3.

Harry didn't make it to Luna's on the day of the trial, the extended period spent in Courtroom 3 meant he had to work through lunch and tea, but when he arrived the next day, it was to an empty house. After knocking twice to no answer, he frowned but put it out of his mind for the present, resolving to send an owl to Luna in the morning.

Instead, he returned home to find Ginny sitting on the overstuffed sofa, a cup of tea balanced precariously on the arm and Quidditch Quarterly spread across her lap, a wistful expression on her face.

"Hey."

Ginny glanced up sharply, shutting the magazine with a snap. "Oh, Harry. I lost track of time, I wasn't expecting you home so early." She glanced at the window, her brow furrowing slightly. "Why are you home so early?"

He shrugged awkwardly, and Ginny's expression soured. "You're usually at Luna's with Malfoy for tea."

"And I'm here for breakfast and dinner and weekends and the rest of the time I'm not at work."

Ginny's jaw tightened at his tone, but she surprised him by changing the subject.
"I was talking to Angelina earlier today."

"Yeah?"

"She said the Magpies need an assistant trainer. I thought I should apply."

"All right."

Ginny peered at him, frowning. "It would just be mornings starting out. Running drills."

He frowned back, confused. "Okay."

"But next year, it could see me gone weekends during the season."

"So, it's a trial position?"

"Of course! It's an assistant! You don't care?"

"Care? You were always amazing at Quidditch."

"But... I won't be home. And during the season, I'll be gone. I'll never see you."

"I thought you said you wanted to work as an assistant?"

"I do!"

"Then I don't understand." He ran his hands over his face, wondering what they were even talking about.

"I thought you'd care. I thought you wanted..." Ginny's expression seemed torn between confusion and tears, and he threw his hands up in the air.

"I want you to be happy! Why is that such a surprise?"

Ginny stood and stomped out, her cup falling with a crash, leaving Harry standing, bewildered.

He didn't know why he was surprised when he heard back from Luna, telling him Malfoy had moved back home now that Bletchley was gone. It made perfect sense; it had been Malfoy's home for years, and Luna had said he wasn't going to stay with her long. But he still felt odd when he walked up the short flight of stairs to the address on Malfoy's file. It would be the first time they would be alone together, and the impending lack of Luna's calming presence weighed heavily.

The door opened as he raised his hand to knock, and he was met with Malfoy's sneer. "Do they not teach punctuality in Gryffindor School? You're late."

He stood there a moment, as Malfoy wheeled around and stalked down the hall leading further into the house. Finally he reminded himself that he'd been seeing Malfoy almost daily for weeks, he followed.

When he entered, the house was as he'd expected. Dark wood flooring, polished to a high gloss and broken by a tapestry rug in green and white ran the length of the hall before him. The walls were white, and hung with black and white landscapes, trees swaying in invisible breezes.

It felt cold and reminiscent of the Slytherin common room. He paused for a moment, watching a particular oak tree in a storm, before Malfoy's voice cut in.

"Tea and pastry delivery, right? It's what you're here for before you go on your merry way?"

He glanced down the hall, seeing Malfoy standing in an open doorway at the end of the hall, his expression closed and strained. "Er, yeah. Sorry."

He walked slowly down the hall, following Malfoy into a large kitchen. The kitchen was as different from the hall as Harry could imagine: clinical but dirty. The floor and walls were covered in white tile, while the hearth was filled with ash and soot and the table and counters covered in dirty dishes, food stains and debris.

"The self-cleaning charms wore off when the house was closed for two months, and I haven't had a chance to recast them." Malfoy's arms were crossed, and his chin raised defensively. Harry was surprised to note he was still wearing the same charcoal robes.

"Understood, er. So I'll just leave these, then?" He lifted the box slightly, glancing around for somewhere to place it.

Malfoy gave a jerk of his head, which Harry chose to take as assent, before placing the white box on the table. "So, uh, how are you?"

Malfoy stared at him a moment, before his shoulders dropped and he sighed. "Are you really going to do this? Attempt to make small talk for an hour without Luna here to coach you?"

Harry really wanted to be angry, but Malfoy sounded so worn that he couldn't summon any sense of indignation at that. "Yes. I thought the same thing to myself as I was coming up the stairs."

Malfoy blinked, his expression so surprised that Harry found himself smiling. "Sit down, I'll clear us a spot and make tea. Then we can both try to make small talk for an hour without killing anyone. And we can do the same tomorrow. In some weird way, we're going to be family, so we need to get used to it."

After a moment, Malfoy sighed. "Kettle's in that cabinet. I'll get started on this mess."

As he left the house an hour later, Harry shook his head in wonder. They'd not managed the small talk, but the hour spent cleaning Malfoy's kitchen was surprisingly comfortable, regardless.

