Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

2009

There comes a time when life is more of a flow and less of a trudge, an amalgamation of moments that come smooth and easy, when the world is less shrouded in a dim grey haze and more real. There comes a time when Draco breathes with purpose, each one a step towards something more alive and whole, towards the days when the hollow of his chest doesn't rot away at him inside and out.

He still has terrible dreams. He still hears loud noises like they boomed inside his head and rattled in his chest, still hears the echoes of a voice yelling terrible things, crude names that he's spent too long wearing on himself like a second skin. He lies awake some nights and thinks too much about all the ways he went wrong with Scorpius, all the ways he couldn't protect him, all the ways he isn't enough of something. He still looks at Teddy and remembers being on the side of the war that got his parents murdered. He still looks at Harry some days and feels like love is too big of a thing to last for someone like him. He still grapples for control and thinks he's just on the edge of losing it all.

But the difference is this; he knows what to do every time. He knows how to breathe, slow and cadenced, to inhale his winds and storms and exhale towards stillness and calm. He knows how to think, with reason, with clarity, with forgiveness, with power and control, how to see through the distorted and skewed glass of his illusive perceptions. He knows how to take himself back from the turmoil of his emotions and the chaos of his mind, from the ghosts of Michael still haunting him, and he knows how to let go if that is what he needs.

When the suffocating pitch-blackness of everything that had happened begins to close in around his heart and mind and lungs, he no longer feels like he's entirely on his own in the midst of it all.

Penelope, with her calm and open demeanor, is indeed competent at what she does. 

Scorpius remains of a shy and introverted nature, but there are clear changes in the way he acts around people now, the way he feels about them. He does not see danger at every corner, does not see the world through wary and uncertain eyes, protective of his father, afraid for himself, subconsciously expecting cruelty and hurt from almost every other person he meets. He learns that Michael and those people on the streets were not the world, but only a terrible part of it.

It's when they look at Harry and Teddy that they understand this better than ever.

With Dr. Styne's guidance, support and counselling, his boy learns what love is meant to be. He learns of the clear boundaries that are needed between people, how to express his emotions. He learns of how he should expect to be treated, and he understands in greater depth of all that was wrong with the way he grew up. He begins to believe in himself more. He learns to see himself in ways Michael never did, in ways Draco always has.

Scorpius is eventually encouraged to move into Teddy's room, and though it takes time and getting used to, though it takes a lot of anxiety that requires Draco to sit with him through some hours of the night with patience and tenderness, he eventually begins to sleep on his own. He still has nightmares, and it is here that Teddy learns that some darknesses exist even outside of horrible wars in the most mundane and unexpected places.

"Why would someone hurt their own family like that?" Teddy whispers to Harry, a doleful and pained frown as he curls up in his arms and in his room the morning after Scorpius had whispered it all to him, Teddy having laid next to him to make him less scared. My Papa was a scary and bad man.

"I don't know," Harry says, because he doesn't, not entirely. He remembers being four and six and eight and ten and only being able to make sense of it by believing it was something wrong with him. It was what he was told then, until Ron and Hermione and the Weasleys and Sirius. He looks at sweet little Scorpius' big green eyes and it breaks his heart. "But whatever the reason is, it is always senseless and it is always something wrong with them, not who they hurt."

Sometime in early March, Harry invites Neville, Luna, Ron, Hermione and the Weasleys over for dinner.

Molly and Arthur are still somewhat guarded around Draco, even if they said they trusted Harry when he told them Draco is not the same person, but they really only believe him when they see how he is with Scorpius and Teddy, when they see him smiling a genuine way with them, his eyes crinkling with fond amusement, and when he's making stupid faces out of the vegetables on the salad plate to make Teddy laugh and kissing the top of Scorpius' head and telling the two of them to go wash their hands.

They don't talk about their bitter, thornful history in depth, but it lingers heavy between them when they're gathered at the dinner table together. In the two minutes Draco has before Scorpius and Teddy come running back in, he says, demure and quiet, "I'm sorry. For everything I did." He gives no excuse or justification, because surely there isn't any. He doesn't ask them to forgive him, but what he does ask for is to be allowed to make amends in whatever manner they deem appropriate (there is a hand brushing against the side of his under the table, and it is the only thing that makes his heart settle down just so).

It is here that he learns that the only person that hasn't quite forgiven him is himself.

At the door, Molly glances between him and Harry a certain way (this may have something to do with the way Draco leans down and too close to look at Harry's face when they're laughing together, and the way his gaze roves down his face and comes to settle on Harry's lips sometimes when he's talking, the way he forgets himself when he's looking at Harry and Harry isn't looking back). She smiles at him, somewhat tentative, but kind and mellow nonetheless. She pats Draco's cheek with a gentle palm, the crows-feet at the corners of her eyes crinkling, and she invites him and Scorpius over along with Harry and Teddy for Sunday dinner next week.

He does go to Sunday dinner the following week, where Scorpius flies a broom in the backyard of the Weasleys' home for the first time in his life (you won't fall. I won't let you get hurt, Draco promises his son. He never has, in some ways. He wishes he could say the same for the other ways too). They all play the children's version of Quidditch, flying too low and the Golden Snitch zooming a little too slow and getting chased by soft bludgers that don't hurt.

In August, Teddy receives his Hogwarts letter.

They make a trip to Diagon Alley for his robes, for his books, for his school supplies.  He takes to a small snowy owl that takes a special liking to him, whom he names Nymph. She is a lovely little thing that fits in Teddy's palm and enjoys settling on his shoulder when she's out of her cage.

