Quick note to say thank you to singintheshower and Ern Estine 13624 for their reviews on the previous chapter. Hope you enjoy this next update!

I've planned out most of the story now, so I can (almost) safely tell you all that it will be around 7 chapters total (probably with the seventh including the epilogue)

Chapter Four

A Chance to Say Goodbye

The next morning, Harry didn't tell Teddy that Malfoy was coming home. He told himself he was keeping the secret in the hope that the element of surprise in seeing Malfoy again would cheer Teddy up. What he knew, however, was different; that he wasn't telling Teddy about Malfoy's return just to keep their bubble a little longer.

Just so he wouldn't have to see Malfoy's name be the one that made Teddy smile again.

Teddy was sitting in Harry's lap in a large, cushioned chair in the sitting room, listening to the story of the witch and her talking cat once again when the flames roared into life, shining emerald. Malfoy stepped out of the flames, brushing soot from his robes and glancing around the room. As Teddy saw the wizard appear he leapt from Harry's lap, throwing his arms around Malfoy's legs.

"Draco!" He called out, his cry muffled his insistence to bury his head into Malfoy's robe clad legs.

"Hey Ted." Malfoy replied, a smiling crossing his face as he bent down to ruffle the young boys hair. Harry's heart twisted at the affectionate sight and he could feel the frustration rolling off him in waves. For a wild moment he was sure Malfoy felt it too because he chose that second to lift his head, nodding stiffly in Harry's direction.

"Potter." He said, greeting Harry in the same way he had left.

"Malfoy." He replied, equally stiffly. They held each others gaze for a moment before Teddy lifted his head from Malfoy's legs, looking between the pair with a puzzled expression.

"Why do you say Potter and Malfoy?" He asked, looking from Malfoy to Harry slowly. "Your names Draco, and your names Uncle Harry." He explained, as if they didn't know their names, as his gaze travelled back to Harry.

"I'm your Uncle Harry." Harry explained, even though he wasn't technically Teddy's uncle it was what he'd always been known as. "I'm not Uncle Harry to everyone." He added, clinging to an explanation which wouldn't require him to delve into their deep schoolboy rivalry, darkened by hatred and war then left to stale, awkward through a tentative support, a half-forgiveness and a need to forget.

Because, of course, three year olds could not understand such things.

Thankfully Teddy accepted the explanation, letting go of Malfoy's legs and climbing back onto Harry's lap.

"Can we finish the story?" He asked as he settled back in his previous position and Harry felt all the frustration evaporate as if it literally poured from his body. Yes, there was no denying that Teddy was obviously happy to see Malfoy again; this was the most he'd spoken since he'd learned that his grandmother wouldn't be coming back. But, in the same instance, his ease in letting go and returning to their story had shown he still appreciated Harry. The gesture, innocent and unsuspecting as it was, warmed Harry's heart.

He picked the book up – although he probably could recite the words in his sleep by now – and began to read once again. He watched, out of the corner of his eye, as Malfoy watched on then slowly retreated, leaving the room without a sound.

The next few days continued in a similar way. Each would spend time with Teddy, who was slowly but surely returning to normal conversation – asking questions, requesting stories and games, talking about things which made little sense unless you were three years old. At the same time an unspoken agreement had been reached; if Harry was spending time with Teddy Malfoy would stay away, remaining in his bedroom or the kitchen, drinking endless cups of coffee. Similarly, when Harry walked into the kitchen to find Malfoy and Teddy sharing a drink and a chat, or into the sitting room to find them playing with one of Teddy's toys, he would quietly retreat. He had no desire to watch the scenes unfold, no desire to see just how close the pair were.

They ate together, of course, because Teddy would no doubt find anything else strange. The meals were usually subdued affairs, Teddy making all the chatter – but often more interested in his food – as the two wizards avoided each other's gazes.

One night, after Harry had put Teddy to bed, he found the resolve he needed to seek out Malfoy. He knew he had to ask Malfoy something because he would never forgive himself if not. He may not like Malfoy, he may never want him living under his roof or caring for his godson, but he had to accept that he himself had said – before a full Wizengamot, reported to the entire wizarding nation in the Prophet – that Malfoy wasn't evil. So, as he knew Malfoy wasn't evil (and the Gryffindor in him would never allow him to do otherwise, anyway) he knew he had to ask.

He followed the corridors which would lead him to the room he had offered to Malfoy, a room he had not returned to since he had done. He hesitated for a moment in front of it before knocking firmly and waiting.

And waiting.

Although Harry knew he had knocked loud enough, he lifted his knuckles once more and let them rap against the wood again.