Friday dinner at the Burrow was always a noisy affair, but the small crowd that evening felt especially raucous. Molly had broken out the sherry and she and Arthur were dancing and laughing to the wireless while Ginny and George played a drunken game using a large pile of chocolate frog cards and Harry slouched on the sofa, enjoying the overstuffed feeling of having eaten a large portion of Molly's roast.

Luna had been there for dinner, though she'd wandered off before the pudding, and Harry occasionally heard the sounds of her feet crunching in the frost-covered grass beyond the window. He'd almost started to doze when he felt someone plop down beside him and lean against his shoulder. He opened an eye and glanced over to smile sleepily at the top of Luna's blonde head.

"I'm very proud of you."

"What?" He sat up straighter, certain this was going to be one of the conversations with Luna he'd need to be fully awake for.

"I'm proud of you. You did well today."

"Oh, er. Thanks?"

"I stopped by Draco's before coming this evening. He didn't want to come with me tonight, but we spoke. He told me you'd stopped by, and I saw the kitchen."

"Ah. The self-cleaning charms failed, he said."

"They do that, yes. But you gave him some incentive to reactivate them."

There was a loud pop and some laughter from George and Ginny's corner and Harry paused before asking. "Is he... okay living there? Alone in that house, I mean?"

Luna sighed and was quiet long enough that Harry was certain she wouldn't actually answer. But he jerked back to full alertness when her soft voice carried to him. "Sometimes places are full of memory, and the question is if we're strong enough to take the memory back."

"I think he is. He survived the war."

"Yes, we all did. Though not all of us have then faced further betrayal from one we should trust. It's almost like never leaving the war behind."

"You think he can't?"

Luna smiled. "So few can rightly judge their own strength. We usually under- or over-value it."

"And which is he?"

"Which are you?"

He groaned. "Is this your way of saying you want me back in your office again?"

Luna laughed. "Why Harry, whatever would give you that idea?"

There was another loud burst of laughter from Ginny and George, and Harry just listened to it, and the sounds of Molly and Arthur's feet sliding and tapping in their dance. The fire was warm but it didn't quite reach the cold ball that had settled in his stomach. "I like my life, Luna. It's comfortable."

Luna's small fingers curled briefly against his. "You could love it. It could be happy. But only you can decide your own strength."

"You think I can't?"

"I think only you can decide that you're worth it, and that you can accomplish it. But until that point, I think you'll allow yourself to just be comfortable."

"What's wrong with comfortable, anyway?" He knew he sounded petulant and childish, but he couldn't bring himself to care.

Luna ignored his tone as she often did. "It's more that there's nothing right with it. Comfortable is worth staying in bed and doing nothing for. It's not worth getting up each day for."

Luna's words twisted in his gut, and his response was sharper than he'd intended. "And what if that's all I want? I think I deserve an occasional lie-in."

"Everyone deserves the occasional lie-in, Harry. But there is a difference between occasionally choosing to and living there."

He closed his eyes tightly; all his earlier comfort vanished entirely with her words. He wanted to yell at her, to deny her words, but they rang true in a way he couldn't ignore.

He felt her squeeze his hand once more before she brushed a kiss against his cheek. "Thank you for dinner, the roast was lovely, Molly. Would you mind if I brought a serving of the pudding to Father?"

"Of course, dear!" Molly's voice was still colored by her earlier giggles and he watched as she stepped away from Arthur to totter back toward the kitchen. Arthur continued dancing with air, arms held up and out and doing a shuffling two-step Harry was certain would have ended him stepping on Molly's toes had she still been there.

He met Arthur's eye and received a wink and a grin; he could hear Molly and Luna talking in the kitchen, their words muffled by distance and the wireless, and he felt his heart swell. Molly and Arthur, with the exception of the year after the War, and again the year after Ginny lost the baby, werehappy. There was no mistaking it, and he'd always looked on them and seen what he wanted. Love, family, happiness, a togetherness that always seemed unshakeable. The visible certainty that they would always be there, for him and for each other.

He had never had that certainty with Ginny, and cursed himself for letting that thought gain strength by acknowledging it. He turned his glare on Luna, and she simply smiled sadly at him in return. "I'll see you Tuesday, Harry. Goodnight everyone."

He gave the best smile he could in response.

He deposited the coffee on Ellie's desk with a grunt and a frown when he arrived at Luna's office Tuesday morning.

"Someone rolled out of bed on the wrong side this morning. Hello to you, too." Ellie grabbed the coffee, taking a long pull. "I should hex you for bringing me this shite, ruining my pre-Christmas diet. Luna's in there waiting for you."

Harry simply grunted again and slunk through the door. Luna was sitting on one of her poufs, eyes closed and humming quietly. "One moment, Harry, and I'll be done with my mantra."