The last weekend before Teddy is to leave for Hogwarts, they stay at Ron and Hermione's for the day.

As an Unspeakable, Hermione's schedule can be unpredictable for surreptitious reasons. I'll have to kill you if I tell you, she always jokes whenever she's inquired about anything related to her work. She owls little notes home throughout the day whenever she can and firecalls the first chance she gets. Every day when she gets home, Hugo waddle-runs into her arms with a delighted squeal, and she picks him up with a broad tired grin and closes her eyes as she holds him tight. She kisses Ron hello, eats dinner with him and spends whatever hours she has after with her family. Ron, on the other hand, is taking some time off from the jokes shop to care for his son, only going part-time on hectic days when he has to leave Hugo at Harry's or Neville and Luna's.

Hugo turned two this January, waddling around and only just learning to talk in hardly comprehensible syllables. He is empathetic and stubborn, with a bit of a temper that nobody knows whether it came from Ron or Hermione. He's taken a lot to Harry, as kids seemed to, and in his toddling around at times often ends up dropping into Harry's awaiting arms, grinning gummily around his salivated baby-pudged fingers. There's almost always drool on his chin. 

Right now, he is babbling nonsense to his father, who is reclining sideways on his elbow beside him. Ron is smiling, responding back with interested 'oh's and surprised interjections 'really?' as if Hugo is actually telling a real story. 

Harry is quiet and content to sit away from the circle of others in the centre of the living room, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. Teddy is laying on his stomach in front of Hugo. He's learned to change three of his features at a time now and is morphing a combination of them into those of certain animals or magical creatures. Scorpius giggles beside him, hands pushing over his mouth, Hugo belly-laughing so hard that his cheeks have gone pink and tight, his eyes watery.

"Alright?" Draco questions, settling into the spot beside Harry.

Harry's brows lift, somewhat startled out of whatever thoughts he was lost in. He blinks at Draco. "Yeah. Yeah I am, I just…" He looks back at Teddy, and his lips twist slightly in a rueful smile. "I'm just going to miss him a lot."

Scorpius glances over at Ron to share his giddy delight at Teddy's antics, bright-eyed. Ron grins back at him.

Draco hums softly in agreement. "So will I."

Teddy is difficult not to miss. He is Draco's nephew, the boy who made him laugh in a way he'd forgotten to for years, the first person to not see him as most others do, even if out of blissful ignorance. He is light and chaos. He brings laughter and sound wherever he goes, and their home without him would seem so quiet and strange and incomplete.

"I've been sort of dreading this day for years," Harry huffs, glancing down at his hands. "I mean. Don't get me wrong. I'm happy and proud as well. He's going to be brilliant out there. I just know it. But I...I don't know. Part of me just wants to keep him with me forever." He lifts his head to Draco, squinting. The skin around his eyes are slightly dark. He sleeps, but not enough these days. "Does every parent feel like this? Or am I overreacting?"

Harry values family more than most, loves and needs them a little more than most. Draco knows this, and he knows all the reasons why.

"I believe that's fair. You raised him." Draco shrugs. "I'll most likely feel the same when it will be Scorpius standing at that train station." 

There will be other things that will keep him awake half the night like this, such as what his son will learn about him, and the way he will be treated because of who he came from, and the thought that someone might hurt his son when he's already been hurt more than any child should be.

"Thanks," Harry says. He throws him a small smile, and Draco's own lips quirk into an equally small smirk. Harry turns to look ahead at where the shrill ring of childlike laughter is coming from, and Draco keeps on looking at him.

Are you still waiting? he thinks to the man sitting beside him, his head leaning back against the wall as he watches the circle of laughter and sound that Teddy has formed around him. 

Draco can no longer tell. Harry doesn't look at him with any such underlying feelings anymore, the crooked little grin he used to give him out of nowhere, his eyes still full of hope for them, still full of dreams for Draco to come back.

It is this realization, this thought, that always halts Draco still, stops him from leaning in close to him and catching his mouth against his own and kissing him like he is air. It's the thought that Harry has already slipped through his fingers that keeps him rooted in place.

Draco is still learning to not be chaos and grief, still learning that he is more than that, but he learned weeks ago that he is ready, staring at Harry without knowing he is and thinking of kissing him and realizing that he doesn't want to hold himself back this time, doesn't want to hold himself back ever again. He feels it in the way his heart settles in his chest at the thought of love and Harry. 

If only it can settle long enough for him to do something about it.

He's looking at Harry, at the curve of his thick eyelashes and the slope of his nose and the sharp line of his jaw, unaware of him and the way he still leaves him feeling raw inside, even after two years, looking at him. Beautiful Harry. Kind and brave and noble.

His heart is a bird gone wild in his ribcage, and it holds him back. It hurls him forward. 

Draco shifts over closer on his knees, takes Harry's face and carefully turns it towards his own. Harry's forehead twitches into a frown as he follows his grip, startled and confused, his hands coming up to touch the backs of his on a baffled instinct. He understands only when Draco's gaze flick down to his lips.

There is a flicker of disbelief, then. Harry's eyes flutter in a rapid blink as the furrow in his brows deepens, his head tipping back as Draco's moves nearer. His gaze roves down to Draco's lips, lingering over his, breaths mingling and warm between them. Tell me you're still waiting, even if only for a minute more.

"Draco, is this…" Harry whispers. He swallows hard, the sharp line of his throat shifting under his skin. "Are you…"

There must be something in the way Draco is looking at him, because a tremulous huff passes through Harry's lips. He crosses the inch of distance and kisses Draco, tender and chaste, and it's answer enough. His fingers raise to hold Draco's jaw, his lips pressed quivering against his own, closes over into another soft kiss, and then again, one after another after another.

