The dreaded day had finally come, Harry realised as he walked into the Auror Department on Monday morning. The alert was printed on bright yellow paper and hung up in the staff lounge, which was where Harry and his peers came every morning for a quick cup of tea before training, and was very hard to miss. Poisons and Antidotes training was starting that day, and Harry couldn't have been caught more off guard. He'd never been good at Potions, and from what he'd learned from Tonks about her time in Auror training, he would be doing quite a lot of brewing. The only thing that helped him to feel less dismal about the next six months was that he wouldn't have to deal with Snape being his trainer. Then again, if dealing with Snape as his trainer could somehow bring the fallen hero-in-disguise back from the dead, Harry thought he'd be glad to deal with him. Or tolerate him, at least.
Sighing, Harry filled a paper cup with tea from the large carafe near the ice box and added a bit of sugar. Taking a sip, he sighed yet again and took up the sugar once more to add a bit extra. He could never make it sweet enough on the first try, no matter how hard he tried. The tea helped ease the guilt he'd dredged up with thoughts of Snape, but it didn't help him cheer up about training. As much as Harry wanted to be an Auror, sometimes it seemed life disagreed with his aspirations.
"Morning, Harry," Dean said as he came strolling happily into the staff lounge. He took a paper cup from the nearby stack and began fixing his tea. "Long night? You don't look too pleased this morning."
"Did you see the notice?" Harry asked dryly. Dean frowned and crossed the room to read the yellow paper.
"Huh. What's so bad about that? I'm about sick to death of Stealth training. It's time for a change, I think," Dean said with his quirky grin.
"I guess I'm just not excited about spending six months in front of a cauldron," Harry confessed.
"You won't be. It's Poisons and Antidotes, so we'll have to be able to identify poisons and their antidotes," Dean said, as if it should've been obvious. "So, along with standing in front of a cauldron you'll be using that sniffer of yours to figure out what antidote we'll brew."
"How is that supposed to make me feel better?"
"It's not," he replied honestly, smiling again. "Just correcting you is all." Dean took on a more serious expression for a moment and touched Harry's shoulder. "You've got nothing to worry about, Harry. Nobody's going to try and poison you in class." Harry rolled his eyes and shrugged Dean's hand off.
"I'm not afraid of being poisoned, I'm afraid of brewing without Hermione leaning over my shoulder whispering the next steps in my ear so I don't blow everything up." Harry paused when he realised the hidden meaning in his words that had Dean smirking like a madman again. "Oh, come on, that's not what I meant."
"I had you pegged for a guy who prefered Draco whispering in your ear so that you could blow everything up," Dean teased. "Or at least, blow your load."
"Can we please not talk about my load? Or blowing it? Or blowing in general? Or… Can we just change the subject?" Harry's face had turned a horrible shade of red and he didn't want to keep looking that way as the other trainees filed into work.
"Sure thing, Harry," Dean said with a suppressed grin.
As it turned out, he wasn't very bad at brewing when he didn't have a grumpy, bat-like bugger breathing down his neck and insulting his every stirring rod motion and slicing technique. His trainer for this portion of the course was Elena Phoul, but she requested that the trainees call her Elena, and Harry couldn't blame her for it. She was incredibly pleasant and had a strangely Hermione-like attitude towards brewing. That is, if Hermione had more patience. Her demeanor was at odds with her surname, however, and he felt she should've been Elena Nicely, or something more to that tune. It was comforting to Harry to have a trainer who was so like one of his best friends, and it helped him get through his first day with not much struggle at all. Rather than being belittled for his lack of finesse with a blade or stirring rod, Harry was corrected and advised. This turned out to be a much more efficient teaching method, in Harry's opinion.
By the end of his first day of Poisons and Antidotes, Harry had a new understanding of brewing. All in all, it wasn't very different from cooking. Not that he was very good at that, either, but if he thought back to the days where he had tried to please the Dursleys by cooking their meals properly— the days when he had a favour to ask— he found he was more focussed on the task of brewing.
When he got home he realised he hadn't yet mentioned his new knowledge of LGBT hardships to Draco, or discussed his plan to take magical Britain by the throat and demand change. Teddy was in his highchair when Harry stepped out of the Floo, and Draco was feeding him, as was typical of them when he arrived home.
"How was work?" Draco asked as he used the miniature, rubber spoon to clean a dribble of squash from Teddy's chin.
"Actually, it was really good." Harry sat down next to Draco at the table and took his boots off, sighing as his feet were finally able to stretch out on the cool stone floor. "My feet hurt from standing in one place most of the day, but other than that I have no complaints."
"You stood in one place? How'd you manage to dodge anything that way?"
"Oh, we're done with that part of training, finally. Never thought I'd be glad to start this segment, but we're on to Poisons and Antidotes. We'll be getting our final assessments for Stealth next week."
"Hopefully Dawlish' biases don't cause you to have to redo that portion," Draco grumbled. Harry hadn't even thought of that, but at this point he couldn't really care. If Kingsley had anything to say about it, Harry would pass his Stealth training, regardless of what Dawlish had to say.
"Can I ask you about something?" Harry was determined to get this out of the way. He felt he'd wasted a lot of time already, having waited this long to talk to Draco about his plans.
"If I said no, would it actually prevent you from asking?" Draco drawled with a smirk.
"Dah!" Teddy yelled. Apparently Draco had taken too long giving him his next spoonful, because he then proceeded to slam his fists on the plastic tray repeatedly.
"My apologies, Teddy," Draco said sarcastically. "I didn't realise I'd starved you so. What do you want to ask, Harry?"
"I want your advice on how I should go about starting to change the laws," Harry explained. "After the research I've done, I can't stand by and let things go as they are."
"Ah, I see." Draco pursed his lips and continued to feed Teddy for a moment before replying. "I'd say that a public speech would do well to start you off. Chances are, if you announce that you're making a speech the people with hoard to you like maggots on a carcass." Harry grimaced at the mental image that went along with Draco's metaphor, but had to admit it was an accurate one.
"That's disgusting."
"Am I wrong?"
"Well… no, but still." Harry shuddered as he shook the thought out of his head that he was the carcass. "A public speech, then? Who would I talk to about setting one up?"
"Hermione would be a good person to ask about that. You remember STINK, don't you? That house elf thing she was always whinging about in school."
"Er… do you mean SPEW?" Harry chuckled. "And yes, I do. Do you think she'd really know what to do?"
"Does she ever not know what to do?" he snarked. "I'm sure that if she doesn't know, she won't be afraid to find out. That woman has more motivation than anyone I've ever met."
Harry had to agree with that. Not wanting to wait any longer, Harry tossed some Floo powder into the hearth and connected himself to the Burrow. If luck was on his side, Hermione would still be there for another day or so.