He didn't respond, instead flopping in one of her chairs. His mood had been sour since Friday evening, he'd avoided visiting Malfoy, snapped at Ginny, and eventually spent most of his time not working holed up with a stack of Quidditch Quarterlies and a frown.

"Thank you, Harry. I was running late this morning, I like getting my meditation done before coming in, but some mornings you just can't pull yourself together."

He glanced over to where Luna was smiling at him from her position on the pouf.

"You make me think about Trelawney sitting on that thing."

"Mmm. They are quite comfortable. After climbing all those stairs and then the ladder, I don't blame her for having them."

He sighed. "So my weekend was shit, how about yours?"

"I'm sorry, Harry. You're my friend and I crossed the line." Luna's expression was genuinely remorseful as she looked up at him from the pouf. "I shouldn't have pressed, especially in a place you consider home."

"So you're not sorry for saying it, just the location and timing were wrong?"

"Of course. Your life is a mess, Harry, you're just trying to not see it."

"That doesn't even make any sense!"

"Have you been thinking about what I asked?"

The change of subject caused his thoughts to stumble to a halt. "What?"

"What do you want? What would make you happy?"

"Not having you constantly accuse me of being unhappy would make me happy."

"Harry." And Luna was sitting there on that pouf, staring at him in that earnest way she had that made him feel like he was back in Hogwarts being reprimanded by a disappointed Dumbledore. "I'm not speaking of something fleeting and right at this moment. But the feeling you have when all is well with the world; that even when there are annoyances, they don't matter because you are certain without needing to think about it, that they will all be all right. What gives you that? Because I don't think you have it; I don't think you know it."

"I..." He let his words trail off. "You're right. I don't know. You're right, okay? I want that. And you're right, I don't know how to get it."

Luna nodded. "Acknowledging that is the first step to finding it. You need to determine what's not giving it to you and go from there. Whatever that may be."

And he could tell by her expression there was more she almost said, but he was relieved when she chose not to.

It didn't take long to see that Malfoy's magic was already beginning to suffer. The first time Harry saw him washing cups by hand, he claimed he was doing it the Muggle way "to be prepared" for when his magic began to fail.

Likewise, the first failed Accio was passed off as distraction. And as Malfoy had been stomping about the kitchen in a strop about running out of vinegar when he'd cast, Harry believed him. The second Accio had been accompanied by the proper flick as opposed to an angry flail and brought a jar of olives across the counter and into Malfoy's hand without a hitch.

But one failed spell became two, and Harry saw signs of hand-cleaning more and more often.

"Malfoy, you need to talk to Sylvanus about this."

"It is fine."

"Your magic-"

"Is weaker, yes. But I wouldn't be having problems if I was paying attention. I'm used to not having to think about these things. I'll talk to Healer Sylvanus when it progresses beyond this point, but as of now I am perfectly fine and taking my potions and there's really nothing else he can tell me to do!"

"But he said to speak with him immediately."

"I'm not going to Floo his office to tell him I can't aim properly when I'm thinking about something else."

Harry sighed, rubbing his forehead. "You'll talk to him when it gets worse?"

Malfoy gave him an odd smile. "Of course."

"Hello again!" Harry had become accustomed to Mylor Sylvanus' enthusiastic greetings during the bi-weekly visits, and even Malfoy seemed to be resigned to them. "It is the big day! Are you excited?"

He let his smile grow; Malfoy had finally really begun showing, and today they would find out the sex of the baby, and he had a hard time suppressing the urge to grin like an idiot. Malfoy, on the other hand, looked pale and vaguely ill with nerves, and had been holding himself tightly since he arrived, alone, shortly after Harry.

"Come in, come in!" Mylor beckoned Draco through the door, beaming at him. Once Malfoy was inside, Mylor turned his grin on Harry. "Luna wasn't able to come?"

Harry shook his head. "She had an emergency appointment this morning."

"Ah, so sad. So sad." Mylor shook his head, his expression terribly grave for a moment. "But to think, we shall be seeing each other every week now! And such news to share with her when we find out!"

Harry smiled in return, unable to resist the cheerful enthusiasm. "I'm half certain she knows already."

Mylor laughed loudly at that. "Mind Healers learn to do that, don't they? Never act surprised and always look like they knew already!" He shook his head, still chuckling. "And how are you, Harry? Is everything going well?"

"I think I'm more excited about this than Malfoy, to be honest."

Mylor's smile gentled. "It can make many nervous, this time. Finding more about the baby, it becomes less 'part of me' and more an individual himself. It is very common to be nervous or confused. But Mr. Malfoy has good friends in you and in Luna. Everything will be well."

Harry thought of all the ways things weren't well, about Ginny, about Malfoy's magic, but Mylor's certainty was comforting. "Things will be all right," he agreed.

"So. A girl. Have you thought about names?"

