Angel on the Cover chapter 21
Title: Angel on the Cover
Author: chibidraco
Beta: noscrubs12345
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related characters do not belong to me.
Warnings: mpreg
Word Count: 4,465 (this chapter)
Summary: Harry Potter has left for the muggle world a year after he defeats Voldemort.
Draco Malfoy struggles to make a life for himself as he has to find employment, while dealing with the biological present that Harry left behind. (My memory is purposely selective when it comes to HBP and DH- you'll see )
TO start from the beginning start HERE , there are links at the bottom , to the next chapters
A month later he finds himself tucked into what has become his chair at the Granger-Weasley dining table. At first, Draco had been reluctant to attend the dinners with Harry, but his boyfriend’s hopeful expression had done much to break down his hesitation. After all, this is what he wanted from Harry, for him to move on and get back to normal, and he couldn't expect that normalcy would not include the trio spending time together. He also couldn't keep them at a distance if he wanted to make Harry happy. It was all about compromise. It had taken a while for him to understand that, although he could appreciate he was getting a lot back in return from his low maintenance beau. The pair weren't so bad, either, especially now he was expecting their nephew.
"So, how’s it going with work, Harry?"
"It's pretty good. I've closed about four cases so far, changed their probation status and things like that. There have been some people that are only guilty of having Death Eater family members," Harry answered with a shrug.
"That's great. I always thought the system should be more just. I've actually submitted various reports to Shacklebolt about it, showing the correlation between the rehabilitation success rate and level of treatment. Would you like to read them?" Hermione offered.
"It's all right. You can send it to me later," Harry answered, stuffing his mouth full of three-bean casserole.
"Yeah, let the man eat, ‘Mione."
"I'm not telling him to stop, Ronald. I'm just trying to help him with his new position."
"I wouldn't mind reading it if you don't mind." Draco said, and Hermione gave him a pleased smile.
"Of course not, Draco. It's a pleasure to have someone who actually wants to expand their knowledge."
Draco could make out Ron playfully mouthing "suck up" from behind his wife.
He gave him a small smirk, which morphed into a smile when he saw Harry was smiling widely at him.
After they'd eaten dinner, Ron and Harry excused themselves and began clearing the table, allowing Hermione and Draco to spread documents on the tabletop.
After the second meal they shared, he'd realised they could take advantage of the arrangement, and began ironing out the details of the school with Hermione after the dinners, leaving Harry and Ron to entertain themselves.
The two men often went off into the living room to discuss Quidditch matches or work or Muggle television or whatever else it was they spoke about when the female part of their trio wasn't there to supervise them.
They worked for fifteen minutes or so, looking over each other’s plans, making notes when Hermione came across something that caught her attention.
"Counselling programs?" Hermione looked up from her note taking.
Draco set aside his quill and marked the spot on his page.
"You would be able to tell me if it's needed or not, but it would be for the Muggleborns that have to deal with unsupportive family members. I’m not going to turn anyone away, but there has to be some kind of contract that prevents jealous siblings from outing the magical world," Draco tried to explain.
"What frightened and, in turn, angered my father was the persecution of our people if one Muggleborn family decided to reveal our society to the world, and that we have to hide like second class citizens, while they get to expand their world all around us."
"There must be a separation, I agree on that. What pureblood enthusiasts," she said diplomatically, "don't realise is we are wizards through circumstance. Sure there are wizarding families that have been established since long ago, but how do they explain random children around the world being born with magic to non-magical families? We have to maintain a secret society to avoid discovery, but we can't close it off to any magical person, Muggleborn or not."
"That’s true, but what about the families who think magic is unnatural?"
"Like the Dursleys." She pursed her lips.
Draco nodded.
"It could have been so easy for Dudley to tell everyone what Harry could do just because he couldn't." He frowned, thinking of how hard it'd been for his boyfriend living with people who called him a freak.
"Thank you," Hermione said suddenly.
His eyebrows furrowed, not understanding what she was thanking him for.
"For loving Harry so much, I guess." She shook her head. "I'm just glad he's back. Both of you needed each other. We've been so worried. He hasn't told us why he left and we don't want to pry, but...."
She looked so tortured in that moment. The small part of him that wanted to tell her to mind her own business was easily smothered. They were Harry's best friends, and had risked their own lives time and again alongside his fiancée. What was more, during the time they worked together he'd come to consider Hermione his friend as well.
"Hermione, do you believe clairvoyance can appear suddenly?"
She was visibly taken aback by what she perceived was a change in topic, but gathered herself to answer.
"You mean like Divination? I've never placed much stock in that ‘ability,’ to be honest." She frowned a little.
"I remember Pansy got great pleasure from telling everyone it was one subject you did not excel at, and she was not remiss on spreading the word about your dramatic exit either."
Hermione smiled back, not at all upset. "It was ridiculous, and Trelawney was a fraud. I wasn't about to lie about what I saw or didn't see in those cups."
"I always thought it was a bit frivolous too,” he agreed, “but Pansy loved to read tea leaves--loudly--in the common room. Of course, every prediction she made always ended in us getting married." He smirked.
"I think that's proof positive right there it's all a bunch of nonsense. That and the fact Harry and Ron would invent the most outlandish futures, and she would still give them full marks," she complained.
Draco smiled. Harry had mentioned that to him in the past. His smile slowly faded, centring himself once more on what he wanted to ask her.
"I was not referring to Trelawney, though, but her great-great-grandmother. Genuine seers, you know? Do you think it's possible for a witch or wizard to suddenly develop precognition?
