After all the introductions, Potter had taken the boys outside to play in the garden. Draco had opted to explore the house when Potter asked if he wanted to come.

"Ok, have fun then. You're free to look anywhere you want, except the fifth floor. The only thing up there is my room, and no one's allowed in there, not even the boys."

Draco thought that a little extreme, but figured Potter was strange like that. He probably had nightmares, just like everyone else in the War did. Draco had woken in tears many times himself. It was embarrassing, something he didn't want his family to see.

Draco started out in his room. It looked to be the largest guest room, or an old unused room for a younger son. It was nicely furnished in Slytherin colors, with pale grey silk on the walls and deep green velvet hangings on the bed and windows. The two windows looked out over the gardens behind the house. There was also an attached bathroom with a shower and a claw-footed tub, a courtesy he hadn't expected.

He wandered down the halls, poking his head into rooms as he went. His bedroom was on the fourth floor, along with Teddy's and Reggie's. Teddy's room must once have belonged to Sirius Black, the only Gryffindor in the family, since it was done up in bright shades of red and gold. Toys cluttered the floor, and on the wall there was a picture of a tired but happily waving Lupin and a young women with pink hair he assumed was his cousin Nymphadora.

Reggie's must have had Regulus Black's old room. The colors were the same as in Draco's room, with grey silk and velvet hangings, but there was also a faded Slytherin banner on the wall, along with and old picture of a Quidditch team dressed in green and silver. The caption listed the slight, dark haired boy in the center with the Cup as Regulus Black, Seeker. A child's broom was propped in the corner. Unlike Teddy's room, Reggie's was clean and tidy.

Draco continued to explore the house. The third floor had mostly guest bedrooms and appeared completely unused. The first floor, which he had seen earlier, had only the entry hall, a formal parlor, Floo room, and kitchen. The second floor, however, contained all the workspaces and more general use rooms. Along with the sitting room he had met the boys in, Draco found a potions lab, several offices including Potter's, with papers on the desk and an empty perch for a bird that was away, a couple shielded ritual rooms and a dueling chamber. At the end of the hall was archway with a small staircase that led to the library, a circular room several stories tall with a spiral staircase in the center to reach the upper story. That was where Potter found Draco several hours later, browsing the books.

"I thought I might find you in one of the labs, already setting up an experimental potion or something," he chuckled. He seemed to be alright with Draco thumbing through ancient tomes belonging to the Black Inheritance. Draco wondered why that was. Just what made this Potter so different from the hot-tempered boy with a hatred of pure-bloods he had known at school?

"I didn't want to impose," he answered off-handedly. "I would like to have use of one of the labs, if you would allow it."

"Of course, Malfoy. I hardly brew anyways. I may be a decent brewer now, but I still hate it," he rubbed the back of his head and gave Draco a lopsided smile that did funny things to Draco's stomach. "Residual feelings from school, I guess."

For the life of him, Draco could not figure Potter out. He acted like he was happy to have Draco in his home, like he was a long lost cousin or an old friend. Where had his mortal enemy gone?

"Why?"

-0-

Harry frowned.

"Why what?"

"Why are you acting this way? You're my prison guard for the next two years, my jailer. Why be so… so nice? Merlin, Potter, you're acting like we're friends or something!"

Ah. That's right, Malfoy hadn't seen him since the Battle, except for the day he gave his testimony. He didn't know what had happened during the Battle and during the… and after the Battle. Malfoy didn't know how much his values had changed in those two years, how much everything had changed, other than gaining two children and a slew of noble titles. He was still trying to reconcile this new Harry with the one from school: the brash, short tempered Gryffindor boy against the calm, protective, single parent.

"A lot has changed, Malfoy. I've changed. The way I was in school… that's not the way I want to be. Being a Gryffindor, honest and courageous in every moment of life, that won't help me in the real world. Not in my world, anyways.