"Harry," Molly smiled pleasantly. "What can I do for you, dear?"
"Erm, well I was wondering if I could talk to Hermione. She's still there, isn't she?"
"Yes, she is. I'll just go and get her. Oh, aren't you just so happy for them?" Harry didn't need to ask to know she was referring to Hermione and Ron's engagement. "It's been a long time coming, if you ask me. I only wish they'd waited to get engaged until she's done with school. Ah, well," she said, not letting Harry get a word in edgewise. "Such is the way of young lovers, isn't it?" Her head disappeared from the flames before Harry could respond, and was replaced shortly by Hermione's.
"Harry, is everything alright?" she asked softly.
"Yeah, everything's fine. Well, I'm fine, that is. Not everything is fine. Far from fine, actually." Hermione's face became rather confused looking as he rambled on.
"What's going on?"
"Are you familiar with the laws restricting gay, lesbian, and transgendered people?" Harry asked tentatively, unsure now if he should be asking her about this.
"Not all of them, but I'm aware of the fact that they're not allowed to marry. Have you and Draco changed your minds after all?"
"No! No, not…" He'd been about to say 'yet,' but he didn't know that Draco would ever change his mind on the matter. "No. I've been doing research on hate crimes and laws in the LGBT community. Mostly the magical community, and well… I want to change the laws. Or, I'd like to try, at least. Draco suggested I do a public speech to start off, but I'm not sure how to go about it. He said I should ask you."
"Draco suggested you talk to me?" She sounded flattered, and yet still confused. "Why me?"
"Because you've got more motivation than anyone he's ever met, says he."
"He said that? About me?" Hermione slowly began to smile widely. "Well I'll be damned. I never thought I'd see the day when he had a complimentary thing to say about me."
"I can hear you, you know," Draco muttered from the kitchen table, too quiet for Hermione to catch.
"He can hear you, you know," Harry repeated. Hermione's cheeks became a deeper shade of green in the flames.
"Alright, down to business, then, hmm?" She took on a contemplative expression before a lightbulb seemed to go off in her head. "A public speech. In Diagon Alley, or Hogsmeade? Which would you feel more comfortable with?"
"Er… probably Hogsmeade, just because there's more room for everyone to crowd in," he said after a brief pause for consideration.
"Alright, then I think it would be best to notify the public by way of interview. That way you can get everyone informed of the event in one go. Oh, and you should talk to one of the shop keeps. Ask if they're alright with you using their storefront as a 'venue,' and tell them it'll give them more publicity due to the photographs. You know how everyone loves to shop at places you've been to. I'll talk to George and see if he and Ron can't work together and build a stage of some sort. And don't worry about bodyguard personnel, I've got a few people who owe me favours…"
Hermione went on and on with her scheming and planning, giving Harry order after order, even going so far as to tell him what he should and shouldn't wear to the speech. It was a no brainer to him not to have the interview with Skeeter, but Hermione made a firm point of telling him exactly why that was a horrible idea. He already knew who he wanted to give the interview to anyway: Cole Camberwell. He'd done an excellent job with the interview outside of the Ministry Christmas party, and the following news report had certainly helped his career get the jump start he'd wanted for it. Harry couldn't think of someone he'd want to do it more than him.
"Alright," Hermione said with a satisfied slant of her mouth. "Let me know when you've got the interview out of the way and in the meantime I'll start putting together a bullet point list of topics you'll have to cover during the speech itself. When are you thinking of doing the speech?"
"At the weekend, probably a couple weeks from now. I can't take off work for something like this, sadly, or I'd do it during the week."
"That's sensible of you, Harry. You can Floo McGonagall's office after class hours if you need to chat with me again between now and then. I'm there constantly as it is."
"You and McGonagall are getting chummy then?" Harry asked out of curiosity.
"Inevitably, yes. At the start of term I asked if I could shadow her job as Headmistress. Madame Maxime wrote to me at the start of term asking if I'd be interested in taking the position as Deputy Headmistress at Beauxbatons when she retires next year, so I'm trying to familiarise myself with all that will entail." Hermione sounded equal parts nervous and excited about this prospect and Harry couldn't help be happy for her as well.`
"That's going to be interesting. Is Ron thinking of transferring to the French Aurors division then?"
"Oh… We haven't actually talked about what it'll mean for us if I'm in France while he's in Auror training. There's a lot to discuss," she said evasively.
"Well I wish you luck in that, then. You two aren't, er, having troubles, are you?"
"Heavens, no. You'd be the first to hear of it, I'm sure, if that were the case. No, we just have a lot to figure out at this point. Everything's fine though." If Hermione said everything was fine then it probably was and Harry trusted her judgement.
They said their goodbyes and Harry immediately went upstairs to write to Cole, leaving Draco and Teddy with forehead kisses on his way. Cole's reply came before Harry went to bed that night and his anticipation and gratefulness was tangible in the way he responded with exclamation points. Harry grinned as he sent a reply with the date he had in mind for the interview and woke up the next morning to another letter with Colin's approval. The following weekend Harry would have his interview to inform the public of his impending speech.
"I just put Teddy down," Draco said as he entered the bedroom that night in just his boxers. He came to stand behind Harry at his writing desk as he wrote his letter to Cole and leaned over his shoulder to read. His minty breath tickled Harry's cheek, causing the hairs to raise there.
"Yeah? Thanks, I'd have helped, but…" He trailed off as he finished writing his last sentence, signed the letter, and set it aside to dry. Turning around in his chair he was met with the nearly eye-level bulge in Draco's pants. "Oh! I see," Harry laughed.
"It's been a while," Draco said, drawing Harry's eyes up to his face rather than his already hardening cock, "And I thought maybe a good shag would help me get over my nerves about tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Harry asked. He was distracted by the casual way Draco was asking to fuck him and couldn't for the life of him recall what was meant to happen tomorrow.
"Merlin, Harry, are you suffering memory loss? My meeting in the park." Harry stared blankly. "My mother? It's Tuesday tomorrow, Harry, remember?"
"Right! Your mother. I completely forgot, sorry." He felt his cheeks heating. How could he have forgotten something so important? "I'm an arse, aren't I?"
"Absolutely, now why don't you make it up to me?" Draco pulled Harry out of his chair almost forcefully and directed him toward the bed.
"Those nerves must really be getting to you, you brute," Harry joked as he pulled his clothes off as quickly as he could. "What would your mother think of you pushing me around like that?"
"Can we please not continue mentioning her? I'm losing my hard-on," Draco half-snapped, half-laughed.
