A/N: I took a risk with the end of this chapter. Let me know what you think.
Hello to Ines, who says nice things about EDF on tumblr. You can find my blog at hidingfromsomeone . tumblr . com (remove the spaces!)
Thank you all for your love and support, it does keep me going!
Chapter 12- Because I Like You
In the soft, hazy state between awake and asleep, Harry was dimly aware of hot, regular breaths disturbing the back of his neck and a heavy arm draped over his waist. As the morning crept in he recognised the almost- snoring as Draco's, and the fact that he'd put the t- shirt back on to sleep in.
He couldn't help but be a little bit disappointed, after all the progress they'd made the night before, but this was Draco's issue to deal with and Harry respected that. He gently toyed with the slightly worn fabric of the cuff, rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger until a hitching breath and searching fingers told him he'd woken the other man up.
Rather than greeting him 'good morning', Draco pressed a soft, chaste kiss into the juncture of neck and shoulder.
"I'm sorry about the t- shirt," he murmured.
"That's okay," Harry said. "I don't mind."
It was still early, but Draco started mumbling to himself and got up, padding around the room for a few minutes before leaving for the bathroom. Harry half fell back asleep; hearing the movements of the house but not really paying attention to them as he drifted, even when Draco came back in to get dressed.
An indeterminable time later there was a light pressure on the bed and Harry cracked an eye open to see Draco leaning over him, depositing a sleepy Bear into the bed next to Harry.
"I'm going to go down to the lab for a bit," he whispered, grinning. "You two be good."
"We will," Harry mumbled.
Draco cast a static shield charm around the bed to stop either boy rolling out without meaning to and left them with a kiss on the head each.
Harry got a small amount of sleep with the baby next to him, but too soon for his liking Bear was awake, singing to himself and poking at Harry to wake him up.
"Come on then, you," Harry mumbled, lifting Bear up to sit on his chest as he rolled on to his back. Bear seemed to like this development and was more than happy to play with the stream of bubbles Harry produced from the end of his wand.
The conspectus charm hovered close by and Harry smiled as he imagined Draco watching them as he tried to work. He smoothed Bear's hair back from his forehead; it was turquoise this morning, and getting long around his ears, but Harry was loathed to cut it. It clashed somewhat with the sunshine yellow pyjamas that he'd slept in, but if there was one thing they'd learned about Bear's abilities it was that he hadn't learned colour coordination just yet.
The six month mark was fast approaching and Harry knew that sooner rather than later they were going to need to talk about the upcoming hearing. There was no guarantee that Madame O'Connell would agree to let them keep Bear for another six months, even if they were doing a good job of caring for him. It was something that Harry was desperately trying to hide from Draco. He had his concerns about getting too attached to the baby – although really, it was too later for that. They had grown into their own happy little family and this… thing that was developing between the two of them wasn't impacting their care of the baby. If anything, it made them a stronger unit.
As long as it stays this way, a little voice in his head whispered.
Andromeda was sure to wake up eventually; sooner, rather than later, if the Healers were to be believed. And she was sure to want her grandson back. The fact that all of this was temporary was heartbreaking, but no one had ever presented it as anything differently. It was their own fault for getting caught up with playing house and not thinking about the reality of the situation.
"Yup, you need a clean nappy," Harry told the baby and disabled the shield charm as he swung his legs over the side of the bed.
When Bear was clean and dressed, Harry left him in his crib with a few toys to play with and moved the conspectus charm in so Draco could keep an eye on him. Finally alone, in the shower, he allowed himself to relive the previous night in perfect, technicolor glory.
There was an owl waiting for them at the kitchen window when Harry (and Bear) went in search of breakfast. Since they were trying to teach him how to 'play nice', Harry let the bird in for a crust of toast and showed Bear how to stroke him gently. It was clearly one of the Hogwarts owls, so it was used to being handled.
He set Bear up in his high chair with a few strawberries while he brewed coffee for himself and Draco, and unfolded his letter.
Dear Harry,
I hope you are well! I heard that the snow has reached London this year; we're snowed in, of course, but that shouldn't surprise you. Things are… hectic, here, I suppose. Christmas always seems to highlight a time where we remember all the people that aren't here any more.
Christmas is what I wanted to talk to you about, really. I was going to fire- call but I wasn't sure when Draco would be around. See, the thing is, Molly is expecting you to go to The Burrow for Christmas Day this year. And to bring Bear with you. I've only just heard all of this from Ginny myself, otherwise I would have told you earlier.
