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Chapter Five

Words That Need to be Said

With Harry being the organiser of Andromeda's funeral the three were, of course, the earliest. He'd chosen an outdoor location, near a lake by the house that Teddy and Andromeda had shared; the parallels with Dumbledore's funeral were not lost on him; the outdoors, the nearby lake, the deep sense of loss. Harry supposed that as Dumbledore's funeral was the first wizarding funeral he'd attended (which was a number that, after the war, rose more dramatically than Harry ever wanted to think about) it was fitting that the first wizarding funeral he organised bore some similarities. The sun shone just as brightly as it had when Harry awoke, yet a cool breeze from the nearby lake tumbled over them, keeping them cool under their robes. He looked around the area and saw the way the wards he'd ordered to be organised after the news of Andromeda's funeral in The Prophet. Only those who had heard the exact time, date and location of the funeral from Harry would be able to apparate within the area – those who had read the leaked details in the newspaper would be able to come close, but not inside. He, Malfoy and Teddy had apparated directly into the wards and would apparate out of them too – there was no need for Teddy to be exposed to the press. Harry was pleased to notice the wards were only given away by their faint glitter in the sun; if he hadn't been looking for them, he wouldn't have known they were there. When he peered closely, he was able to see the large dome shape that stretched from the lake to where he stood, encasing the rows of white chairs pointing toward the water and – Harry noted, swallowing yet another lump in his throat – Andromeda's casket.

"Mr Potter?" A voice asked, interrupting Harry from his thoughts. He turned to see a small, kind looking witch who he had come to knew through Andromeda. As far as Harry knew, she had been one of Andromeda's few close friends – but then again Harry thought, with a sly glance toward where Malfoy had now seated himself on the front row with Teddy, how much did he really know?

"Hello, Mrs Hobday." Harry greeted, giving her what he hoped was a warm smile. It wasn't that he didn't feel warmly to the witch; she had been kind, funny and generous to both Andromeda and Teddy whenever he met her… It was rather that today, of all days, wasn't really a day for the warmest of smiles.

"Do call me Violetta, dear." She replied, smiling as she always did when she spoke to him. "I came early to see if you needed any help with Teddy. Where is he?"

Harry smiled thankfully, her kindness managing to break temporarily through his sorrow. He spared another glance toward Malfoy and noticed how the witch's eyes followed his direction.

"He's over there." Harry replied, although he knew the words were pointless. Inside he was scanning Violetta's face for any trace of recognition of who stood beside Teddy, if she knew of Andromeda's growing links with her family and, if she did, what she thought of them?

"Is that the Malfoy boy?" Violetta asked, her voice instantly sharpening and her kind smile shallowing out into a grim line.

So that answered Harry's first question; she did recognise Malfoy. Then again, anyone in the wizarding UK tended to recognise the Malfoy family – their pale faces and bright blonde hair were like a beacon of their heritage. He simply nodded, waiting for Violetta to offer more answers to his unspoken questions.

"Well." She said, sniffing slightly as if there were an unpleasant smell under her nose. "Andromeda did tell me she was… In contact with Narcissa, but I can't say I agreed. After what they did to her, her own family! Where is she, then?"

"Er… She's dead." Harry replied after having a moment to register her words. So she did know that Andromeda had been talking to the Malfoy's again… But Andromeda had obviously received a less than warm reaction to the news. Was that why she hadn't told Harry? Had she worried his reaction – with him being the one leading the fight against the side her sister took – would be the same? Harry couldn't deny it; it would have been. But, all the same, his heart ached.

He wished she would have told him.

He wished she was still here.

"Good riddance, I say." Violetta answered tartly, her displeased gaze still focused intently on the back of Malfoy's head. "So what's he doing here? What are you letting him hang around Teddy for?"

"I er… I don't exactly have a choice." Harry admitted with a slight shrug of his shoulders. In that moment he realised just how little people – Ron and Hermione included, until a few nights earlier – knew about what had happened to Teddy since the death of his grandmother. "As he was the only remaining living relative of Teddy and Andromeda left no direction specifying her wishes for Teddy's care he's been named – along with me – a legal guardian of Teddy."

