KEYnote: Whelp this turned from, oh fun fluff idea, to oh, me good gods, I want a romcom. And Draco will be very bi in this and the pairing I'm imagining is the slowest of burns. Horcrux deaths will happen off screen, and yes, Sirius will be a character in this, and no, Sirius is not the pairing with Draco. Neither am I doing a threesome. Please enjoy as we free fall off a cliff :D
Chapter 3 - Scars
oOo
2005
oOo
Following Astoria around the continent as she explored the world outside of Britain had been all Draco had known after the war. They had fallen into bed one night after crossing paths with each other in a muggle pub in Dublin, and they kept falling.
They had never looked back.
But when she died before turning twenty-four, all the world lost any trace of colour.
Draco hadn't lasted a week alone after her funeral. He turned up at the Ministry looking for a job; they had accepted his application out of pity for his wife's passing. No one in public office at the time had been otherwise sympathetic to an Ex-Death Eater whose father was imprisoned for every crime under the sun, especially not the Malfoy heir who had no money left to speak of.
The only thing Draco ended up inheriting from his father was disgrace and a manor no one, including himself and his mother, wanted to live in.
It was therefore, only the lingering goodwill left for his late wife that his application was considered, his scores had been just high enough to edge him over the line into the Auror's program where he found himself hated but just about everyone. It was understandable, truly, Draco had been on the wrong side of the war, a villian who had survived when many more innocents had not.
Except for Potter.
Where everyone else refused to even acknowledge his existence, Potter–of all people–stepped forward to train him.
Potter had, of course, sailed through the Auror's program; he was on record for being the youngest fully initiated Auror in the books. And he had earned it.
Potter made Draco earn his place, too. And despite the other man's taunts and strictness, he gave what no one else but Astoria had ever given to Draco; a fair chance.
A chance he would not squander, not when he hadn't much else to live for.
oOo
1986
oOo
Harry wasn't used to waking up warm. But when he finally mustered the courage to open his eyes he found that he wasn't alone.
The magic man, Draco, from last night… Harry was lying on his chest.
They were in the woods, yet the man still looked like a prince. All white hair, sharp points on his face, and expensive clothing.
Harry burrowed down a little deeper into the warmth. No one ever held him. He didn't have any friends because unlike Dudley, Harry hadn't been allowed to go to school.
He had no one but the snakes in the garden who whispered to one another of the mice they caught and the sun bathing spots they liked best.
Being held like this, it was nice.
Harry had always believed someone would come back to save him.
He just couldn't believe it had actually happened.
He worried that Draco would change his mind.
So he would be the best, he would be the most well-behaved boy anyone had ever met.
He would have to be.
Or he would be given back to the Dursleys.
oOo
Draco woke to Harry pretending to be asleep on his chest.
He sighed, running a hand gently through the child's messy curls, they were softy than they looked, if greasy.
"Come on, Harry, time to wake up."
The boy sprang out of his arms as if burned.
Draco didn't comment, pretending like this was normal.
As if he wasn't a time travelling ex-Death Eater who had kidnapped the Chosen One.
Draco looked up at the sky, he wasn't a morning person, but he had enough adrenaline to get him moving.
He looked at Harry who stood painfully still, waiting for Draco's judgement.
It was awful.
Lucius Malfoy was an awful person, but he had not been an awful father. Until he got to Hogwarts, his father had spoiled him rotten. And it wasn't until the end of his fourth year when the reality of Voldemort had moved in with them that Draco learned what it meant to be afraid.
But he never had the fear that little Harry was obviously experiencing right now.
Fearing to disappoint his parents was not the same as fearing his guardians reprisal for some perceived wrong or imperfection.
"How about we get cleaned up before we eat?" Draco said, breaking the unnatural silence.
Harry's shoulders rounded, nodding his head in answer.
Draco pulled his wand, they were near enough of river for now to take advantage of and they could relocate without too much worry.
"I'm going to cast a warming charm on us, is that alright, Harry?" Draco asked, noticing that the child seemed to brighten anytime he heard his first name.
As if his family had never used his name.
"A warming charm?" Harry asked, voice hushed.
Draco nodded, kneeling back down to show Harry his wand, "A warming charm, it's a magic charm that will keep us warm when we go for a swim. Can you swim, Harry?"
The boy mumbled something as he bobbed his head, gaze dropping.
"I'm sorry, what was that?"
Harry twisted his hands together as he said, "I know how to swim. I learned when Dudley pushed me off a bridge."