"To suddenly experience visions?" he elaborated at Hermione’s confused look.
"I'm not sure. I never studied much about it." She seemed a bit embarrassed, as if she was missing a part of her otherwise well rounded education. “Divination put me off the subject. Not to mention Harry's prophecy..." Her eyes widened in discernment.
"Are we talking about Harry? Did he have visions of some sort?"
He nodded affirmatively and spared a look toward the doorway, but he could still hear the sound of the television so he continued. "It was the reason he left. He had a couple of harmless visions, all of which came true. Then he had one of me. Something happens to me, and Harry thinks I die." He wrapped his hand around his stomach instinctively at the words.
"What did he see exactly?" She leaned forward, her elbows firmly on the tabletop.
"He says he sees me in pain. I'm obviously pregnant. There's blood on his hands, and he hears Severus telling him it's all his fault." When Harry had initially explained it, he'd been so overwhelmed with the feeling of abandonment that had been building over those long four months he'd only felt relief to be reassured he was still loved to process much else.
It might be all the plans he was making for the future that needed his personal attention. More likely, it was because the closer he grew to the birth of his son the more apprehensive he was of this vision. He carried a very important life under his heart that depended on him to survive the possibly tragic future his other father envisioned for them.
The baby kicked as if in agreement with the fervent sentiment, but Draco knew it was probably a response to his own frantically beating heart and accumulating stress. Hermione took his hand between her own smaller ones, her face full of determination and encouragement. "You will be fine," she reassured him, much as he had tried to relieve Harry's panic in this same apartment two months ago.
"I will begin to research. There has to be an answer to why Harry suddenly developed divinatory abilities."
Draco smiled a bit. If the answer lay in research, then Hermione would certainly be the most apt person for the assignment. The sound of the television going off robbed him of his smile, and he turned over his hand until he was holding hers.
"You cannot tell Harry. He hasn't mentioned a word of this since then, and I'm not about to drudge it up just as he's starting to get closure. You saw the articles on his wall." She had been as horrified as he’d been when they saw the ghastly reminders Harry surrounded himself with in that dump. He squeezed her hands a little, unable to help himself, until she nodded. She agreed just as they heard approaching footsteps and snippets of conversation.
He admired the ease with which she regained her composure and the cheerful tone she seamlessly adopted as if the mood had not turned dark a moment ago.
"Okay, I think we made a lot of progress. How's the wedding planning going, by the way? Can I do anything to help?" Hermione asked, pulling away her hands just as Ron and Harry stepped in the doorway. She began collecting the spread papers off the tabletop and shuffling them into order.
"Really well considering I've left it in Pansy's able hands." Draco had decided that with as many things as he sought to accomplish he could accept help in other parts of his life as well.
"Oh, ‘Mione, she comes over with pieces of cloth and demands that I pick my favourite, but I swear she shows me the same colours just to drive me mad!" Harry complained, taking a seat next to Draco and draping his arm around his chair.
Draco laughed, playing with Harry's fingers that hung around his shoulders. "Harry, as much as she loves to tease, I assure you all the colour swatches are different."
"There can't possibly be twenty shades of green," Harry scoffed, curling his fingers around Draco's.
"Actually, there are a multitude of colours that can be achieved by just moving slightly along the spectrum," Hermione replied. Her husband rolled his eyes heavenward and jumped when she elbowed him in the side without turning to look at him.
"How does she always know?" Ron asked Harry, flummoxed his wife seemed to have developed his mother’s talent of having eyes in the back of her head.
"She knows you, mate. You have been crazy about each other since first year," Harry teased.
"No, I thought she was barmy in first year," Ron whispered theatrically before turning and gathering his resisting wife into an embrace. "I'm just kidding. You just scared me because you were so brilliant."
The other three laughed at the outrageous batting of his lashes.
"Okay, that's enough of you." She gave him a quick kiss and pushed him back into his own seat.
"So, you don't need anything?"
"Just your presence," Draco answered. "You should be receiving the invitation by tomorrow. We plan to wed on Saturday."
"But that's only five days away! Well, four since today is almost over," she replied in surprise.
"I'm sorry guys, but Pansy was just able to get the hall," Harry explained with a regretful shrug.
"It's all right. I remember from our wedding you have to grab some reservations at the convenience of the establishments and not your own. Where is it going to be held?"
"Somewhere in France."
"Chateau Vaux Le Vicomte will be hosting our wedding and reception," Draco clarified.
"Harry!" Hermione gave him a look of fond exasperation. "Only you would describe Vaux-Le-Vicomte as a hall."
"I don't remember those things, ‘Mione. I don't care where I marry Draco as long as I do," Harry tried to defend himself, blushing when he saw the look of glee on his friend’s face. She looked like she was ready to let out an ‘aww' at any moment.
"One of the other reasons we're doing it so quickly," Draco drew the attention to him to avoid any remarks on how cute they were, "is to avoid me having to waddle down the aisle." His sixth month pregnant belly was already beginning to show and, in jeans and a jumper, he seemed to have a small gut sticking out from his lean frame.
"And we figured the later the notice, the better we can avoid word from spreading and having unwanted guests."
"Oh, right, mate. You don't want Skeeter coming snooping around." Ron gave his friend a sympathetic smile.
"Precisely. The invitations state the date and time with instructions on where to pick up Portkeys the morning of the ceremony," Draco explained.
"Except you guys. Draco's house elf will deliver the Portkeys to you on Friday night." Harry ignored Hermione’s censuring look at the mention of house elves.