Harry's words had the effect on her expression Harry imagined would happen if she had bitten into an extremely sour lemon. Her lips pursed and her whole face seemed to wrinkle inward in distaste.

"Just you watch out, Harry. Don't you go letting him get too close. Dangerous family." She walked away, shaking her head and Harry allowed a breath of relief to escape his lips. He had been struck by Violetta's words; he knew, deep down, they were the things he'd been thinking himself since the day he met Malfoy in Cairn's office. Merlin, he'd thought those thoughts this very morning as he'd torn through the house, certain in his fear that Malfoy had taken Teddy away.

But, he knew just as surely, that he had been wrong to think that way.

The sound of various pops of apparition filled the air as Harry watched Violetta take her seat – which was, Harry noticed, on the opposite side of the front row to Malfoy. Harry remained in place, greeting the various witches and wizards he'd invited and ignoring the furrowed brows, furtive glances and downright glares cast toward the front as each guest realised who was sitting with Teddy.

"Harry!" Said a familiar voice, the owner of which immediately bound him in an almost bone splitting hug. Even if Harry hadn't heard the words he would have known just from the arms around him who this next guest was.

"Hello Mrs Weasley" he replied as he returned the hug before stepping back to smile and nod in greeting to the rest of the Weasley family; Arthur, Bill, Fleur and Victorie, George, Ginny and Ron and Hermione.

"How are you dear? Are you eating properly? Is Teddy eating properly? Where is he?" The tumbling fuss of questions from Molly's lips gave no dip, no chance for Harry to respond as she held him at arms length, carefully scrutinising him and fussing with the collar of his robes.

Steeling himself, Harry decided to answer the final question; it was, of course, the one that had been on everyone's lips. "He's over there." Harry said, jerking his head to the front of the chairs in the direction he now knew seated Malfoy. "With Malfoy."

The reactions were varied. Ron and Hermione looked sympathetic; they, of course, already knew. Bill and Fleur quite openly glared and, as Harry gazed once again over the scars on Bill's cheek, he knew couldn't blame them. Ginny and George frowned, although their hatred wasn't as pronounced. Mrs Weasley tutted under her breath, shaking her head softly.

"Yes, yes, Ron and Hermione told us all about it." She told him, pausing to frown in his direction. "We got Arthur to check up on him, of course, at the Ministry but… There's nothing. Still, you know Harry, you'll have to be careful."

"I know.." Harry replied, shrugging his shoulders toward the people he considered family. "I know. But there's nothing I can do. He seems, well… He seems ok, I suppose. Teddy loves him." Harry carefully looked over the expressions of the assembled Weasley's as he spoke, aware that described Malfoy as 'ok' was positively a glowing compliment. "You all agreed with me, after the war, when I saved him. You all told me I was doing the right thing…" He knew his tone was pathetic now, almost pleading. He needed someone, anyone, to tell him he hadn't made a mistake.

"I don't doubt your decision, Harry. But you need to remember who he is. Who his family was." Mrs Weasley told him firmly. "We can't sit here and pretend his aunt didn't kill Teddy's mother. That's a conversation you're going to have to have one day!"

Harry's blood ran cold at the thought; he'd never once imagined the conversation in years to come when Teddy would want to know how his parents died. That had always been set up to be Andromeda's job. Now, it would be Harry's. Or Malfoys… And his mother's murder would be….

Harry didn't know it was possible for his blood to run any colder; although it did, when a throat cleared behind him.

"I'm aware that such a conversation will need to take place. I'm sure I will pay for it, as I have paid for all my actions." Malfoy's voice was a shock; Harry didn't know when he'd arrived, or how long he'd been listening. Just how much had he heard? "Andromeda found a way to forgive us and I can only hope that Teddy, when he is old enough, will do the same."