Draco had to take a breath, wondering what the hell Dumbledore was thinking when Potter's relatives quite clearly could have killed him before Voldemort was ever resurrected.
"Well, I'll be with you, so you won't get hurt no matter how deep the water is," Draco said.
Harry's smile was brighter than sunrise.
Draco performed the spell on himself, exaggerating the wand motion and the Latin, before turning his wand on Harry and doing the same only slower.
Harry was delighted by the lights and the warmth against the morning chill.
Draco took off his outer robe while Harry carefully took off his clothes as if they were precious, leaving on his boxers. Draco held out his hand as they walked down the slope toward the river.
The water still felt cold but it didn't touch his core body temperature. Harry took to the water like a seal as they waded out into the river. He kept hold of Draco's hand though clearly he didn't need the safety lane.
Chest deep in the slow flowing water, his shoes finding purchase amongst the stones, Draco helped Harry tip back to scrub his hair.
Thanks to his wife, Draco always travelled with hygiene products with him.
Okay, maybe not wholly because of Astoria. Draco loved to travel, but he hated being dirty.
Harry was having a blast, until he let out a hiss of pain. Draco caught Harry in the water to steady him. The child had been scrubbing his own back when he made the sound, but Draco's grip caused Harry to make another sound, he froze.
Harry swallowed the sound and schooled his face.
Draco wasn't having it as he coaxed the boy to turn in the water to see his back. He found long slashing scars and inflamed scabs.
Horror.
Pure horror filled Draco.
"What–"
Harry twisted away from him, wading just out of arm's reach as he said, "I was bad."
Draco told himself that murder wasn't the answer.
Murder wasn't the answer.
Murder.
Wasn't.
The.
Answer.
In most cases, he couldn't help the after thought.
"Your aunt and uncle did that to you?" he asked, voice strained.
Harry stared at him with those big green eyes as he nodded.
Those wounds were fresh, or fresh enough to not have healed yet and Draco didn't have enough medical supplies with him to keep that many injuries clean, much less heal them.
"Are you okay?" Draco asked.
Harry nodded.
"Come on," he said to the child who Draco had to protect from literally everyone.
Death Eaters.
Ministry.
Dumbledore.
Muggles.
Most of the wizarding world.
Draco's mind was spinning.
Harry's health wasn't just bad, it was at the level that Draco had needed to bring other children to the hospital.
Only, that wasn't an option. He didn't have the right papers for a child, he didn't even know if his contact who forged the papers was in business.
And since he wasn't currently employed as an Auror, there was no reason for anyone to help him.
His current muggle law enforcement passport was dated in the future, proving that it was a falsified document.
As for the wizarding world…
It was Harry Potter, and if the entire wizarding world wasn't aflame with "Potter Missing," then the Order Phoenix members would be on guard.
Which left Draco with no resources.
He thought briefly of going home, but even if his mom was willing to help him and Harry, his father wouldn't be.
His father would either kill Harry out right or use him as a pawn.
Absent-mindedly, Draco spelled himself and Harry dry.
Which was a pity, because his mother was a Black. Time travel or no time travel, she would have helped him.
The question was, who did he have left?
His godfather, Snape, was in Dumbledore's pocket.
All his other friends were, six year olds, Death Eaters, or Aurors. Well, he didn't really have Auror friends, but he still had colleagues he trusted.
He briefly considered the Weasleys who adored Harry, but they, again, were in Dumbledore's pocket.
His mind was turning as he went through names.
He laughed internally at himself, when he thought of his useless relative.
Aunt Bella.
Cousin Sirius, who was innocent, but well beyond Draco's current ability to aid.
Draco went very still as an idea took form.
Aunt Andromeda.
A Black who had purposely burned her bridges to the Death Eaters and was not insipid enough to follow Dumbledore even if her daughter had been.
Better yet, his Uncle, Ted Tonks, was a healer.
If nothing else, Ted would help Harry.
And though he had no relationship with his Aunt, if she was anything like his own mother, she might protect Harry over the wishes of the Wizarding World.
Draco knelt in front of Harry, and before he could speak, the boy blurted, "Are you sending me back?"
"What? No, of course not," Draco said. "I will never willingly allow you to return to those monsters."
Harry fidgeted with his sleeve, "You're upset."
"You're hurt," Draco said. "But Harry, I didn't take you legally. If the wrong people find us, I might not be able to stay with you."