No answer.

Fine, Harry sneered to himself, he can ignore me and be a git all he likes. I tried.

Harry tried to ignore the satisfaction building in him – that he wouldn't, after all, have to ask Malfoy what he had come to ask and, if people questioned him, he could quite happily inform them that it was Malfoys own fault, thank you very much.

Feeling much happier, he turned around to stalk away and find himself a drink –

and smacked into the wall, pale and hard.

Except… the wall was also warm, and slightly wet… and moving?

Harry snapped his gaze up and found himself face to face with Malfoy, and found that the wall that he'd bumped into was in fact Malfoy's – very naked – chest. He stood in nothing more than a towel, his hair and body still slightly damp, the obvious after effects of a shower. Of course Malfoy wouldn't dress to walk from the bathroom to his room, it was only a few feet and – thanks to the narrow, tall nature of the Black house, the floor on which Malfoy slept was normally unoccupied by anyone else.

Their eyes caught and Harry shifted awkwardly, looking anywhere but Malfoy's chest. A raised eyebrow was all Malfoy gave to coolly ask for an explanation.

"I – I needed to talk to you… About something. I –" Harry closed his lips firmly, stopping his mumbling. He would not mutter away like an awkward teenager just because Malfoy wasn't wearing clothes. "Meet me in the kitchen when you're ready." He instructed, finding the authoritative tone he used when in the field. He swept away without a backwards glance, hoping with everything he had that the embarrassed flush which covered his cheeks had waited until he had passed Malfoy to appear. He tried to convince himself he had the upper hand by not revealing to Malfoy what he wanted to ask, but was scolded by the way he'd fumbled about like a fourth year who had just discovered alternative extra-curricular activities.

Once he reached the kitchen he busied himself by putting on the kettle to clear his mind. Suddenly he had an urge to reach for something a lot stronger – but he refused to let Malfoy affect him in any way. It had been a while since… Well, it had been a while since anything actually. Since discovering his sexuality Harry had… experimented often going out to muggle clubs and bars and dancing with willing muggle men. More than willing muggle men. He'd never had anything serious, anything that constituted as a relationship or even lasted more than a few weeks, but he had enjoyed his freedom. Yet with Andromeda's death, and the increasing pressure of his career before that, it had been a while since Harry had visited any of his usual spots and it had certainly been a long time since he saw another man like that.

That's what it was, Harry knew. It wasn't anything to do with Malfoy, it was simply to do with the fact that he happened to be a man, an almost naked man, in Harry's house and Harry just so happened to find men attractive, especially almost naked ones. But he wouldn't make that mistake again, he assured himself. It wasn't like Malfoy was even his type.

Although, truthfully, Harry didn't exactly have a type.

The kettle whistled and disrupted his mind from its ramblings and he poured its contents into two large mugs; one for himself, containing a tea bag and two spoons of sugar heaped so high it would be much easier to have three, and one for Malfoy, containing a large spoon of coffee, with no sugar. He turned to the table, mugs in hand, when Malfoy entered the room.

He had, very thankfully, dressed, although his hair was still damp. Without a word he slid up to the table and sat himself down, accepting the drink that Harry pushed towards him with an openly surprised expression.

"Did you put sugar in?" He asked, inspecting the black coffee as if Harry providing him with his preferred drink after a post-shower, almost naked corridor meeting was an entirely normal occurrence, which of course it wasn't.

Neither was Harry's apparently consistent desire to continually think about the fact he had just seen Malfoy almost naked and he quickly brushed the thought away.

"No, I've seen you make it enough mornings now." Harry replied as he sank into a chair at the other side of the table, opposite Malfoy. What his words implied were that Harry had seen Malfoy make his morning coffee every day since he had taken up residence in the Black house and had learnt how he liked his coffee – which he had. What his words did not admit was that all this did was reaffirm the observation that Harry had made during sixth year where his obsessive watching of Malfoy's every move had also meant he'd discovered just how the blonde wizard liked his coffee.

Malfoy nodded, taking the mug between his hands and across at Harry. "So… You had something to ask?" Malfoy asked, his tone was carefully measured, as controlled as his face was – guardedly arranged into expressionless lines. Luckily for Harry his observations of Malfoy in sixth year had provided much more than information about how he liked his coffee; they had told him much deeper secrets, such as how if you caught Malfoy's gaze in the right moment, in just the right way, his cool grey eyes would flash, betrayed the emotions his careful mask wouldn't and that if you watched his lips as he spoke, although the words were calm and controlled, he would lick his lips afterward in a show of nerves. It was always a small, subtle gesture, a quick dart of a pointy tongue, but Harry had learnt to notice it.