I mean, for all I know you're okay with this, but for some reason I can't imagine you leaving Draco alone all day at Christmas. Because even if Molly does invite him, I'd bet my last Sickle that he wouldn't go. And no one should be alone at Christmas, Harry, not even him.
If you're not going to be there, you really need to tell her soon. Because she's likely going to hit the roof.
I'm here if you need me. And Ron should be back from Tibet by the time you read this.
Love, Hermione.
Harry read the letter twice, rolled his eyes, scowled, and made two mugs of coffee.
"Shit."
xXx
It was late, but The Crup & Duck was packed and Ron had had to use his most persuasive of smiles to secure them a small table with two backless, round stools. Harry had bought the round, or, rather, he'd gone to the bar where the barman had refused to take his money, and Harry had chucked the Galleon in the charity collection bucket in protest.
"Yeah, Mum's going to hit the roof," Ron agreed once Harry had recounted the contents of the letter to him. "Did you kill Malfoy yet? Because if you haven't, now's the time to do it. Two birds with one stone, and all that."
"No, I haven't," Harry said, chuckling despite himself. "And I'm not going to, either."
"Shame," Ron said with a shrug.
"I really don't want to upset her," Harry wailed. "She's like a mum to me too, you know? But I just can't abandon Draco at Christmas. Hermione would kill me if I did."
"Well…" Ron said, trailing off and considering the inside of his pint glass and the warm amber liquid therein.
"Yes?" Harry prompted.
"George is bringing Angelina over for Christmas, introducing her to the family and all that," he said slowly. "He's going to finally tell Mum that they're living together. And you definitely did not hear this from me, but Fleur's pregnant; Bill was going to announce it on Christmas Day. I reckon if you skip dinner, but come over in the afternoon for presents and stuff, and maybe stay for tea, then you might be able to get away with it, what with everything else that's going on."
Harry was silent as he considered this wall of information. "You reckon?" he said eventually.
Ron nodded. "And… I dunno, this might be going a step too far, but I think we should stick together. How about if me and Hermione come to you for dinner? I think Charlie is bringing someone back, some Romanian witch that he's been seeing, and if Percy brings Penelope we're going to be seriously squashed. She might even think it's a good idea."
Silently, Harry thought that if Ron thought that Molly would consider the absence of all three of them and the baby a good idea, he was barking, but it was a plan with merit.
"I dunno, mate. I think you've spent too much time around other people having good ideas. It's clearly rubbing off on you."
Ron pinked with pleasure or alcohol, it wasn't really clear which.
"Could we stay at yours, Christmas Eve? Then we can all go over to Mum's together. And she might have enough beds for everyone."
"Yeah," Harry said, warming to the idea. "And you know I'll let you and Hermione sleep in the same bed."
"It's not just that…" Ron said. "Me and Neville have been staying in our flat in between assignments and it's a tip. If Hermione sees it she's going to have a fit."
Harry laughed and drained his glass. "No problem. Next round is yours."
xXx
The next part of the plan was convincing everyone else involved in it that it was as good an idea as several pints had convinced Ron and Harry it was. Fortunately, most of the participants were willing.
"No," Draco whined after Harry had removed the Silencio that he'd cast after Draco's constant interrupting. "I don't want to spend Christmas with Granger and the Weasel."
Harry smirked. "Want to spend it at The Burrow instead?"
"No," Draco repeated, sulking with his arms folded across his chest.
"At the Manor by yourself? Here by yourself?"
"No."
"Well then."
"They don't like me." A soft, pink bottom lip thrust itself out in a pout.
"Of course they don't like you, Draco!" Harry cried, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "You spent the best part of six years being an insufferable git! But they're good people. And my friends. And they'll be nice to you if you're nice to them."
"I'll be nice to them if they're nice to me."
"Draco."
"Fine! I'm not cooking though."
"Oh, no way. I'm not cooking for five people for Christmas dinner by myself." Harry grabbed one of Draco's leather bound notebooks that he used to detail the progress of his potions. "Come on. Help me make a list."
"A list of what? Don't use that notebook."
Draco searched through a pile of parchment and flung a cheap, lined notepad at Harry and stoked the fire for more heat.
"Food for Christmas."
"I've never done this before…"
"You don't say," Harry said sarcastically, winking at the other man. "And I'm doing a turkey, before you start waxing lyrical about the benefit of goose over pheasant."
Draco snorted. "Turkey is common."
"Fuck off."
He laughed openly, then. "You do make nice roast potatoes."