There was a clatter at the counter, and Harry turned to see Malfoy clutching the sugar bowl with whitened knuckles. He took an obvious breath before turning to glare at Harry. "You'd been doing so well steering away from the sensitive topics. War, Hogwarts, Azkaban, my parents... So nice of you to break that habit now."

Harry sighed. "She's going to need a name. I just thought—"

"You just thought that that you should twist the knife a little harder and try to assuage your guilt in the most useless way possible by letting me make suggestions for names? Will it make you feel better? Should I say Druella? Bellatrix? Fine family names, those. Names you can turn down with a clear conscious. Is that what you want? So you can go home to your little wifey and tell her what an arse Malfoy is, and she can say I'm just wanting to carry on Death Eater traditions, and isn't it a good thing she made you swear that Vow?"

"Stop it."

"Too close to home? Either it's true and she does your thinking for you, or it's not and you really were all right with this. You can't have it both ways, Potter."

Harry had no idea what to say to that, but knew punching Malfoy right in the face was out. So he left.

Luna's purple door was comforting in it's familiarity when he landed on her doorstep with a pop. It only occurred to him to wonder if she was even in when he knocked.

His luck was with him, because the door opened to reveal Luna's startled face. "Harry! Are you all right?"

He stepped in when Luna pulled the door open further, gesturing him toward the kitchen. "Fine," he huffed as he plopped down in one of her kitchen chairs. "Just fine. Only it was come here or murder Malfoy."

Luna sighed and squeezed his shoulder once before putting the kettle on. "You two were doing so well."

"Yeah, well. He's an arse."

"What happened?"

"I asked him about baby names. Now that we know. And he... He lost it. Started going off about how I was just trying to help with my guilt and thought he should say Bellatrix so I could go home and tell Ginny what a horrible person he is."

"Do you think he's a horrible person?"

"I... At the minute, maybe. But no." Harry sighed, frowning at Luna's table.

"Then why did words aimed at himself upset you?"

"They didn't. He... He said I couldn't have it both ways. Either I let Gin do my thinking for me or I wanted to take his baby."

Luna was silent for a few minutes before she slid a mug of tea in front of him. "An oversimplification, perhaps."

"I do not let Ginny do my thinking!"

Luna smiled sadly. "When your decisions are all made to minimize her discomfort, you do."

He gaped at Luna. "She's my wife! She's your friend!"

"It doesn't mean I'm blind to her faults. Or to yours. Or to Draco's. He's feeling very fragile; of course he's going to lash out. This is Draco Malfoywe're speaking of. You're upset because of the level of truth in what he said."

"It's not—"

"Harry. I only ask for your honesty. The one thing Draco has always been a master of is finding the truth that you are least comfortable about yourself and using it to trigger a reaction. Otherwise you'd be able to let his words roll off your back as you are with most people."

"I—"

"It doesn't make you a bad person. It makes you human. But because you are human, you can choose to change." Luna took a large sip of her own tea. "Father will be leaving again next week for a tour of southern Australia. He's following reports of Heliopaths spotted near Adelaide. But really, I think he just wants out of the snow. It aggravates his rheumatism. He knows Heliopaths have been restricted to Tasmania since the 70s."

"That's... That's great, Luna."

The Christmas holidays passed in a blur. Rushing back and forth between home, the Burrow, Shell Cottage, and Ron and Hermione's meant breakfasts and dinners and gifts and parties. He saw Luna several times in the rounds of merriment, but he missed two of Malfoy's appointments and was running late to the first one in January. He was fairly certain everything was all right, and Luna would have told him had there been a problem.

Nevertheless, when he arrived breathless from his rush, the quiet in the room caused his stomach to clench. He glanced around, Luna had turned to look at him, and Mylor was watching him looking unusually grave. Malfoy stared straight ahead.

"All right?"

"Harry. Hello." Mylor's tone matched his expression, and Harry found himself clutching the doorway, bracing himself for bad news. "I am very disappointed in you both, Harry. When we first met, I specified that any changes to Mr. Malfoy's magic needed to be reported to me immediately."

Harry shifted uncomfortably, his gaze sliding to Malfoy. "I, er..."

"Yes." Mylor heaved a sigh. "I was hoping Mr. Malfoy would be able to make it through his second trimester before reaching this point, but I suppose we must be close enough. I am restricting him from all magic use from now out. We are too late to slow the deterioration of Mr. Malfoy's magic, but we may be able to slow the drain to his core."

The tense set of Malfoy's shoulders caused a twinge of something inside him. "How long do you think it take to recover?"

"I will not lie to you. Magical drain is a very curious thing. Depending on the severity, he could be able to handle small spells within weeks after the birth but unable to cast anything stronger than a light Accio for years. Or it may take months before he can manage that. He may recover completely within three months, or he may never find himself with the same strength. It is something still impossible to judge."