For a moment, Harry thought that he might cry, but to his surprise, the boy straightened his slim shoulders and said bravely, "What do we have to do?"
Draco blinked, this really was Potter.
Small, adorable, and fragile Potter, but still Potter. The boy who stood up to the Dark Lord dozens of time, and the Auror who was internationally respected.
He was making the same expression.
Draco reached for his bag, "We're going to have to go under cover."
"Like Clark Kent!?" Harry chirped, suddenly excited.
"Ah, who?" Draco said as his wife's makeup came to his hand.
"Superman!" Harry explained. "His real name is Kal-El, he's an alien."
"Oh, he's a fictional character," Draco said, uncapping the cover-up.
Harry nodded, "I don't get to watch Dudley's shows but I heard them."
Draco sighed, "Alright, Harry, we have to hide your lightning-bolt scar because people remember it. I think if we change your hair colour and glasses, that should be enough."
"Like yours?" Harry asked, pointing to the silver chain around his neck that led to his breast pocket where he kept his reading glasses.
Draco nodded, tapping his wand against Harry's frames, repairing them and changing the shape to be silver wired and more rectangular shaped.
"Have you ever been to the doctor's, Harry?" Draco asked as changed Harry's hair to match his own.
His green eyes looked a lot different framed with light colours instead of black.
"No," Harry said. "Only good boys get to go, though Dudley doesn't like it there."
"It's really important to see the healers–doctors," Draco said, thinking of his mother's maiden name.
Draco couldn't count on staying hidden. Uf anyone in the wizarding world saw Harry's scar, they would know exactly who he was.
Besides, he wasn't planning to hide much from the Tonks when he asked for their help.
"Harry Evans," Draco said. "And I'll be Drake Evans."
"Evans?" Harry asked.
"It was your mother's last name."
Harry's eyes went very wide, "Did you know my parents?"
Draco shook his head, "No, I didn't. But I know they would be very proud of you."
Harry smiled, again catching Draco in a hug.
Whatever trouble this got him into, it was worth it.
oOo
Sometimes, Ted Tonks sometimes believed he understood magic better than his wife.
Not to say he was better or stronger than his wife, that simply wasn't true.
But having grown up in the muggle world, the limits of what magic could and couldn't do were less defined.
So when a blonde man who looked startlingly like Lucius Malfoy stood outside their apartment door, he knew immediately who it was.
"Hi," the man said awkwardly. "My name is Drake Evans, and this is my son Harrison Evans. I–"
"You're Draco Malfoy," Ted interrupted the lie.
The man gaped at him, "How did you–"
Ted smirked, "You just admitted as much. But seeing as I'm a paediatrician, I'm assuming you're not here for that particular predicament."
"Um, no."
Noting how terrified the child clinging to Draco's pant leg was, he stepped back to let them in.
Draco bent to pick up the child with exceeding gentleness and care.
"Ted?" Andromeda called.
Ted led the two into the living room, "We have guests."
Andromeda stood, her eyes going wide as she looked between Ted and the newcomers.
"This is Draco Malfoy, and his son–"
"Harry," Draco interrupted.
"It's very nice to meet you, Harry. I'm Doctor Ted Tonks, and this is my wife Andromeda Tonks."
Harry waved.
"Can I get either of you tea?" Andromeda asked, taking her time travelling nephew in stride.
"Yes please," Draco said.
"I have some scones too, Harry," she said, directions the comment toward their littlest guest.
The boy shook his head but Draco said, "That would be great, we haven't eaten breakfast."
She nodded, going to the kitchen without another word.
Ted, obviously wanted to talk about the time travel, as did his wife. But he knew there was magic wizards had yet to unlock, and his wife trusted him.
If he said this was Draco Malfoy, then he was Draco Malfoy, who was supposed to be six years old instead of a man in his late twenties with a child.
Ted may have been a Hufflepuff, but he enjoyed reading.
He had once come across an idiom, Terrible things happen to wizards who mess with time.
In this case, that terrible thing had been the death of his younger self.
They sat in silence, Harry huddled against his father's side.
On the plus side, the boy likely had no younger self to displace.
Draco looked like his father, but his mother's features were present in his more delicate features, making him appear more feminine.
"How old are you, Harry?" Ted asked to break the silence.
"Six," Harry answered.
Ted blinked, re-evaluating everything, as his gaze cut to Draco.
Harry was much too small to be a six year old.
Draco, thankfully, looked concerned as well, and that at least, was a comfort.
"Have you been eating alright lately, Harry?"