"Why Friday?" Ron asked, confused with the cloak and dagger routine.
"That's the best part. Draco booked rooms for the weekend for all of you."
"Our closest family and friends." Draco made the distinction, resting back against Harry's arm.
"Wow, that's really generous of you."
Draco shook his head at Hermione’s comment. "We thought it would make up for the short notice, and you are all very important to Harry. And to me." He added the last bit a little softer, but no one called him on it.
"Well, it's going to be difficult finding a gift, but we would not miss it for the world." Ron nodded enthusiastically beside her. Then he had all of them laughing with his next comment.
"We're not about to turn down a free holiday at some fancy French hotel. Happy Early Anniversary, Hermione!"
X x x X x x X
Four days really wasn't much time. That fact seemed very clear to Draco when he found himself dressing in one of the state rooms of the chateau. Ninety-six hours could pass in the blink of an eye. Hermione informed Draco she had managed to receive permission to utilize the Hogwarts library, and, among a running commentary of the necessity of providing a competing library in Le Jardin and complaints of the lack of public library system in the wizarding world, she reassured him she was reading all she could on the subject of prophetic dreams.
He wasn't sure what a public library was, but he was certain he could look forward to her explaining it in the future. In the meantime, he made it a point to put it off his mind and enjoy his upcoming nuptials, determined not to ruin the experience for himself.
"Everything is in place." Pansy pushed aside his hands to smooth the lapels of his robes, making sure the vest and shirt he wore beneath were not crumpled.
"I've already given the robes to your Gryffindor. Are you sure I can't give him a trim before the ceremony?" She pulled a pair of scissors from her robe pocket.
"No, Pansy, leave his hair alone," he told her for what felt like the fifth time in an hour.
"Fine, I won’t touch your beloved’s coiffure," she muttered, vanishing the scissors. "I must inform you, though, his hairstyle is not nearly as appealing to the rest of us as it seems to be to you."
"That's fine, Pansy." He preferred his Harry rumpled anyway.
"Gregory and Vincent are already groomed and seated. I won't even tell you how long that took. Blaise is late, but that's to be expected of the vain prat. The flowers have been checked for freshness, the house elves have prepared the food and drinks, and the gardens are looking perfect. By the way..."
Draco could only nod, listening to her spout off the list of things she had to double and tripled check, taken aback by how well she'd coordinated everything. Pansy had really gone to great lengths to insure the wedding was perfect and went off without a hitch. He felt warmed by her efforts, especially because she had waved off any mention of compensation, claiming this was her present to them, and not even attempting to hold a favour in return.
"I think you may have met your calling."
"Helping others get married, you mean? Do you think I need employment because I can't find a husband of my own?" She glowered at him, planting her fists on her lilac robes.
"Has Blaise been antagonising you?" He was surprised at how sharp and out of nowhere her response had seemed. "I simply suggest it because you have proven your talent for throwing together a beautiful ceremony in very little time." Draco was not above praising her to maintain the peace for his wedding.
Her hands uncurled from the formed fists and cupped her waist instead in a looser, less confrontational pose.
"Blaise is a tosser." She glared a bit before she smiled. "But you may have a point. I always did have impeccable taste, and it may give me something to do until I find myself a rich husband."
He looked at her pretty face, framed by its chic bob, and figured she would not have much problem accomplishing that, although he did feel a little bad for whomever it was she eventually ensnared.
"I also hired a photographer. Dean Thomas. I believe you know him."
"He's on the guest list, though, and I didn't realise he did weddings."
Draco's brow furrowed. From what he'd understood, he was an artist who created art on canvas and through photography. "He doesn't usually. He was actually insulted I asked, but I got him to agree to do Potter's," Pansy replied smugly. "I think you'll like his style. It seems very natural. He'll go about taking candid pictures of everything."
"I thought it would be better for Potter that way rather than making him pose. That man is a horrible subject."
Draco smiled, but didn't call her on her thoughtfulness. The shots in magazines still had a hard time capturing pictures of Harry where he would actually stay in the frame; having a friend take them would be more comfortable for him.
"There. You look perfect. Just as I imagined you would on your wedding day,” she said with satisfaction, moving away to let him see himself in the full-length mirror.
"You imagined me six months pregnant marrying the golden boy?" he teased, recalling her tea leaves predictions.
"You know what, Draco? I'm glad I got over that school girl crush. Otherwise, this would be quite awkward," she mused, looking at him all ready to marry another.
X x x X x x X
Harry had managed not to trip over his feet walking down the aisle or his words when he recited the vows, but he still felt like he was falling. There was a nervous energy in him that could not be relieved with his success at not embarrassing himself at this public function because it did not stem from that.
Last night, he'd woken in the wee hours of the morning, light barely peeking over the horizon, from the same horrible vision. He realised, sitting up in bed, this was the first time since he left for New York he had experienced any visions at all.
He did not tell Draco; he knew his now husband would worry and he already had enough things to contend with. He would try to figure it out on his own, and make sure Draco was protected in the meantime. There were many Death Eaters who would not hesitate to exact revenge on Harry using Draco and their unborn child.
"With that expression one would think you’re already regretting marrying me," Draco commented, walking back from his visit to the loo.
"Of course I wanted to marry you." Harry brought his husband into the cradle of his arms.
Draco looked at him intently. "Then what's wrong? You seem really out of sorts."