Harry draws back first, both of them breathless, and Draco feels like he's swimming in his own head. His heart is pounding hard and fast, an intangible hot-cold sort of craving underneath his skin, something starved and aching in his gut. Harry drops his forehead to his, his nose to his, his breaths shuddering heavy and slow. He closes his eyes, perhaps as overwhelmed as Draco himself, but Draco doesn't close his own. His gaze is lowered instead, trying to see Harry's face, watching as he breaks into a breath of a tender, beautiful smile, then, a grin, a laugh, his hands on his cheeks.

"MERLIN'S SAGGY TITS, FINALLY !"

For a moment, it doesn't register where it came from through the turmoil of emotions in his chest leaving his mind hazy. Everything has gone still, abruptly silent. Draco looks over, blinking bemusedly. Everyone is staring at the source. Ron is quickly growing red.

"You said a bad word," Scorpius points out.

"Oh," Ron says. "I did, didn't I?" Scorpius hums an affirmative mhm. There's an awkward long pause. "Right. So, er…. Who—who wants to go out for some ice-cream?"

"I do!" Teddy exclaims. Scorpius nods vigorously beside Teddy, both of them perked up, everything forgotten at the prospect of ice-cream. Hugo just says i-teem, staring doe-eyed up at his father.

As Ron is standing at the door, Teddy and Scorpius way ahead of him and Hugo in his arms against his hip, he puffs an uneasy breath. He tries to grin, but he ends up looking like a cornered dog instead, "Alright then. Er. No funny business while I'm out, yeah?"

Harry nods jerkily. "Of course. Totally." 

"I mean it, okay? Not on my carpet," Ron nearly pleads, desperate. "Or any surface of my flat, please. I know it's been a while since you two have—"

"Merlin's pants, Ron!" Harry exclaims, mortified, his face red. "Yes, okay! Yes! We promise!"

Draco sighs, trying to reign in his impatience. He shoots him a thin, satirical smile. "We promise you won't find any odd stains in here when you return, Ronald."

"Fuck, okay!" Ron hastens with a horrified expression, backing out of the door quickly with Hugo and slamming it shut.

"Fak!"

"Oh bloody Hell, Hugo, no." Ron's voice is growing muffled. "Don't say that in front of your mum. She's going to murder me—"

Harry meets his eyes again, and Draco's grinning, laughing, something heady and brilliant and bright making him feel alive all over. By the next second, he's thrown his legs on either side of Harry and his arms are around the back of his neck, and then he's on him, catching his mouth against his own, and he's kissing him and kissing him like he is air and Draco hasn't breathed in two years, and Harry is kissing him back like he hasn't either, helpless smiles knocking their teeth together. 

Harry's hands are warm around the dips of Draco's waist, and one of them goes around the light curve of his lower back, hauling him in impossibly closer against himself. Draco's hands run up into the tousle of raven-black hair, pulling him in by the back of his head and deeper into the kiss, his gut a tender and swollen throb, feeling hot and lightheaded and afloat.

They break away only when both their lungs have had enough, Draco's face warm and his lips aching. Before he can look into Harry's face, Harry draws him in again, burying his face into the side of his neck and pushing a kiss there that shivers down from his skin down his spine. He is silent and trembling. Draco strokes the mess of his raven black hair and presses his nose to the top of it, holding him by his head and the nape of his neck tightly.

Like that, they stay for a long time.

…

The night is much like another night a long time ago, except there's all these feelings gathered over the years that are only finding an outlet now, in kissing and touching and feeling, in remapping and exploring, in the movement of their bodies. It's intense and careful, gentle and desperate, slow and frantic and deep. It's making up for lost time. It's love more than anything.

After, when Harry grabs for the wand on the nightstand on Draco's side hovering over his face, Draco's arms come snaking around his torso, lithe wrists crossing between his shoulder blades so he can draw him down to press kisses at his chest.

Harry laughs, looking down at the top of his tousled white hair. "Hold on a second, would you?"

Draco hums, a leisurely and contented sort of sound as he pushes one last kiss. "We've held on long enough."

Harry can't disagree. So after he's done with the cleaning charms, he drops down beside Draco on his side and grabs him by the chin and kisses him hard.

Where Harry usually feels drained and sleepy, he feels more riveted instead tonight. Draco's face is close to his on the pillow, snow-blond hair mussed up all over, and there is a smile quirking at his lips, tightening his still pink cheeks. He's just as happy as Harry is. He's happy.

"I love you," Draco says, soft, almost a whisper but not quite, fingers circling on the inside of Harry's elbow.

Harry touches his fingers to his cheeks and kisses his mouth with a smile, can't seem to stop, can't seem to keep his hands off of him (and he doesn't have to now). "Say it again."

"I love you," Draco murmurs against his lips, again, smiling slightly. 

"I love you too." Harry says, and then kisses Draco again, like he still hasn't had enough after so long of doing nothing but, sliding his forearm up over his cheek to bury his hand in his hair. The other pushes in under the side of his neck and around his shoulders, his hand closed over his bicep joint, holding him. He can't seem to stop smiling either, but Draco is having the same trouble. "I get to kiss you whenever I want now."

He gets to fall asleep next to him every night and wake up next to him every morning. He gets to hold his hand and dance with him and snog his brains out whenever he falls in love a little more, whenever he leaves for work, whenever he comes home. He gets to love him. He gets to have him. All of him.