"Thank you."
"Oh! And parsnips. And carrots."
"I could teach you to cook, you know? As a Christmas present."
"No thanks, Potter."
Harry smiled and shifted on the sofa, leaning back into the corner and bringing his feet up to rest on the cushion. Resting the pad against his knee, he scrawled the words 'turkey, potatoes, carrots, parsnips' on the page. Added 'butterbeer, chocolates, firewhiskey'.
"Do you like Turkish Delight?" Harry asked.
"Mm. Yeah."
It was added to the list. After a few minutes of quill- chewing, Harry bored of the task and tossed the list onto the coffee table.
"What are you gonna get Bear for Christmas?"
Draco smiled at him from the other end of the sofa. "There are traditions in pureblood families on what you buy children for birthdays and Christmases."
"Oh. Like a watch on your seventeenth?"
"Exactly," Draco agreed. "For a first Christmas it's usually a hefty deposit in the baby's own saving account at Gringotts."
Harry smiled and rolled his eyes. "Nice. Classy."
"Well, he's too young to appreciate much at this age."
"Toys," Harry argued lightly. "He likes toys."
"We can buy him toys any time. We do buy him toys any time. All the time, in fact."
Harry looked up at the conspectus charm which showed the baby sleeping soundly in his bed.
"I'm really going to miss him when he goes."
"Don't say that," Draco said immediately.
"He's not going to be here forever. There's no point in pretending he's ours when we can't keep him."
"You don't know that."
Harry reached out and tugged on Draco's sleeve. "Come here."
Draco turned awkwardly and settled himself between Harry's legs, his back to Harry's chest and his legs stretched out along the length of the sofa. It was incredibly intimate and familiar, but of course, they had been more intimate than this. Still, it felt different. Too romantic, maybe. He turned his head into the warm, soft skin of Harry's neck. Felt Harry's arms come around his waist and hold him close to a warm body. Yes, it was definitely different.
"I like you," Harry whispered.
"I'm shocked," Draco countered.
"Not as much as I am."
Draco huffed a laugh. "Are you sure you want this?"
One of Harry's hands had insinuated itself under the hem of his jumper and was resting just over his bellybutton. The other hand tangled with Draco's fingers. Their legs were pressed tightly together. And Harry was half hard.
"It's scaring the ever loving shit out of me, to be honest."
"Because I'm a man?"
"No, because you're you."
Draco nodded. "That makes sense. They'll hate this, you know."
"Who?" Harry kissed the shell of an ear.
"Weasley and Granger. Mrs Weasley. The rest of Wizarding Britain."
Harry shook his head, his hair tickling the back of Draco's neck. "I don't care what they think."
"Not right now you don't. But what about when you're completely ostracised by all of your friends and family? When people won't serve you in shops because of the man you're with?"
"I think you're forgetting something," Harry said. His thumb and forefinger were rubbing together the silky strands of hair that trailed in a line from Draco's bellybutton to down... lower. Then his blunt nails gently scratched over the area. It was driving Draco insane.
"What?" he demanded, although his usual harshness had been lost.
"You're a hero too, these days," Harry teased lightly.
"They won't forget that quickly, Harry."
"I don't know."
"I do," Draco said wryly. "They still cross the street to avoid me on Diagon Alley."
"Maybe you just need a bit more good press."
"I hate the press."
"Me too."
Harry had started to run his fingertips back and forth just above Draco's waistband. With his lips worrying the smooth column of Draco's throat, he thumbed the first silver button of Draco's fly undone.
"Harry-"
"Shhh."
The next three were worked with slow precision, allowing Harry to feel the growing hardness beneath the layer of denim and cotton. Draco's irregular heartbeat was even more noticeable with Harry's lips pressed to his jugular and Harry couldn't help but think that this was real power, holding an equally powerful man in his arms and reducing him to a quivering wreck.
His fingertips were moments away from sliding under the elastic of Draco's boxers, and he spooked.
"Sorry, sorry." Draco surged to his feet and hastily refastened his fly. "I can't do this. I'm sorry."
Harry thunked his head back against the arm of the sofa and groaned. There was no question about it - he would have to follow Draco and talk this out if he had any respect for the... thing between them. Didn't mean he actually wanted to, though.
After checking all of the magical protection around the house, he extinguished the lights and made his way up to the third floor.
"Draco?" he called softly, knocking on his door.
"Good night," Draco called back. "See you in the morning."
"Oh no you don't," Harry muttered. "Alohomora."
