A/N: Of course it was Arthur! Who else could it possibly have been? (A.W.W. stands for Arthur William Weasley. I'm clearly not as clever as I think I am!)
More from me at the end. Posting this chapter is going to break my heart.

Chapter 30 - Flight of the Dementors

It had been a topic hotly debated in the press in the weeks following Bear's official adoption. While the rationalists among their community agreed that it was a positive move, there were still those who clung to an outdated moral code and objected to the adoption of children by same sex couples.

They could object all they liked – it had taken a few more days, but the Wizengamot had signed into law an amendment to the Protection of Children Act that allowed both same sex couples and single parents to adopt children through official sources. Percy, despite his initial scepticism, was delighted. There had been three more applications from prospective parents since the law had been passed. It would take time, and there would surely always be children needing the care that the Phoenix provided. But it was a start. A good start.

Now, as one of her first official duties, Hermione had been put in charge of an operation to destroy the few Dementors that remained in the country. The rounding up of the former Azkaban guards had been going on by the department for the regulation and control of magical creatures since the end of the war; some had disappeared, others had decided to flee overseas. Those that remained had been captured and contained in an underground bunker on Dartmoor.

"It's already a pretty misty and isolated place," Hermione explained. "It's easy to keep the Muggles away and easy to maintain."

There was no way of ridding the world of Dementors forever. Indeed, a mass cull of this size had never been attempted, or even warranted before. But when the battle lines had been drawn the Dementors had betrayed the Ministry and it was simply too dangerous to allow them to exist.

"How do you kill a Dementor?" Harry asked.

They had gathered, a small group of them, in the living room at Grimmauld Place; Harry and Draco, George and Angelina, Hermione and Ron – who was back to act as a witness for Lady Yaxley's trial, and Neville, who protested that he didn't mind being included in the group of couples.

"Same way you fight one," she said, shrugging. "Patronuses."

"Stop acting like we should know what you're talking about and explain yourself, Granger," Draco said.

George snorted with laughter and tried to hide it with a coughing fit.

"If you have enough positive energy, for example, Patronuses, it will eventually undo the negative energy," she said. "We're trying to round up everyone in the country who we know can cast one. You should have a letter in a couple of days if you haven't had one already."

"I can cast a Patronus," Draco said.

"Yes, Draco, I know," Hermione said, smirking.

"Well, am I getting a letter?"

"Why don't you wait and see?"

He threw a peanut at her.

xXx

Two men had become fathers, but there was still the very important, not-at-all childish matter of a Quidditch tournament to resolve. With Team Gryffindor set to play Team Slytherin in the final, the hype had been whipped up to epic proportions and Harry could honestly say he was excited and dreading it in equal measures.

He'd checked with Draco if he could sub his team and steal some of Team Weasley (the answer was a resounding no), meaning the rest of the team had been training hard to get into the best shape of their admittedly short career. Press speculation about their relationship and their rivalry got ridiculous, Rita got her own back for Harry's sulk in her office by suggesting that Draco was interested in another member of Team Slytherin and Harry got her back in return by giving an exclusive interview on the adoption to the Quibbler.

Within the sanctuary of Grimmauld Place their world whittled down to one baby who was growing up faster than either of them liked to admit. It seemed that 'Daddy' had now entered Bear's vocabulary, a title he was likely to bestow on nearly anyone who picked him up. Harry didn't mind. It was a thrill he never got bored of, lifting his son into his arms, holding him close, and hearing the word Daddy directed at him.

Having George and Angelina so close by was an unexpected help. They were another family going through the adoption process, adapting their lives and their relationship to revolve around a child. Titan wasn't an easy baby; he came with his own set of needs and problems, both psychological and physical. While the Aurors hadn't been able to find out from Lady Yaxley exactly what she'd been doing with the children, the gentle, nurturing care from his new parents meant that Titan was slowly starting to come out of his shell.

Harry woke up on the morning of the Quidditch final to find out that Draco had turned his underwear green in the night. And his t-shirt now sported the Slytherin crest. Ohh… he was going to pay for that.

He didn't see his boyfriend until they walked out onto the pitch at Hogwarts to screams and noise that he was sure never happened in his schooldays. The crowd were split into three distinctive sections; red, green, and orange and purple stripes. It seemed that although Team Weasley had been knocked out of the competition their fans were loyal enough to stay with them through to the end.

It was humbling to walk into the middle of the pitch, Lee Johnson calling out their names, to meet Madam Hooch. As his team got into position behind him, Harry steeled his gaze as he gripped Draco's hand in a bone- crushing handshake, mounted his broom and on the whistle, took off for the sky.