As Malfoy finished, the mouths of each and every Weasley were gaping open. Harry thought absent mindedly that the old Malfoy would probably have had some cutting comment about how it was disgusting that a Pureblood family were so poor they couldn't afford a brain cell between them; yet the new Malfoy simply turned away and looked toward Harry. "A word, Potter?" He asked as he cocked his head in the direction of an empty patch of grass a few feet away.

Harry made no move to step away from his position beside the Weasleys. "You can tell me here."

Malfoy gazed over at the Weasleys who had by now composed themselves and were looking over at him expectantly. The blonde turned back to Harry and nodded. "Naturally, there are people here who aren't pleased to see a Malfoy." He began, his chin raised and his expression set in a calm, cool look of confidence. Harry knew, however, from months of watching him in sixth year, the ways the mask could crack. His eyes seemed to cloud over, betraying the emotion within and his voice wobbled slightly as he spoke. "I think it would be for the best if I were to go back. Teddy will be fine with you."

Harry watched closely as Malfoy spoke, noting all the signs which made Harry sure that his upturned chin, his broad shoulders, his tall stance were all false bravado. The wizard before him was clearly – although, Harry supposed, only clearly to him – troubled. He was scared, worried, alone. Harry glanced behind him to where Teddy stood, dutifully standing a few paces back, no doubt where Malfoy had instructed him to wait.

"No. You have as much right to be here as anyone else does. Teddy needs you too." It was only as the words left Harry's lips he realised them to be true, only as he spoke them that he truly accepted them. "Anyone that has a problem with that…" Harry paused, scanning the crowd before slowly eyeing each of the Weasleys – his eyes stopping on Bill and Fleur in particular, "will have to speak to me."

Harry stood and waited, allowing his words to settle. It was only then he realised the consequences of what he had said. Had he really just offered an ultimatum to the people he thought of as family in opposition to someone who, just two weeks ago he hated and just this morning he thought had kidnapped his godson? Well, too late now, his Gryffindor courage told him.

"Of course, Harry." Hermione spoke first, reaching out to take his hand and squeeze it. He smiled in thanks and returned the gesture, thankful that he always could rely on Hermione, no matter how far apart they drifted. But, the rest of the Weasleys? He still loved them, but since his split with Ginny… Their relationships hadn't been the same. He didn't visit as often and slowly but surely, they hadn't asked as often. Harry watched as the group parted; Ron followed his wife's lead and nodded in support of Harry. On the other side, however, Bill and Fleur turned away in unison to take their seats. Mrs Weasley seemed to dither in the middle of her brood, clearly uncomfortable.

"Well, Harry dear, you know we will always trust your judgement." She told him and offered a smile, although it didn't reach her eyes in the same way her first greeting had and the arms didn't reach out to embrace him again. She took her husband's hand and followed her eldest son to take some of the few remaining seats. With brief nods of their own, the rest of the Weasleys followed her.

Harry watched them go, trying to ignore the way a knot twisted in his stomach.

"Come on then, it'll be about to start." Harry said, turning back to Malfoy and briskly pacing toward Teddy, scooping him into his arms and carrying him back to the front of the crowd enveloped in a tight hug. Teddy, of course, was capable of walking. But the gesture wasn't for Teddy, it was for Harry. He soothed himself in the soft scent which was his godson, the feel of his small yet solid body against his.

Harry took a seat at the front of the crowd in silence, placing Teddy on the chair next to him where he had once been sat with Malfoy who had followed the pair and now sat beside Teddy. Harry tried to ignore the burning sensation on the back of his neck which he knew came from the watchful eyes of every assembled witch and wizard and stared resolutely forward as the ceremony began.

The wizard who led the ceremony droned on about war and peace, suffering and freedom, love and forgiveness. Harry resisted the urge to snort at the understanding murmur that rippled the crowd as the word 'forgiveness' was spoken.

"Now Mr Potter, god father to Edward Lupin who we know as Andromeda Tonks' only remaining relative, will say a few words."

