eyes.

"I'm afraid that…well, I suppose…yes, it's easier if I just tell you…but maybe I should wait until later in the day…" he went on, still fumbling with his words.

"For Merlin's sake," Draco said, clearly trying to sound frustrated, though his voice was shaking a bit with nerves, and Harry noticed his knuckles had gone very white where they were still gripping the paper. "Just say it, will you?"

"Yes, of course," Mr Weasley replied, nodding his head. "Better to hear it from me, I suppose. Boys, I'm sorry to have to be the one to tell you this, but it's Andromeda…she's had an accident. They've just finished transporting her to St Mungo's."

Harry's mouth went a bit dry. "And Teddy?" he asked, sitting up straighter in his chair. "Is he alright?"

"Oh, yes, he's fine, just a bit shaken up I think," Mr Weasley replied, attempting to look reassuring. "But I'm not so sure about Andromeda…she was messed up pretty badly when I saw her."

Draco shook his head, as if he were trying to make sense of what he was hearing. "But what happened?" he asked, his brow knitting in confusion. "She's not clumsy or anything, I mean to say. And she's never been involved in anything dangerous, not as far as I know."

"Well, they're not quite sure at the moment, but they think it may have just been an ordinary Muggle explosion. A gas line or something like it. I'm working on sorting it all out," Mr Weasley said before looking over his shoulder and saying something to someone on his side. When he turned back to them, it was with a slightly less distressed expression. "She's just woken up. Harry, she's asking for you. You should get there as quickly as you can. I'm sorry, but I've got to go. Very busy here…"

"Yeah, we won't keep you," Harry said, his mind racing as Mr Weasley disappeared and the fireplace went dark again. What if it was something serious? But it couldn't be too bad, could it? Harry had been around magic long enough to know that witches and wizards didn't start dying of natural causes until they were well into their second century of life, and anything…well, anything other than a powerful curse…could be fixed by the Healers at St Mungo's, couldn't it? He'd seen people cured of things that Muggle doctors would have been at a loss over. For Merlin's sake, he'd had his whole arm grown back overnight once. What could possibly be bad enough to cause Mr Weasley to look so worried?

"Harry," Draco said quietly, pulling him out of his thoughts by placing a hand on Harry's arm. "We should get dressed and go. It sounds like it could be bad."

Harry nodded vaguely, and pushed away from the table to follow Draco back up the stairs. He was silent all the way up, and Draco kept throwing uneasy looks over his shoulder at him, clearly worried.

"She'll probably be fine," Draco said as they got ready to go, though he didn't sound entirely convinced. "I doubt it's anything the Healers can't fix."

When they arrived at the hospital a short time later, though, it quickly became apparent that the accident was not a minor one. After being directed to Andromeda's wing by a rather star-struck looking witch at the help desk, they reached the fourth floor to find a scene of chaos unfolding before their eyes. Harry took a quick step backward into Draco as a man rushed past, looking frazzled, and Draco had to catch himself on the door of the lift to keep the both of them from toppling over.

"I think it's this way," Harry said, looking in the direction from which the man had just come. "C'mon."

As they walked toward the room, a heavy feeling of dread curling in Harry's stomach, he felt one of Draco's hands press lightly into the small of his back. This was a rather uncharacteristic display of public affection, but when Harry glanced sideways at him, a bit surprised, it was clear from the expression on his face that Draco probably needed just as much reassurance as Harry did. Although they had been very careful over the past year to ensure that their personal lives were kept from the public (for more reasons than one), Harry wrapped an arm around Draco's shoulders and, without any hesitation, pulled him a bit closer as they walked past a group of Healers and into the room.

The sight that met their eyes was, at the very least, unexpected. Andromeda was lying on a bed, nearly unrecognisable, her face battered and bloody, a flock of Mediwizards fluttering about her bed in a whirl of monogrammed robes and waving wands, all muttering to each other worriedly. As Draco pulled one of them aside to ask for details on what had happened, Harry hurried over to the rather exhausted looking Ministry witch who was trying very hard to cling to a struggling, bawling Teddy.

"Nana!" shrieked the squirming toddler. "I want Nana!"

The witch looked up and noticed Harry standing over them and pushed her frazzled hair out of her eyes. "He hasn't stopped screaming for her since we brought them here," she said, her expression slightly crazed. "Are you family?"

Harry shook his head. "I'm his godfather," he said, reaching to take Teddy from her arms. "Here, let me help. Was he with her when the accident happened?"