"I don't know if we're friends. It's really up to you, since it takes two people to maintain a friendship. But I don't want to be enemies. I can't treat you as an enemy if I trust you with my children. They mean everything to me, and I will do anything to protect them. At the very least, we're family, of a sort." Malfoy looked dubious at that statement. Harry huffed. "C'mon then, if you don't believe me."

Though locked a door at the top of the library stairs was the heritage of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Harry tapped it with his wand, murmuring the password: "Toujours Pur."

Inside, he led Malfoy to the Tapestry Room, which contained the Black Family Tapestry and the portraits of the last Lord and Lady Black, Orion and Walburga. Harry had made his peace with the Lady Walburga Black shortly after moving in to Grimmauld Place. It had been she, in fact, you taught him most of the old noble and wizarding genealogy he knew. Harry pointed to the name Cygnus Black III, and followed the line through Narcissa Black Malfoy and Lucius Abraxas Malfoy and down to Draco Lucius Malfoy.

"There. You're a scion of the House of Black. By blood if not by name. As Lord of this house, I claim you as part of my family."

Malfoy touched a finger gently to his mother and father's names.

"But you don't even have enough of the blood to be on here, Potter," he said softly. Harry shook his head.

"Wrong. I'm on the Tapestry, even if I don't have the blood." He moved his finger back to Cygnus, then over to his brother Orion Pollux Black, the elder son, and traced a new line, one he knew by heart. This one went from Orion and Walburga to their younger son Regulus Arcturus Black. Harry stopped there, on the curious circular formation of the names of Reggie's fathers. He was hesitant to point it out to Malfoy, but Harry hoped he didn't know who the third name truly was.

"Thomas Marvolo Riddle, Jr. Is that…?"

Damn.

-0-

Draco was horrified. Tom Riddle. Lord Voldemort. Reggie's third father was the Dark Lord himself.

"How-"

"Don't. Finish that question." Potter's voice was as cold and sharp as a steel sword. "I've told you all I'm willing to about the circumstances of Reggie's birth. He knows he can't tell anyone about even having three sires, much less who the third is. It's unheard of and frankly should be impossible. It would have been, if Tom and I didn't have such magically powerful-" He abruptly shut his mouth and shook his head. "Just… don't ask, alright?"

"Ok." Draco was burning with curiosity, but he knew prying would get him nothing but a very angry host.

Potter turned back to the Tapestry, tracing the circle of names softly, lost in memories for a moment.

"Kreacher," he called.

"Yes, Master."

"Show Mr. Malfoy to the kitchen. We'll be eating in there tonight. I'll be down shortly, I wish to speak with the Lady Walburga first." He turned and bowed slightly to a portrait of an older woman with a haughty demeanor and some vestiges of youthful beauty, who smiled kindly at him.

"Very well, Master. If Mr. Malfoy would follow Kreacher please," the old elf bowed to Potter before leading the way out of the room.

-0-

Talking with Walburga always cheered Harry these days, a drastic change from when the Order had lived in Grimmauld Place. After the death of both sons, she had become despondent. When Harry brought Reggie home and introduced him as her rightful grandson, she had been overjoyed. It had only helped that Harry needed someone to tutor him in noble history and etiquette.

Harry was glad she had come around. Reggie needed to know his family, and Orion and Walburga were the only relatives he could speak to, besides Harry. His other fathers were long dead. One grandfather was a Muggle, one grandmother a Squib who had never sat for a portrait. All the portraits of Harry's family had been lost in the destruction of Potter Manor during the first War, while his parents had been in hiding.

Reggie, Teddy, Harry. None of them knew much about their families. They would make a new family together.

Malfoy was quiet all through dinner, clearly thinking about all he had learned that afternoon. When the boys finished and ran off to the gardens again, Harry stayed with him in the kitchen and had Kreacher put on a pot of coffee for them. Even without Legillimency, Harry could see the questions tumbling through his mind. After a long moment of staring into his coffee, Malfoy found his voice.

"You said you needed me to help out if I stay here. I assume you meant with the boys?" Harry nodded.