Draco was sat on the windowsill by his open window, smoking with jerky motions. He scowled deeply when Harry let himself in.
"That's very rude, you know."
"You wouldn't have let me in, otherwise." Harry shut the door behind him.
"I could have been getting changed."
Harry shrugged. "What's wrong?" He was sorely tempted to add 'with you' after, but left it at the first two words.
"Nothing. I just - I'm not in the mood."
"Right. Okay." Harry's words were sarcastic.
Draco stubbed out his cigarette and Vanished it, then Summoned his tin of tobacco and rolled another with deft fingertips and practiced motions.
"Those things will kill you."
Draco rolled his eyes. "No they won't."
"Why won't you let me touch you? You've touched me plenty of times now. If we're going to have sex then you're going to need to let me reciprocate eventually."
"You wanna fuck? Fine," Draco said. "Turn the lights off and strip. Let's do it."
"I'll leave the lights on, actually," Harry said. His fingers went to his throat and started to unbutton his shirt. "Let me light a few more."
With his shirt undone, exposing his broad chest and its fine dusting of hair, Harry pulled his wand and lit several more candles around the room.
"Oh, much better," Draco drawled sarcastically. "Nox."
The room went black.
"Lumos," Harry countered, relighting all the candles. "What's wrong, Draco?"
"Why are you pushing this?"
"Because you won't fucking talk to me straight, so I'm trying to get a reaction out of you the way that worked for seven fucking years."
Draco growled in the back of his throat and took a long drag on his cigarette. Harry folded his arms across his chest and remained determined that he wasn't going to be embarrassed at his half- dressed state. Eventually Draco pulled the sash window closed and stood.
"I don't like my body," he whispered, looking at the floor.
Harry crossed the room and tilted the other man's chin up with a gently crooked finger. "Why? You're beautiful."
Draco shook his head. "No I'm not. I'm too skinny, you said it yourself. And I'm covered in scars. I look like... damaged goods."
Harry gently took him by the shoulders and turned him to face the large, once cracked mirror on the wall.
"That doesn't matter to me. No, look at me, Draco." Harry locked eyes with Draco's reflection and slowly pushed his fringe back from his forehead. "Does this make me damaged goods?"
Draco licked his lips slowly, unconsciously and chewed his lip. Shook his head. "No."
"Then neither do yours. They're war scars, same way mine are. They mean you lived through it and you survived. You're a survivor, just like I am."
"We're nothing alike, Harry." Draco's eyes had dropped from his reflection again.
"We're more alike than I ever realised," he countered with a touch of humour.
Harry rested his chin on Draco's shoulder and wrapped his arms around an unwilling torso. After a few minutes, Draco's arms moved from their position held stiffly by his sides to wrap around Harry's. Smiling into Draco's neck, Harry peppered the pale neck with kisses again.
"I'm so, so scared," Harry admitted. "I need you to be strong with me. I don't know how to do this if you don't want it as much as I do."
With a soft sigh, Draco turned in his arms and realigned their bodies so Harry's arms were around his shoulders and his own were anchoring them together. He tilted his head until their mouths were just inches away from each other, then closed the gap.
It never failed to shock Harry just how easily they fit together. Kissing other people - girls - had never been like this. The slow, gentle exploration that pitched a fire in his chest and a tightness in his trousers; the slide of a tongue in his mouth and lighter, gentle nips that stoked the fire into a burning want.
"I want you," Draco said, resting his forehead against Harry's. "I've never wanted anyone like I want you, and that terrifies me. There's something that you do that's connecting my head and my heart and no one's ever had my heart before. It's hard to give it up when I didn't realise that I'd been protecting it so fiercely."
"You don't have to give it up all at once," Harry whispered. "I'll wait for the rest of you."
The words weren't coming for Draco any more, but kisses were easy, and so desperately wanted when they were Harry's kisses; so easily taken and so willingly offered. His hands flattened on warm, bare skin under the still open shirt, and even though he wanted nothing more than to throw Harry down and fuck him within an inch of his life, that wasn't for tonight.
"I'm sorry."
"That's okay," Harry said, kissing the corner of his mouth. "I'd say don't pull away from me, but I'm guessing you will. It's okay if you do, just come back, yeah?"
Draco nodded. "I don't want you to feel like I'm kicking you out, but I need to get stuff straight in my head and I don't think I'm going to be able to keep my hands off you if you stay here tonight."
Harry kissed him gently. It quickly slid into something more, proving Draco's point.