Once his shirt was over his head, Harry was presented with the most lovely picture of Draco sprawled naked on their bed, already stroking himself as he waited for Harry to join him. For a moment Harry just stood there, mesmerised by the strong lines of Draco's body. They'd only had sex a handful of times, and it wasn't very often they both had the time to get completely naked for it, so seeing Draco like this was the equivalent to getting a promotion at work, Harry thought.
"Are you just going to stand there and watch, or are you going to help me out?" Draco asked, his voice sounding a bit huskier than usual. "If I'd known I'd be doing this on my own I would've finished the job in the shower."
"You wanked in the shower?" Harry asked, his eyes drawn to the way Draco's hand moved up and down slowly between his thighs.
"Doesn't everybody?"
"I don't know," Harry said distractedly as he pulled his pants off and climbed into bed with his lover. "But you shouldn't be stingy with shower invitations, in that case." He climbed over Draco and straddled him, leaning down to hungrily suck the pale skin over his collarbone.
"I'm a highly sought after individual, Potter. You'll have to wait in the queue with everyone else," Draco sneered. Or he would've sneered, if he'd had the ability to. His words came out sounding more breathy and staggered than haughty and rude.
Harry knew for a fact that the spot he was sucking and nipping in particular tended to render Draco speechless. In fact, he was sort of impressed that Draco could form a proper sentence. He decided he wasn't trying hard enough if Draco could still talk of his own self-importance during foreplay. So, in an effort to accomplish his goal of making a gibberish speaking, unintelligible mess of Draco, he rolled his hips forward and the two groaned in unison as their erections met with pleasant friction. He left a trail of damp kisses along Draco's throat as he made his way up to those slightly parted, pink lips to give them attention too.
"If I didn't know any better," Draco panted as they continued to thrust against each other, "I'd think you were trying to shut me up." Harry sat up momentarily, took his wand from the nightstand, and summoned the avocado oil from the kitchen. He slicked his hand with a generous amount and distributed it from there to both their increasingly impatient erections, making sure to spend a bit of extra time focusing on the response Draco gave when he applied the oil.
"Not at all, Malfoy, but it is a nice added benefit," Harry said gruffly as he adjusted his position above Draco.
"You're such a prick, an absolute—" But he was cut off from his string of half-arsed insults as Harry lined himself up with Draco's entrance and began adding slow, steady pressure.
Pacing the kitchen while Teddy ate cereal in his high chair, Draco could not prevent his mind from obsessing over where in the fuck Harry was. It was already five in the afternoon and he'd agreed to meet his mother by half-past. If Harry didn't show up within the next fifteen minutes Draco would be walking with Teddy to the park on his own and Harry would be getting no morning blowjobs for the rest of the month. The Floo burst to life suddenly and Draco swung around to see Harry stepping out of the fireplace.
"Sorry I'm late," he said as he rushed over to kiss Draco's stiff mouth and then to the refrigerator to find what Draco hoped would be a quick snack.
"You should be, I've only been waiting for an hour. I thought this instructor of yours was more lenient with hours," Draco complained, though he did feel immensely better now that Harry was there.
"She is, but in my hurry to get out of there I dropped a pint of troll saliva on the way to the ingredients cupboard. You have no idea how hard that shit is to clean up," Harry muttered as he poured himself a glass of orange juice and then grabbed a bag of crisps from the pantry.
"You'd better eat quickly, we need to leave in fifteen." Draco went to get Teddy out of his chair and give his face a wipe-down before he had to get him dressed for the chilly outdoors.
"D'you need help with him?" Harry asked through a mouthful of Walkers cheese and onion.
"No, just eat and change out of those dreadful robes." Harry frowned down at his clothing and then a look of understanding crossed his features. It wasn't the first time Harry had worn his protective brewing robes home from work, and it wouldn't be the last, but Draco didn't have to like the ghastly puke coloured things.
As the three of them left Grimmauld Place and headed toward the park of Narcissa's choosing Draco's heart began beating frantically in his chest. His lips were drawn in a tight line and he clutched Teddy a bit too close to him as he sat on Draco's hip.
Harry seemed to notice because, as the park came into view, he asked, "Are you going to be alright?" Draco swallowed his snappish automatic response and reminded himself that it wasn't Harry he should be taking his emotions out on.
"I'll be fine." And he would, he thought, so long as his mother actually kept true to her word and met him at the empty park. He was thankful the park was uninhabited and he knew he was early, but the fact that his mother was always early for things as well made him concerned at her lack of presence.
"Oh, they have a small playground," Harry noted happily. "Let's see if Teddy likes to swing in the big leagues." Without protest from Draco, Harry took Teddy and they jogged ahead toward the metal contraption near the centre of the park. It had ropes of chain connected to strangely shaped pieces of rubber material and Draco had never seen anything like it before.
"What are these things?" he asked, catching up with them.
"It's a swingset," Harry explained as he arranged Teddy's legs to fit into one of the… seats? Draco supposed that's what it was meant to be.
"What is is for?" Draco inspected the dirty 'swingset' and wondered if it was sanitary enough for Teddy's use.
"It's for swinging. Watch."
Harry stepped behind Teddy and began pushing him gently in the swing seat. Teddy's eyes lit up and the hair poking out from his knitted cap turned the exact shade of blue that the sky displayed for them. Squealing in joy, Teddy kicked his legs and gripped the metal chains on either side of the seat. Draco found himself smiling as he watched Harry push Teddy in the swing. He supposed some muggle contraptions were useful after all, pointless as they may seem.
"You should try it too," Harry suggested as he pointed to one of the different looking swings. There were several with flat, banana shaped rubber seats— Draco assumed that's what they were— nearby Teddy's swing. "It's easy, just pump your legs to gain momentum."
"Is this safe enough for a grown man?" Draco wondered in distaste as he edged closer to one of the swings. Harry laughed and paused in pushing Teddy to sit in one of the swings.
"It's perfectly safe. Try it."
"Alright, but you'll be paying my St. Mungo's bill should this thing break beneath me."
He ignored Harry's rolling eyes as he sat on the swing and pushed off the ground with his feet. It wasn't difficult to figure out how to make the strange… toy work. Soon enough Draco was swinging much higher than Teddy was, his back going nearly parallel with the ground and his face gazing into the cloudless sky. Without really meaning to, Draco burst out laughing as his next swing backward made his stomach drop toward the base of his spine.
"Why didn't I have one of these as a child?" Draco called over to Harry where he was still pushing a delighted Teddy. "These are probably a lot safer than those practice brooms for children; you actually have something to balance yourself with," he said as he clutched the chains firmly and swung up, up, up again. He felt more carefree than he had since he was a very young child. As much as flying on a broom truly put one in the sky, swinging was like wishing you could fly and finding out it was nearly possible. It was a promise of better things yet to come.
