Two and a Half Men # 4: My Kid
Title: My Kid
Word Count: 1,800
Rating: PG 13
Warning: Slight flangst, implied violence
Summary: An incident in Diagon Alley sparks Harry's protective instincts.
Author's notes: Part 4 of my Two and a Half Men arc. I'm just churning these out now. This one...went a bit in flangsty territory. My bad. On the bright side, Protective!Harry ^_^
Harry grinned fondly at the little blond head in his lap. “Seriously, what is it with you always eating my food?”
Scorpius looked up and obliged him with a blink before ignoring him completely and diving in to his fries again. His own plate had been abandoned the second Harry’s meal had shown up and apparently, this was a thing now. Across the table, Hermione and Ron watched the scene with mild amusement.
“I suppose we can just bypass all the so are you and Malfoy serious questions,” Hermione smiled. Harry grinned in reply, forking up a chip that had somehow escaped Scorpius’ vigilant eye.
“We are,” he affirmed anyway. It was about time his friends learnt the full extent of his relationship with Draco and Harry had no qualms with letting them know just how committed he was to his boyfriend. Today had seemed the perfect day for this conversation. Draco had been called down to St. Mungos’ research facility to consult on some new and improved Spattergroit Cure. He usually worked from home but Mungos had insisted on his presence today and Harry had been more than happy to take a day off to babysit.
So here he was, in a small café in Diagon Alley introducing Scorpius to his best friends over lunch. It had gone exceptionally well. Hermione’s maternal instincts had taken over in about two seconds and she had spent the remainder of lunch cooing over the perplexed toddler. Ron had been a tad more resistant, but eventually even he had progressed from ‘but he’s so…blond’ to ‘oh alright, so he’s a cute little tyke.’
Not bad for twenty minutes, Harry thought smugly. But then again, no one could resist his little angel for too long. Having efficiently demolished Harry’s food, Scorpius was now leaning forward in his lap- his chubby fingers grappling eagerly for Ron’s plate. The ginger sighed and pushed it over obligingly. “Where is he putting it all?” he wondered aloud. Harry chuckled. Ron willingly sharing his food was as good as a guaranteed stamp of approval. Yes, this was working out just fine. He leaned back in his chair and relaxed- chatting with his friends, one arm securely wrapped around his little blond.
It was just pure chance that he heard the muttering.
“…recognize a Malfoy from a mile away.”
Harry stiffened, turning around as discreetly as he could. He recognized the indolent figure of Zacharias Smith sprawled at the table behind him. Smith ran a hand through his sandy brown hair and smirked, carrying out his conversation with a harried waitress.
Harry turned back to his own table, straining to listen over Hermione’s conversation.
“So naturally, I told the Minister…”
“Hermione,” Harry whispered, shushing her urgently.
“What…”
“Hush a minute. Just listen.”
She subsided at once and Harry listened carefully as Smith’s tone carried over clearly now.
“Look, all I’m saying is that when I visit your establishment, I expect certain standards. If I wanted to eat in the company of Death Eaters and their spawn, I’d go to Knockturn Alley, wouldn’t I?”
Harry’s fists clenched and his protective hold on Scorpius tightened.
“Sir, you are talking about a child,” the waitress replied, her tone tight and completely devoid of patience. She cast a worried glance over at their table, catching Harry’s eye for a second.
Smith shrugged, smarmy smirk still firmly in place. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, my dear. If you expect me to believe that anything directly descending from Lucius and Draco Malfoy isn’t rotten to the core, I’d urge you to read up a bit more on recent events. You know, that war we just had?”
Harry was grinding his teeth so loudly, it was a miracle he could still hear the conversation. “Sir, I don’t know what you’re asking me to do here,” the girl gritted. “If you’re suggesting that I go up there and evict a baby from our premises…”
“I’m not asking for that at all,” Smith drawled. “I’m simply saying that I’ve been forced to spend my afternoon in…unsavoury company. A future criminal, most likely. It’s only fair that you don’t charge me for my meal. That’s reasonable, don’t you think?”
The girl stomped off, muttering something about calling her manager and Harry turned back to his friends. His fists were clenched and he was sure his nails were drawing blood. Hermione and Ron sat stock still, clearly shocked into silence. In his lap, Scorpius blithely continued pawing through his fries, oblivious to recent happenings. Harry’s hands wrapped around him protectively, wanting nothing more than to keep him safe from this god awful world…
“What a monster,” Hermione hissed. “How dare he say such…” She trailed off and reached over, stroking the child’s cheek. Her hands were trembling and her brown eyes sparked with righteous fury.