He tried to say nothing, but the probing look got to him until he knew he had to confess. He looked around, but no one was near their corner; they were all keeping a respectable distance from the newlyweds. Dean was closer, but he was snapping shots of the guests with his back to them.
"I just...I had the vision again," he muttered.
"What a macabre omen to the beginning of our marriage," Draco murmured, an odd expression crossing his face too quickly for Harry to determine what it meant.
"Don't joke about it." Harry pulled him flush against him. "I won't let anything happen to you,” he promised speaking into Draco's blond hair.
"It will be fine," Draco whispered against his neck.
"Let's go mingle with our guests, Harry, and get this nasty business off your mind." He pulled out of the embrace and led Harry out of their corner.
As soon as they were in open space, Molly fell on them with the precision of a most experienced hunter.
"There you are! I wanted to thank you again. You didn't have to pay for our stay, especially at such a posh hotel."
"It was our pleasure," Draco reassured her.
"Thank you, dears. Where are you going for your honeymoon?"
"We're actually going to spend the weekend here, and on Monday I'm going back to work," Harry answered, catching sight of Remus and motioning to him to join them. Severus was with him, carrying Teddy in his arms.
"Why not? You need to take advantage now when you don't have a newborn and can relax on the beach somewhere."
"There is too much to do right now. We’ll wait until a few months after the baby is born. We've both been on holiday for too long." Draco's words were kind of true. They'd been away too long during their self imposed exiles.
"I understand. Arthur and I never really managed to go on a honeymoon ourselves. Just remember you can always leave the little tyke with me. I have plenty experience," she reminded them with a hopeful smile.
Draco just smiled and nodded appreciatively, but he wasn't sure when he would be ready to go anywhere without his son. Maybe by the time he was Hogwarts bound....
"And what about you two?" she asked the two men joining them. Severus and Remus stopped at her words.
“You’re raising a child and living together. When are you going get married and give Teddy a proper family?" Draco knew Molly was only trying to help, but her advice was often delivered as edicts, and Draco was not surprised at Severus' reaction.
Just as Teddy was waving hello to Harry and Draco, Severus replied to Molly, "Mind your business, madam." In one fluid movement, he turned on his heel and began to depart.
"Bye, Harry. Bye, Draco," Teddy called over his shoulder before patting the head in front him. "Sevy, where we go?"
"Away from busybodies, and I'll let you eat one piece of cake."
"Yay!" Ted called out bye to the group before turning and pointing in the direction of the cake table in case ‘Sevy’ didn't know where it was.
Remus stayed behind, and it was obvious he was trying to hold back laughter at Molly's affronted expression. When he regained his composure, he turned to the frowning older woman and reassured her.
"We're fine just the way we are, Molly. This works for us."
"What works for you?" she asked, baffled. "What exactly is happening between you?" They watched the dour man sitting down at a table with Teddy, handing him a small plate and fork.
"What goes on in a man's home is often a mystery to all," Remus answered vaguely.
"Now, these gentlemen were ideal for marriage," he said smoothly, returning the attention to Harry and Draco. "Congratulations. The ceremony was beautifully executed."
They smiled at his handling of the situation and thanked him for attending.
"Come on, Molly. A big smile for Dean," he cajoled the woman, manoeuvring her toward the photographer.
Harry pulled his new husband closer with an arm around his waist, smiling for his friend. Taking pictures did not feel like a chore with his love in his arms.
X x x X x x X
There was something so erotic about holding onto Draco's fecund form when he thrust into him, the sensation of his son moving beneath his hand proof he was growing bigger and stronger every day. His intention to be gentle was short lived with Draco's gasps of pleasure and demands for him to move faster and harder. Who was Harry to deny him?
The images from their honeymoon clung to Harry even now when he was supposed to be concentrating on his work.
"Okay, Potter! Get to it!" he encouraged himself, grabbing a stack of older cases from the box sent to him that morning. Regardless of Draco's reassurances, he knew he had to be on alert. Danger could be anywhere.
'Constant Vigilance, Potter!' he heard Mad-Eye Moody's motto in his head.
He grabbed the files, sorting them into piles that required different actions. He was lost in his work for a while before coming across a familiar name.
Jerrod Nott.
Wasn't that Theodore's father?
Theodore Nott's folder was not in the stack; it had never been opened because he had died at the hands of Voldemort before the war ended. Harry didn't need a file to remind him of his crimes, though. He would never forget the person who had let the Death Eaters into the school, who'd put them all at risk and attempted to kill Dumbledore. He remembered all too clearly being immobilised under his invisibility cloak, helplessly watching the tall, weedy teen threatening Albus in the Astronomy Tower. Nott had eventually lowered his wand, but it had been too late, and Snape had carried through with his promise to the headmaster.
After Nott's flee from Hogwarts, the next time he'd heard mention of him was when his body had been found on the stoop of his own home, punished by Voldemort for failing to complete his task. Harry thought he could remember having a copy of the article on the wall of his flat in New York. Well, had before Draco had thrown all of his war articles away.
In Jerrod's file, there was some information about his involvement in the Battle of the Department of Mysteries; Harry remembered the man had attempted to grab onto him. Hermione had stunned him, and they'd taken him to Azkaban. He had not personally seen him afterward, so he wasn't fresh in his mind.
There were comments in the folder he'd been one of the escapees from Azkaban during the second war. His last known whereabouts had been his home, but no one had seen or heard from him since the death of his son.
Would this one even be eligible for recovery?
'Might as well start somewhere,' Harry thought, getting out a parchment and quill.
Thanks for reading !