"Yeah, if you had proved trustworthy. If my dragon accepts you, you must be alright," he grinned at Malfoy. "I'm gone all day most days for the next few months. I leave them with the elves, but you saw how well that goes over sometimes," another grin. "I can't count the number of times Kreacher or Winky has had to call me home in the middle of the day because of one of their fits. They like you, so I'm hoping they'll accept you as family enough while I'm gone. If that's alright with you?"

"That's fine. I can't let you treat me like family without doing something for you, too. I can't promise how good I am with children, though. I've never had to take care of any."

"You'll be fine. You can help Reggie with his flying. He wants to be a Seeker, just like Regulus and I were. You could take them both up to the library and read to them, or teach them about Potions. They both love to learn, but I'm not the best for Potions work. Or tell Reggie stories about being a Slytherin. He's guaranteed to be Sorted there. Teddy's likely to be a Gryffindor, and he loves my stories, but I can't do the same for Reggie." Harry looked down, slightly ashamed at his lacking as a parent. "There's a lot I can't do for them. I was raised by Muggles, so I have no idea how to raise a child in the nobility and teach them our ways." He snorted. "Hell, I was taught by a dead woman's portrait! Lady Walburga's a fantastic help, especially with Black Family history, but she's a little… out of date, shall we say."

"Of course." Malfoy touched his arm gently. "I'll do what I can. I'm just so grateful to you for agreeing to this… arrangement. I don't think I could have made it back out of Azkaban, not really." He was quiet for a moment, then: "So what do you do during the day? Do you have a job? I always figured you as one to have some work or 'real occupation,' never content to just be a Lord."

"I spend all day at the Ministry. I'm working with a few key members of the Wizengamot on some major reforms, especially on the care of magical children without parents. The War left a lot of orphans, and they shouldn't be raised by Muggles. I was, and so was Tom. It didn't do any good for either of us." Harry laughed. "I used to not think much of pure-bloods who didn't work, but that was before I became the single most important member of the Wizengamot. It's like working two jobs, and add the boys to that?" he shook his head. "Just no time and no need for one more."

"The most important…? Merlin, Potter, just how many titles do you hold?"

Harry sighed. He hated that question. Wasn't it enough to be the Boy-Who-Lived, the Chosen One, and the Savior of the Wizarding World? Adding more made him seem arrogant and self-important. He didn't want to answer Malfoy out loud, it made him feel like a braggart, so he waved his wand and conjured one of his business cards, handing it over for Malfoy to read.

Lord Harrison James Potter, Earl of Gryffindor

House of Potter

House of Black

House of Peverell

Regent, House of Gaunt

Earl Regent of Slytherin

"You're an Earl?! I didn't know we still had those in the wizarding world!" Malfoy's eyebrows had gone up so far they disappeared into his pale fringe. "What's it mean, 'Regent'?"

"Those titles don't belong to me by blood. They belong to Reggie. Rather than have the estates held in stasis, I hold them in his stead until he turns seventeen. That way, I can make business decisions. The title may be grand, but the last ones to claim the Slytherin title was the House of Gaunt and they wasted every Knut of the Gaunt and Slytherin fortunes and I've no idea if there are any properties left." Harry rubbed his forehead, right across the famous, faded scar. "The boy'll be a bloody Earl while he's still in school, the least I can do is make sure he has something to live off of."

"The least you can do? Potter, you've changed your life for these boys. It sounds like you're doing everything you can and then some." Malfoy gave him searching look. "Go to bed, Potter. You look exhausted." Harry snorted.

"Gee, thanks, you're so kind." He got up and stretched out his back. "But I think I will turn in. Kreacher will wake you for breakfast in the morning, so I'll see you then before I go to the Ministry." Harry moved to leave, but turned back at the doorway. "You know, Malfoy, having you around may turn out better than any of us expected." He shrugged. "Goodnight, Malfoy."

As Harry walked down the hall, he heard a quiet return of, "Goodnight, Potter."