He'd thought he'd never have any of this. He'd stopped believing months ago that it could ever happen, growing surer by the day that Draco is long over him.

And now here they are. 

"You do," Draco murmurs, nose brushing against his. He pulls Harry's arm framing his face and wraps it around his own waist, and Harry gets to do that whenever he wants too. He hauls him in as close as he can without it being suffocating and uncomfortable, Draco's body warm and soft under Harry's shirt against him. Harry smiles at that, and Draco does too, like an inside joke that they're sharing.

"We have a very unconventional love story, did you know?" Harry says. They're so close that their breaths are the same.

"How so?" Draco lifts an eyebrow as he asks this. He is tracing his nimble fingers over Harry's ribcage in circular patterns.

"I mean. Usually, it's like. You're strangers, and then you get attracted to each other first, or you become friends first, right? And then the rest follows. Sometimes it ends in love. Sometimes it ends in hatred."

Draco nods, huffs a smile. "We started with hatred."

"Exactly. But that's whatever. Some love stories start off like that, I suppose. Remember Gabriella from Hufflepuff and that lad in Slytherin?"

Draco laughs. "Oh, that was a rather shocking twist for the entire school."

Harry nods in agreement. "But us. We started off strangers, and then we hated each other. And then we sort of didn't really hate each other… we weren't really anything."

"You were something to me." Draco told him that, on that night of theirs two years ago. Harry still can't quite wrap his head around that.  Draco traps his lower lip between his teeth. His eyes lower down, focused on following the patterns of his fingers on his chest, his nails scratching lightly over his skin.  "I thought of you a lot, after the Fiendfyre and the war. The trials."

Harry strokes his palm down his back, silent for a moment.

"I wish I had… I wish I had thought more of you," Harry says, then, softly. "I mean. There was the occasional glance at the Slytherin table in Eighth Year. Habit or something. And I wouldn't see you and it'd feel strange. But… I wish I had wondered more. I wish I had reached out and owled you or—I don't know. I wish we'd just reconciled sooner."

"That's unreasonable." Draco scoffs and shakes his head. "Why would you have?"

Harry bites his lip, a pained and doleful frown twitching into his forehead. "I could have helped you, with what the Ministry had done—"

Draco shakes his head, putting a hand up to quiet him. "There was nothing to be done, Harry. It was right after the war. Their fear was still too big, then, and they never would have listened to you, no matter your influence."

"Then maybe I could have stopped him from hurting you for as long as he did. Maybe you never would have gotten with him at all." Maybe it would have changed something somehow. Maybe it would have changed a lot of things. He just wishes things had been better.

Draco shakes his head, seems bemused by this. "Harry, what would you have done?"

"Something. Anything. I just wish you'd never met him."

"I don't."

Harry frowns, puzzled. "You don't?"

"Make no mistake, I could have gone without Michael in my life entirely. If there was a way I could have had Scorpius without having met him at all, I would have taken it. But there isn't. Without him, I wouldn't have had Scorpius, and that is a life that I can't imagine anymore." His face softens immeasurably. "I wouldn't be who I am without my son, which would be a shame, because I don't mind the person that I am today."

"I don't mind the person that you are today either," Harry says, understatedly, with a smile, grabs a hold of his hand and rubs his thumb over the bumps on the back of his hand. Kisses them. He loves the person Draco is today more than he can put into words.

Draco quirks a smile, letting it last a moment. He lets it fade, then,  tilts his chin up as he shifts slightly. "So you were saying…" Harry's thoroughly forgotten what he was saying. Draco raises an eyebrow, gesturing vaguely between them. "Our unconventional love story."

"Oh, right. So. We started off strangers, and then we hated each other, and then we didn't. We met again, and then I got attracted to you, fell in love, and then we got together, and then we kind of broke up, or took a long break, during which we became friends, and—do you see what I mean? It's the most disordered love story ever."

Draco's grey eyes crinkle in a stifled, breathy laugh, looking at him like he's endlessly amusing. "Indeed it is."

Harry inclines his head, thoughtfully. "Can you imagine it? If we hadn't gotten off on the wrong foot and became friends?"

Draco snorts. "Wouldn't that have been something."

"It could have been, you know. I was about to be sorted into Slytherin." Draco takes a long minute to let that sink in. Harry squints at him in an exaggerated display of incredulity. "But you know, I don't think we would have worked out even then. You were way too much of a pompous prat."

Draco's brows raise at that. "Well. You were too much of an annoying git."

They then proceed to do terrible impersonations of each other, Harry going so far as to slick his hair back with some quick charm to have one over him. It's childish and stupid, but he makes Draco laugh to the point of watering eyes, and nothing about that can ever make him feel too childish and stupid. 

"You're absolutely mad," Draco huffs.

In vengeance, Harry shoves his face into Draco's neck and rubs it against his skin, the most sensitive part of him and it can either be extremely arousing or extremely ticklish. It's the latter this time, Draco's laughter vibrating against his nose and lips. He raises his head up again, grinning, and kisses his face. "And that is all your fault."

…

Harry pushes through the burn in his back muscles, levering himself upward with his hands clasped behind his head, his feet planted into the carpet. He lowers himself back down on his back to the carpeted floor. Rinse and repeat.

There are footsteps padding on the floor above him, passing next to him. He smiles, craning his head up to watch Draco as he skirts around him.

"Morning, beautiful," Harry says with a grin, his back muscles melding into the floor, his gaze following as Draco comes to settle at his feet.  He folds his arms atop his knees, putting his chin down to it as he shifts, his lips pursed in a smirk.

