A/N: In case it isn't clear, the last chapter went into Draco's flashback of the night before. This scene picks up at the same breakfast scene in chapter 34.


With Jipsy distracted, Harry got to play the part of cook. He made breakfast, using as little magic as possible, and immersed himself in the role of a stay-at-home dad. He made French toast and sausages, watching as Iece fed Draco, who nibbled from her plump fingers. The only way he could get her to eat, was to sit down wit them, dip everything in syrup, and race her to see who could eat the fastest. She caught on quickly, her little teeth chomping on sweet eggy bread as she grinned and rocked dancingly in her high chair.

"That's too much sugar, Harry," Draco reminded him. He'd gotten dressed to go into work, in one of his formal robes over a suit, and only made a slight face when Iece smeared his cheek with sticky toast. She was trying to get it into his mouth. "Eat. Yumm!" She insisted.

Harry agreed, but continued feeding her cut slices from his plate. She looked so alert and happy, her squeals reinforced that he was finally doing something right, so he kept on.

Draco had to cleanse his face and clothes of crumbs by magic. When he stood, bending down to kiss her head, an ejection of vomit spilled out of her mouth, ruining the moment.

Harry stood, but froze with huge eyes. He quickly caught Draco's warning look. Don't teach her to panic, it said.

Before the tremble in Iece's chin could turn into a full-blown cry, Draco started to take off his robe and rubbed her head. "It's okay, Nicee. This is what happens when your father feeds you junk food for breakfast. And too much of it." He reprimanded Harry while speaking to her. "I'll clean it up."

"No, you're on your way to work. I'll get it." Harry took off the apron he was still wearing, and wiped her face. "Sorry, sweetheart. This is my fault."

"You're trying too hard."

"Just go. Trust me. This is a great opportunity. I'll get her in the bath and out again before Jipsy finds out. Come home when you take lunch and see if I don't have this kitchen tidy and her watching Disney cartoons. I've got this."

Draco didn't look convinced, but he let Harry kiss him and see him off anyway.

After vomiting, she became clingy and whiny. She cried after Draco, but didn't want to let go of Harry. He tried to sit her in a tub of warm water with plenty of soapy bubbles to play with. He was careful to only fill it with a few inches of water, but she screamed the minute he turned his back to find her clothes. The only way to get her calm was to convince her that he wasn't leaving her by herself. He climbed into the tub with her, clothes and all, and added more water so that she snuggled facing away from him, watching her toys bob along in the suds. At first she moped, fingers in her mouth and sniffles, expressing a moodiness that wasn't there before. But Harry bent over her head as he washed her toes and told her the story of five piggies going to market.

It was one of the few childhood songs he knew, and he only knew that because he recalled his Aunt Petunia telling it to Dudley over and over again. He realized he must've been pretty young, Iece's age even, to recall such a thing. How difficult it must've been for Aunt Petunia to attend to two babies at once, one wanted, the other dumped in her lap.

He quickly put it out of his mind and started making her toys squirt water at her. No matter what lousy childhood he had, he wasn't going to taint hers with it. When she began to laugh, he knew she was feeling better.

Because he hadn't been able to find her clothes before bathing, and she wouldn't let him put her down, he carried her, wrapped in a towel, from room to room, looking for her storage of clothing. Draco and Jipsy kept things organized, and in her room, he couldn't make sense of drawers and cabinets filled with training knickers, socks, and pajamas. To simplify everything, he put her in one of his undershirts, which looked more like a sloppy gown on her, and gave her a sippy cup of organic apple juice. While he had her still, he made an effort to tie her hair in a ponytail. It stood at the top of her head and sprouted out like a fountain. A little crooked, but cute.

"Look how beautiful you are." He picked her up and took her to look in the bathroom mirror with him. She pointed at their reflection and grinned, not letting the sippy cup leave her teeth. As always, the contrast of their hair, became their strongest features when they were reflected this way. And as always, it made him search her face, as if to seek proof that she did have attributes of his. Her smile, her cheeks. She even had a crazy way of wrinkling her brow, that made him see himself in her. He thought he could see his mother in her as well. Assured and proud, he carried her back to the kitchen where he began to tidy things up.

He planned to make some special dinners over the next few days, so he made a list of things and took Iece to a muggle grocery store. For some reason, when he tried to transfigure the undershirt to look more like a dress, or at least real clothing that she might wear in public, it kept going back out of shape. The collar fell over her tiny shoulders, leaving one bare even when he pinned it. The hem covered her feet, so he cut it. She looked like an orphaned elf, making him laugh at the alarm Draco would feel if he saw her this way. An absolute street urchin. He didn't want to risk stronger magic, so he left it. He bundled her up and they went shopping.