So as Malfoy's tongue slicked his bottom lip Harry found comfort in knowing that, despite his earlier mumblings, he had not embarrassed himself.

"It's Andromeda's funeral tomorrow." Harry said, aware he was providing a statement and not a question as promised. "I've been organising most of it, since she has little family left. I had planned for it to be quite small, but apparently the Prophet had other ideas." Harry grimaced as he remembered this morning's headline 'WAR ORPHAN ALONE AGAIN AS GRANDMOTHER DIES' the article had outlined Andromeda's death and rehashed the tragic details of Teddy's life so far. The articles writer had also taken it upon themselves to announce the time and place of her funeral so that 'friends, well-wishers and sympathisers could say farewell to another fallen hero of the war, lest we ever forget' – although the words were touching Harry had been furious. He knew Andromeda had never wanted publicity for her or Teddy – she had chased away reporters with a fury Harry had never seen when they approached for the war anniversary special addition of the prophet, who had said they wanted to dedicate a page to Teddy who they had dubbed 'the face of the new world. He was scarred by tragedy, they had said, but free to succeed in the new, bright wizarding world, they had eagerly added. It was part of the reason why Harry had been so fond of the old witch. He had no idea how they'd gained the information, and if he ever found out, there would be hell to pay.

The articles only redeeming feature had been that there was no detail of Teddy's newfound guardianship.

Malfoy hadn't had chance to see it - Harry had thrown the paper into the ashes as soon as he'd finished the article – so the news of the funeral date was indeed news to him.

"So, since I'm the one doing most of the organising, I guess it's my place to ask you if you'd like to come. I know you must have been much closer to her than I ever knew. And… It'd be good for Teddy, if we were both there." Harry added the last part grudgingly; as much as he didn't like admitting it, Teddy liked Malfoy and Malfoy appeared to be fond of him too. It would help having two people to keep him grounded through the trials of the day.

"Teddy's going?" Malfoy asked, smoothly raising an eyebrow to Harry.

Harry bristled, as if Malfoy was questioning his judgement. "Yes." He said, more than a little defensively. "I talked to him about it, I said people would be sad, but they would be saying goodbye to his granny. He said he wanted to say bye too." Harry knew by this point his chin was raised in defiance and he was fighting the urge to curl his hands into fists. He had forgotten, until that point, that legally Malfoy had as much of a right to say if Teddy should attend as Harry did.

"Relax, Potter." Malfoy said, shaking his head in obvious contempt of Harry's clear frustration. "I happen to agree with you, I attended the funerals of every member of Malfoy and Black ancestry throughout my childhood. Well, at least the Black's mother spoke to." Malfoy amended as he reached the end of his speech. "It's expected in proper wizarding culture, I just thought you'd be far too noble about taking a child to such things."

Harry relaxed at the realisation that Malfoy wasn't going to fight him on Teddy's attendance but bristled with anger again at his final words, which Harry was sure were meant as an insult; only a Slytherin could make nobility an insult.

"I'm taking him because it will be good for him to say goodbye. He deserves a chance to say goodbye." Harry allowed himself to take a moment to think of how, when his parents had died, and when Teddy's had too, there had been no choice like this. However sad the day may be Teddy would, at least, know he had the chance to say goodbye. "I'm not taking him because I'm noble and certainly not because it is expected." Harry was sure he spat the last word, finding his frustration overtook him far too easily where Malfoy and insults were concerned. Then again, it always had.

"Whatever your reasons, Potter, I agree." Malfoy said mildly, draining the last of the coffee that he'd quickly been making his way thought. "I also…. I also would like to attend." He added, his face softening from the almost argument the pair had begun. "She was a brilliant witch and, you're right, Teddy would benefit from having us both there."

Unsure what to say at the sudden change in direction and emotion, Harry merely nodded. The words were true, Andromeda had been a brilliant witch – he just hadn't expected Malfoy to say that. He allowed his words to sink in for a moment, and considered his own words before. He'd begun to accept the influence Malfoy had on Teddy's life; but he hadn't considered the impact Andromeda and Malfoy may have had on each other, the relationship they may have had, without Harry ever knowing. "He would. And…" Harry paused, slowly bringing his eyes to seek Malfoy's. "I know you clearly knew her much better than I thought… So, Teddy's not the only one who deserves a chance to say goodbye."