Each of Mylor's words seemed to cause something in Malfoy's posture to appear more rigid, more fragile, and Harry found himself approaching and laying an awkward hand on his shoulder. He wasn't certain what kind of comfort he could give, but he found himself asking anyway. "What can I do?"

He stood there feeling the minute trembling in Malfoy's shoulder as Luna answered. "Draco can't stay alone anymore. Too much of his house requires magic, even if just to activate the wards. I've offered to allow him to stay with me again, but—"

"I don't need charity."

"He'll stay with me- with us." He ignored Malfoy's scoff, and Luna's silently pleased look. It was going to involve a fight with Ginny, he knew that, but it was time to start thinking for himself again.

Harry was somewhat surprised that Malfoy hadn't raised more of a fuss at the thought of living with Ginny, but his first words when they landed on his doorstep with a crack explained his earlier reticence. "All right, Potter, I suppose I'll see you tomorrow for the usual pastry delivery."

"What do you mean? We're here to pack you up."

"You can't expect me to believe you're going to move me in to your little love nest with Weasley."

"I expect us to go upstairs to your room, pack up what you need to live in my house for the next several months while you can't do magic."

"Because what is best for me is being unable to do magic to defend myself from your wife while we all three play happy families?"

"You won't need magic to defend yourself from Ginny, she's not going to hex you." At Malfoy's skeptical expression, Harry offered a tentative grin. "She's much more likely to hex me. Now how can you resist that?"

"While watching you take a Bat Bogey has it's appeal, being forced to witness you explaining my presence to her still leaves me with more Weasley interaction than I want to even think about."

"Well you're just going to have to get used to it. Both of you. Now let's go get your stuff packed so I can get this over with."

Malfoy shook his head and opened the door, before leading Harry up the stairs. "This will last a week at best."

Harry followed, really noticing for the first time how Malfoy's gait had changed with the swelling of his stomach. It was slower, and at the same time both more fluid and more deliberate. Harry watched carefully, resisting the urge to hold his elbow or support him somehow, the surge of protectiveness surprising him in its intensity. Malfoy was pregnant. There was a baby, a girl, that he was carrying inside him. It felt like the moment of realization Mylor had spoken about hitting him three weeks later.

He only realized he'd stopped on the stairs when Malfoy turned at the top to look at him. "Potter? Are you coming? I can't shrink my things now, remember?"

"Yeah-" He coughed to clear his throat when his voice came out a croak. "Yeah, I'm coming."

Malfoy sighed, his expression strained. "Just remember this was your idea."

Harry could only nod in reply, unwilling to admit that it wasn't the looming confrontation with Ginny that stopped him.

When they walked in the front door an hour later, it was to the familiar smell of Molly's roast wafting from the kitchen. "That you, Harry?" Ginny's voice was loud and distracted, coming from the same direction.

"Yeah."

"Practice ran late, so I stopped by and stole some of Mum's Sunday..." Ginny's words trailed off as she came out of the kitchen and saw him standing in the entry with Malfoy and a trunk. "Harry? What is Malfoy doing in our house?"

He half wanted to punch Malfoy for the sneer he gave at that, but instead he straightened. "He's staying with us."

He watched Ginny's jaw twitch briefly. "Oh, he is?"

"Yes."

Ginny's hand clenched, and he was certain had she been holding her wand, he'd have been hexed. "Oh, really? And do I get a say in that?"

Malfoy opened his mouth, and Harry really didn't want to know what he was going to say so he simply spoke louder. "Not right now, no."

Ginny's face went white and she spun on her heel, returning to the kitchen, quickly followed by the pop of Apparation.

"Well. That was a fantastic example of how not to handle a conversation."

"Shut up, Malfoy." Harry's words were half-hearted when he tugged Malfoy's elbow to pull him further in and close the door. "Guest room is upstairs."

He started up the stairs, levitating Malfoy's trunk behind him. At the top he stopped and waited for Malfoy to catch up. "You're here on the left. Next door is bathroom, and across the hall is the nursery and our room."

"Can I... Can I see?" He was surprised by how subdued Malfoy's voice seemed as he stared at the closed door of the nursery.

"Oh, er, yeah." Leaving the trunk outside Malfoy's door, he opened the door to the nursery. "It's still blue. I mean, there's nothing wrong with blue for a girl, but..."

Harry felt self-conscious, trying to see the room from an outside perspective. It was obviously a shrine to little Jamie. Malfoy entered slowly, turning in a slow circle to take in the full scene. He walked to the crib, reaching a tentative hand out to the bright quilt, before pulling it back as if burned. He continued staring at it, and his voice was rough when he replied. "It's only really the curtains. And as you say, there's nothing wrong with a girl having blue things."

"And the clothes. The clothes we have are blue."