People stared, but his smile never left his face, as he watched her twist in the cart, to look at everything passing by her. Her hand gripped his sleeve until she got used to the cart and realized he wasn't going anywhere. She looked positively muggle, to his way of thinking. She reminded him of one of those kids with their finger up their nose, a dirty face, whose mom was so busy with a million decisions and multi-tasking, that she still wore a house dress and slippers. The kind he saw when he was little, on the few excursions he got to attend to, when the Dursely's did their shopping. Draco would have a heart attack if he could see this. Harry had envied those aloof kids in their buggies. Someone loved them and took care of them, and built entire lives around them. Now, instead of house dresses and slippers, exhausted mothers wore yoga pants, pajama leggings, and flip-flops. He wondered if he could talk Draco into playing the part with him.

For some reason, he saw him imitating some of the women. Maybe it had to do with the whole gender bullshit they were going through. But if Draco came off his high horse long enough to have fun, he could totally pull off lazy pony-tail braids and sloppy, oversized T-shirts with yoga pants. He'd make a great social media mommy, walking around in some big super-center, being a twat with an attitude like all the other disgruntled shoppers.

As silly as the image was – Draco's hair wasn't even long enough to braid – he caught himself having a fun daydream, and gave Iece the credit for it. She really made him happy.

Her eyes grew large and wondrous as she sat in their cart, a very rare treat, as Jipsy or Draco had always managed the delivery of their supplies. He pushed the cart, amused at how being in close proximity to other people, quieted her, and made it obvious that she wasn't used to people. Until recently, Draco never let her out of his sight. There were no playmates, no play dates, no neighbor's children. Their weren't even any cousins or relatives to intrude and expose her to the most basic social jostling. Just her dads. That bothered him, so he made it a point to watch her interact. They had been on the run for so long, he and Draco hadn't allowed anyone to get close enough for her to interact with.

People appeared to be amazing to her. She pointed and looked to him, when she didn't have words for what she wanted to say. He thought he'd be facing a tantrum or two, with a two year-old surrounded by a wonderland of colorful foods, candies, toys, and options. She did whine a little at the things she couldn't have, but whenever their cart neared another customer, she forgot being upset and stared open-mouthed at all the new differences that strangers brought into her awareness. It was as if her mind was fully registering that people came in all shapes, colors, and sizes, and you never knew what you were getting when you met someone new. He could practically see her entranced mind learning.

He made a note to consult a specialist over her social and school development. Did he even want her to attend an all-Wizard school? He didn't like the exclusivity that went with it, but he knew her magic needed to be supported. He wanted her to brush elbows with different people, so she'd have an appreciation for all walks of life. However they did it, they'd have to balance it. If she went to school with wizards, then he'd find her a muggle sport or activity, to make sure she befriended them. Muggle kids were already learning things to prepare them for preschool, at her age. Wizarding children waited a little longer before entering a formal educational structure, but they were equally prepared by tutors, siblings, or even nannies. Everyone had some kind of support base that let them encounter other kids every day. And even though Draco had taught her lots of things, it was definitely time to make arrangements for her to be around other children. But the idea of her body undergoing such drastic changes, stopped these thoughts immediately.

Keeping her bound to home and schooled was not a solution to him. Would that amount to hiding her or protecting her? It would only set her back socially, and she had to be present in the world, for her life. He remembered the shy kids at Hogwarts, the really awkward ones who seemed apologetic just for existing and taking up space. Shyness is really fear, it's just touted as something modest and cute in kids, but it really isn't. No baby is born shy. They learn to go inside themselves. He too, learned to keep his head down, lest he attract punishment from any of the Dursely's. It was possible that if he'd had no magic, he would've stayed a meek and suppressed person, raised under such conditions. He couldn't let that happen to her. They had to find a way to protect her without hiding her. She had to grow up proud and unfazed by the curse.

He made himself stop thinking along these lines. It caused his mood to grow heavy, and anxiously wander to the hope of contacting Snape. A tiny thought sneaked in. If he had caught a glimpse of Snape at the train explosion, and Snape was clearly aware of him on some level. Then he didn't want Harry to find him. He didn't want to be known and involved publicly.