The witch nodded, pulling a crumpled piece of parchment from her bag and reading from it. "They say he was found nearly 300 feet from the site, though. Must have been accidental magic. Instinct, you know. Unfortunately, I think everything happened too quickly for her to react." She nodded toward Andromeda's bed, and Harry felt the tightness in his heart get worse when he caught Draco's eye. Draco shook his head once, lips tight, a worried look on his face.

"And they've checked to make sure he wasn't hurt?" Harry asked, bouncing Teddy on his hip, trying to ease his crying. "What exactly happened?"

"I only know what they've told me," the witch said, rising from her seat. "I'm from the Department for the Aid of Magical Children. The Ministry sent me over to collect Theodore in the event of…well, you know. Just in case."

Harry instinctively took a step backward, clutching Teddy tighter to his body. "Collect him?" he asked, alarmed. "What does that mean, collect him?"

The Ministry witch took a deep breath, and it looked as though she regretted needing to tell him this. "In the event of the death of Mrs Tonks, his last surviving immediate family member, the Ministry feels it best that he go into the care of a qualified foster family," she said carefully, not quite meeting his eye.

"But I'm his godfather!" Harry said a bit too loudly, and Teddy, who had only just stopped crying, started up again, kicking his legs at Harry's stomach. Images of his own childhood began to resurface: growing up without a connection to his past, not knowing who he was until it was almost too late, being raised without even knowing his parent's names. "His parents wanted me to be there for him if something happened. I should be the one taking care of him."

"Well, yes, that was their wish," she said, shifting a bit uncomfortably. Harry noticed her eyes flick over his shoulder to where he knew Draco was standing, just out of earshot. "But you're very young, and in light of your…erm…well, with your current living situation being as it is, the Ministry feels that the child should be brought up away from, shall we say…any negative influences."

Harry couldn't be sure, but he thought the lights in the room flickered a bit as he felt a surge of anger run through him. It appeared that he and Draco had not been as careful about their relationship as they'd thought, and the Ministry was, once again, poking its nose where it didn't belong. He was about to open his mouth to argue when a faint voice made everyone in the room stop what they were doing and turn.

"Stop," Andromeda said weakly from her bed. "Harry, come here."

An abused looking hand reached from under the blankets to grasp his when he reached the bed and he awkwardly shifted Teddy so he could take hold of it. What he could see of Andromeda's face seemed to be twisted up into a faint smile. Draco came to stand next to him, looking down at his aunt with a distressed expression on his face. Harry could tell what he was thinking. Draco had only just begun to know Andromeda and now, after they'd all lost so many people, just when they'd thought things could be peaceful, they may lose another.

"I've watched the two of you grow so much over the last year," she said, her voice already becoming more distant, "and I'm immensely proud of you both. You're so brave, and I know you'll grow into incredible men in years to come."

"Don't," Draco said, his voice a bit choked. "Don't say goodbye. You'll be just fine."

Andromeda shook her head on the pillow, her eyes falling closed for a moment. "I'm glad that I was finally able to know you," she told him warmly, a smile on her face. "Tell your mother I hold no grudge."

Draco nodded silently, but didn't speak. Harry, for his part, was at a total loss for words. He had never been very good with tragedy, not when there was nothing he could do to help the situation, and he absently rubbed Teddy's back with his free hand, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios. Teddy, who seemed scared by the sight of his grandmother lying broken on the bed, had hidden his face in Harry's neck, still sniffling.

"If you two think you're ready for it, I will insist that Teddy come to live with you," Andromeda said, bringing Harry back to ground. "I sincerely hope you are, but if not, he'll go to live with a family until you are ready."

"Of course we'll take him," Harry said quickly, glancing at the Ministry witch who was standing close by. "I won't let him grow up like I did. He'll know his place in the world."

Draco's eye caught his in the moment of silence that followed this proclamation, and Harry saw that he looked unsure. They were young, after all, and though they'd both gotten to know Teddy over the past year, taking care of a child full time was a huge responsibility. It seemed that Draco was itching to be the voice of reason to Harry's tendency to recklessly jump into situations with both feet, but now, when Andromeda was lying on a hospital bed in front of them, already looking drained of life, it was not the time.

"We'll do it," Harry said again, more firmly, but this time it was directed more toward Draco than Andromeda.

After that, things seemed to pass in a bit of a blur. The Ministry witch bustled over with a thick stack of papers for them to sign, and, in what seemed to be a heart-wrenchingly short amount of time, Andromeda faded away. Harry was left with an empty feeling and a deep kind of sadness for Teddy. The little boy had lost so much in such a short amount of time, and Harry felt his resolve strengthen that this would be the last loss he'd have to suffer. As he passed Teddy over to Draco for a moment so he could stretch out his back, he knew they would get through this, that they'd be okay. If they could put to rest years of bitter rivalry and grow as close as they had over the past year, what was stopping them from conquering this as well?