If Harry had had any intention of reading the words written on the parchment in the pocket of his robes that intention disappeared with the wizard's introduction. As Harry stepped out to the front of the assembled guests he saw no need to cast a 'snorus' charm, each witch and wizard was sitting in captivated silence, staring straight toward Harry.

"So far today we have heard words of war and peace, suffering and freedom and most importantly, love and forgiveness. It is true that Andromeda knew all of these, she was a brilliant witch and she will be dearly missed." Harry took a breath, pausing as he scanned the eyes of the crowd. As his gaze settled on Malfoy, who was watching with him with a carefully calculated expression which guarded the words he'd heard that day, Harry knew what he had to say. "I find it troubling, however, that we are listening to these words, agreeing with these values that Andromeda held dear, yet not expressing them ourselves. Indeed, I was introduced as Teddy's god father, which is true. What is not true, however, is that he is Andromeda's only remaining relative. Sitting amongst us today is another, her nephew, Draco Malfoy." Harry paused as a murmur rippled through the crowd and heads twisted toward Malfoy's seat at the front as if none had been aware of him before. "Many of you here today are guilty of not extending Andromeda's values. She offered love and forgiveness to her nephew, she accepted him in her life. She introduced him to her grandson, a boy who loves him deeply in return. If Andromeda were to have one legacy, it should be forgiveness."

Harry had no idea where his eloquent words came from; it was true, of course, that he'd had plenty of experience in delivering speeches after the war but these were usually pre-prepared by the Ministry and, when he began to refuse their words that seemed so distant from the reality of what had happened, by Hermione. Today Harry was coursing through his words with blazing, raw emotion. Each word he spoke was a revelation not only to the crowd, but to himself. His thoughts of Hermione led him to seek her out through the faces before him; when he did, she smiled, and he smiled in return.

"Rest in peace, Andromeda." He said, touching her casket softly before he turned away and headed back toward his seat. As he walked, he heard the soft, surprised murmur of the crowd repeating his words.

Rest in peace, Andromeda.

As he returned to his seat he snuck a glance at Malfoy. His face was still a carefully arranged mask of calm but his eyes seemed slightly wet, glistening in the shimmering light of the sun. Surely he couldn't be… Crying?

Harry had no more time to stare, however, as he took his seat once more. The wizard who had introduced him rose to his feet again, swiftly moving the ceremony on and bringing it to a close. As the final words were spoken, a murmur of movement travelled through the people behind them as they sprang up conversations and stood to leave.

"I'm hungry. I'm tired." Teddy complained beside Harry. He looked down, as if only just remembering his godson were there. Apart from the two emotions he'd expressed he looked unaffected by the gravity of the events that had taken place; he rubbed his eyes gently and drooped his head back against Malfoy's arm.

"Well, Ted, I've got some people I need to talk to. Why doesn't Draco take you home and I'll see you later?" Harry said, offering the young boy a smile and a gentle stroke of his hair. He didn't even realise the way he'd called Malfoy by his first name until long after he'd finished speaking – it now seemed natural… when talking to Teddy at least.

Teddy nodded, and buried himself further back into the crook of Malfoy's arm. Malfoy stood, picking Teddy up with him and curling the young boy around his side.

"The wards will let you in, I haven't altered them since you returned from France." Harry said as he stood himself.

"Thank you…" Malfoy said softly, taking a long, meaningful look at Harry as he did so. Harry shivered under the gaze; somehow, he knew the thanks was for much more than allowing the wards of his home to accept him.

"Your welcome," Harry replied, hoping his tone conveyed that he had understood the thanks Malfoy had offered in his words. Now, of course, wasn't the time to talk about it.

Malfoy nodded and, with a faint pop, the pair was gone.

Harry sighed, a long, drawn out sound, and turned toward the crowd in search of the Weasleys.