“There’s one in every crowd,” Ron spat, looking thoroughly disgusted. Harry wasn’t listening. He was too busy going over ways to make Smith pay for daring to…
“Harry, are you alright?” Hermione asked carefully.
“Fine,” Harry gritted. He wasn’t fine. He wasn’t fine at all.
Hermione nodded uneasily. “Let’s just go. I don’t want to spend another second here.”
Harry took a deep breath, coming to a decision. “Actually,” he replied in a deceptively calm tone. “Why don’t you go ahead and take Scorpius to Fortescue’s for some ice cream? I’ll catch up in a minute.”
Hermione’s eyes widened in alarm. “Harry, don’t…”
“Let him go, Mione.” Surprisingly, this was from Ron. He was regarding the back of Smith’s head with a look of pure loathing. “If someone talked like that about my kid, I’d go after him too.”
Something surged inside Harry. He had thought of Scorpius as his kid for a long time now, but to hear it from Ron…it just made the whole thing real. Scorpius was his and no one was going to talk about him that way. Not while Harry was around.
Schooling his expression, he cupped the child’s cheek, gently tilting his face up. “Hey baby,” he murmured softly. “What say we go get some ice cream?”
Innocent, grey eyes blinked back at him, nearly breaking his heart. He would do anything to protect this child. “Kay,” Scorpius agreed obligingly.
Harry smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Go on then. Ron and Mione will take you. Harry will catch up, okay?”
“Come on, sweetie,” Hermione broke in, sensing a cue. She reached over to help Scorpius off Harry’s lap. “Let’s go get you some ice cream.”
“Kay, lady.”
Tiny fingers wrapped around Hermione’s hand and she squeezed gently, her eyes meeting Harry’s for a brief second. “Be careful,” she warned.
“Come on, Mini Malfoy,” Ron cut in cheerfully. “You’re gonna love the Three Scoop Special.”
“No.”
Ron frowned, somewhat perplexed at the notion of a child refusing ice cream. “No?”
“Four,” Scorpius clarified firmly, holding up four small fingers for emphasis.
Ron chuckled. “I could get used to this kid,” he announced, ushering Hermione and Scorpius out of the café. He turned around and winked at Harry. “Give him hell,” he said. And then they were gone.
Harry waited a good ten minutes before signalling the waitress. She was a young girl, possibly fresh out of Hogwarts. She glanced at him warily and Harry gave her a reassuring smile. “This should cover the bill,” he said, tossing some galleons on the table.
She shook her head. “It’s on the house, Mr Potter,” she replied, sending a dirty look in Smith’s general direction. “It’s the least we can do to… apologise for…”
“That’s very kind,” Harry cut in. “Give yourself a nice tip anyway. And speaking of apologies, I’d like to offer one in advance.”
She raised an eyebrow. “For…”
Harry’s answering smile could have frozen a basilisk. “For what I’m about to do to your establishment,” he replied.
The girl’s eyes widened for a second, and then she offered a sly grin of her own. “We’ll send you a bill for damages, sir.”
Definitely Slytherin, Harry thought with mild amusement. “I look forward to it,” he smirked, walking away from her. He approached Smith’s table with quick strides, pulling a chair back and sitting across from him. The sight of the bastard’s wide eyes and rapidly paling countenance sent a vicious thrill through Harry. “Afternoon, Smith,” he intoned coldly.
“P-potter? What are you...”
“I just want a quick word. Nothing to worry about.” Smith gulped and scrabbled back in his chair, looking decidedly worried. Harry smirked and cracked his knuckles. “Now,” he drawled. “What was it you were saying about my kid?”
****
When Draco returned home later that day, it was to the sight of Harry trying to wipe a squirming Scorpius clean with a napkin.
“Hold still, Blondie,” he admonished. “This is what you get for swiping Ron’s ice cream.”
Draco chuckled as he sauntered in. “That’s my boy.”
Harry grinned and pulled him in for a kiss. “Missed you,” he grinned, brushing his lips against Draco’s. “How was work?”