Malfoy's head turned toward the dresser, though he didn't move from his position beside the crib. "Ah. Well."

The silence stretched long enough to become uncomfortable, and Harry turned, intending to get Malfoy's things unpacked and unshrunk. It was strange, and he had to force himself to ignore the oddness that was Malfoy not only in his house, but in his nursery. Then Malfoy finally spoke. "How far... What happened?"

He paused, turning back to look at Malfoy. "She was seven months. They don't know what happened."

Malfoy's hand twitched just enough for his fingers to brush the bulge of his belly before dropping again. The movement was furtive, obviously intended to be hidden, but it was obvious to Harry, who was still reeling under his earlier epiphany about Malfoy's child. His first thought was that it was the first time he'd noticed that sort of tell: the thing he'd seen in domestic cases in the past where the abused partner attempted to keep any sign of caring for something hidden, for fear of losing it. The second thought followed immediately after: that Malfoy loved this child.

He rubbed the lines on his wrist. "Molly makes amazing roasts, and always more than enough to feed everyone for a week so there's plenty. I'll make you a plate." Malfoy gave no indication of having heard, so he turned and went back down to the kitchen to lay out dinner.

Dinner was silent. Malfoy ate quickly, radiating discomfort, before retreating. At the quiet click of his latch, Harry sighed and refreshed the stasis charm on Ginny's plate. He spared a moment to wonder when his life began to be defined by the sound of closing doors and Apparition pops.

Once the dishes were washing, he made his way to the Floo, grabbing a pinch of powder and calling out "The Burrow!"

He waited a moment, his head in the fire, before Molly wandered into view.

"Harry! I thought I heard the chime. Are you all right?"

"Yeah, is Gin there?"

Molly's brow furrowed slightly. "No, she was here earlier to get some food, but that was, oh, two hours ago now. Is everything all right?"

He sighed. "She left before dinner. Malfoy has to stay with us through the rest of the pregnancy; it's too taxing on his magic for him to be alone in case something happens. She wasn't happy."

Molly eyed him a moment, her expression unreadable. "I haven't seen her. You might try with George and Angelina."

"I will. Thanks."

"And Harry? Bring Draco to dinner on Friday. He is going to be part of this family, and he needs all the family he can get."

He smiled. "Thank you, Molly."

"Goodnight, Harry."

He pulled back, watching the flames fade from green to orange. He knew that offer was hard for Molly, and the fact she was willing to make an effort to put the past behind her warmed him. Tossing in another pinch of powder, he called

"Upstairs Wheezes!"

This time when the Floo connected, he heard Ginny's voice immediately. "But if Hobday works on his Bludger Backbeat..."

Her voice trailed off when he cleared his throat. "Gin, can you come back home please so we can talk?"

"Oh, so now I can talk?"

He sighed. "You know that's not what I meant. Do you want to have this conversation like this?"

"Maybe you should go on." Angelina's voice was quiet, but firm. "You two need to talk and I don't need to hear it."

There was no audible response, but he recognized Ginny's trainers approaching the Floo and he stepped back in time for Ginny to pass through. As soon as the flames faded again, she turned her glare on Harry. "I'm here."

He nodded and waved his wand in a hasty Muffliato. He wasn't certain what to tell Ginny, so settled on blunt. "The pregnancy is draining Malfoy's magical core, so he can't live on his own anymore. Luna offered, but with the Vow, him staying here was the better option." And he knew the last bit was stretching it a bit, but it also was the quickest way he could think of to cut off any arguments.

Not that Ginny seemed to have any. She'd been ready to yell at him before he started speaking, he could tell by the angry flush to her face. But at his explanation, her expression had grown thoughtful. He was getting nervous at her silence when she finally spoke. "Spending a few months unable to do any magic is no more than he deserves. I'm sure he'll make a full recovery, Malfoys always seem to manage to come out on top."

"He can't even set his wards, he's never had to live without magic like this."

"I do understand what draining magical core means, and it's not like it's permanent." She sighed, rubbing her forehead. "We can deal with him being underfoot for a few months, and he can see how normal people live. Our house is a better option than Luna's anyway, since he'll be able to at least use the stove and fridge. It'll be fine."

"You won't... hex him or anything, will you?"

She shot him a venomous look at that. "I think I can restrain myself form hexing the pregnant invalid, thanks."

He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Fine, fine. You just tend to be a little..."

"He's pregnant. I'm not going to hurt an innocent; I'm not going to stoop to their level." She sighed again, before her lips twisted into a bitter smile. "Doesn't mean I won't slap him with a Silencing Charm if he starts in on me, though."

"Gin—"

"Oh, relax. It's not like I'll be here with him all day anyway. I'll make sure I keep out of the way until you're here to play Referee."

He gave a faint laugh at that, in spite of himself. "He's... better than he was in Hogwarts. We used to need Luna holding our hands and playing Referee, but..."