Harry apparated directly into the sitting room of Number 12 and sank down into the nearest sofa, rubbing his eyes tiredly. It had been a long day to say the least. After saying goodbye to Teddy and Malfoy he had found the Weasley's, talked with Hermione and Ron and – although he sensed the offer came with some reluctance – been invited to the Burrow for tea. He had spent the rest of the afternoon talking quietly with Arthur about life at the Ministry, with Ron about how things were going at the Auror office and Harry's upcoming return to work, and with both his friends about their eagerly awaited arrival. He also spent the afternoon ignoring the way Mrs Weasley eyed him with a mixture of worry and sadness and the way both Bill and Fleur eyed him with firm distrust.

Realising the house was very quiet; Harry pulled himself up off the sofa and worked at the buttons of his dress robes. He hated being so constrained, so formal, and was relieved when the buttons gave way and the robes fell to the sofa behind, leaving him in a simple white shirt and black trousers. He took the stairs quietly, heading toward Teddy's room. When he reached it the door was slightly ajar and the light from the room spilled out, bathing a tiny section of the corridor in a soft, golden light. Harry hung back, listening. He was aware eavesdropping was becoming a habit of his - but it was his home, after all.

He listened as Malfoy told a story that sounded somehow familiar, yet Harry couldn't place. It wasn't in one of the books he had for Teddy, that much he knew. He crept closer as Malfoy's voice spilled out into the corridor, taking the opportunity to peer around the door. The backs of both the rooms occupants were to him, both sitting on Teddy's bed. There was no book in Malfoy's hands, instead his hand gripped his wand which he flicked as he spoke, casting shadows of characters across the wall to match the tale he told.

Figures of witches and wizards and elves danced across the wall and Teddy giggled in delight as Malfoy affected the voices of each character. Harry found himself listening, equally captivated.

"That's the end, Ted, time for bed now." Malfoy said as he dropped the dancing shadows from his wand, clearing the final image of an embraced witch and wizard beside a cheering elf. Another flick of his wand pulled back the covers of Teddy's bed and the young boy obediently scrambled beneath them.

"Why don't some of Uncle Harry's friends like you?" Teddy asked sleepily as he cuddled up under the covers, clearly unaware of the impact of his question. Harry watched as Malfoy's shoulders stiffened, his wand seeming to wobble slightly in his grasp; he also watched the way he quickly composed himself, pocketing the wand and reaching out to smooth the covers down around Teddy. Years of practise, Harry knew.

"I… I wasn't always a good guy, Ted." Malfoy began, his words carefully chosen yet gently delivered. "I made some bad choices. Your grannie could forgive me but some people can't."

Harry tried to see Teddy's face as he digested this piece of news but it was hidden by Malfoy's figure.

"Uncle Harry forgives you." Came Teddy's reply; and even though Harry hadn't said such words himself, he knew it was the truth.

"I hope he does…" Malfoy whispered, so softly that Harry barely heard him. "But as long as I've got you, Ted, I'll be ok. Goodnight." He said, bending to kiss Teddy's forehead.

"G'night…" Teddy mumbled sleepily in response and it was only when Harry was able to see his peaceful face that he realised Malfoy was moving toward the door and Harry was about to be caught in the act. He froze, knowing he had nowhere to go. He couldn't run, that would be obvious and the noise of apparition would give him away too. He had no choice but to stand as if he had every right to be there, listening in.

Harry tried to remind himself he did; it was his house.

But that conversation had been far too personal for Harry to hear.

As he had learnt to read Malfoy's emotions in the split seconds before they were controlled, Harry saw the surprise as he opened the door to find him standing there.

"That was a lovely story." Harry said, hoping to divert the attention from the conversation that followed it.

"Thank you… My mother used to tell it to me, when I was young." As Malfoy spoke of his mother a small, wistful smile crossed his lips, clearly visiting a fond memory. Harry's own memories of Narcissa came to mind; not the tall, cold, woman he'd often seen waiting to greet Malfoy from the Hogwarts express, but the shaken, lost soul he'd seen in the forest as the battle hung on a pinpoint, pleading for news of her sons safety. That was the Narcissa that, since Malfoy's sudden inclusion in his life, Harry preferred to remember. He had a feeling that if Andromeda had found it in her heart to forgive her sister, that it must be the Narcissa she wanted to see, too and that was good enough for Harry.