“Boring,” Draco sighed, leaning into him. “Did you two have a nice day?”
Harry smiled back. “Just lunch in the Alley. Nothing exciting.”
“Really?” Draco drawled, his eyes flicking down to Harry’s hand. “And…when exactly during this uneventful day did you find the time to bruise your knuckles?” He didn’t miss the way Harry flushed slightly and his gaze flickered.
“I got caught in a doorway,” he hedged.
“Clumsy,” Draco replied, utterly unconvinced. He raised an eyebrow at his son. “Scorpius, would you like to verify that?”
“Bam!” Scorpius replied, demonstrating a rather impressive left hook. Harry cringed. In hindsight, he probably should have been less enthusiastic in his retelling of the Smith Incident.
“Mm,” Draco replied noncommittally. “Sounds like you showed that door who’s boss, Harry.”
Harry mumbled and tugged awkwardly at his collar, looking with avid interest at the toaster. Draco chuckled and sidled over to him, hooking his arms around Harry’s shoulders. “Did you forget I was at St. Mungos all day?” he asked with a mischievous grin. “Imagine my surprise when Zacharias Smith hobbled into the Critical Injuries Ward looking like death and mumbling about Potter finally going round the twist.”
Harry winced. He had forgotten. “Draco, he…”
“Oh hush,” Draco whispered, pulling him in for another kiss. His lips slipped over Harry’s and his hands wound into his messy hair. Harry sighed and relaxed, letting Draco sooth the tension from his frame. He deepened the kiss by instinct, tracing his hands down Draco’s lean, toned body and…
“Bam!” Scorpius piped up again, announcing his presence rather effectively.
Draco groaned in frustration, backing away reluctantly. “Smith had it coming, did he?” he asked.
Harry nodded stiffly. “Definitely,” he announced, reaching for Scorpius almost instinctively. The child went willingly, hooking his arms around Harry’s neck and nuzzling into his shoulder with a contented chuff. Harry bundled him in his arms, gently kissing his forehead.
Draco observed the two of them silently, before yielding with a slow nod. “I’ll take your word for it,” he said softly. His apprehensions drifted away as he watched Harry handle his son. No, he didn’t have to worry. Harry would take care of Scorpius.
And Harry would take care of him too.
After all, they were a family.
Next: Quidditch Quarrels
Word Count: 1,800
Rating: PG 13
Warning: Slight flangst, implied violence
Summary: An incident in Diagon Alley sparks Harry's protective instincts.
Author's notes: Part 4 of my Two and a Half Men arc. I'm just churning these out now. This one...went a bit in flangsty territory. My bad. On the bright side, Protective!Harry ^_^
Harry grinned fondly at the little blond head in his lap. “Seriously, what is it with you always eating my food?”
Scorpius looked up and obliged him with a blink before ignoring him completely and diving in to his fries again. His own plate had been abandoned the second Harry’s meal had shown up and apparently, this was a thing now. Across the table, Hermione and Ron watched the scene with mild amusement.
“I suppose we can just bypass all the so are you and Malfoy serious questions,” Hermione smiled. Harry grinned in reply, forking up a chip that had somehow escaped Scorpius’ vigilant eye.
“We are,” he affirmed anyway. It was about time his friends learnt the full extent of his relationship with Draco and Harry had no qualms with letting them know just how committed he was to his boyfriend. Today had seemed the perfect day for this conversation. Draco had been called down to St. Mungos’ research facility to consult on some new and improved Spattergroit Cure. He usually worked from home but Mungos had insisted on his presence today and Harry had been more than happy to take a day off to babysit.
So here he was, in a small café in Diagon Alley introducing Scorpius to his best friends over lunch. It had gone exceptionally well. Hermione’s maternal instincts had taken over in about two seconds and she had spent the remainder of lunch cooing over the perplexed toddler. Ron had been a tad more resistant, but eventually even he had progressed from ‘but he’s so…blond’ to ‘oh alright, so he’s a cute little tyke.’
Not bad for twenty minutes, Harry thought smugly. But then again, no one could resist his little angel for too long. Having efficiently demolished Harry’s food, Scorpius was now leaning forward in his lap- his chubby fingers grappling eagerly for Ron’s plate. The ginger sighed and pushed it over obligingly. “Where is he putting it all?” he wondered aloud. Harry chuckled. Ron willingly sharing his food was as good as a guaranteed stamp of approval. Yes, this was working out just fine. He leaned back in his chair and relaxed- chatting with his friends, one arm securely wrapped around his little blond.