Malfoy's cool, grey eyes froze as Harry's found them, his normal mask of a calm, controlled look giving way to clear surprise at Harry's words. After a moment he regained his composure, he didn't break eye contact, but carefully arranged his features into a measured expression, and nodded in return. Moments ticked by, neither willing to back down by being the first to break their eye contact, to break the bridge it had just appeared they had managed to build.

Malfoy was the first to move.

"If that's all, then, I think I'll go to bed." Malfoy said, pushing himself up from the table and bidding Harry goodnight, leaving him sitting alone at the table, his tea going cold in his hand as he replayed the conversation in his mind.

The day of the funeral dawned and Harry awoke early. He allowed himself to languish beneath his covers, revelling in the few moments solitude the early morning provided. A slow flick of his wand and a quietly murmured charm pulled the heavy curtains opposite Harry's bed apart and allowed the early morning light to bathe his bedroom. Beyond the glass panes Harry could already tell the sun was rising strongly and that the day would be bright and beautiful. He smiled to himself softly; it sounded cliché, he knew, but it was the kind of day Andromeda would have wanted.

With thoughts of the witch on his mind Harry sighed, pulling himself out of bed. He stretched long and tall, pushing his muscles to spring from the ache that clung to them. He wasn't sure if the constant drumming ache in his bones which seemed to consume him these days was from the efforts of caring for a fit and healthy three year old or from the tension of having Malfoy living in his house.

Probably both, Harry mused, as he pushed on his glasses and headed to the door in search of a shower. When he stepped out into the corridor, the first thing he saw was a small figure, huddled by the side of his door.

"Teddy?" He asked softly, immediately crouching down to the young boys level.

"Uncle Harry." His godson replied, looking up at Harry with a deep look of… what Harry could only describe as thought on his face. The expression unsettled Harry even further; what things could a child possibly have to think about to make him look so troubled?

"What's wrong?" He asked, his voice still low and soft as he cast an arm around his back.

"Is Draco coming today?" He asked, with hope in his voice that immediately made Harry glad that he had asked Malfoy to attend the funeral, no matter what his personal thoughts about the wizard were.

"Yes, Teddy, he is." Harry replied, gently stroking Teddy's back with long, soothing strokes he knew would calm him.

"And you?"

Despite himself, Harry smiled. However much he may be slowly becoming more accepting of Malfoy and Teddy's relationship, he still liked to see how much Teddy relied on him too. "Of course I am."

With those words Teddy's troubled expression lifted and a small smile covered his lips as he nodded. "Will lots of people want to say goodbye to Grannie?" He asked, leaning into Harry's side, toward the comfort he provided.

"I think so… your grannie was a very wonderful witch." Harry replied honestly, shifting his position so Teddy could snuggle up against his side. Teddy was silent although Harry felt, rather than heard, a small nod of response as Teddy bumped his head against Harry's ribs. They sat for a moment in a gentle silence, Harry's arm never ceasing its slow, soothing strokes.

"I'm hungry." Teddy complained after a moment, his words muffled by his faces current position buried in Harry's chest.

"Well I was just going to shower, then I'll-" Harry paused, frowning to himself. He knew Teddy loved him, needed him… Just as much as he knew from experience that a certain blonde wizard would more than likely already be downstairs, sipping a morning coffee. "Why don't you go down and see if…" Another pause; to Harry, the wizard downstairs wasn't anything but Malfoy. To Teddy he was so much more. But calling him anything other than Malfoy seemed… wrong. "Your cousins awake to make you some breakfast?" Harry settled on in the end, relief washing through him as Teddy scurried away after another brief nod.

Harry watched Teddy disappear down the staircase then stood and slipped into the bathroom. He shivered in the cool bathroom as he stripped his pyjamas, sighing with relief as he dived under the warm spray of the shower. The hot water cascaded over his body, eased his aching muscles and awoke his troubled mind. He had no idea how long he stood under the spray; the water, as was usual in a wizarding household, had a permanent heating charm in place meaning showers never went cold. Eventually, and somewhat reluctantly as he thought of the day ahead, Harry pulled himself from the shower, choosing to dry completely in the warmth of the bathroom before wrapping himself in his bathrobe to pad back to his room. His dress robes were ready and waiting, neatly hung and pressed on the front of the wardrobe where he had hung them the night before. Once dressed, he tried in vain to flatten his hair with various charms he had long since abandoned; of course none worked, they never had. Sighing at his generally dishevelled appearance – all the smart dress robes appeared to do was make his hair look (if possible, which he doubted) even worse – Harry turned away from the mirror and left his bedroom in search of food.