Chapter Twenty Two
Author: chibidraco
Beta: noscrubs12345
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related characters do not belong to me.
Warnings: mpreg
Word Count: 4,465 (this chapter)
Summary: Harry Potter has left for the muggle world a year after he defeats Voldemort.
Draco Malfoy struggles to make a life for himself as he has to find employment, while dealing with the biological present that Harry left behind. (My memory is purposely selective when it comes to HBP and DH- you'll see )
TO start from the beginning start HERE , there are links at the bottom , to the next chapters
A month later he finds himself tucked into what has become his chair at the Granger-Weasley dining table. At first, Draco had been reluctant to attend the dinners with Harry, but his boyfriend’s hopeful expression had done much to break down his hesitation. After all, this is what he wanted from Harry, for him to move on and get back to normal, and he couldn't expect that normalcy would not include the trio spending time together. He also couldn't keep them at a distance if he wanted to make Harry happy. It was all about compromise. It had taken a while for him to understand that, although he could appreciate he was getting a lot back in return from his low maintenance beau. The pair weren't so bad, either, especially now he was expecting their nephew.
"So, how’s it going with work, Harry?"
"It's pretty good. I've closed about four cases so far, changed their probation status and things like that. There have been some people that are only guilty of having Death Eater family members," Harry answered with a shrug.
"That's great. I always thought the system should be more just. I've actually submitted various reports to Shacklebolt about it, showing the correlation between the rehabilitation success rate and level of treatment. Would you like to read them?" Hermione offered.
"It's all right. You can send it to me later," Harry answered, stuffing his mouth full of three-bean casserole.
"Yeah, let the man eat, ‘Mione."
"I'm not telling him to stop, Ronald. I'm just trying to help him with his new position."
"I wouldn't mind reading it if you don't mind." Draco said, and Hermione gave him a pleased smile.
"Of course not, Draco. It's a pleasure to have someone who actually wants to expand their knowledge."
Draco could make out Ron playfully mouthing "suck up" from behind his wife.
He gave him a small smirk, which morphed into a smile when he saw Harry was smiling widely at him.
After they'd eaten dinner, Ron and Harry excused themselves and began clearing the table, allowing Hermione and Draco to spread documents on the tabletop.
After the second meal they shared, he'd realised they could take advantage of the arrangement, and began ironing out the details of the school with Hermione after the dinners, leaving Harry and Ron to entertain themselves.
The two men often went off into the living room to discuss Quidditch matches or work or Muggle television or whatever else it was they spoke about when the female part of their trio wasn't there to supervise them.
They worked for fifteen minutes or so, looking over each other’s plans, making notes when Hermione came across something that caught her attention.
"Counselling programs?" Hermione looked up from her note taking.
Draco set aside his quill and marked the spot on his page.
"You would be able to tell me if it's needed or not, but it would be for the Muggleborns that have to deal with unsupportive family members. I’m not going to turn anyone away, but there has to be some kind of contract that prevents jealous siblings from outing the magical world," Draco tried to explain.
"What frightened and, in turn, angered my father was the persecution of our people if one Muggleborn family decided to reveal our society to the world, and that we have to hide like second class citizens, while they get to expand their world all around us."
"There must be a separation, I agree on that. What pureblood enthusiasts," she said diplomatically, "don't realise is we are wizards through circumstance. Sure there are wizarding families that have been established since long ago, but how do they explain random children around the world being born with magic to non-magical families? We have to maintain a secret society to avoid discovery, but we can't close it off to any magical person, Muggleborn or not."
"That’s true, but what about the families who think magic is unnatural?"
"Like the Dursleys." She pursed her lips.
Draco nodded.
"It could have been so easy for Dudley to tell everyone what Harry could do just because he couldn't." He frowned, thinking of how hard it'd been for his boyfriend living with people who called him a freak.
"Thank you," Hermione said suddenly.
His eyebrows furrowed, not understanding what she was thanking him for.
"For loving Harry so much, I guess." She shook her head. "I'm just glad he's back. Both of you needed each other. We've been so worried. He hasn't told us why he left and we don't want to pry, but...."
She looked so tortured in that moment. The small part of him that wanted to tell her to mind her own business was easily smothered. They were Harry's best friends, and had risked their own lives time and again alongside his fiancée. What was more, during the time they worked together he'd come to consider Hermione his friend as well.
"Hermione, do you believe clairvoyance can appear suddenly?"
She was visibly taken aback by what she perceived was a change in topic, but gathered herself to answer.
"You mean like Divination? I've never placed much stock in that ‘ability,’ to be honest." She frowned a little.
"I remember Pansy got great pleasure from telling everyone it was one subject you did not excel at, and she was not remiss on spreading the word about your dramatic exit either."
Hermione smiled back, not at all upset. "It was ridiculous, and Trelawney was a fraud. I wasn't about to lie about what I saw or didn't see in those cups."
"I always thought it was a bit frivolous too,” he agreed, “but Pansy loved to read tea leaves--loudly--in the common room. Of course, every prediction she made always ended in us getting married." He smirked.
"I think that's proof positive right there it's all a bunch of nonsense. That and the fact Harry and Ron would invent the most outlandish futures, and she would still give them full marks," she complained.
Draco smiled. Harry had mentioned that to him in the past. His smile slowly faded, centring himself once more on what he wanted to ask her.
"I was not referring to Trelawney, though, but her great-great-grandmother. Genuine seers, you know? Do you think it's possible for a witch or wizard to suddenly develop precognition?