"Morning."

"Enjoying the show?"

"Oh, very much so."

The next time he drags himself upward, Draco's mouth is catching his, kissing all air right out of his lungs. Harry hums a pleased noise as Draco draws away with a soft peck. "Thanks for making me forget my count."

"Ah well. I suppose you'll have to start over." Draco shrugs, putting his chin back on his arms.

"While you're here to distract me?"

Draco shakes his head. "While I'm here to motivate you." 

So much for that, when the work-out session stops by the tenth sit-up from starting over, because he's down on his elbows with Draco's hand on his chest and his lips on his again, hovering over him on his palms with his hips fitted between Harry's knees.

"I was thinking," Harry says, brushing against his lips as they move. Draco's eyes are so very grey, glimmering bright in daylight. 

They're glimmering with something that doesn't have much to do with daylight right now. "A dangerous thing."

"Shut up," Harry says. He's still hovering over him, his palms on either side of his head. "I was thinking, you should move in with me."

Draco's brows furrow, pulling his head back a little to eye him. "Did you miss the part where we skipped over that a long time ago?"

"I mean." Harry rolls his eyes. "You're still paying me rent. If you ' move in', then you don't have to do that anymore."

Draco's lips in a somewhat reluctant contemplation. "I don't mind it."

Harry kisses the purse of his lips. "I don't think your landlord should be your lover."

Draco hums a little in agreement, then, seeming to cave. He narrows his eyes, mock-contemplative. "Even if my landlord's sort of a catch?"

Harry grins. "Even then, I'm afraid. It can only be one or the other."

"Landlord it is, then." And then Draco snogs the hell out of his very attractive landlord until Scorpius and Teddy come running into the living room, all rumpled flying hair and pyjamas.

"What's for breakfast?" Teddy asks as soon as he sees them, thankfully missing the split-second that Draco jumped away from Harry.

"Morning to you too," Harry says as he pulls himself up to sit.

"Sorry. Morning, everyone," Teddy rectifies. "What's for breakfast?"

Harry snorts, shaking his head.

"Morning, Daddy," Scorpius says with a smile, running to Draco and giving him a hug, and getting a kiss to the top of his head in return and a morning, darling.

Scorpius then turns to Harry, who already knows what's coming. He jerks his head to beckon him over, and then rolls to get on his hands and toes. Scorpius clambers over his waiting back with a giggle and wraps his small arms around his neck, pressing his baby-soft cheek to Harry's ear. Harry smiles. He misses when Teddy still used to like doing this too, but he'd outgrown it over a year ago. "Morning, Harry," Scorpius says.

"Morning, little man. Merlin, you've grown bigger, haven't you?" Harry exaggerates a strangled grunt as he pushes up on his arms.

Scorpius smiles broadly. "I'm the same as I was last time."

"No way, Scorp. You've definitely grown bigger," Harry insists, and he grins when Scorpius laughs.

"Waffles alright, you two?" Draco asks Teddy and Scorpius, hanging at the doorway.

"Yes!"

…

In the second week of September, they're standing at King's Cross Station as Teddy hugs everyone goodbye, nearly vibrating in his excitement. 

It is a fairly large circle of people that have come to see Teddy Remus Lupin off, including almost all of the Weasleys. He saves Harry for last and it's only right because Harry is the one that finds it the hardest to let him go. He kneels down before his godson, kisses the top of his head and spends a long time keeping his chin buried into his godson's shoulder, holding him tightly.

Teddy looks back once more before he boards the train. He finds an empty compartment seven doors down and puts his things up on the trunk.

"Hello." He follows the voice to find a girl with black hair and dark skin, a pale boy at her shoulder with brown curls and blue eyes. "Most of the compartments are filled up. Is it alright if we sit here?"

"No problem," Teddy says, nodding at them as he sits down on the seat.

"Ava Montgomery," the girl says as she settles down across from him, the boy plopping down beside her. "This is Magnus Holmes."

"Teddy Remus Lupin. Nice to meet you, Ava and Magnus."

"Hold on. Remus Lupin? He taught my parents once. They said he was a brilliant DADA Professor!" Magnus says, excited. His smile fades, then, and he deflates. "Er. I heard that he's… he's passed away now?"

Teddy nods. "In the war."

"What about your mother?" Ava asks. Her brows are knit together.

"She died with him."

"Oh." Ava looks sad. "I'm so sorry."

"Was it hard?" Magnus asks, hesitant. "Growing up without any parents?"

Ava is horrified. She smacks him on the shoulder, eliciting a pained noise from him. "Magnus! You shouldn't ask things like that!"

"What? I was only—"

Teddy shakes his head. "No. It's alright." He looks at Magnus. "Sometimes it's hard. I do miss them a lot. But…"

He turns to the window, seeing the crowd of all the people that are standing here for him, watching him go.

"You see all those people there?" Teddy says, pointing at them. Ava and Magnus follow his gesture, squinting to look at them. "That's my family."

"Wow. That's a very big family! I only have my mum and dad here." She presses her face harder against the glass. "The man with the black hair looks so much like—like Harry Potter," Ava comments, frowning. "But he hasn't been seen in years."

Teddy grins. "That is my godfather, Harry Potter. He raised me."

They gasp, shoot a wide-eyed glance at him. "No way!"