"Your father never would've allowed it," said his mother's disembodied voice. Draco nearly fell off the swing at its highest point at the sound of his mother's words, but regained his composure quickly. He used his feet to scrape the ground and slow himself— something that took far too long, considering how undignified he must've looked trying to get off a child's play toy for a serious conversation. "And I had no idea these existed until now," Narcissa continued softly.
Draco stood from the swing as soon as he felt he was able to without face-planting in the wood chips surrounding his feet and turned to face his mother. She was dressed in the most muggle outfit Draco had ever seen her wear and she looked absolutely stunning. Her hair was swept back into a lovely French twist and she wore fitted, pale yellow trousers and a tan peacoat over top. He'd had no idea his mother even owned muggle clothing and he never would've been able to guess how natural they'd looked on her.
"Draco," she greeted him quietly, and though it probably wouldn't have been noticeable to Harry, Draco could see that she was nervous. It was in the way her hands slightly gripped the hem of her coat sleeves, the nearly invisible lines on each side of lips. It was in the way her eyes shifted between himself, Harry, and Teddy, as though she were assessing every risk involved in meeting him here.
"Mother," Draco replied evenly, thankful his voice didn't portray his own nervousness. "Would you like to talk somewhere more private?" He motioned toward the nearby, but not too nearby, park bench sat in the middle of a gazebo.
"I'd like that, yes," she agreed.
Nodding to Harry on her way, Narcissa followed Draco to the gazebo. He waited for her to sit first, then sat down beside her, doing his best not to sit close enough that he would touch her in any way. It was a while before either of them said anything, and Draco was glad for the moment of silence which he used to collect himself.
"I wasn't sure you'd come," Narcissa said finally. "I wasn't terribly certain you'd even respond to my letter."
"I have," Draco said, pointing out the obvious. "You wanted to discuss things?"
"Most of all I wanted to apologise to you, but yes, I wanted to discuss… things, as you put it." She took his hand from the bench and held it between her own, her eyes searched his pleadingly and Draco noticed the moisture building at their rims. "I am so, so very sorry, Draco," she began. "I've been a terrible mother of late and I wish I could take it all back. I should never have behaved this way toward you. Please forgive me. Please." Narcissa was not one to beg, and yet here she was begging her son to accept her apology. How could he deny her this?
"You took me from the will," he replied, his voice shaking with the sudden buildup of anger he'd been repressing for months. "You removed my access to the vaults when I needed help most. I'd only just gotten out of Azkaban and you took away any sense of security I had. You didn't even try to see if Andromeda would allow me to stay, did you?" The accusation fell easily from his lips, which were now curled in a sneer he had usually reserved for Potter back in school. "Your own son— you left your own son with no money, no family, in a society that had never hated him as much as it did then. And you expect me to just let it go? Water under the bridge? You threatened me! You threatened Harry!"
"I know! I know…" Narcissa's tears began to fall and her lip trembled as she looked away. Draco took his hand from hers, having forgotten until that moment that she still held it. "I should never have done those things and I realise it now. Draco, I'm so sorry…"
"And so you should be," he snapped. "Even Father disagrees with the way you handled things."
"He's told me enough times." She sniffled and wiped her tears on the back of one hand. "I'm aware of my faults, of the mistakes I've made, of the things I put you through. If I could take it all back I would, but I can't. What can I do to redeem myself?"
"I'm not even sure you can," Draco admitted, feeling spiteful and wishing his mother could feel just how hurt he was. "Is my being gay really that horrible? So I prefer men to women, does that really change who I've been all my life? I've known for certain since I was sixteen years old, and had a vague idea of it since before even then. I've been the same Draco all these years until recently and the only change I've made was learning how fucked up it was, the way you and Father raised me. The thoughts you put in my head all through my childhood, all through school… You have more than this to be ashamed of, Mother, I hope you know." It wasn't until after he'd sworn that he realised he'd never done so before in his mother's presence, but he didn't have it in him to care at that precise moment. In fact, he quite liked the feeling it brought, the sense of liberation and the intensity it displayed.
"I do," she whispered. "I've made so many mistakes with you. I'm afraid I can't change those mistakes now, but please believe me when I tell you that I'm proud of who you are now. I'm proud of you, Draco."
"Since when?" he bit back at her. Her words were making it very difficult to remain angry with her, the way her mouth shook between words made Draco want to pull her into his arms and forgive every wrongdoing she'd ever committed. "Since when have you been proud of me?"
"I've been proud of you all your life, until I found out… Until I found out that you…"
"That I what? That I prefer shagging men?"
"Draco! You may be upset with me, but please do not speak so inappropriately to me! I'm still your mother. No mother wants to hear words like that come from their child's tongue."
"No son wants his mother to disown him over who he sleeps next to at night," Draco shot back. Narcissa sighed and wiped her face yet again.
"You have a point there," she sighed in defeat.
Draco, for whatever strange reason, began chuckling at his mother's easy admission. Narcissa's head shot up at his laughter, a look of shock on her pale, pointed face. And then she began laughing with him. Her light, tinkling laugh brought back so many memories between them, memories that only he shared with her. The time Draco, at six years old, had accidentally broken Lucius' prized goblin made vase during a game of chase with their crup, Socrates. Narcissa had only kneeled beside him and told him that she'd always thought 'that thing' gaudy and ridiculous, and laughed as she vanished the broken pieces. The day that Draco, at sixteen years old, had fallen prey to Bellatrix' Cruciatus Curse more times than he ever had before and Narcissa had lay in bed beside him afterward, rubbing his forehead with a cold, damp cloth. She'd sung him silly limericks about hunchbacked sailors and their scurvy teeth, giggling nervously after each one to try and lighten the mood as Draco shook with temporary nerve damage. These, and moments like these, came fluttering back into his mind, and he knew he could no longer be upset with his mother. As their laughter died, Narcissa tried once more with her apology.
"You deserve a much better mother than I could ever be," she whispered, her voice shaking again. "You deserve a mother who never would've put you through any of the things I've done to you, a mother who doesn't disown her son over trivial things… but I'm not, sadly. I do love you, Draco, and I've tried to show you that I love you in my own way all these years. I've failed you many times, I've risked your life, I've left you stranded… Merlin I'm a piece of work, aren't I?" She shook her head sadly before continuing. "If there is anything, anything at all, that I could do to enable you to forgive me, I'd do it. Just say the word, Draco, and I'll do whatever it is you require. I just want to be your mother again."
Draco was absolutely torn. On the one hand, he badly wanted to have a relationship with his mother regardless of what happened between them. He wanted to have tea with her in the afternoons like always had over summer break in school, he wanted her advice on raising Teddy, he wanted her cool composure in the face of a crisis. On the other hand, Draco wanted just as badly to walk away with his vault access and give her the cold shoulder for a while longer, just to make her fully understand what she'd done.