"To suddenly experience visions?" he elaborated at Hermione’s confused look.
"I'm not sure. I never studied much about it." She seemed a bit embarrassed, as if she was missing a part of her otherwise well rounded education. “Divination put me off the subject. Not to mention Harry's prophecy..." Her eyes widened in discernment.
"Are we talking about Harry? Did he have visions of some sort?"
He nodded affirmatively and spared a look toward the doorway, but he could still hear the sound of the television so he continued. "It was the reason he left. He had a couple of harmless visions, all of which came true. Then he had one of me. Something happens to me, and Harry thinks I die." He wrapped his hand around his stomach instinctively at the words.
"What did he see exactly?" She leaned forward, her elbows firmly on the tabletop.
"He says he sees me in pain. I'm obviously pregnant. There's blood on his hands, and he hears Severus telling him it's all his fault." When Harry had initially explained it, he'd been so overwhelmed with the feeling of abandonment that had been building over those long four months he'd only felt relief to be reassured he was still loved to process much else.
It might be all the plans he was making for the future that needed his personal attention. More likely, it was because the closer he grew to the birth of his son the more apprehensive he was of this vision. He carried a very important life under his heart that depended on him to survive the possibly tragic future his other father envisioned for them.
The baby kicked as if in agreement with the fervent sentiment, but Draco knew it was probably a response to his own frantically beating heart and accumulating stress. Hermione took his hand between her own smaller ones, her face full of determination and encouragement. "You will be fine," she reassured him, much as he had tried to relieve Harry's panic in this same apartment two months ago.
"I will begin to research. There has to be an answer to why Harry suddenly developed divinatory abilities."
Draco smiled a bit. If the answer lay in research, then Hermione would certainly be the most apt person for the assignment. The sound of the television going off robbed him of his smile, and he turned over his hand until he was holding hers.
"You cannot tell Harry. He hasn't mentioned a word of this since then, and I'm not about to drudge it up just as he's starting to get closure. You saw the articles on his wall." She had been as horrified as he’d been when they saw the ghastly reminders Harry surrounded himself with in that dump. He squeezed her hands a little, unable to help himself, until she nodded. She agreed just as they heard approaching footsteps and snippets of conversation.
He admired the ease with which she regained her composure and the cheerful tone she seamlessly adopted as if the mood had not turned dark a moment ago.
"Okay, I think we made a lot of progress. How's the wedding planning going, by the way? Can I do anything to help?" Hermione asked, pulling away her hands just as Ron and Harry stepped in the doorway. She began collecting the spread papers off the tabletop and shuffling them into order.
"Really well considering I've left it in Pansy's able hands." Draco had decided that with as many things as he sought to accomplish he could accept help in other parts of his life as well.
"Oh, ‘Mione, she comes over with pieces of cloth and demands that I pick my favourite, but I swear she shows me the same colours just to drive me mad!" Harry complained, taking a seat next to Draco and draping his arm around his chair.
Draco laughed, playing with Harry's fingers that hung around his shoulders. "Harry, as much as she loves to tease, I assure you all the colour swatches are different."
"There can't possibly be twenty shades of green," Harry scoffed, curling his fingers around Draco's.
"Actually, there are a multitude of colours that can be achieved by just moving slightly along the spectrum," Hermione replied. Her husband rolled his eyes heavenward and jumped when she elbowed him in the side without turning to look at him.
"How does she always know?" Ron asked Harry, flummoxed his wife seemed to have developed his mother’s talent of having eyes in the back of her head.
"She knows you, mate. You have been crazy about each other since first year," Harry teased.
"No, I thought she was barmy in first year," Ron whispered theatrically before turning and gathering his resisting wife into an embrace. "I'm just kidding. You just scared me because you were so brilliant."
The other three laughed at the outrageous batting of his lashes.
"Okay, that's enough of you." She gave him a quick kiss and pushed him back into his own seat.
"So, you don't need anything?"
"Just your presence," Draco answered. "You should be receiving the invitation by tomorrow. We plan to wed on Saturday."
"But that's only five days away! Well, four since today is almost over," she replied in surprise.
"I'm sorry guys, but Pansy was just able to get the hall," Harry explained with a regretful shrug.
"It's all right. I remember from our wedding you have to grab some reservations at the convenience of the establishments and not your own. Where is it going to be held?"
"Somewhere in France."
"Chateau Vaux Le Vicomte will be hosting our wedding and reception," Draco clarified.
"Harry!" Hermione gave him a look of fond exasperation. "Only you would describe Vaux-Le-Vicomte as a hall."
"I don't remember those things, ‘Mione. I don't care where I marry Draco as long as I do," Harry tried to defend himself, blushing when he saw the look of glee on his friend’s face. She looked like she was ready to let out an ‘aww' at any moment.
"One of the other reasons we're doing it so quickly," Draco drew the attention to him to avoid any remarks on how cute they were, "is to avoid me having to waddle down the aisle." His sixth month pregnant belly was already beginning to show and, in jeans and a jumper, he seemed to have a small gut sticking out from his lean frame.
"And we figured the later the notice, the better we can avoid word from spreading and having unwanted guests."
"Oh, right, mate. You don't want Skeeter coming snooping around." Ron gave his friend a sympathetic smile.
"Precisely. The invitations state the date and time with instructions on where to pick up Portkeys the morning of the ceremony," Draco explained.
"Except you guys. Draco's house elf will deliver the Portkeys to you on Friday night." Harry ignored Hermione’s censuring look at the mention of house elves.