Although his career as a Seeker had officially yet to start, Harry felt the pressure of performing for a crowd who knew exactly what they expected of him. There would surely be Tornado's fans in the crowd, wanting to see what next season's biggest signing could actually do.

Anything that came before this was irrelevant.

This was Quidditch at its best… and its worst.

Harry had thought previous games were fast but this… he could barely keep track of the score, the fouls, the injuries as his players belted from one end of the pitch to the other. He only remembered after ten minutes of play that he was supposed to be looking for a snitch. Krum was circling low, letting the play happen above his head. Harry was right in the middle of the action, directing play, shouting encouragement, accepting the abuse.

"Hey, Potter!"

He looked up with a frown on his face, then his stomach lurched as he caught sight of a familiar blond head, green robes framed by the Hogwarts castle behind him.

"Potter!" Draco called again. "I heard you like boys now."

Stifling a smile, Harry called back "Malfoy. Watch out behind you."

Angelina threw the Quaffle to Katie in the gap between them causing Draco to miss what would certainly have been an easy interception... if he'd been paying attention.

"Will you two stop flirting and start playing?" she yelled.

Harry stuck his tongue in his cheek and dropped into a dizzying swoop.

After forty more minutes of play, Harry was starting to panic. Against all his strategising and planning and training, the Slytherins were pulling ahead. And staying there. They were 200 points behind, then twenty, then 220, then only fifty…

Harry made the decision that he'd wait until they had the barest hint of a lead, then go for the snitch. He hated… hated to admit it but Draco's Chasers were clearly a stronger unit than his, and the way it was going he'd be in for a humiliating defeat unless he secured the win for the team.

When the precious score margin arrived Harry started to race from one side of the pitch, scanning for the tiny golden ball. He heard more cheers from the crowd, one team pulling ahead with a goal then the other pulling back. Then it was right there. He was only a hundred yards away from the snitch…

Harry glanced at the score, they had a ten point margin… he threw himself into the chase and his audience whipped up behind him and there was a roar from both sides of the crowd and that was wrong, wasn't it? But he'd caught it, and his breath was burning his lungs as he held it up but his players' faces were confused…

He chanced a look at the scoreboard and felt the same rush of discomfort: Gryffindor 600 vs Slytherin 600…

It couldn't be…

"And Harry Potter catches the snitch just seconds after Draco Malfoy puts away a goal!" Lee Jordan screamed. "That narrow lead that Potter was looking for was closed and he had no way of knowing... it's a draw, ladies and gentlemen, I've never seen this before in all my years of commentating, it's a draw and now it's up to Potter and Malfoy as to what they want to do next…"

Harry couldn't help it. He laughed.

He laughed until the breath wouldn't force itself into his lungs any more and dropped back down to solid ground. Both teams were also descending around them, some looking amused, some, like Krum, annoyed.

"We can call a penalty shoot out," Madam Hooch said as she walked over to him, Draco following her. "It's an unusual situation, gentlemen. Especially in a tournament final game. Normally the points would just roll over, but this isn't an official competition. It's up to you."

"Does it matter?" Draco asked.

A part of him, the deeply competitive part, wanted to say of course it mattered. There had to be a winner. But there was another part, and he thought it was probably the part that hummed whenever Draco kissed him, that said it didn't matter at all.

"No," he said simply. "Let's just leave it."

Draco nodded, smiling in a way that made him just indescribably beautiful and Harry didn't care that they didn't do this in public, or that there were literally hundreds of people watching, or that there were photographers only a few metres away. He grabbed Draco's wrist and yanked him hard, tumbling into the kiss like the schoolchildren they had been pretending to be, kissing hard like the men they were.

Once again the crow erupted with screams; this time they were joined by catcalls and whistles and laughter.

"Come on," Draco said. "Let's share the glory."

xXx

All teams were gathered back to the pitch in their team colours for official photographs of the tournament. The trophy, a huge, silver cup, was engraved with both Gryffindor and Slytherin as winners and would stand in the Quiet Room at the Phoenix Orphanage where anyone could go and see it. For a small fee, of course.

Harry was also able to present a cheque to Percy for an insane donation to the upkeep of the Orphanage. They had decided, due to the success of the tournament, that there were a few other good causes that they were going to donate to. The fund at Hogwarts for children who needed assistance with books and equipment got a generous scoop. As did the children's ward at St Mungo's.