"Can you forgive me?" Narcissa's question interrupted Draco's indecisiveness and he came to the conclusion that his choice should fall somewhere in the middle of the two extremes he'd been considering.
"I can," he said carefully.
"But?" Narcissa supplied.
"But I need time to think over all of this. I forgive you, but I will never forget what you've done. I can't. I need time to consider where we should go from here, and I can't decide that in one meeting with you. It feels too fragile between us at the moment, like suddenly everything could fall apart and it'll go right back to where we were." He had no idea where this candour was coming from, but it was too late to shut his mouth.
"I understand fully," his mother replied with a slow nod of her head. "Of course you'll need time. I promise you that I will never in my life repeat what I've done, but it will take that time you need for you to truly believe me." Draco nodded in agreement and looked over to where Harry and Teddy were playing in a sandbox together. "You're raising your cousin with him," Narcissa commented lightly, and Draco was glad for the chance in subject.
"I am. It's… not easy," he confided. "I'm the stay-at-home guardian, so I'm with Teddy all day until Harry comes home from Auror training. It can get pretty exhausting, even if Teddy is what's considered a 'good' baby."
"He'll be walking soon and it'll only get more difficult," Narcissa said in a commiserating tone. "Be thankful that you have someone to assist you in this, even if he is gone most of the day. Your father was never very good with you as an infant. I can say with certainty that I never witnessed him playing with you in a pit of sand."
"I can't say I recall something like that ever happening," Draco agreed. "But surely he won't be walking that soon. He's only… almost a year," he finished in sudden comprehension. "Shit."
"Language, Draco, please."
"That's another thing," Draco said, pulling back their previous conversation in irritation. "I'm no longer the perfect pureblood son you always wanted. I swear, I have premarital sex, I drink, and I have muggleborn friends. If that's a problem…" he trailed off, not even registering that he'd just labelled Hermione Granger as one of his friends.
"No! I-I can accept these things, it's just strange hearing such vulgar words from you." Narcissa sighed, but seemed to be genuine. "I raised you to have good manners. I'm not used to this new you, Draco. Please understand."
"I do understand, but you need to understand that I'm not the man I used to be. I'm not going to fall back into the habit of agreeing with your every word, not calling you out on saying blood supremacist things, not taking a stand and being myself. I don't doubt it'll take some getting used to, but this is what you'll find. You can take me as I am or not take me at all." Narcissa visibly swallowed and closed her eyes momentarily before a small smile graced her lips and she opened her eyes again to look at Draco.
"I'll take you as you are, I think," she said pleasantly. "Aside from your new vocabulary I have to say I'm impressed with you, son. I never thought I'd see the day when you stood against me or your father. I had hoped," she added with a tilt of her head, "that you would long ago, during the war, but in all truth I think it would've meant the death of our entire family."
"What do you mean?" Draco had never heard his mother speak about the war since it had ended. He'd also never heard her say outrightly that she wished he'd taken the other side as opposed to the side of Voldemort.
"I mean that… before you took the Dark Mark… I had hoped that you would realise how bad things were getting, how bad things already were. I'd hoped that someone from the other side— be it Severus, Albus, Minerva, or any of them— would offer you safety. It would have meant going against your father's and my 'wishes,' but for the longest time I hoped against hope…"
"You wished I would've abandoned you and Father? For what? My own safety? My own selfishness?" Draco found himself shaking his head slowly. "You and Father had me so convinced that Voldemort—" Narcissa twitched back against the bench at Draco's use of the name, but he pressed on without pause, "—would win the war. How could I have turned against what, at the time, was logic? It would've been suicide for all of us, only it would've been my fault we'd died instead of Father's poor decision making skills."
"I know," Narcissa said calmly. "I just wanted you safe. It was a nonsensical hope, truth be told, but a mother will do, say, and hope for strange things when her child's life is at risk. I don't think I ever told you, but I lied straight to the Dark Lord's face on the night of his and Potter's final battle."
"Harry told me," Draco replied, to his mother's mild surprise.
"Yes, well… I only did it because Potter told me you were alive. A mother's love for her child knows no bounds."
"Unless he's gay," Draco pointed out. "And dating the saviour of the wizarding world."
"You're going to hold that against me for the rest of me days, aren't you?"
"Wouldn't you?" He pinned Narcissa's gaze down with his own and silently dared her to disagree. This was the woman who had kept him from one of his only sane relatives for his whole life, her simple reasoning that said relative had married the 'wrong sort.' Narcissa sniffed and turned her face away after a bit, once more observing Harry with Teddy.
"I know he loves you," she said quietly. "I've seen you two together, and I know you love him as well."
"You've seen us together? When, before now?"
"Never you mind," Narcissa evaded with a dismissive flourish of her hand. "This will be a long-term situation, will it not?"
"I certainly hope it will be," Draco said, confused. He couldn't tell if she was leading up to something or just asking questions for the sake of hearing the answers.
"The laws in place make it very difficult for the same sex to wed," she stated.
"Impossible, actually. The Ministry doesn't recognise same-sex marriages. Harry's working on changing that at the moment." Almost imperceptibly, Narcissa's flaxen eyebrows raised.
"And is that why you wear the ring?"
"Oh, that. No, it's a promise ring."
"What is the difference between a promise ring and an engagement ring?" Surprisingly, she didn't sound condescending; rather, she sounded more curious than anything.
"Intentions," Draco explained simply. "An engagement ring implies eventual marriage. A promise ring is just that, a promise. He's promised me many things, none of them unwelcome."
"He's paid your way for months, assisted you in raising your infant cousin, welcomed you into his home unquestioningly, and agreed to be your moral support in coming to hash things out with your estranged mother," she speculated. "Do you not wish to marry him?"
"I don't wish to marry anyone, Mother. You and Father always impressed upon me the importance of continuing the family through an heir, getting married to a good pureblood girl, and living the life of a proper Malfoy. Marriage, now that I don't have to do any of those things, is furthest from the top of my priorities at the moment."
"You could be one of the first same-sex marriage Britain has ever seen."
"Yes, we could, but I don't want to. Let the others get married, cheers to that, but it's not for me. I don't have any intention of following the path you laid out for me since I came into this world kicking and screaming."
"You did no such thing when you were born. You were an absolute cherub angel." Narcissa sighed, sounding wistful. "What I'm gathering is that you are refusing to marry the man who is obviously fit for you out of spite to your parents. An act of rebellion when you've already done all the rebellious things aside from that. I can see that he would gladly marry you, Draco. Does he realise the implications behind an elven crystal ring?" Draco blinked several times, not knowing the answer to her question and realising that she was correct in her accusations of rebellion. "Do you remember?"