"Hm. I'll take your word for that, thanks. I'll play nice with Malfoy as long as he keeps his mouth shut. Now, I hope you left a plate for me because I'm starving."

"It's on the table." He cancelled the Muffliato as Ginny left for the kitchen, listening to the sounds of creaking above his head as Malfoy paced in the guestroom.

Dinner Friday with the Weasley's was awkward at best. Molly and Arthur were kind but reserved. Ginny and George ignored Malfoy entirely. Angelina was silent. Ron kept shooting Harry sympathetic glances. Luna and Hermione made a point to try and get more than single-word responses from Malfoy in conversation. It didn't work; his longest phrases were "good evening" and "thank you for dinner."

In short, it was a misery but not a disaster. And the pained expression on Malfoy's face, quickly hidden behind bland politeness, when Molly insisted he return the next week summed up the evening in full.

It also summarized the previous week, as well as each week stretching ahead into the foreseeable future. Ginny had taken to hiding out in Scotland, or with George and Angelina, and avoiding the chance of running into Malfoy. Harry almost felt he never saw her.

He did see Luna sitting at the kitchen table three times taking tea with Malfoy when he got home. It felt like his world had reversed, where Luna came bearing pastries and biscuits and Harry was protecting Malfoy from... everything.

The strangest thing was she insisted they start referring to each other as "Harry" and "Draco" and ignored the expression of horror he was certain matched Malfoy's at that.

"Consider it an assignment from your Mind Healer," was her final word on the subject, and she'd proceeded to somehow get her way. At least while she was there.

Even the word felt strange in his mouth. Draco. All through Hogwarts, it had always been Malfoy, never Draco. Malfoy and his father. Malfoy's mother. Always Malfoy. Calling him Draco, even just in front of Luna, seemed so familiar. As if they were friends.

But he supposed that's what they were now. They spoke. He knew how Malfoy—Draco—took his tea. Knew he liked his toast dark and smothered with marmalade. Knew that he would always take seconds on chicken, but wouldn't touch beef with even the slightest bit of pink to it. Knew he would pick the onions out of a pile of veg, knew he always ate carrots first if they were on his plate, knew he was addicted to olives, when he couldn't stand them before the pregnancy.

And knowing someone's eating preferences might not seem like a lot to build a friendship on, but it had been a good enough start for him and Ron. He didn't care that Luna had laughed when he'd said that; her laughter was Luna-speak for him doing something right for once.

He held onto the feeling that he was doing something right, and tried to get used to calling Malfoy Draco, and focused on moving forward.

"It just feels so strange." Harry was lying back on one of Luna's poufs, as she lay perpendicular to him, their heads just touching. "It almost feels like we're family."

Luna hummed quietly. "Draco has been living with you for a month now. You said yourself that you thought you'd become some sort of friends. You've also said you intend on him remaining part of your child's life. Why should it feel strange?"

"It just sometimes hits me that it's Malfoy."

Luna tugged on a piece of his hair, sharp enough to make his eyes water. "Draco."

"Most of the time, but he was Malfoy for years. Still is, sometimes." He grinned, but it quickly faded. "It's strange because... because it is Malfoy. Was Malfoy. And we get along, when we couldn't for years.

"It doesn't feel real. Like, we'll be discussing dinner, and when I think about it... If you'd told me ten years ago, or even six months ago I would be making grocery lists with Draco Malfoy, that he'd be living with me, that we'd be getting along, that he'd make me laugh..."

He let his words trail off, grateful that he could feel Luna's presence, solid against the top of his head, but he didn't have to look at her. "We've beentalking. Sometimes it worries me, his stomach is just so... there now. And he can't do magic, and he's not complaining. I mean, he is, but..." He rubbed a hand over his face and tried again. "I can tell when he's serious. When he's trying to be abrasive to give himself some space. I can read him and it's weird."

"You're friends, Harry."

"Even Ron says we're friends. And that is weird on its own."

Luna laughed softly. "What about Ginny?"

He sighed. "I don't see Ginny much. She... avoids the house."

Luna was silent a moment. "Does that bother you?"

"She's not trying!" He sat up, clutching his knees as he tried to will away the resentment in his gut. "She's not trying to give him a chance. And if she can't be in the same room with Draco without pretending he's a lamp, what will she do with the baby?"

"Have you told her that?"

"I barely see her. She spends most of her time at the Pitch, or at George and Angelina's. But yes, I did ask her how she thought she'd handle the baby. She said the difference was it wouldn't be a Malfoy. But it will be."

Luna sighed. He could hear her sitting up on her own pouf, then felt her head resting against his shoulder. "Do you want to bring Ginny in with you for marriage counseling?"