"I'm all charitied out," Draco groaned as the grabbed two minutes alone in the back of the stands. Most of the crowds had cleared out now, only a few of the players and their families, and Hogwarts staff remained.

"You miserable sod," Harry said. Still, he combed his fingers through Draco's hair a few times as Draco dropped his head to Harry's shoulder.

"Can we just go to the pub now?"

"Yeah. Let's find Bear and go."

It was easy enough to track down the Weasleys, there was enough of them, after all.

"The Three Broomsticks is packed," Ron said, "We just went down to have a look."

"The Leaky?" George suggested.

Arthur shrugged. "The Crup?"

There was a collective groan from his children, his 'adopted' children and their partners.

"How about that little pub in the village?" Hermione said. "In Catchpole, I mean."

"You don't mean The Steel Monkey, do you?" Bill said, causing Fleur to groan from under his arm. "Fleur reckons she got food poisoning there."

"It's has a beer garden," George said. "We can sit outside. And these two won't get any hassle…"

Draco shrugged. "Don't mind us."

So that was how they ended up, the big, overflowing group of family with a table full of pints of ale, no white wine spritzers allowed for either Fleur or Draco.

"Don't be such a bloody poof," Charlie said, whacking Draco on the back. "Get that down your neck. Man up."

Draco grimaced as he took the first sip, frowned at the second, then drained half the glass in the third.

"Good boy," Charlie told him.

The sun was starting to set over the hill, casting the valley in a warm pink glow and long, long shadows. There were enough of the other village children playing around them that Bear, and even Titan felt at ease enough to make friends and with plenty of eyes watching them Harry didn't mind letting him run off for once. They couldn't do this in London.

"What's next then?" Molly asked Draco. "Now you've got your NEWTs out of the way."

"BATs," Draco said with a smile and a toast.

"He's going to live in that basement until he turns into a vampire," Harry said. "He only comes up for food as it is."

"Shut up," Draco told him pleasantly.

"And after that?" Molly asked.

"It'll take a few years to get the BAT certificate," Draco said. "Then I can start applying to work for hospitals, or maybe in an apothecary."

"Well," Percy said, standing, "This seems to be a good time to announce that the Phoenix is expanding. From the generous donation of the tournament," (the group cheered at this), "We will, from September, start offering childcare facilities."

Another round of applause greeted his announcement.

"Sign us up," Angelina said. "It'll be good for Titan to interact with children his own age."

"On the theme of big proclamations," George said, pulling Angelina to her feet with him. "It is high time I tell you all that this fine lady, although being far too good for me, has agreed to be my wife."

Angelina smiled up at him then leaned in to kiss the underside of his jaw. Molly started to cry.

"Oh, Georgie!" she exclaimed.

"More drinks!" Charlie cried.

By the time Harry and Draco arrived back home night had well and truly fallen. Bear was asleep, his head on Draco's shoulder and Harry kissed them both before Draco took him up for bed. With two mugs of tea made, Harry went back to the living room to wait.

"Did he go down okay?" he asked as Draco dragged himself through to the sofa.

"Out like a light. Ugh," he complained as he collapsed into his chair. "I ache everywhere."

"Me too."

"We should have done a bloody penalty shoot out."

Harry snorted with laughter. "Don't worry, darling. I'll beat you next year."

"Watch it, Potter."

"Mm. I love it when you use my last name."

Draco looked over, his eyes sparkling. "I still have my house tie in the wardrobe."

"And a white shirt? And a sexy- as- fuck grey sweater-vest?"

Draco charmed the sofa and dragged it towards his chair with Harry on it. "I have a feeling," he said, "That you're making fun of me."

"Me?" Harry said, the picture of innocence. "Never."

"Do you still have your house tie?"

"Of course." Harry murmured the words against Draco's lips, now that he was close enough to lean over and kiss him.

"Then for fuck's sake, Potter, go and put it on."

xXx

They gathered in a little town on the edge of Dartmoor, finding the direction on Hermione's letter that lead them to a small café where they could wait for their turn to Apparate to the spot where the Dementors were being kept. 'Drink hot chocolate', Hermione's letter had said, and the lady behind the counter gave them an odd look as Harry ordered two mugs and two thick chocolate brownies.

"You're not the first to ask for that today," she said, stirring hot milk in their mugs. "I'm going to run out at this rate."

Even at this distance they could feel the distinct coolness, the heaviness of dark emotions starting to weigh them down.

Bear and Titan were staying at the Phoenix for a few hours; now that the orphanage had the funds to hire more full time staff members it was easier to drop the children off for a few hours.