Teddy looks out at them. There's Molly and Arthur, who are like his Grandma and Grandpa. There's his uncle George, who gives him freebies and teases him for his height and calls him Teddy Bear. There's his uncle Ron who taught him how to fly and plays board games with him and easy Quidditch. There's his Auntie Hermione who teaches him new things and has helped him be somewhat ahead than other kids in his coursebooks. There's Harry, who's raised him since he can remember and never let him feel like he is an orphaned child, and he is looking back at him through the window with a small smile that's proud but rests heavy in his eyes. There's Draco, waving at him with a small half-smile, his uncle, his last living family, who makes him laugh and sings to him, and Scorpius, his cousin who is more like a little brother than a cousin, who looks very sad to see him go, held tightly to Draco's side with a comforting hand in his hair.

Teddy faces Ava and Magnus again. "I miss my parents," he says. "But I didn't grow up without any parents." He's always had Harry. He has Draco now too. He has a whole family, even if they aren't like other families.

...

In Teddy's first owl home, he writes that he got sorted into Slytherin. Draco worries more than Harry does over this until Neville writes to them and tells them that Teddy is well-loved. He is the son of war heroes, the godson of Harry Potter, but in spite of this, he draws people in and makes his own name because of his character. 

He is kind where people expected him to be anything but because of where he was housed. He is best friends with Ava in Hufflepuff and Magnus in Gryffindor. He is smart and curious and extremely competitive, and sometimes helps other students with DADA because he is one of the best at it. He is almost always surrounded by a crowd, telling stories and changing his features and making them all laugh. He is mischievous and endearing.  

There are, unfortunately, still some people that won't look past his House, and this is often where the stereotypical Slytherin in him comes out in the form of cutting razor-wit and pranks that get him and his best friends detentions for weeks. He makes enemies, but he makes a lot of friends as well.

Teddy owls home asking questions about Draco's past one day, explaining what he's heard and asking what was true. Neither Harry nor Draco can tell just what he feels about it all, but Draco answers in the best and most factual way he could to allow him to form his own opinions, even though he dreads what they would be. 

(Draco doesn't know that Harry sends a letter the day after, defending him where it's due about why he was on the wrong side of the war and telling Teddy of all the good things about his uncle, and that his past shouldn't matter more than the person he is in the present). 

Teddy doesn't owl back for nearly a week.

"He isn't writing to me and Scorp either," Harry murmurs into Draco's hair after another day without an owl from Teddy, stroking the nape of his neck. "Maybe he's just busy with school and friends."

It's two days after that Teddy owls back to Harry and Draco in a jointed letter. He doesn't mention anything else of it, just tells him all the usual things he tells them in his letters, about school and Ava and Magnus and prank wars in the Slytherin common room.

When he comes home for Christmas Holidays, he launches himself at Draco just like he did the day he left for Hogwarts (like the day they met for the first time).

FOUR YEARS LATER

They're standing at King's Cross Station again, with two trolleys instead of one. Teddy is going to start his Fifth Year, and Scorpius his First.

By now, people recognize Harry Potter kissing Draco Malfoy at train stations. They've been all over the papers for the last many years, articles full of speculation and rumour. They don't bother reading a lot of it on The Prophet or the Witch Weekly, seeing as they're only a waste of time. The only newspapers they consider worth reading is Luna's the Quibbler.

With attention comes negative attention as well, but most of it has long died since Harry had exploded a year ago and gone on a whole tirade. People move on, eventually.

"They grow up so fast, don't they?" Harry mutters, wrapping his arms around Draco's neck. "We're going to be all on our own now. But on the bright side…" He smiles, leaning in close. "We're going to be all on our own now."

"And what are we going to do," Draco murmurs, a tiny smirk at the corner of his lips as he tips his head back, his hands gripping Harry's hips. "when we're all on our own?"

"You know. More time for candlelight dinners, and dates, and…" He waggles his eyebrows. Draco's silver eyes stray over slowly, his lips pressing together, and Harry follows the direction of his gaze to find Teddy and Scorpius staring at them. "...more candlelight dinners and dates." He lets go of his boyfriend and steps back, clearing his throat awkwardly as he rubs the back of his neck.

Scorpius is fidgeting with his shirt, looking lost in his thoughts.

Harry kneels down before him, leaning in to catch his eyes. "Nervous?"

Scorpius nods. Draco crouches down before him as well. "Do you want to tell us what's making you so anxious?"

Scorpius shakes his head. He does that sometimes, retreats into his own head, doesn't talk about things. They give him a certain amount of time and space until he's ready to talk and comes to them on his own, always putting the offer out, but if it goes on too long, they coerce it out of him. He comes to them on his own most of the time. They make sure he knows he can.

"You're going to be great," Harry says, softly. "You have your father's brains, after all. He was brilliant at this stuff when he was young. I have no doubt you will be too."

Teddy bends down slightly to meet Scorpius' eyes, a hand on his shoulder. "And you don't have to worry about anyone bothering you, because if they do, I'll fucking ruin them—"

Harry and Draco stand up to their feet, lifting a disapproving eyebrow at him. Teddy grimaces, knowing he's in for a lecture.

"We appreciate that you want to look out for Scorpius," Harry says, slowly. "But you are not allowed to use language like that until you're an adult. Understand?"

Teddy rolls his eyes. "People in my year say it all the time. It's not that big of a deal."

Draco crosses his arms over his chest at Harry's shoulder. "If people in your year jumped off the Astronomy Tower, is that what you ought to do as well?"

"Oh please. There is a world's difference between swearing and jumping off the bloody Astronomy—"

"That's strike two, mister," Harry cuts off sternly. "Strike three and you're getting your mouth Scourgify-ed in front of the whole of Hogwarts Express."