"Some of it," Draco mumbled. "I remember the part about elven crystal being an old pureblood custom when you fancied someone, but it didn't specify whether that meant rings or other objects as well."
"I asked you to read the entire book. Had you done so, you might understand what your ring means," Narcissa said, only mildly chiding. "There is the possibility that your Potter doesn't even know what it means. Perhaps he saw that it was expensive and thought it would suit you, perhaps he did a bit of research first. You'd have to ask him about that."
"Right, right, get to the part about what my ring means, please."
"I see the patience I taught you is dwindling," she commented in jest. "Elven crystal is one of the oldest and most cherished stones in wizard society, no matter the region. It's been prized since some of the earliest magical civilizations for its ability to drive away darkness and draw in light. Some older and less practiced uses for it were sharpening the wit, calming anger, clarifying dreams, and—"
"So he thinks I'm stupid and evil?" Draco asked, unable to prevent himself. Narcissa snorted, something he'd only heard her do a few times.
"I doubt it, but who knows? As I was saying," she said with one lifted brow, "it has been used to protect and keep pure the auras of those who wear it. These uses are all relative to the way the crystal is worn. In the form of a necklace at the throat, it is meant for wit and strength of character. When placed in a crown or diadem, it is meant for clarifying dreams and protection of the mind, and so on. In the form of a ring, however, it is meant to bind and strengthen the relationship between the giver and receiver of the ring. It wasn't always used as an engagement ring, but some more wealthy purebloods did consider it tradition and would require that the suitors of their female children, or their male children in courtship, purchased or were given elven crystal rings.
"The cut of your ring in specific is meant to relieve heaviness of heart, protect against the envy of others and gossip behind your back, and allow you to let go of negative forces of the past and be productive with your personal growth. Did he give the ring to you while kneeling?"
"Er, no, he was sitting." Draco was taken aback by all of this information and he was beginning to wish he'd read the pureblood customs book his mother had requested him to.
"That has significance as well, but I'm not sure he would've looked that far into things, if he looked at all."
"What's the significance behind sitting?" Call it morbid curiosity, but Draco had to know.
"Primarily love and wishes for your success. Sitting rather than kneeling, for obvious reasons, is the one thing that leads me to believe he had no hidden intentions behind giving you this ring. Kneeling would've implied the unmissable things like marriage, bondage, joining in union, and so on."
"So basically he just wants what's best for me?"
"Simply put, yes."
Draco thought on this flood of information for a moment. If Harry had looked into pureblood customs and the history behind elven crystal, which he very well could've, then this ring meant more than Draco had originally thought. It wasn't as though Harry had hidden anything from him, really, because he'd promised, "to push you towards whatever passions you have and build you up when you can't believe in your own capability." If that didn't mean he wanted what was best for Draco, then what did? Personal growth, letting go of the past, heaviness of heart… It all fit. And the ring was meant to strengthen their relationship, wasn't it? Draco had known that immediately. He definitely had to discuss this with Harry.
"He bought me a cello, you know," he said to break the silence. "A very expensive one. It sounds beautiful."
"Of course it does, if you're the one playing it." Narcissa smiled and patted Draco's knee. "I support your decision, Draco. I'm sorry I didn't from the beginning, but I do now."
"Thank you."
"Would it be rude of me to ask to talk to Harry privately as well?"
"No, I'll go take over Teddy-duty and send him over here," Draco said as he stood from the bench. He turned to face his mother, unsure of what to say but needing to say something more. "I love you," was what came popping from his lips unbidden.
"And I love you, Draco," his mother said with a smile. She stood and stepped toward him, but Draco could see the hesitation in her eyes and her stance. He took the final step between them and wrapped his arms around her, refusing to let the tears out that stung behind his eyelids. "Thank you so much for your forgiveness. I know I don't deserve it, but I'm glad to have it either way."
Narcissa's arms tightened around Draco once before she let him go and stepped away. Draco gave her a half-smile before crossing the park and taking Harry's place in the sandbox.
"How did it go?" Harry asked as Draco sat beside him on the edge of the sandbox.
"Pretty well, considering how it could've gone. We made up, for the most part."
"I'm glad to hear that," Harry said with a smile. He leaned over and kissed Draco's cheek softly, not caring if it was inappropriate to do so while in view of Narcissa.
"She wants to talk to you, too. Probably wants to apologise for being such a horrible person."
"Oh… alright. I'll be right back, then." Draco leaned toward him and kissed him chastely, offering Harry the courage he needed to go and speak to his boyfriend's mother.
Harry contemplated whether or not he was going to talk to Narcissa for Draco's sake or for the sake of propriety. It would be incredibly rude to deny Narcissa the chance to apologise, and if Harry was being completely honest he felt he was owed an apology. Perhaps not as much ad Draco deserved one, but he had been the one to support Draco through everything his mother had put him through. Even if he and Narcissa never got along, even if they continued to hold each other at an icy distance for the remainder of their lives, he felt he'd be giving up a golden opportunity by not going to talk with her. After all, it wasn't every day you got to witness the coldest woman in Britain— aside from maybe Petunia— grovel for forgiveness. So he went and stood before her, unsure if he should sit or not until she patted the bench beside her.
"You wanted to talk with me?" he asked, wanting to keep this as short as he could. He'd heard the louder portions of Narcissa and Draco's discussion and wanted to avoid any hostility if possible.
"I did. I wanted to first apologise for the way I treated you and Draco, for causing you to have to pick up the pieces of my mistakes. I'm sorry for threatening you," Narcissa began, holding his eyes with her earnest ones. "I also want to thank you for doing just that. Thank you for being there for him while I was putting him through hell over something as stupid as who he chooses to love. Thank you for loving him in return and seeing him for who he truly is when no one else could."
It was too weird, hearing her speak so fondly to him, to hear her thank him so profusely for things he did out of desire, not out of obligation. Weird, but also incredibly past due, he thought.
"No problem," he said with a tight smile. "And you're forgiven. Just don't pull anything like that again in the future, because I can bet you every galleon in my vault that he won't be so inclined to forgive you if this does happen again." Narcissa nodded quickly, passionately, as though her life depended on agreeing with him, as if nodding her head fast enough could convince Harry he could trust her not to make such a stupid decision in the future.
"I'm so thankful that you've forgiven me, Mr. Potter," Narcissa said as she stared down at her hands. Harry felt odd seeing her bow her head in shame like this, but it was necessary that she feel ashamed of herself for what she'd done to her son. It would be even more odd if she weren't ashamed. "This will never happen again, I promise you. I can't believe I disowned him in the first place."
"Why did you?" Narcissa's head snapped up at his blunt question and her lips parted slightly as she inhaled a quiet breath.