Well tough shit. I'm all out of ideas and my daughter needs you, you cranky old bastard. And if you are alive, you owe me an apology for letting me see you die like that. For letting me think it was real. I'm not giving up. I'm not backing down from you. Not until you tell me to my face, and even then, I'll hound you to death. I know you've got a cure up those fucking iron robes by now. Isn't that why you haven't given up on me? I fucking named my daughter after you because I love you, you piece of shit. I will find you, and I will kiss that beautiful, perfectly alive face of yours.

On his way home, he saw a public pool filled with kids, and had to stop himself from compulsively parking and paying for admission for both of them. He so wanted her to get her first taste of fun and splashing and other people. Groceries in the car were the only things that stopped him. But it gave him an exciting idea.

By three, they were home and Harry quickly put everything away and set about transforming one of her plastic balls into a kiddie pool. He used one of the generic wands that Jipsy kept for him, he still hadn't recovered his from the Malfoy's. It had probably been confiscated by the Ministry by now, and he wasn't in any Hurry to get it back. He'd lost so many wands by now, he was learning the trick of making just about any replacement work for him just fine.

The ball was pink and translucent. Its spherical shape was challenging to deal with, but once he figured out that all he needed was the material, and he could rip it, let the air out, and twist it however he wanted. He found a bowl-like shape that he was pleased with. Then he puffed out the edges like rows of inflated tubes. He floated the whole thing out onto their private terrace. There, in a smattering of sunlight and all the botanical scaping Draco could spell to remind him of the lavish gardens he grew up with, he filled it with water. In hindsight, he wondered if Mrs. Weasley knew about Draco's love of plants, and if that's why she'd brought one to Iece's hospital room. Draco never really talked about plants, but he always seemed to have them around him. The thought evaporated as quickly as it had come.

They were many stories up, with a unit that took up a quarter of the whole floor. They had a great view of the city and countryside further beyond. The building had a pool, and there were units with private ones, but they loved this view and a pool hadn't interested them at the time. Settling into the place had come on the heels of so much stress, they knew they'd be able to get any extra accommodations they hadn't thought of, later.

Harry got it all set up. Draco came home for lunch, to the sight of Iece still in the undershirt and Harry in rolled up pant legs, in the pool together. They were having a splash fight. He walked in at exactly the moment that Iece squeezed her eyes shut and thrashed her arms as hard as she could to get the water to cover Harry the way he got it to drench her. The undershirt clung to her, and she rather looked like a giant, unfortunate and hilarious sperm, with her hair done up, making her head seem bigger than it was. She was nothing but belly and head, swaddled in wet cotton. Sunlight brought out the sparkle in the whitest parts of her hair, and lit the moment in a way that arrested Draco.

He came through an open set of French doors, having let himself back in without their realization. He'd left early, and quite foul, as he'd spent the entire time avoiding others who wanted to talk about Harry, and who kept asking about his father. Finally, he had to confront Banks and Mr. Weasley by telling them that no, he couldn't get Harry to talk to them and he didn't care if a trial was inevitable. In fact, he had so many distractions going on, he needed to take some time off, and left them where they stood. When he stepped onto the terrace, the last few hours were knocked from his awareness as the sight of Iece and Harry took over. They were dancing in the sun, amid droplets that held rainbows, dripping from their hair and clothes.

Her laughter was so hardy and strong, it sounded like it came from a child much older. It was the sound of vindicated innocence. Nothing that happy was bad. Nothing that sweet, had anything to be ashamed of. She looked every bit of Malfoy, yet here she was dancing in the light. She looked every bit like Lucius, yet she was good and her joy sprouted like the water around her, in a fountain spray. He realized that it wasn't just her happiness, her dad making her happy, but it was her magic. He could feel it. Somehow, the way Harry engaged her, naturally activated it. He'd have to remind him not to get her so excited. And what the hell was she wearing?

He gave them time to notice him, but kept clear of their splashing contest. When their looks clearly expected him to join in, he made it a point to not crack a smile and held to the firm indication that they were having fun all wrong. Pretending he wanted nothing to do with the spectacle before him, he turned his back on them and headed back through the doors. Harry saw through the act, and sent a splash arching over the side of the pool at him. It was borne on magic, and reached him at a volume that smacked him forward, drenching his whole body from behind.

Draco needed a second to process the cold shock. He let his briefcase fall, wiped his eyes, then turned to Iece and Harry with vengeance. He calculated quickly, producing his wand, and took off at a sprint. By the time his feet hit the water, his depth transfiguration extended the bottom of the pool, making his splash bigger than normal physics would allow. His full body had time and space to completely submerge as water rained down on the other two for a few seconds. He broke the surface to applause and squeals, and quickly let the bottom return to normal. Iece was now in Harry's arms, and Draco mentally kicked himself for not taking into account that she could be drug under. But she didn't seem fazed. She shook the water from her face and hurriedly struggled out of Harry's grip to get to him.