The boy's face lit up, "Yeah, Draco and I–" The boy cut himself off, looking up at the blonde in fear as if expecting to be punished.
Not, Dad or Father, but Draco.
This boy wasn't Draco's son.
A time traveller and a kidnapper.
But a kidnapper who was risking being caught to bring the child to a healer.
Andromeda walked in, tray in hand.
Draco reached forward for a napkin to grab a scone for Harry. He didn't give him a plate, which made sense a moment later when Ted saw how badly the boy's hands were shaking.
Ted had a growing suspicion that something had happened to the child and that perhaps Draco wasn't his kidnapper but saviour.
"Andromeda, could you get Harry some cranberry juice with ice, please? And maybe some of your ginger snaps."
She raised a brow as he asked for foods meant to help soothe an upset stomach.
She nodded, giving Harry an assessing look before returning to the kitchen.
"Please eat, Harry. It's safe here, I promise. Ted is a doctor and my family," Draco implored.
Andromeda returned, setting the glass on a coaster in front of Harry along with a plate of ginger snaps.
Harry tucked himself in closer to Draco's side and began to take small cautious bites of his food as if expecting it to be taken from him. As if he didn't want to seem rude for assuming he was allowed to eat as much as he wanted.
The conflict on Draco's face was easy enough to read.
Anger and grief.
"Have you made living arrangements since your return to London, Draco?" Ted asked.
Draco coughed, "Not yet. How did you know…"
"Narcissa is grieving," Andromeda said. "As is Lucius."
Draco seemed to deflate. "Oh… I didn't mean– but I can't undo it."
Harry was looking at all of them confused, "You're Dra– Dad's aunt and uncle."
"We are," Andromeda said with a soft smile.
The blatant fear on Harry's face was telling.
"Not like your aunt and uncle, Harry. They've never hurt anyone and they're magic just like us," Draco said, petting the boy's messy black curls.
"Go ahead and finish eating," Ted coaxed.
Harry hunched in on himself but started eating again.
Ted gave the other man a look and asked with his expression, What the hell?
"Harry's aunt and uncle aren't as nice as mine. So I'm looking after him," Draco explained.
Andromeda's gaze narrowed, "And you don't think Narcissa would have helped you?"
"My mother isn't a healer," Draco said a bit coldly.
Harry had finished the scone and Draco helped him hold the glass of juice.
Once the glass was set back down, Ted asked, "Are you injured, Harry?"
"No, I'm fine," the boy said immediately.
"It's his back," Draco said.
"What happened to your back?" Ted asked, remaining in his seat. They were going to have to convince the boy that he needed help.
"I was bad," the child whispered.
Ted softened his tone, "My boy, there is nothing you could have ever done that would make it right for anyone to hurt you."
"But I was bad," Harry defended, voice warbling as he argued against an adult, a stranger, on his abuser's behalf.
Ted hid his own flinch, this child needed a lot more than just a medical doctor.
"You're not bad," Draco said with a bit more force. "Your aunt and uncle were wrong and they were bad to you."
Harry looked at Draco as if he wanted to believe him but was scared to.
"Could I see the injury, my child?" Ted said gently. "I can make the pain stop."
Harry looked to Draco who nodded.
Ted rose to sit on the sofa beside the boy, though he remained careful not to crowd him.
Harry took off his shirt and turned his back on Ted, hugging Draco for support. The man hugged him back awkwardly, careful not to touch his back, so that his hands up hugging the boy's shoulders and arms.
There were wounds just beginning to heal, ones that had not healed well, and others that had not healed well, and yet older ones that had scared over completely.
The boy was six.
Six and half the size that he should have been for his age. Ted could count all of his ribs with painful ease.
His voice was rough from strain, "They used a belt?"
Harry nodded.
Ted pulled his wand, "Alright, Harry, I'm going to use some spells and the magic might feel a bit cold."
Again, the child nodded.
Ted couldn't remove the scars, but he could unwind–for lack of a better term–the beginnings of an infection while reknitting the skin.
Andromeda left to get his bag, by the time he was done she was back.
"Alright, Harry, almost done. I'm going to let your dad put the salve on your back and you shouldn't feel any more pain."
The boy nodded, relaxing as Ted moved away.
Ted reached into his bag and handed the first bottle to Draco before going to the kitchen himself to whip up a child-safe sedative. Even if the boy had slept recently, he was far too underweight to have the normal energy levels for a child his age. And healing on the young many found tiring.
