CHAPTER NINE
"I'm really sorry about today." Harry said quietly as the three adults sat in the living room, waiting for James to return.
Things remained tense in the manor for nearly an hour after the teenager stormed out of the Quidditch field, and some of it remained until all the guests made their exits. The younger boys informed Draco about James's whereabouts, and though he wasn't satisfied with the turn of events, he felt considerably relieved. Not too many minutes before that, he'd gone looking for the boy only to find his room empty and no note left behind.
Night had already fallen and dinner had been quiet, composed of leftovers from lunch heated up with spells and eaten in different rooms and different times by those living in the manor. The Malfoy patriarch had spoken to Chase's parents and made sure James wouldn't consider spending the night away. Now they were all anxiously waiting for his return, each considering appropriate lectures and punishments, but altogether unsure how to handle the situation now that there were three parental figures in the picture.
"It's not your fault, Harry." Astoria spoke softly, smiling at him. She hadn't witnessed the events firsthand, but for a long time it was the main topic of conversation in the garden.
"It kind of is, though." He shrugged weakly, looking away. "Maybe I was too pushy, trying to reconnect and all. He probably needed more time, but I-"
"If that was the case, he could've politely said so." The blond man cut him off, a tone of irritation clear in his voice. "I certainly didn't raise anyone to make such scandals or to be rude to anyone else."
"It's not his fault, Draco." The brunet argued, but the other man shook his head.
"Regardless of how he felt, that wasn't an appropriate response, and he knows that very well."
"He's a teenager, honey." Astoria interfered. "He knows it was wrong, but he's still learning how to control himself, and you know he's always been the most impulsive of the four."
"Still..." He murmured, but let the argument die and the uncomfortable silence surround them.
It took nearly an hour of waiting, mostly in silence, before the blond boy arrived, backpack balanced on one shoulder and eyes down, avoiding them and trying to make it out of the room unnoticed.
"James." The word left Draco's lips with such authority it made the brunet shiver, and was enough for the boy to stop in his tracks and turn around, even though he kept his eyes lowered. "I believe you owe us all apologies, and we have to discuss your punishment for your behavior today."
"I'm sorry." He mumbled half-heartedly. "I'll do whatever you want me to, just leave a note on my door or whatever. May I be excused?"
"You're not getting out of this that easily. Look at us when you apologize, and explain what you're apologizing for so you know not to make the same mistakes again." Draco insisted.
James took a deep breath, letting the strap of his backpack slide down his shoulder and grabbing it before the bag fell to the floor. "I'm sorry for running off, mom, dad." He said quietly, looking from one to the other. "It was irresponsible, I didn't leave a note so you knew where I was, and it was immature running away from my problems, because I know it doesn't help and they won't solve themselves."
While Harry was half-impressed by the choice of words, he could tell it was a rehearsed speech, and wondered just how much of it the boy meant.
Another deep breath later, the brunet and his son made eye contact. "I'm sorry for yelling at you, Harry. I'm sorry I was rude, and I'm sorry if my words hurt you. " He looked back to Draco. "May I be excused now?"
The blond remained quiet, pondering over the request, but Astoria replied for him. "Yes, honey. But stay in your room; we'll let you know your punishment in a short while."
Moving as fast as he could without running, the boy disappeared through the door.
For the following several minutes, the three adults argued over which punishment would be appropriate for James, with Draco wanting to make an example of the situation, Harry taking the blame and wanting to give him a free pass, and Astoria being the voice of reason, standing between the two men. In the end, it was decided James would have to write lines and would be deprived of his allowance for the following month, and the next Hogsmeade visitation.
The rest of Winter Break went by before they realized it, and this time Harry chose to go with the rest of them to King's Cross. The situation was every bit as weird as the final days at the manor had been, perhaps even more because, being not only the boy-who-lived-twice but also the latest medicine miracle, Harry was getting more attention than he had in a long time, which consequently extended to his children, and as soon as they could, they all disappeared into the Hogwarts Express and the adults left the station.
Things were awfully quiet now there were only the three adults in the house, two of whom spent most of their days involved with their work. Harry tried the extensive library a few times, visited old friends as much as he could, but it didn't take him long to feel helplessly bored and start complaining about it, even if he didn't mean to.
"Maybe you should find a hobby or something." Draco suggested as they lay together one night. "You know I'd like to spend more time with you but I really-"
"No, it's okay, I get it. I can't ask you to take time away from your job just because I don't have one. And your right, I really need to find something to do with my time. I just don't know what." He agreed, distractedly drawing circles on the blond's chest.