"A drink?" Harry asked, nodding toward the staircase. "Something stronger than tea?" He added, a necessary after thought for the day they had both experienced. Malfoy nodded his agreement to both comments and the pair made their way to the sitting room. Once there Harry approached an old, wooden cupboard and took out two crystal tumblers which were older than anything Harry had ever touched before and would no doubt have Walburga Black's portrait screaming profanities if she could see him holding them.

"Firewhiskey?" He offered, eyeing the contents of the cabinet. Once again Malfoy only nodded and Harry poured two generous glasses, offering one to Malfoy before he took a seat, leaving the bottle on the table between them.

The only sounds in the room were the gentle clink of glass against teeth, the audible gulps as liquid slicked throats and, of course, the gentle hum of magic which seemed to wrap around the old wizarding house.

"I suppose I should say thank you."

A small, sideway glance at Malfoy told Harry that this declaration, although perhaps somewhat limited in the elegance and gratitude of its words, had taken Malfoy a lot of courage. His pale, long fingers were wrapped tightly around the now empty glass Harry had handed him and his brow was furrowed ever so slightly, betraying just a little of the determined expression he clearly desired to hide.

Harry offered Malfoy the curtsey of looking away, allowing him the space to control his emotions, yet ended his generosity there. He recalled, with a burning feeling in his chest, suspiciously close to his heart, the way Malfoy had looked at him at the funeral, when he had said thank you behind the pretence of thanking him for allowing him through the wards. Harry had suspected then the thanks meant more. Now, he would do more than suspect. He wanted – needed – to know more. He needed to hear the words he knew – or, at least, very strongly believed – hid behind the blonde's announcement. "About?" He asked, taking great care to keep his voice soft and level; clearly expecting an answer, but not appearing threatening.

"Today," Malfoy continued almost instantly, taking Harry a little by surprise. He'd expected a pause, a chance for Malfoy to gather his thoughts. "You didn't need to do what you did. I'm aware of how many… Well, I'm aware the Malfoy name isn't what it once was." As Malfoy paused there, Harry allowed himself a glance at the wizard he sat beside. A few years ago he would have thought that Malfoy would have looked disgusted by this, affronted by having his name and reputation in the dirt. Now he looked… Harry couldn't quite place it, but the steel in Malfoy's eyes unnerved him. He looked away as quickly as he had looked.

Then he suddenly became aware that Malfoy would be waiting for an answer. He failed uselessly to conjure any words, thrown off by the look he'd caught in those grey eyes. He made the motion of drinking from his glass, stretching out the time he had to reply.

"It needed to be said." Harry responded after the liquid had ceased burning his throat, as if its presence there had released the grasp his nerves had around his vocal cords. As the room fell silent Harry dared to lift his gaze again, this time finding Malfoy staring straight back at him. Their gaze held and unspoken words flitted between them; understanding, unity, peace.

Malfoy was the first to look away.

Yet, he was the first to speak again.

"Speaking of… words that need to be said," he began, appearing very interested in the rim of his whisky glass. "As you have seen today, the Malfoy name holds nothing but ill-will. I do not want Teddy to think of me alongside such a name…"

He trailed off, clearly considering how to pose his question. When he had looked away, Harry hadn't. The side profile he'd been granted showed the left side of Malfoy's face, where Harry could see a vein pulsing against the pale skin of his forehead before it disappeared under his even paler hair. As Harry watched, he decided to save him the pain.

"You want me to call you Draco." He said. It wasn't a question, nor was it a guess. It was a statement.

"Yes, Potter, I would prefer it." Malfoy nodded. "For Teddy."

The pause between Malfoy's – or, should that be, Draco's – statement and his last told Harry that Teddy wasn't the only person the change of name was for. Harry nodded his agreement, allowing an edge of merriment to skim his gaze, glittering in his eyes as he latched onto the irony in Draco's words.

"Only if you call me Harry," he proposed in response, trying not to give away the smirk he held as he added "For Teddy, of course."