There were about sixty of them altogether, those who had responded to Hermione's plea for help. On the outskirts were reporters there to record the scene, one of the biggest political statements that had been made in a long time. It was newsworthy. And history- making.

After being taken aside in groups and given instructions and training, they were each asked to cast their Patronus to make sure it was strong enough for the task. One by one they gathered in a wide, loose circle around a pit that had been sunken into the ground, the thick steel bars containing the Dementors within.

"They're corporeal," Hermione explained. "They're not ghosts, they can't go through solid objects."

"How many?" Draco asked.

She shrugged. "About forty at last count. This isn't an experiment, Draco, we're sure it's going to work."

He nodded. Harry took his hand anyway.

At Hermione's signal the bars containing the Dementors melted away and the first pale, scabbed hand came up over the grassy verge.

"Expecto patronum," Hermione whispered from his right, sending her Patronus first towards the pit.

Her otter circled the area, protecting them all as in one group the Dementors rushed up and out, scrambling over each other in their bid for freedom.

"Now!" she cried and suddenly the moor was bight with silver light, the air thick and heavy with the rush of power surging forward.

Harry sent Prongs into the fray and glanced at Draco. He was frowning deeply and his wand arm trembled almost imperceptibly. Harry leaned over and gently laid his lips on Draco's cheek.

"Expecto patronum," Draco said and suddenly his magpie broke free and soared in to where the others were already doing their job.

It was an incredible sight.

Harry could just about make out each individual Patronus but they were working together without any direction from the witch or wizard casting it, seemingly self- organising to work against the overwhelming force of darkness.

"They know what to do," Harry said, entranced.

"Yeah," Hermione agreed.

Around the circle people edged closer to loved ones to keep their happy thoughts strong. Harry smiled as Luna slipped her hand in Neville's. He looked down at her with no small measure of shock, then slowly, a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He leaned down (and when did Neville get so tall?) and kissed her temple.

Harry wasn't sure exactly how the Patronuses were supposed to kill the Dementors, at first all it seemed like they were doing was surrounding the dark, hooded figures. But slowly they seemed to be moving in ever decreasing circles, pressing inwards and exerting ever more pressure on those contained.

Then finally, with an unearthly scream, something in the middle exploded.

Luna's rabbit hopped gleefully through the dust as more and more of the Dementors disintegrated, the black smoke quickly fizzling out to nothing, brushed aside by the more lively Patronuses.

"Fuck me," Draco muttered and Harry laughed, he couldn't help it.

Prongs stuck his head out of the fray as if to look for the source of the laughter, then charged back in again. As the Dementors were destroyed, one by one, the circle of people seemed to close in until he could almost reach out and touch Hermione.

When there were no dark shapes left, only the glimmering presence of hope, the Patronuses scattered. Luna cheerfully waved as hers disappeared over a hill, others, like Molly, dropped their head in relief. Draco squeezed Harry's hand and smiled as he sheathed his wand, then turned as something caught his eye.

Although all of the other Patronuses had gone, only two returned to their owners. Harry had a strange sort of relationship with Prongs; it was the presence of his father, for certain, but also his connection to Lupin, who taught him the spell, and to Sirius, who only survived because of Harry's skill at casting it.

As the large stag cantered back Harry noticed another Patronus riding with him.

There was no doubt that it was Draco's magpie, perched on Prongs' antlers and preening himself happily.

"Well done," Harry murmured as Prongs dropped his head and pawed at the ground. The magpie stretched his wings and took flight... just then, the sun - which had been resolutely hiding behind a thick layer of cloud - broke free, and in the streaks of sunlight both Prongs and the magpie faded to nothing.

The End.

A/N: There are thank- you's, of course, to every person who gave this story a chance. Firstly, to those who followed me here from Twilight FanFiction and trusted me enough with Harry and Draco to tell their story as I wanted to tell it. And, in no way less, also to the HP fans who may never have seen my work before but still let me take out Harry and Draco and play with them. I feel these boys, they speak to me in a way that I don't think I've ever had characters speak to me before.

This is not the first time I've been to Edinburgh. I've worked at the Fringe for four years now, in the same venue on George IV Bridge every time. I've sat, more times than I care to count, in a little cafe and felt a little tingle at the base of my spine. Right here, in this very spot, was where Jo Rowling penned Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. There is magic here, looking up at Edinburgh castle and seeing Hogwarts and knowing... This is where it all began.

It's fitting that right here is where I'll end it.