"Why Friday?" Ron asked, confused with the cloak and dagger routine.
"That's the best part. Draco booked rooms for the weekend for all of you."
"Our closest family and friends." Draco made the distinction, resting back against Harry's arm.
"Wow, that's really generous of you."
Draco shook his head at Hermione’s comment. "We thought it would make up for the short notice, and you are all very important to Harry. And to me." He added the last bit a little softer, but no one called him on it.
"Well, it's going to be difficult finding a gift, but we would not miss it for the world." Ron nodded enthusiastically beside her. Then he had all of them laughing with his next comment.
"We're not about to turn down a free holiday at some fancy French hotel. Happy Early Anniversary, Hermione!"
X x x X x x X
Four days really wasn't much time. That fact seemed very clear to Draco when he found himself dressing in one of the state rooms of the chateau. Ninety-six hours could pass in the blink of an eye. Hermione informed Draco she had managed to receive permission to utilize the Hogwarts library, and, among a running commentary of the necessity of providing a competing library in Le Jardin and complaints of the lack of public library system in the wizarding world, she reassured him she was reading all she could on the subject of prophetic dreams.
He wasn't sure what a public library was, but he was certain he could look forward to her explaining it in the future. In the meantime, he made it a point to put it off his mind and enjoy his upcoming nuptials, determined not to ruin the experience for himself.
"Everything is in place." Pansy pushed aside his hands to smooth the lapels of his robes, making sure the vest and shirt he wore beneath were not crumpled.
"I've already given the robes to your Gryffindor. Are you sure I can't give him a trim before the ceremony?" She pulled a pair of scissors from her robe pocket.
"No, Pansy, leave his hair alone," he told her for what felt like the fifth time in an hour.
"Fine, I won’t touch your beloved’s coiffure," she muttered, vanishing the scissors. "I must inform you, though, his hairstyle is not nearly as appealing to the rest of us as it seems to be to you."
"That's fine, Pansy." He preferred his Harry rumpled anyway.
"Gregory and Vincent are already groomed and seated. I won't even tell you how long that took. Blaise is late, but that's to be expected of the vain prat. The flowers have been checked for freshness, the house elves have prepared the food and drinks, and the gardens are looking perfect. By the way..."
Draco could only nod, listening to her spout off the list of things she had to double and tripled check, taken aback by how well she'd coordinated everything. Pansy had really gone to great lengths to insure the wedding was perfect and went off without a hitch. He felt warmed by her efforts, especially because she had waved off any mention of compensation, claiming this was her present to them, and not even attempting to hold a favour in return.
"I think you may have met your calling."
"Helping others get married, you mean? Do you think I need employment because I can't find a husband of my own?" She glowered at him, planting her fists on her lilac robes.
"Has Blaise been antagonising you?" He was surprised at how sharp and out of nowhere her response had seemed. "I simply suggest it because you have proven your talent for throwing together a beautiful ceremony in very little time." Draco was not above praising her to maintain the peace for his wedding.
Her hands uncurled from the formed fists and cupped her waist instead in a looser, less confrontational pose.
"Blaise is a tosser." She glared a bit before she smiled. "But you may have a point. I always did have impeccable taste, and it may give me something to do until I find myself a rich husband."
He looked at her pretty face, framed by its chic bob, and figured she would not have much problem accomplishing that, although he did feel a little bad for whomever it was she eventually ensnared.
"I also hired a photographer. Dean Thomas. I believe you know him."
"He's on the guest list, though, and I didn't realise he did weddings."
Draco's brow furrowed. From what he'd understood, he was an artist who created art on canvas and through photography. "He doesn't usually. He was actually insulted I asked, but I got him to agree to do Potter's," Pansy replied smugly. "I think you'll like his style. It seems very natural. He'll go about taking candid pictures of everything."
"I thought it would be better for Potter that way rather than making him pose. That man is a horrible subject."
Draco smiled, but didn't call her on her thoughtfulness. The shots in magazines still had a hard time capturing pictures of Harry where he would actually stay in the frame; having a friend take them would be more comfortable for him.
"There. You look perfect. Just as I imagined you would on your wedding day,” she said with satisfaction, moving away to let him see himself in the full-length mirror.
"You imagined me six months pregnant marrying the golden boy?" he teased, recalling her tea leaves predictions.
"You know what, Draco? I'm glad I got over that school girl crush. Otherwise, this would be quite awkward," she mused, looking at him all ready to marry another.
X x x X x x X
Harry had managed not to trip over his feet walking down the aisle or his words when he recited the vows, but he still felt like he was falling. There was a nervous energy in him that could not be relieved with his success at not embarrassing himself at this public function because it did not stem from that.
Last night, he'd woken in the wee hours of the morning, light barely peeking over the horizon, from the same horrible vision. He realised, sitting up in bed, this was the first time since he left for New York he had experienced any visions at all.
He did not tell Draco; he knew his now husband would worry and he already had enough things to contend with. He would try to figure it out on his own, and make sure Draco was protected in the meantime. There were many Death Eaters who would not hesitate to exact revenge on Harry using Draco and their unborn child.
"With that expression one would think you’re already regretting marrying me," Draco commented, walking back from his visit to the loo.
"Of course I wanted to marry you." Harry brought his husband into the cradle of his arms.
Draco looked at him intently. "Then what's wrong? You seem really out of sorts."