"Whatever," Teddy says, rolling his eyes again. "Scorp. You don't have to worry, okay? I'll take care of you."

"And we're here too, for both of you," Harry says. He brushes a hand over Scorpius' head and pats Teddy's shoulder. He pulls them both into his sides for a hug. "If anything happens, just owl us."

"We'll help you sort it out," Draco says, wrapping an arm around Teddy and putting a hand over Scorpius' head, drawing him in against his side.

Draco gives Harry a look over their heads. Harry smiles. It'll be okay.

He puts a hand to Scorpius' shoulder, bending down to murmur. Scorpius looks up at his father and nods, following him as Draco takes his hand and guides him over to the side. Harry watches as he crouches down before Scorpius, elbows hanging off his knees. He's talking to him, meeting his eyes carefully, and Scorpius is listening with rapt attention. Harry doesn't need to look too closely to know that his hands are quivering, because he knows all of Draco's nervous tics and distressed habits by now.

"Do you reckon they'll be alright?" Teddy asks, his shoulder under Harry's arm as they watch them.

"I don't doubt it," Harry says. "Scorpius is a smart and strong kid, isn't he?" In the end, he doesn't think anything in the world can come above his father for him.

Draco goes quiet, then, looking at Scorpius as he waits for a response, but he isn't saying anything either. Scorpius looks like he doesn't know how to react. Draco leans in slightly, his lips shaping around the words 'how do you feel?'. Scorpius takes a moment, and then he says something, and Draco's face wavers. He smiles softly, then, a little too composed, and then reaches out to brush a hand over Scorpius' head carefully, making sure not to ruin his hair. He nods in understanding, and then takes Scorpius' hands, holding his gaze as he speaks next, full of promise and reassurance.

"Harry!"

He and Teddy turn around at the voices. Harry grins.

Ron and Hermione are walking over, with six-year old Hugo holding Hermione's hand and seven-months old Rose in Ron's arms.

Harry and Teddy hug Hermione hello, pats Ron's shoulder because they can't do much else with Rose between them. Harry shakes Hugo's little hand, who gives him a baby-toothed grin, and takes Rose up in his arms. Teddy gives a high-five to Hugo and sets to talking to him and Ron.

"Is everything alright?" Hermione nods to Draco and Scorpius.

Harry shrugs. He wipes the drool off of Rose's chin gently with his sleeve. "I don't know about now. But I know it will be."

Hermione seems to understand.

"It's so strange, isn't it?" she says, glancing around. There are parents all around with children and their trolleys, hugs and kisses exchanged, a chorus of chatter surrounding them. Students are bustling into the trains, even though it's still quite early. "How time has passed. One day Ron and I'll be standing here too, sending off Hugo, and then Rose…"

"Remember when we didn't think we'd even make it past eighteen? Or at least I didn't." Hermione shares a rueful smile with him. She reaches out and strokes Rose' hair. "Fifteen years later, my best friends are married, I have nieces and nephews, two boys that I'm going to raise with a gorgeous man, whom I'm now also dreaming about marrying—" He pauses, exhales out an awed breath, grinning. He turns his head to look at Hermione. "who would have thought it'd all turn out like this for us?"

Hermione smiles. "It turned out well."

"It turned out well."

"So," Hermione says, raising her eyebrows as her smile grows wider. She nods at Draco. "When are you proposing?"

Harry shrugs. He glances over at Draco, who is standing up and walking over with Scorpius. "I'm waiting for the right time. Think he'll say yes?" He winks at her.

"The way he looks at you?" Hermione snorts. "Hardly a question, Harry. There is no way he won't."

…

Dear Dad,

I hope you've been well. I am well. My classes are going well so far too. We had a Charms Test this week, our first one, and I got the highest score. It was pretty easy though, except for this one really hard bonus question. It took some thinking, but I got it.

I made friends. Jamie Howell is muggbleborn, and he talks about all these fascinating things that I think even Mr. Weasley might not know about in the muggle science world. I think I'd like to tell him all about it when we visit them for Christmas. My other friend is Milo, and he's very calming to be around. We just sit and study quietly sometimes in the Hufflepuff common room, and other times, we talk a lot about some pretty weird and interesting stuff. He reminds me a little of Luna. 

I'm sorry I've been so short in my replies these days. I've been a bit busy, but there was also a lot that I wanted to work out before I got back to you, and don't get angry at Harry, Dad, I told him not to tell you, but I've been owling him and Dr. Styne and they helped me understand a lot of what I think and feel about what you told me. I'm still trying to wrap my head around the Death-Eater part. I've just always seen you as this perfect and wonderful human being. 

I still see you as wonderful. I guess I just think maybe you should have told me a lot sooner, when you would have been here. Harry told me you just wanted me to see you the way I always have for as long as I could, and I understand, but I still think you should have.

He also tells me you've been sad these days. I'm sorry, Dad. I didn't mean to make you sad. I just needed some time.

Thank you for always offering to let me talk or ask about anything in all your letters.

People say things sometimes. I mean, they mostly leave me alone. I think it has a lot to do with Teddy always being there. He's made it known to the whole school that no one is supposed to mess with me, and sometimes he, Ava and Magnus come and sit with me and my friends, and he's always saying hi to us in the halls, so most people are okay with me because they respect Teddy. And people love Harry, of course, so that's one more reason they are okay with me. They ask me a lot of questions about him.  But Teddy isn't always here and there are still people that say things about you, about me. They call you evil and they call me 'Death-Eater spawn', and it hurts. It makes me so angry that I end up doing things to them without meaning to. I try to control my magic, but it acts up and I can't stop no matter how much I try to.