He crept quietly down stairs, hovering in the corridor outside the kitchen. It wasn't that he was eavesdropping, of course not, he just… wondered. He liked to know how Teddy was with Malfoy. However, nothing but silence hit his ears. Instantly panicked Harry pushed open the kitchen door and dove inside;

Nothing.

The kitchen was empty. There were no plates, pans or cups in sight. Everything was as neat, tidy and clean as it had been the night before. Harrys mind whirled, his Auror senses immediately gearing into overdrive. Where was Teddy? Malfoy? Where had he taken him? There was no evidence of breakfast, no evidence of anything… But where would they go? Harry was sure that Malfoy had sold his house in France. But what if his time in France had been nothing but a cover? What if he had told Harry tales of selling his home, but instead had spent his time over there preparing to bring Teddy over?

Harry felt his palms beginning to sweat and pulled his wand out of the pocket of his robes. First, he would check their rooms. Perhaps there would be a trace of magic, something Harry could track to find out when and where they had gone. This time his steps were far from creeping; he flew up the staircase, taking the steps two – if not three – at a time as he sprinted upwards, flinging open the door to Teddy's room.

Empty.

The dress robes Harry had hung on his wardrobe were gone. Harry wasted no time looking through the rest of the room and turned on his heel, heading up another flight of stairs which would take him to the floor on which Malfoy's bedroom was on.

He flung open the door to Malfoy's bedroom and stopped dead in his tracks.

There they were, both Teddy and Malfoy, looking at their reflections in the mirror, Teddy wearing the very robes that Harry had laid out.

"Potter?" Malfoy asked, whipping around as soon as Harry's loud footsteps made his arrival clear. His eyes seemed to flicker over Harry's generally erratic appearance – wand in hand, breathing heavily, a thin sheen of sweat now covering his forehead – and he raised a single, cool eyebrow.

"I – er… I just..." Harry tumbled over his own words, shame instantly eating at him for his immediate impulse to jump to the negative. "You weren't having breakfast. There was no breakfast. Teddy's robes were gone. I worried. But you're here." Harry was aware his speech was coming out in short, badly formed sentences – but at least he was managing to string words together now. He willed his cheeks not to heat up and betray the guilt he was feeling and give away the conclusions he had leapt to.

"I am capable of washing up, you know, Potter." Malfoy replied as he smoothed down the edges of a very fine pair of – was that silk? – robes. "Teddy said you were still in the shower when he wanted to get ready, so I brought him up here with me."

That, of course, was a perfectly logical explanation. Dumbfounded by his own reckless attitude, his jump to the worst conclusion, his negative thoughts of Malfoy's intentions; especially – Harry mentally added, the burn of his shame increasing – after the moment they shared in the kitchen the night before.

The best he could manage was a nod, lowering his wand as he tucked them into his robes.

"Uncle Harry, Draco's robes are the bestest." Teddy said as he approached Harry, a thankfully blissfully unaware distraction from the tension in the room. "They feels pretty. We look pretty, but Draco feels pretty. Do you want to feel him Uncle Harry?"

A sudden, unwarranted, image of Malfoy in the corridor the previous night – half naked, dripping with water, pale and smooth – flashed into Harry's mind. He pushed it away as soon as it came, but that was it. If there had been any hope that Harry's cheeks had managed not to redden during his earlier embarrassment, that hope was gone now.

"Er, no thanks, Ted. I'm ok. You look great!" Harry replied, quickly and very over enthusiastically adding the final comment, hoping to distract Teddy from his desire to talk about how Malfoy felt. How he felt pretty, of all things.

Teddy turned back to the mirror, smoothing out his robes in an action that perfectly mirrored the one Malfoy had done moments before. When he turned back to Harry, his eyes were wide and full of worry. "Do you think Grannie would have liked me?" He asked, his voice so quiet Harry barely heard it.

Emotion swelled up, forming in a lump in Harry's throat. He tried to speak, but he couldn't seem to find the ability to form words. Everything he wanted to say got stuck in the lump of emotion twisted around his throat.

"Of course, Ted." The voice that spoke was just as quiet as Teddy's had been, and came from the other side of the room. Malfoy had crouched next to Teddy and placed a hand on his shoulder. "She would have thought you were the most handsome young wizard in the world!" he added dramatically, earning a slow but sure smile from the young boy.

As Malfoy stood Harry caught his eye and gave him a nod of thanks, which the blonde returned. Once again Harry tried to avoid thinking about his thoughts in the kitchen not even half an hour ago.

"Shall we go?" Harry asked, taking Teddy's hand and leading him from the room without another word.