"What a cool idea!" Harry let her go.

"Yeah, we have to teach her to hold her breath."

"Breath? She'll be swimming in no time. That's my new mission."

They began a game of coaxing her to hold her breath and dunking her. Harry thought that she would need a magical spray of air blasted at her to trigger the instinct. But when he exaggerated taking a huge gulp of air and sucking it in, she did the same. When he let it out, so did she. They extended the depth of the pool by a few feet to practice. Soon, in stages, he had her looking at him from underwater before quickly dashing back up. Draco was amazed at how fast she learned.

They played until she began rubbing her eyes and showing signs of tiring. Things calmed down enough for them to have tea pool-side, and let her babble to her toys in the water. After a while, she wanted to lay against Harry and use her sippy cup.

Draco took the opportunity to ask, "So you couldn't transfigure a decent swimsuit for her?" He had ditched his formal clothing and transfigured his dress shirt and trousers into something more "beachy."

"No point. There's nothing wrong with letting her play in my shirt. And now that you mention it, where the hell are her clothes? I had to take her to the store like this."

"You took her out in public like that?"

Harry smirked. "She was adorable. Not everyone is as hung up on appearance as you."

"Some might consider that neglectful. We don't need the publicity."

"Muggles don't care. They let kids be kids."

"Muggles don't live with the constant threat of scandal and attack, now do they?" He shook his head. "You're going to look back on this and be appalled."

"So where's her stuff? All I found were toys and underclothes."

"Jipsy and I developed a system. All of her day clothes are in the doll house. The big one."

Harry sat up. "Um, what?"

"You heard me. Jipsy doesn't use her room much, or she doesn't need a lot of space, so she's agreed to let the doll house stay in there."

Harry needed a moment to compose his words. "You're telling me, that you brought that thing from your parent's house, and set it up in our home?"

"It's not like it's a dark artifact. It was there all through my childhood. Not like the bracelet. My mother always planned on having a daughter to pass it on to. It's been in the family for a long time. Besides, Iece doesn't play with it, she's too little for it right now, it's for storage."

"How is it for storage? It's a fu- It's an exact replica of your parent's manor."

"We shrink her clothes and place them in there. She has so many, and she outgrows them so fast. My mother just keeps shopping and sending things. It's the perfect spot. When we want to dress her, we use an incantation to display what's available, in front of the mirror in her room. It comes right through."

"Okay, I guess I know that now."

"Lots of decisions get made around here without you. That's what happens when you're not here."

"Don't rub it in."

"It's just a toy. It's one of the few things from my side of the family that she can have. I was just as thorough about checking it as I was the bracelet."

Harry clamped his mouth shut, lest words that were meant for Lucius come out. When Draco got through explaining the system and incantation, it was ingenious.

"If you want to inspect it yourself, just visit Jipsy's room. I think she plays with it, shrinks herself down and roams the halls talking to the paintings. Maybe she dresses up in those god-awful stoles and throws parties in there. I've heard noises. It opens up and the roof is removable in sections."

Harry rocked Iece. "I bet it comes with minature ghosts."

"Of course it does. Those are peaceful ghosts. Most of them children, lost in playing. They've played in there without bothering anyone for over two hundred years. Why would I kick them out? I wonder if they're good company for her. She might have her own elf friends over, though she knows she's not to bring anyone here without our permission first."

With this, Harry remembered who he was talking to, and the long tradition of magic and wizardry missing from his own childhood, that Draco must've grown up with. He would've been accustomed to ghosts before he ever got to Hogwarts. He made a mental note to interview the ghosts in the dollhouse before letting Iece play with them. His time at Hogwarts had taught him that most of them were harmless people on another level of life, who weren't ready to move on.

His daughter's head started to droop. Draco swooped to take her from him.

"Oh no you don't. You've missed your nap, and it's too early to sleep. I won't be able to get you down later."

His idea of keeping her awake, was to let her help with fixing sandwiches for all of them. Harry let him, postponing his gourmet plans. He was content to relax after all the pool spontaneity. It made him just as happy to see them all working in the kitchen together.

Iece was allowed to stand on a chair as Draco worked from behind her. With a gleam in his eye, Harry dusted off an old trick that he and Dudley used to indulge in. He knew that it would be new to Draco, so he was especially pleased with himself when he presented tall drinking glasses, lime sherbet, and the muggle soft drink, Sprite, to his family.