I'm angry, but not at you.

I don't hate you, if that is what you're afraid of. I never could. I never will.

I know that there are all these people that know this whole other person that you were before I was ever even here, but I only know my Daddy. I only know who you are now, who you've always been my whole life.

So remember this: you are smart, brave, strong and good, and I love you more than anything in the world, okay? I love you so much, and I am here. I am always going to be here. ***

With Love,

           Your Star

(Scorpius A. Malfoy)

…

The right time, it turns out, is in the middle of a spontaneous dance in their living room, in front of the window where the evening daylights are pouring in on them. Draco's chin is atop his wrist on Harry's shoulder, both of them moving in a light, deliberate sway, quiet and peaceful.

"Do you want to marry me?" Harry murmurs into his ear, his hands on his waist as they rotate around in slow circles of small steps.

Draco raises his head to look at him, startled, stilling the dance. The underside of his wrists are still pressed to his shoulders. "Harry..." He's staring at him, baffled, and then breaks into a breathless grin. 

"Do you think," Harry touches his temple to his, tipping his chin up with a smile. "you'll be able to stand me for the rest of our lives?" 

"I could try really hard," Draco whispers, his eyes closed as he pushes his forehead in against his. He's still smiling too, his cheeks pinked with it.

"I think we'll make it work, then," he whispers back. He lets go of Draco with one hand to take the box out of his pocket and opens it with his thumb.

He slides the ring over Draco's finger, a silver metallic band with intricate patterns, and then kisses him softly.

"We'll have it on Christmas Holidays, so that Teddy and Scorpius can be there," Draco says, putting his arms back around Harry's neck. The soft piano and violin melody plays on from behind them.

"A winter wedding," Harry says, thoughtfully, hands coming to rest on Draco's waist again. "I'd like that. Somewhere with snow. Only with family and friends."

Draco hums in agreement. "And I'll be picking the dress robes, seeing as I have the better fashion sense."

Harry frowns at him. "Hey. My fashion sense has improved."

Draco sniffs, haughty. "Only since I came into your life."

Harry holds back a snort, rolling his eyes. "Fine. You do that."

"Who's to be our best man?"

"Teddy, Scorpius or Ron," Harry says, in a heartbeat. "But Ron knows too many embarrassing things about me."

Draco raises an eyebrow, smirking. "Well, I'm certainly tempted now, just to hear what he might have to say."

"Probably a lot about how annoying we've been all these years," Harry says. "Hugo as ringbearer and Rose as flower girl?"

"Cute. Who'll walk you?"

"Molly and Arthur, of course. They're the closest thing I have to parents."

Draco's lips twist in something rueful, and they go silent for a moment. Harry thinks he might be thinking of his parents, just like Harry is of his own.

They would have loved Draco, and how happy he makes Harry. He knows this. He hopes Draco's mum would have loved him too. Well, eventually.

"I'd like Scorpius to walk me down the aisle," Draco says, then.

Harry kisses his nose, smiling. "That's brilliant. Groomspeople? Seeing as we have the same circle, we can split."

"I'll take Luna," Draco says, after a considering moment. "If she'll want to stand with me."

"Of course she'll want to stand with you." Harry shakes his head, bemused that Draco doubts this. "Anyone will want to. You've just got to ask." He holds up a hand, counting off. "Luna, Neville, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Charlie, George, Bill and Fleur.  That's nine people as groomspeople options, if I'm not missing anyone. So take your pick."

Draco's lips press together in a thin line, uncertain. "Charlie as well, I suppose. We get on well." He also adores Scorpius, who always wants to listen to his adventures as a dragon-trainer. "They're all closer to you. I don't mind that, but the general rule is that you have the people you're closest to standing at your side."

"Look," Harry starts. "Hermione likes you, or else she wouldn't look for you whenever she wants to ramble about things that nobody else understands a word of. Ron likes you, even though he'll never say it. Even Arthur likes you at this point, and you know how much he didn't want to. George and Ginny think you're hilarious. You take a genuine interest in Luna's wild theories and ideas, and she loves you for it. Molly thinks you're the politest gentleman ever, and if she didn't adore you, she wouldn't have bothered knitting you Christmas sweaters for the last three years. Any of them would love to be at your side." Harry kisses him on the mouth, and then again, holding his face with delicate fingers to his jaw. "They love you, do you understand? You are loved, Draco Malfoy."

Draco rolls his eyes, but there's a splotch of colour high up his jaw, on his cheeks. "You care about this more than I do."

"And you have a very hard time acknowledging that people care about you."

Draco shrugs, but his throat bobs. It's a very subtle movement. "Well. It's never been a long list."

"Well, it's a long list now. Stop arguing with me."

"I'm not arguing with you."

"Yes you are."

"I'm not arguing with you. You're arguing with me."

"And now you're arguing with me about not arguing with me."

Draco sighs longsufferingly. "I think we should call the wedding off. I'm second-guessing whether I can stand you for the rest of our lives."

Harry laughs, leaning his head on his shoulder, Draco's smile against his cheek. He lifts his head and looks at his face, green meeting silver. "Too late. You've already said yes to being stuck with my fine arse for life."

…

On the nineteenth of December, surrounded by snowfall under an arch of flowers and leaves, Draco Malfoy-Potter steps forward, grabs his husband by the face and kisses him hard.

When he looks at his life these days, he sees a big black sky full of millions of stars. There are so many of them that sometimes he can only see the stars and not notice the big black sky at all.

~FIN~