Many people didn't understand that sleep was necessary when you were sick, or healing, or severely underweight, or even any number of mental illnesses. Being awake took energy your body needed to assist the cells regrowth and sleep gave the mind time to process not just physical trauma but emotional trauma as well.
"Here, drink this, Harry. It's chocolate and will make your head feel better," Ted said, coming back with a small teacup of hot chocolate.
Harry was hugging himself, his shirt back in place, a little distance from Draco now. Likely, he was overwhelmed by everything happening around him and to him. But he accepted the teacup without fuss, drinking it seemingly on autopilot.
Ted caught the cup as the boy's limbs drooped.
He was very hurt if he was already dropping off.
Andromeda grabbed a throw blanket laying it over the boy as he sank into the arm of the sofa.
"What did you do?" Draco asked.
"He needs rest, and lots of it," Ted said, eyeing his nephew. "Now, who is he really?"
Draco shook his head, "I shouldn't tell you. Not yet anyway."
"There's nothing you could say that would stop us from helping him," Andromeda said hotly.
"But there is a lot I could say, I wager that would get you to turn against me," Draco countered, self-aware that his mother being Andromeda's sister was a mark against him.
Blood purest and blood traitors with a side of 'mud-bloods' was not an altogether common mix of people to host in one sitting room.
"You're a Malfoy," Andromeda said. "A Malfoy that doesn't seem at all remorseful that you killed your younger self."
"I can't change it. I found a rip in time and I don't know how to find another one, much less how to find one that would take me back to where I was. Besides, if the younger me is already gone, I doubt my leaving would bring him back," Draco said, fixing the blanket around Harry who was completely out.
"And your parents?" Andromeda pushed. "Will you tell them?"
"No," Draco said firmly. "My father is a Death Eater and my mother married him. I don't condone what they were willing to do and allow during the war. Harry wouldn't be safe with them."
"Why?" Andromeda asked. "You think Lucius Malfoy hates muggleborns enough to kill a child and risk being convicted?"
Draco's jaw ticked, "He's a half-blood actually."
"He's not related to you, is he?" Ted asked.
"No, but I would die for him."
Andromeda gasped.
Ted looked to her, her brown eyes going wide as she stared at the blonde, "You didn't?"
"Didn't what?" Ted asked, confused.
Andromeda's demeanour went from shock to hostile in a blink of an eye as she hissed, "You kidnapped Harry Potter?"
Ted's jaw fell as he stared at the child.
The Boy Who Lived.
Who would have been six years old, the same age as Draco Malfoy should have been.
Fuck.
Draco ran a hand through his hair, "Would you have left him? If you had seen him as I had? His muggle family starved him because he was a wizard. Hurting him because he was different… I couldn't– I couldn't turn a blind eye to it."
Still, Ted repeated, "You kidnapped –Harry Potter– the Boy Who Lived?"
"Yes," Draco said. "He grows up to save the world and be everyone else's hero. But no one ever saved him. He may have loved his family, his children, but he was not 'happily' married because the idiot has no concept of self worth. Not surprising, now that I know he grew up in hell and his school years were a disaster, and–"
"Breathe," Andromeda interrupted. "We're not going to turn you in. This has Dumbledore written all over it."
Draco raised a pale eyebrow, his accent a bit grating when paired with the disbelief in his tone, "You don't like Albus Dumbledore?"
"No," Andromeda said. "I was a Slytherin, and while I might have been exiled from my family, I remember how the Headmaster was in my school years. How he played favourites and never gave anyone in Slytherin the benefit of the doubt, not even when they were asking for help."
Ted spoke for them both when he said, "You and Harry can say with us. We will keep you safe."
Draco blinked, "I– I didn't think you would believe me, much less trust me."
Andromeda patted the blonde's head, "You are my little sister's only son. It's not about trust, It's about duty and honour. However–" her smile turned menacing, like a beautiful pane of glass that you realise has a sharpened edge. "If you ever pose a threat to my daughter or to Harry, I will kill you. Until then, you are family and under our protection."
Ted sighed, "We're going to have to re-enforce the wards again, aren't we?"
Andromeda leaned over to kiss Ted's cheek, "I think we just adopted a time traveller and the Boy Who Defeated the Dark Lord, so, yes."
Ted sighed again, wondering all the trouble this would bring them, and completely unable to regret it.
oOo
AN: So that took longer than expected because this turned out to be harder to plot than I imagined. Thoughts, requests, bobcats, or feedback, pretty please?