"I'm sure if you asked any of your friends, they'd be glad to give you a job. And anyone in the Ministry, and pretty much anyone anywhere. What would you like to do?"
"I honestly have no idea." He shrugged slightly.
"I don't suppose you want to go back to being an auror?"
The brunet shook his head. "The danger doesn't sound as appealing anymore. And I don't want to take any risks, not after everything..."
Draco nodded. "Maybe some desk job at the Ministry?"
"Are you kidding me? I'd hate spending the day locked up indoors." He smiled, looking up to meet silver eyes.
The blond laughed softly. "It's not so bad once you get used to it, Potter." Harry stuck out his tongue and looked away, and the other man left a soft kiss on top of his head. "Either way, I guess it rules out any position I could offer you."
"I'd never ask you to, you know. I'll find something for myself, don't worry about it."
Draco just smiled and pulled the brunet closer. In a few minutes, he was sound asleep.
Harry, on the other hand, spent most of the night thinking, going from one possibility to the other, without ever really finding anything that pleased him. A job which allowed him time outdoors meant interacting with people, and the last thing he wanted as to be harassed all over again. At the same time, sitting on his bottom all day was more the stuff of nightmares than a possible career path.
When the first rays of sunlight entered through the curtains and he finally let himself rest, at least one decision he had made.
He was moving back to Grimmauld Place.
"Are you sure that's what you want? You know you're welcome to stay here for as long as you want, right?" Draco insisted as he watched Harry packing his bags.
The brunet had communicated his decision over breakfast, and both his hosts had been evidently surprised by the abrupt change. He explained how he needed start rebuilding his own life and stop intruding on theirs, be he wasn't sure the blond man had understood all too well. Okay, maybe understood, but definitely not accepted. He had, after all, taken the morning off to try and convince him to change his mind.
"It's okay, Draco. I know what I'm doing." He reassured, closing one of the suitcases with the help of a little magic. He was, after all, trying to fit in more than the poor bag could handle.
"Well, who's going to keep me warm at night?" The blond asked teasingly, getting up and enlacing the brunet by the waist, making him giggle.
"How about your wife?"
Draco stuck his tongue out. "It's not the same thing."
"Well, you'll have to get used to it, then." He teased back, letting their lips meet for a lazy kiss. "Seriously, I love being here with you all, but not doing anything is driving me crazy. And you said it yourself, I should find a hobby or something."
"I didn't mean you had move out in order to do that, you know."
Harry smiled kindly and stayed in silence for a few minutes, just staring at the silver eyes watching him. With a sigh, he let his eyes close and rested his forehead against the blond's. "You know I'm grateful for everything you and Astoria did for me, right?" He felt the nod in reply, and his lips curled up slightly. "It's just something I have to do for myself. I need to get my life back."
"I know." Draco whispered, gently touching Harry's lips with his own. "I just got so used to having you around, especially after everything that happened." He explained, taking a few steps back to let the other man return to packing.
"I'm not going to spend another ten years in a coma, Draco." He joked with a smile, but the blond didn't return the expression.
"We don't really know that, do we? I mean, nobody expected an attack, and yet..."
"What, now you're going to tell me you can't live without me or something?" His tone was teasing, but he couldn't deny how much he wished Draco would agree.
The blond took a moment to reply, their eyes locked with such intensity it sent shivers through their bodies. Then he ran a hand through his hair, looking away before speaking. "Don't be so full of yourself, Potter. I just don't want to go through the same trouble to care for your sorry ass again."
"Oh, but you love this sorry ass, Malfoy." He also looked away in order to hide the shadow of hurt running through his eyes. He knew big declarations of love wasn't characteristic from either of them, but at times it seemed a harder fact to accept than it should be.
"Damn right I do. As a matter of fact..." He smiled naughtily, slowly making his way to where Harry stood with his back to him, filling the suitcase resting on the bed. "Maybe I should show you just how much right now." He whispered before capturing an earlobe with his mouth, his arms wrapped around Harry's torso.
The brunet bit his lower lip, his eyes fluttering shut in reaction to the caress. "Maybe you should, lest I forget during my time away..."
Harry only managed to finish packing after lunch, and it was already mid-afternoon when he finally grabbed his belongings and started the walk towards the manor front gates, from where he'd be able to apparate. Astoria said her goodbyes at the front door before excusing herself, and Draco walked the brunet all the way out. He was quieter than usual, and Harry thought it was better to just let him be.
"Come for lunch on Saturday." The blond finally said as he mindlessly cast the spells to open the gate.
"Draco..."