"Why did I disown Draco?"
"Yeah, that."
"I-I… It all seems so stupid now—"
"Right, I know. It seemed pretty stupid right from the start, if you ask me. You didn't ask me, but, well… It was really stupid, what you did. I'd like to know why you felt it was necessary to threaten me and take away everything he had." Harry paused and waited for her to answer, but after several moments passed and she said nothing, he went on. "Listen, you don't have to explain anything to me, but I think it would make your apology seem much more heartfelt if you knew what exactly you're apologising for."
"I already told you why," she whispered, sounding afraid and confused.
"Right, you're sorry you threatened me, attempted to ruin both mine and Draco's lives, et cetera. You haven't explained to me, at least, why you did those things in the first place. I'd like to know." Forget not wanting to be hostile; this meeting was bringing back emotions he'd thought were long buried and disregarded, but apparently had been lingering beneath the surface this entire time.
"I thought I was losing him," Narcissa finally admitted, her eyes pinched closed and her head bowed again. "I thought I would lose him if he were open about his sexuality in a world that already wanted to demonise him so badly. Imagine the response the press would've had—"
"I don't have to imagine it; I lived it. With him. You were no help."
"I wasn't," she agreed. "I didn't know what else to do. I thought that if I could convince him that what he was doing with you was wrong I could keep him safe, protect him from the public's shame and disgust."
"Seems like you ended up just making everything worse, and in the end you did lose him for a while."
"I'm not sure I've got him back completely, but you're right. I did make everything worse. If I could go back and stop myself from writing that bloody letter…"
"All the time-turners were destroyed by the Ministry, so good luck with that one," Harry snarked.
"You have every reason to be this way with me," Narcissa said, and Harry could see the corners of her eyes beginning to moisten. "You have every right to hate me. But please don't lie to me and tell me I'm forgiven if all you plan to do is belittle and insult me."
"Have I belittled you? I've pointed out facts. I'm not sugar-coating any of it because from experience I've learned that being up-front about one's feelings tends to make life run more smoothly in the end. It hurts like a bitch, being told you've messed up, but you've got to deal with it either way. Nobody wants to go through the shame of apologising, especially when they've done something as bad as you have. The fact that you're trying to make up for what you did, if what you've said is true, is admirable, but you can't expect it to be all sugar quills and rainbows." Narcissa's nostrils flared ever so slightly at his bluntness, but when she spoke her voice was level and civil.
"I would never expect it to be that way. I never even expected Draco to forgive me, nor you, for that matter."
"And yet here we are, you're forgiven completely. Just because I'm not willing to overlook the things you've done doesn't mean I don't forgive you. It does mean that I don't trust you and I'm wary of the things you do."
"Again, you have every reason to feel that way," Narcissa stated calmly, her stony composure still in place. "I want you to know that I'm in support of what you're doing. With the laws, I mean, but also when it comes to the changes I can see in Draco. He's grown up, he's no longer the boy I raised."
"Thank Circ for that," Harry muttered, a bit louder than he'd intended, especially considering he hadn't meant to say it at all.
"The changes he's gone through are due in part to your influence in his life," Narcissa continued, overlooking his slight toward her parenting skills. "I don't think he would've been able to grow into himself without your influence."
"You're underestimating him. He would've done just fine without me, but I can say that it probably would've taken him loads longer to go through these changes if he didn't have someone there to force him to take a better look at himself." Harry thought for a moment before he said, "But he's done the same for me, I think."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. He's made me take a good look at who I am, too. I think we've both evolved more quickly for being together. It's definitely not one-sided."
"That you can see this is rather impressive, Mr. Potter."
"Good god, just call me Harry. Sounds weird being called Mr. Potter by anyone who's not my boss."
"Alright, Harry… If you'd like to, you may call me Narcissa. I'd have to agree with you, though. I do think Draco has affected you positively."
"That's usually how relationships go, right? I know Ron would still chew with his mouth wide open, chatting away and letting crumbs fall all over the place if it weren't for Hermione. And she probably wouldn't understand a single punchline in a joke if it weren't for Ron."
"Yes, well, eating habits and comedy aside, I believe that you and Draco have assisted each other on a more spiritual level. From what I've witnessed you two seem to be bound to each other in more than just a physical sense."
"What do you mean, exactly?" Harry asked slowly.
"How well did you research the ring you gave him?" At her question, her simple, easy-to-answer question, Harry's cheeks lit up as bright as a Weasley family portrait.
"Why do you ask?" he stalled.
"You know exactly why I'm asking. Do you understand what it means? Do you know what the cut of the ring signifies, or the way that it was given? Do you know what uses and meanings elven crystal has?"
"I may have done a bit of research," Harry mumbled, wishing he'd been a little bit less sappy about Draco's most expensive and meaningful Christmas present.
"As I thought. That's probably an understatement, isn't it?"
"Probably," Harry agreed, his cheeks remaining as red as they'd been since her first inquiry about the ring.
"Draco didn't know."
"But I already told him what it meant, I gave him the promises—"
"Do you intend to marry him one day?"
"Draco doesn't want to get married and I respect his decision."
"Let me rephrase. Do you want to marry Draco?"
"I… It's too soon to discuss marriage. We haven't even been dating that long. It's a bit weird, being asked if I want to marry him, don't you think? And how am I to know that everything I say won't get right back to him?"
"Wise of you," Narcissa commented with what could've been a proud smile, if Harry was seeing things correctly and not hallucinating. "I believe you do intend to marry him one day. I believe that you're simply beating around the proverbial bush about it. Please know that, at this point, I would not be against such a union."
"You're meddling and it's really not something you have the right to do at the moment," Harry said. His tone almost suggested irritation but he hoped that Narcissa caught the sly glint in his eye. "Why are you so concerned about marriage? What does it matter to you?"
"Maybe it doesn't matter to me. Perhaps I'm just stating the obvious, what I'm seeing presented before me."
"You're pretty manipulative, you know that?" Apparently he wasn't above being rude to Draco's mum, just as he was apparently not against getting somewhat snippy with her. It was rude and he knew it, but he couldn't find it in himself to care for various reasons.
"I wasn't placed in the House of Slytherin for no reason, Harry Potter," Narcissa said with a cunning grin. "But this is simply your perception of me at the moment. Who knows? In time your perception could change."
"You'd know all about perception changes, wouldn't you? Why did you decide to change your mind about Draco and I, anyway?" Narcissa appeared to think on this question for a moment before linking her fingers together and knocking them against her knees several times. Harry thought he recognised this as a nervous habit, but for Narcissa it could just mean she was losing patience.