He tried to say nothing, but the probing look got to him until he knew he had to confess. He looked around, but no one was near their corner; they were all keeping a respectable distance from the newlyweds. Dean was closer, but he was snapping shots of the guests with his back to them.
"I just...I had the vision again," he muttered.
"What a macabre omen to the beginning of our marriage," Draco murmured, an odd expression crossing his face too quickly for Harry to determine what it meant.
"Don't joke about it." Harry pulled him flush against him. "I won't let anything happen to you,” he promised speaking into Draco's blond hair.
"It will be fine," Draco whispered against his neck.
"Let's go mingle with our guests, Harry, and get this nasty business off your mind." He pulled out of the embrace and led Harry out of their corner.
As soon as they were in open space, Molly fell on them with the precision of a most experienced hunter.
"There you are! I wanted to thank you again. You didn't have to pay for our stay, especially at such a posh hotel."
"It was our pleasure," Draco reassured her.
"Thank you, dears. Where are you going for your honeymoon?"
"We're actually going to spend the weekend here, and on Monday I'm going back to work," Harry answered, catching sight of Remus and motioning to him to join them. Severus was with him, carrying Teddy in his arms.
"Why not? You need to take advantage now when you don't have a newborn and can relax on the beach somewhere."
"There is too much to do right now. We’ll wait until a few months after the baby is born. We've both been on holiday for too long." Draco's words were kind of true. They'd been away too long during their self imposed exiles.
"I understand. Arthur and I never really managed to go on a honeymoon ourselves. Just remember you can always leave the little tyke with me. I have plenty experience," she reminded them with a hopeful smile.
Draco just smiled and nodded appreciatively, but he wasn't sure when he would be ready to go anywhere without his son. Maybe by the time he was Hogwarts bound....
"And what about you two?" she asked the two men joining them. Severus and Remus stopped at her words.
“You’re raising a child and living together. When are you going get married and give Teddy a proper family?" Draco knew Molly was only trying to help, but her advice was often delivered as edicts, and Draco was not surprised at Severus' reaction.
Just as Teddy was waving hello to Harry and Draco, Severus replied to Molly, "Mind your business, madam." In one fluid movement, he turned on his heel and began to depart.
"Bye, Harry. Bye, Draco," Teddy called over his shoulder before patting the head in front him. "Sevy, where we go?"
"Away from busybodies, and I'll let you eat one piece of cake."
"Yay!" Ted called out bye to the group before turning and pointing in the direction of the cake table in case ‘Sevy’ didn't know where it was.
Remus stayed behind, and it was obvious he was trying to hold back laughter at Molly's affronted expression. When he regained his composure, he turned to the frowning older woman and reassured her.
"We're fine just the way we are, Molly. This works for us."
"What works for you?" she asked, baffled. "What exactly is happening between you?" They watched the dour man sitting down at a table with Teddy, handing him a small plate and fork.
"What goes on in a man's home is often a mystery to all," Remus answered vaguely.
"Now, these gentlemen were ideal for marriage," he said smoothly, returning the attention to Harry and Draco. "Congratulations. The ceremony was beautifully executed."
They smiled at his handling of the situation and thanked him for attending.
"Come on, Molly. A big smile for Dean," he cajoled the woman, manoeuvring her toward the photographer.
Harry pulled his new husband closer with an arm around his waist, smiling for his friend. Taking pictures did not feel like a chore with his love in his arms.
X x x X x x X
There was something so erotic about holding onto Draco's fecund form when he thrust into him, the sensation of his son moving beneath his hand proof he was growing bigger and stronger every day. His intention to be gentle was short lived with Draco's gasps of pleasure and demands for him to move faster and harder. Who was Harry to deny him?
The images from their honeymoon clung to Harry even now when he was supposed to be concentrating on his work.
"Okay, Potter! Get to it!" he encouraged himself, grabbing a stack of older cases from the box sent to him that morning. Regardless of Draco's reassurances, he knew he had to be on alert. Danger could be anywhere.
'Constant Vigilance, Potter!' he heard Mad-Eye Moody's motto in his head.
He grabbed the files, sorting them into piles that required different actions. He was lost in his work for a while before coming across a familiar name.
Jerrod Nott.
Wasn't that Theodore's father?
Theodore Nott's folder was not in the stack; it had never been opened because he had died at the hands of Voldemort before the war ended. Harry didn't need a file to remind him of his crimes, though. He would never forget the person who had let the Death Eaters into the school, who'd put them all at risk and attempted to kill Dumbledore. He remembered all too clearly being immobilised under his invisibility cloak, helplessly watching the tall, weedy teen threatening Albus in the Astronomy Tower. Nott had eventually lowered his wand, but it had been too late, and Snape had carried through with his promise to the headmaster.
After Nott's flee from Hogwarts, the next time he'd heard mention of him was when his body had been found on the stoop of his own home, punished by Voldemort for failing to complete his task. Harry thought he could remember having a copy of the article on the wall of his flat in New York. Well, had before Draco had thrown all of his war articles away.
In Jerrod's file, there was some information about his involvement in the Battle of the Department of Mysteries; Harry remembered the man had attempted to grab onto him. Hermione had stunned him, and they'd taken him to Azkaban. He had not personally seen him afterward, so he wasn't fresh in his mind.
There were comments in the folder he'd been one of the escapees from Azkaban during the second war. His last known whereabouts had been his home, but no one had seen or heard from him since the death of his son.
Would this one even be eligible for recovery?
'Might as well start somewhere,' Harry thought, getting out a parchment and quill.
Thanks for reading !
Chapter Twenty Two