A month on, though, and Harry has to admit that it's proven to be more of a challenge than either of them expected. Teddy has been through a lot and hasn't slept through the night since they brought him home. The stress of lost sleep and childcare has taken a lot out of them and definitely put a strain on their relatively new relationship.

Harry has found himself thinking lately, rather selfishly, that he wishes he and Draco could have had a bit more time together, just the two of them. When they'd taken Teddy in, Draco had just begun to recover from the physical and mental torture he'd suffered during and after the war. He no longer looked sickly or bony, his cheeks had more colour in them than Harry could remember ever seeing, his cruel smirks had been more or less replaced with happy smiles and real, genuine laughter, and they'd nearly stopped bickering over little things. Now, though, Harry thinks, he's lucky if he gets in five hours of sleep at a time, lucky to have any sort of alone time with Draco, especially now that Quidditch training has been going on.

He doesn't necessarily regret his decision. He just wishes he'd been more prepared for what they were getting themselves into. Practically adopting a toddler has proven to be much more of an ordeal than they'd expected, and it's been tough.

Harry stares down at Draco in the dark room, frustration still balling up in his stomach at the sight of the blonde man looking at him defiantly from his comfortable position in bed, and he's about to continue the argument they'd been having when he hears the bedroom door creak open and the quiet sounds of sniffling drift in from the hall. Harry reaches for his wand on the bedside table and casts a bit of light on the small figure standing in the doorway.

"Hey Teddy," he says, his voice tired, though a good deal kinder than before. "Did you have a bad dream again?"

Teddy nods, clutching tightly to his blanket, his eyes stung red with tears. He watches apprehensively as Draco also sits up and looks over at him. Something in Draco's expression seems to ease his worries, though, and he points a shaking finger at the two of them. "Bed?" he asks around the thumb in his mouth.

Draco runs a weary hand through his hair. "Yeah," he says, and though Harry can hear a resigned tone in his voice, he pats the mattress in between their bodies. "Come on."

Teddy scrambles across the room as fast as his small legs can carry him and allows Draco to lift him up and settle him down under the blankets. Harry feels Teddy's head nudge against his shoulder as he wriggles into the warm space between them, and a sleepy smile spreads across his face before he can help it.

"Unca Harry?" Teddy asks around a huge yawn.

Harry wraps an arm around him and nudges Draco's foot at the end of the bed with one of his own. "Yeah, Ted?"

"We make breakfast?" he asks, and his voice sounds hopeful.

Harry lets out a quiet, exhausted sounding laugh, shaking his head. "When the sun comes up," he says, though he knows Teddy will probably be squirming and restless before then.

His eyes meet Draco's over the little boy's head, and he smiles faintly. I'm sorry, he mouths, and Draco nods his head, smiling back and letting his eyes fall closed as Teddy rolls away from Harry to curl into a ball between them. Though he's exhausted, frustrated, and irritable to an alarming degree these days, whenever the three of them share these quiet little moments together, Harry can't help but feel they made the right decision. While it may have torn other couples apart, and has certainly caused them to fight more than normal, the stress and responsibility that Teddy has brought with him seems to have pulled them closer together. Harry watches as Draco pulls the blanket tight over Teddy, and something in his heart seems to grow warmer.

"I love you," he hears himself mutter. It's the first time he's said it, and it hadn't been entirely thought out; the words seem to have come out of their own accord.

Draco hums tiredly and a smile spreads across his face, his hand reaching over Teddy to take hold of one of Harry's. "Of course you do, Potter," he says as Teddy shifts a bit. Harry rolls his eyes and kicks at Draco, trying not to wake the sleeping boy, but Draco squeezes his hand and catches his eye again. "I love you too, by the way, in case you were wondering," he says, his voice still hushed.

They're silent after that, and as Harry begins to drift back to sleep, he can't help but think how strange his life is turning out. The three of them, lying here in bed together in the early hours of the morning. It feels almost like a family. He knows that Teddy will be awake again very soon and that Draco will huff about not getting enough sleep and that he'll feel dead on his feet as he makes the coffee, but he also knows that nothing is going to make him want to give any of this up. Though they haven't had any sort of in depth discussion about their future yet, Harry can tell they're in this for the long-haul, and, as much as that realisation should probably terrify him, it might be exactly what he needs.

A/N: Let me know what you think! :) Review! Pleeeease.