"I wasn't going to tell either of you this," she began, speaking to her lap. "If I don't, I'm sure it will plague me with guilt for the rest of my days, and I think you deserve to know." Harry was already not liking the sounds of this, but kept silent as she went on. "I had planned to exact my revenge on you for 'taking my son from me,' as you're well aware. You had no idea, and how could you, that I was there at the Ministry Christmas do."
"But we didn't see you there," Harry said, his brows furrowed in confusion as he tried to accurately recall the Christmas party.
"I think you'll find that you did see me there. Do you remember a woman with golden spectacles?" Harry thought hard about her only clue, which was rather vague.
"Oh! But… that was someone else," he told her, wondering why she was bringing up some random Ministry party guest.
"It wasn't."
"That would mean you—" And suddenly it dawned on Harry that she must've used some sort of glamour or— "It was Polyjuice, wasn't it? You used Polyjuice to disguise yourself so we wouldn't know it was you! I kept wondering why that woman was always right there whenever something would happen between Draco and I and the other guests… It was you."
"It was. I had originally planned to poison you that night, but after I witnessed how much you truly cared for Draco I couldn't bring myself to do it. I saw that you really did love him and were willing to stand up for him, protect him from people he would be forced to cooperate with under any other circumstances, and to respect his boundaries when he felt uncomfortable. I saw how you respected him and I saw how much he'd changed from a young boy to a young man."
"Wait, wait, hold on… You were going to poison me? As in, to kill me?" Hadn't he told Dean the other day that he wasn't scared of being poisoned? Maybe he'd been over-confident in that aspect… "What the fuck?"
"I'm sorry, Harry," Narcissa began, but Harry wasn't finished.
"You apologised already, but you just happened to leave out the part where you tried to kill me?!"
"I didn't go through with it!" she defended herself adamantly.
"As if that makes things any better! Obviously you didn't, or I'd likely be dead by now, wouldn't I? You went so far as to sneak into an invite-only Ministry do and disguise yourself as someone we wouldn't recognise— in the buffet line, near the champagne. That's when you were going to do it, weren't you? I saw you there, you were standing right behind us… You could've fucking killed me!"
"I had planned to, yes, but I couldn't do it. I couldn't bring myself to take away the source of Draco's happiness."
"Right, because the moral compass you keep didn't happen to tell you that killing people is wrong, you just wanted your son to be happy. Well thank fuck for that," he snipped sarcastically. "So, what, next time Draco and I argue you'll go right back to wanting to kill me? What if he decides he doesn't want to be with me anymore? Will you kill me then?"
"No, Harry," Narcissa sighed in a long-suffering way. Harry felt he should be the one with the long-suffering sighs after what she'd just told him. "I don't want to kill anyone. I realised after I'd thought about it for a time that killing you would be ridiculous. Killing anyone for such petty reasons is ridiculous."
"Oh, but you had to think about it for a while to come to that conclusion? What is wrong with you? Why did it take you 'a time' to figure out that murder is fucked up? How does anyone not already know that?" That was one thing that had always confused Harry about the war, about Voldemort's followers. How could anyone think that what they did was right? Killing innocents never seemed like a good plan to Harry, or most people for that matter, so what imbalance in brain chemistry caused someone to not understand that?
"I grew up in a world very different from the one we live in today, Harry. I grew up being taught that anything not pureblood, anything that strayed from tradition, was abhorrent. The leniency in place for people your age now… That didn't exist in my generation. I can't explain why I felt the need to go so far in the hopes of getting my son back, but I can tell you that I regret everything I've done regarding you both in recent months."
Harry shook his head. He had no idea what to say to her at that point. She'd just admitted to planning to murder him for the sake of forcing Draco back into her little pureblood box of ideals. The fact that he was still sitting beside her on the park bench trying to understand her reasoning was suddenly pointless to Harry. He stood up and took a couple steps toward Draco and Teddy before turning around to face her one last time.
"I won't mention this to Draco," he started, and Narcissa's expression perked up immensely.
"Oh, thank you—"
"No, don't fucking thank me. I'm not doing this for you," Harry told her in a low voice, stepping forward so that she might hear him better. "I'm doing this for him. I've seen how badly you hurt him since you sent that bloody stupid letter full of threats. I've held him while he sobbed because he missed you and thought he'd never have a relationship with you again. I spent a Christmas doing everything I could to distract him from the fact that his own mother couldn't love him enough to get over herself enough to accept him as a person. I've made efforts to include him in the only family I have, tried to get the Weasleys to see who he really is, and actually succeeded, because you weren't there to be his family when everyone else he loves is either dying or in prison. Molly's been more of a mother to him than you have recently.
"But now he has you back. He has his dear, sweet, psychotic mother back, and I'll be damned if I'm the one to take that away from him. If he knew what you tried to do to me I know for a fact he'd go right back to trying to hate you and it would torture him for the rest of his life. So don't thank me and don't think for one second that I'm doing this out of kindness toward you."
Narcissa had stared at him, dumbfounded, as he went on and on. When he finished he gave her no time to reply, immediately turning around and striding toward Draco and Teddy. He did his best to put a casual smile on his face, but Draco's concerned look told him he hadn't done a very good job.
"Is everything alright?" Draco asked, looking Harry up and down as though he were looking for injuries. "I heard your voice raise, but I couldn't really tell what you were saying."
"You know me, I had to give her an earful before I accepted her apology. I couldn't just forgive her without letting her know exactly how badly she'd fucked up in the first place," Harry explained easily. It felt wrong, omitting from Draco the last part of his and Narcissa's conversation, but he had promised Narcissa he wouldn't say anything. He knew what would happen if he did tell Draco and he wasn't interested in making a freshly good situation worse than it had been previously.
"I did pretty much the same thing," Draco said with a grimace. "But I'm glad she and I are at least on speaking terms again. I'm not sure how active a part in our lives I want her to have, but I have a working relationship with her again. That's more than I ever really expected."
"Yeah, it's great that you two are talking again." He smiled once more, but he knew it wasn't a genuine smile and it seemed Draco did too, though he refrained from saying anything about it.
They waved goodbye to Narcissa before they dusted the sand off Teddy and left the park for Grimmauld Place again. All the while Harry had a sick feeling in his gut about Narcissa's final admission. He wasn't good at lying and he never had been. He felt omission was a form of lying, but he couldn't bring himself to be honest about it. Too many issues would arise and resurface if he didn't keep his mouth shut.
When he and Draco climbed into bed that night the only thing that kept Harry from blurting out his new secret was Draco's face between his thighs and then his own mouth full of Draco's cock. It's quite hard to think straight during the receiving or giving blowjob, let alone confess horrible things about your boyfriend's mother. He went to sleep that night with his secret safe, but a guilty conscience. He'd have to talk to Hermione about this, or someone, else he'd go mad.