"If you have a nightmare, come in to me, okay? Don't feel like you can't come over. I don't mind."
"Okay."
"Goodnight," Harry whispered, extracting himself from Draco's arms.
xXx
Daily Prophet Edition from 14th December 1998
Today we heard the announcement that the Society for the Protection of Magical Orphaned Children (SPMOC), will receive the full support of the Ministry of Magic's child protection department. SPMOC was incepted in the days following the end of the war by the organisation headed by the late Albus Dumbledore, the Order of the Phoenix. Himself a member of the Order, Minister Shacklebolt has been firm in his stance that the Society first met all standards laid out by the Ministry before receiving public funding, and that this delay was necessary in order to make sure the organisation was in the interest of the public.
"The Order of the Phoenix is not a political organisation," the Minister said at today's press conference. "Although I am a proud member of the Order, I cannot and will not let my political standing allow the Order an easy pass with Ministry guidelines, especially when those guidelines apply to the protection and care of children."
In the background of all this political upheaval it seems that those the SPMOC seeks to protect have, unfortunately, been forgotten.
Official figures from the War period are notably untrustworthy due to upheaval within the Ministry itself during that time. Conservative estimates put the number of War orphaned children at anything between 60 and 200. These figures are based on the assumption that an 'orphaned' child has lost at least one parent, if not both.
Over the past six months, a select team here at the Prophet have been keeping a keen eye on how both the Order of the Phoenix and the Ministry have been dealing with the sudden influx of parentless children. The most notorious is the Phoenix Orphanage, situated in the leafy community of Primrose Hill where at least thirty children now live whilst suitable foster homes are found. We believe we have traced and ascertained the status of most of the lost children. But there are a few that have eluded us.
As a matter of public interest, we are seeking those who may know the location and status of the following children to come forward and assure us of their safety.
Alicia Towey
Age: 14 months
Parents: Louise Towey (father unknown)
Louise Towey was a single mother, a Muggle born who all but disappeared after leaving Hogwarts. She was living in London at the time of her death and little is known about her life, friends, or the possible whereabouts of her daughter. Any information on Alicia's whereabouts would be greatly appreciated by those in the Prophet office who are extremely concerned about this little girl.
Ted 'Teddy' Lupin
Age: 9 months
Parents: Nymphadora 'Tonks' Lupin and Remus Lupin
Poor Teddy Lupin is possibly one of the most tragic cases that we have come across. His grandfather, Ted Tonks, was killed by 'Snatchers' in the closing months of the war and both his parents died a hero's death in the final battle. After being left in his grandmother, Andromeda Tonks' care, at three months old the child once again lost a loved one; according to our sources Mrs Tonks is still a patient at St Mungo's after being the victim of a curse only weeks after the War ended.
The location of baby Teddy is currently unknown. He does have family; his second cousin is Draco Malfoy, a young man who has recently proved his own hero status after assisting a team of Ministry Aurors in a dramatic rescue mission. And his godfather is none other than the Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter. However, due to the age of Malfoy and Potter, (both are only eighteen), it is likely that he is living with family friends until his grandmother has recovered.
Isabella McCall
Age: 2 years
Parents: Tillie and Michael McCall
Isabella McCall's parents were killed while hiding out in what had been billed as a 'safe-house', supposedly under the Fidelus charm, the location of which was released to Death Eaters. Although Isabella was with her parents at the time of their deaths, in a harrowing echo of Harry Potter's own story seventeen years ago, there are rumours that Isabella survived the attack and may have been rescued by Muggles.
The Ministry and SPMOC have admitted to relocating very young magical children who would not have yet started to show their magical abilities to non- magical foster parents for a short time, but due to Isabella's age, it is crucial that she is relocated to a wizarding family as soon as possible.
Titan Noble
Age: 11 months (approximately)
Parents: Gaia and Arturo Noble
This child is somewhat of a conundrum; his birth was only documented by word of mouth and it wasn't until photographs were discovered of him with his parents that we were able to verify his existence. Son of a Death Eater father and a highly respected Ministry witch, who was accused of defecting and allowing many of You- Know- Who's followers into high ranking positions within the Ministry. Both were killed during clashes with Aurors.
This child is, of course, completely unaware of the sins of his parents. We feel it is imperative that we locate him as soon as possible to prevent so called 'revenge attacks' or vigilante justice.
Your contact at the Prophet for any information regarding War orphaned children is Mildred Spencer at the Diagon Alley office. Floo coordinates are on our contact page.