His eagerness infected Iece with curiosity, and she perked up to what he was doing. She held a slice of cheese in both hands and leaned forward as her distracted bite missed the cheese, but settled for sucking a corner of it, as it wrapped around her palm. Draco looked more weary than impressed. He knew that Harry was about to expose him to some worshiped childhood ritual that was neither relevant or beneficial to their current situation.

"Haven't you learned your lesson?" Draco asked. "She's already puked once today."

"What about you? You're the one who gives her cheese in both hands."

"Harry, if you knew your daughter as well as I do, you'd know that she's even-handed."

Harry gasped, "She's ambidextrous?"

"No. She has to feel balanced. If she has finger food in one hand, she's not happy until her other hand is full too. She eats better that way. It's psychological."

"Oh my god."

"It's only one slice, torn in half. I cut everything so that she can do this. That's why she likes nuggets so well. When you have a tiny mouth and hands, it's easy food."

Harry choked back the urge to turn her trait into a commentary on Malfoy greed, and spooned the sherbet into the glasses.

"Now watch," he changed the subject. "Don't take your eyes off of it."

When he poured the Sprite over the sherbet, Iece poked the glass nearest her. "Is kweem?"

"Kinda." Effervescent carbonation liquefied the sherbet, turning from clear to mint green and frothing up the glass. He poured until the froth bubbled at the rim, then gave Draco a spoon and a straw. Before Iece could stick her cheesy fingers in it, he filled her mouth with a teaspoon full.

The taste of sugary lime lit up her face. Her tongue, pink and small, smacked for more. To him, the taste reminded him of daiquiri ice cream, and was as close to strange magic as a muggle kid like Dudley, was likely to come, in terms of food. It has always been heaven to him, the few times they'd snuck into the kitchen to try it. The first time had been a treat at Dud's birthday party. The next few times were stolen contraband moments that Dud's shared with him in the cupboard under the stairs. They were some of the rare times when his cousin actually shut himself in with him, and there on his bed, they gulped bubbling sherbet while the Dursley's were sound asleep.

If he thought too much about it, he realized that he treasured what passed for friendship and civility from Dudley back then. They often got along when no one else Dudley knew was around. As shitty as his childhood was, Harry salvaged the best of it and was trying to share this pitiful significance with his daughter.

"Mmm…" Iece liked it so much, she stretched her tongue to lick as much as she could from the smears on her face. Her cheese fell to the floor, forgotten.

"Great, now she isn't going to touch her sandwich."

"Well, you said you wanted her awake."

"Awake, not bouncing off the walls."

Draco still hadn't touched the glass meant for him. Harry filled his spoon. "I think someone isn't convinced." He held a protective palm under the drip of the spoon as he turned to Draco. "Come on. Taste. Join us."

"That looks disgusting."

"You've had worse things in your mouth."

"Not really. And not when I've personally inspected and lathered you up, myself. Why do you think I shower with you?"

Harry paused. "What? I was talking about Mrs. Weasley's egg and rice casserole, what are you talking about?"

"Oh."

"You'll love it. It'll make you admit that muggles have their own magic."

"Nothing will ever -"

Harry advanced. Draco, too dignified to spit without compromising his principles, waited to be disgusted. A second later, fear and uneasiness smoothed into obvious relief.

"That is, decidedly, not magic. It's not bad. But it's not magic."

Harry's grin twisted, satisfied. He knew Draco must've liked it more than he let on. Iece clapped her hands and strung a whole sentence of words together, as if she really had something exciting to share. But the only thing they could agree she'd said, is, "Is kweem belly..." something, "… belly, … gooooooood!"

She rubbed her stomach the way Draco showed her when something was yummy. She turned in the chair, wobbly but maintaining her balance. In the space between her forefinger, and Draco's sleeve, a spark of zig-zagging light crossed the distance. There was a pop, and Draco straightened, biting down on the charge.

Harry lowered the spoon he was holding. "Oh no."

"Oh yeah," Draco said through gritting teeth. "It hurt too."

Harry grabbed her, trying not to laugh, and to muster up some sympathy for Draco. "Now seems like a great time to watch a movie. What's our favorite?" He carried her away, leaving Draco to clean up the mess.


A/N:
Next chapter is ready. See, this is why I can't write a completed story and release it chapter by chapter. As soon as it's done, it's gotta be shared. I don't know what I'm going to do when I have to go back to writing my novels the old fashioned way, in total isolation. This was originally one single chapter, but things got intense and I had to break it into two parts. Enjoy chapter 36! :-)