And something in his gut went cold. He knew they needed therapy if they had any hope of salvaging their relationship. He knew what they had now couldn't be defined as a relationship. He'd seen it in Draco's expression, in Molly's eyes, watching as Ginny became less and less a presence in her own house.

And part of him wondered; Ginny was happy. She spent her days on a broom, free in a way she hadn't let herself be for years. "I think I need to speak to her about that."

He felt the nod of Luna's head against his shoulder and sighed. "Will you take Draco to dinner sometime this week? Let me talk to Gin without him being there."

"Of course, Harry. I'll take him home for dinner tomorrow."

"Thanks."

True to her promise, when Harry arrived home the next afternoon, it was to an empty house and a note from Luna saying Draco was spending the evening with her. He Floo'd the Montrose stadium and left a message with one of the assistants asking for Ginny to come straight home after practice.

Then he waited. He'd left long enough to grab takeaway from his favorite curry shop, but spent most of the next hour pacing. Finally, Ginny Apparated onto the porch and pushed in the door, dropping a large Quidditch bag in the entry. "Do I smell biryani?"

"Yeah, in the kitchen."

"You're a life-saver." She smiled distractedly at him and then stretched; he heard her shoulders pop as she leaned left then right. "And Malfoy's gone for the night? You're amazing. Let me get cleaned up."

He listened to the sounds of her feet going up the stairs as he returned to the kitchen, dropping the stasis charm and plating the rice. Shortly, she came into the kitchen and plopped down, rosy cheeked and tired, wearing a pair of old pajamas. "Merlin, practice today was brutal. I spent all day getting Bludgers smacked at me, but Hobday's aim is finally getting better."

She pushed herself up as Harry nudged a plate toward her. "I've... been talking to Luna."

She took a bite, and gazed at him expectantly.

"She asked if we'd like to do marriage counseling."

There was a clatter when Ginny let her fork fall onto the plate. "Why the fuck would we do marriage counseling?"

"Maybe because we don't talk? We hardly have a relationship anymore! I never see you, you're avoiding the house..."

"I'm avoiding Malfoy! Who you brought here to live with us!"

"Who I am responsible for because he's pregnant with my—our child!"

"Oh, your child, not ours. I think that says plenty right there."

"Yes it does! I did this for you, and you won't even try to be in the same house. So right now, yes. Not ours."

"What do you expect? It's Malfoy! You know what that family did—"

"Years ago. All right? Years ago. And things changed. Draco changed. Everyone changes, and you just... You're refusing to see it." Ginny's glare sharpened, but he continued before she could break in. "There's going to be a baby in just a few months. And she's going to be a Malfoy. She'll be a Potter and a Weasley and a Malfoy and a Lovegood, because those are all the people who will be around her and loving her. And right now, I don't think you're going to let yourself be one of them because you're so hung up on the Malfoy part!"

"It sounds like you're the one who's made up his mind to not give me a chance."

He sighed, dropping his head and rubbing the headache that had begun pounding there. "I'm asking you to marriage counseling, aren't I?"

"So you and Luna can tell me how horrible I am for not forgetting what the Malfoys did to us?"

"You can't hold a grudge for things that happened to me or Luna or Hermione. Especially when we've already forgiven it."

"Have you forgiven Voldemort? For what he did to you, to your parents, to everyone who died? And if he had a son who was right with him, would you forgive him, too?"

"Lucius Malfoy isn't Voldemort. And Draco isn't his father."

"Lucius Malfoy is a horrible excuse for a human being who was willing to sacrifice a child to further his own ends. And you call him Draco now?"

"Luna insisted. I think to separate now from Hogwarts."

Ginny shook her head. "I don't know what you expect marriage counseling to do. I'm not going to suddenly join you two in Malfoy's fan club."

"This has nothing to do with that. We don't see each other! We don't talk! You're willing to use the excuse of Malfoy to avoid me and everything else completely!"

"Oh, like you haven't spent years doing the same?" Ginny stood up with such force her chair toppled. "For years, ever since... You only cared about one thing. Just trying to have another baby. I was nothing but a walking womb to you. And now you have Malfoy for that, and suddenly it's my fault and our marriage is falling apart?"

He stood as well, anger rushing through him hot and fast. "You're right. It's been falling apart for years, and a lot of it has been my fault. But I thought trying to do something now would count for something."

"Count for you being the better person? Fuck you. I can't even look at you right now. I'm going to stay at Mum's."

The sound of his plate shattering was cathartic after the pop of Apparition, but nearly stepping on a shard of porcelain left him cleaning the mess with a wand wave.

Part of him wanted to Floo Luna. Or Hermione. Wanted to yell and fight and engage in whatever it was Luna called it when Draco shattered all the plates in her cupboards. Instead, he told himself he was doing the adult thing. He boxed up the leftovers, cleaned the kitchen, and went to bed.

He only wished sleep came easy.