"Better yet, spend the day here. Or the weekend. Or don't go at all." He smiled weakly, and the brunet melted under his gaze, his resolution faltering for a moment.
"I'll be fine and so will you." He reassured, both the blond and himself. "And don't get too buried in work, it's not healthy." He smiled before adding, "And I want you in top shape for the next time I come to visit."
Draco smiled back and pulled him in for a lazy kiss. "Are you sure you don't want to take one of the elves with you? The house probably needs a good-"
"I'll be fine. See you soon."
Draco nodded, and the brunet disappeared with a crack.
Harry landed on the top step leading to Grimmauld Place, a habit he'd kept from the wartime. Leaving his bags on the floor, he fondly touched the aged wood before picking his wand and working on the protective spells which were put over the property. Almost ten minutes later, he finally got through the last magic barrier and reached a hand to the knob, slowly turning it and opening the door.
The first thing he noticed was the smell of old and closed rooms, which didn't bother him much, but reminded him just how long he was away for. As he closed the door behind himself, he could almost hear the sound of a five-year-old James running around, teasing his brother and trying to avoid Ginny's lectures.
He leaned his head on the door as the first tear sprung to his eyes. Suddenly there wasn't enough air in the world to fill his lungs, and ripping his heart from his chest with his bare hands wouldn't hurt as much.
It was too soon.
He should've gone somewhere else, he should've gone anywhere else.
He could still go somewhere else.
Perhaps spend a few days at the Leaky Caldron while he found himself a small flat somewhere else; he could come back in a month, or six. Or never again, because at that moment he didn't think he would ever be ready to face the ghosts that haunted the house.
Turning around, he leaned his back against the door and let himself slide down until he was holding his knees against his chest. He could see so clearly the first time he returned to the house after the war, and painful as it was, it didn't begin to compare.
Fifteen years before, he and Ginny were walking through that same door, baby James asleep on her lap, after they'd taken a cab from St. Mungo's. They'd both agreed Floo and apparition would be too much for a new-born. For the first hour, the three of them just cuddled on the sofa, watching the boy's chest rise and fall, in awe of their new family. Harry could still remember the way his own chest swelled with love and pride for the little creature he helped create.
Two years later, they did exactly the same with Albus. His older brother was under Molly's care, and they were so careful with the newborn, bringing him home and settling him on his crib. The brunet's tears intensified as he remembered how they joked about the differences already apparent between the boys; Albus continued sleeping peacefully after leaving his mother's arms, but James had started crying at the top of his young lungs. Young and potent, Ginny had joked and laughed.
And then there was their little girl, who was brought home by Floo, in the middle of the confusion of Hermione going into labor, Arthur falling sick and the boys being particularly fussy with all the restrictions they were submitted to at the hospital. Lily didn't appreciate it much, but didn't throw up, and stopped crying as soon and she was offered milk.
Taking deep breaths, Harry did all he could to stop the tears, rubbing them off with the back of his hands. They were all gone, he reminded himself. His wife and his children, the children he knew, all lost forever. But he wasn't, and it was time to start rebuilding his own life. That's what Ginny would've wanted, he told himself, but found little comfort in the knowledge.
Still sitting on the floor, he let his eyes wander around the dusty foyer, and rehearsed a smile as he remembered the time Draco had come to spend the weekend one of the times Ginny was away with the Holy Harpies. It'd been just before she'd gotten pregnant, and they were so eager they didn't make it past the stairs. They barely managed to stumble through the door after their walk through the park across the street, and the steps were surface enough.
The same steps Lily insisted in climbing as she was learning to walk, and where James had stumbled and gotten the last boo-boo Harry remembered. He could almost see the two of them sitting on the first step as Ginny cleaned the injury with a healing potion, and the boy had hidden his face on Harry's lap complaining it stung. He'd rubbed his hand on James's back, and shared an understanding smile with the redhead.
The steps he climbed up with Ginny on his arms when they returned home from their wedding, making her laugh and hold on tightly to his neck, afraid to fall. And where he threatened to do the same to Draco on day, getting himself hexed before having a fit of laughter.
His mind didn't seem able to settle in a single memory or, better yet, to neglect the events related to every inch of the house he knew so well, and he was well-aware it wouldn't be any different in any other room, for probably weeks.
Sniffing, he stood up and grabbed his suitcases, headed to his bedroom. The walk was slow as memories flooded though his mind, but he kept his feelings in check and reached his destination. After a quick spell to get rid of the dust, he unpacked and lay down across the bed, staring at the ceiling. That was where his plan came to an end. He had no idea what to do from now on.