It was just pure chance that he heard the muttering.
“…recognize a Malfoy from a mile away.”
Harry stiffened, turning around as discreetly as he could. He recognized the indolent figure of Zacharias Smith sprawled at the table behind him. Smith ran a hand through his sandy brown hair and smirked, carrying out his conversation with a harried waitress.
Harry turned back to his own table, straining to listen over Hermione’s conversation.
“So naturally, I told the Minister…”
“Hermione,” Harry whispered, shushing her urgently.
“What…”
“Hush a minute. Just listen.”
She subsided at once and Harry listened carefully as Smith’s tone carried over clearly now.
“Look, all I’m saying is that when I visit your establishment, I expect certain standards. If I wanted to eat in the company of Death Eaters and their spawn, I’d go to Knockturn Alley, wouldn’t I?”
Harry’s fists clenched and his protective hold on Scorpius tightened.
“Sir, you are talking about a child,” the waitress replied, her tone tight and completely devoid of patience. She cast a worried glance over at their table, catching Harry’s eye for a second.
Smith shrugged, smarmy smirk still firmly in place. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, my dear. If you expect me to believe that anything directly descending from Lucius and Draco Malfoy isn’t rotten to the core, I’d urge you to read up a bit more on recent events. You know, that war we just had?”
Harry was grinding his teeth so loudly, it was a miracle he could still hear the conversation. “Sir, I don’t know what you’re asking me to do here,” the girl gritted. “If you’re suggesting that I go up there and evict a baby from our premises…”
“I’m not asking for that at all,” Smith drawled. “I’m simply saying that I’ve been forced to spend my afternoon in…unsavoury company. A future criminal, most likely. It’s only fair that you don’t charge me for my meal. That’s reasonable, don’t you think?”
The girl stomped off, muttering something about calling her manager and Harry turned back to his friends. His fists were clenched and he was sure his nails were drawing blood. Hermione and Ron sat stock still, clearly shocked into silence. In his lap, Scorpius blithely continued pawing through his fries, oblivious to recent happenings. Harry’s hands wrapped around him protectively, wanting nothing more than to keep him safe from this god awful world…
“What a monster,” Hermione hissed. “How dare he say such…” She trailed off and reached over, stroking the child’s cheek. Her hands were trembling and her brown eyes sparked with righteous fury.
“There’s one in every crowd,” Ron spat, looking thoroughly disgusted. Harry wasn’t listening. He was too busy going over ways to make Smith pay for daring to…
“Harry, are you alright?” Hermione asked carefully.
“Fine,” Harry gritted. He wasn’t fine. He wasn’t fine at all.
Hermione nodded uneasily. “Let’s just go. I don’t want to spend another second here.”
Harry took a deep breath, coming to a decision. “Actually,” he replied in a deceptively calm tone. “Why don’t you go ahead and take Scorpius to Fortescue’s for some ice cream? I’ll catch up in a minute.”
Hermione’s eyes widened in alarm. “Harry, don’t…”
“Let him go, Mione.” Surprisingly, this was from Ron. He was regarding the back of Smith’s head with a look of pure loathing. “If someone talked like that about my kid, I’d go after him too.”
Something surged inside Harry. He had thought of Scorpius as his kid for a long time now, but to hear it from Ron…it just made the whole thing real. Scorpius was his and no one was going to talk about him that way. Not while Harry was around.
Schooling his expression, he cupped the child’s cheek, gently tilting his face up. “Hey baby,” he murmured softly. “What say we go get some ice cream?”
Innocent, grey eyes blinked back at him, nearly breaking his heart. He would do anything to protect this child. “Kay,” Scorpius agreed obligingly.
Harry smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Go on then. Ron and Mione will take you. Harry will catch up, okay?”
“Come on, sweetie,” Hermione broke in, sensing a cue. She reached over to help Scorpius off Harry’s lap. “Let’s go get you some ice cream.”
“Kay, lady.”
Tiny fingers wrapped around Hermione’s hand and she squeezed gently, her eyes meeting Harry’s for a brief second. “Be careful,” she warned.
“Come on, Mini Malfoy,” Ron cut in cheerfully. “You’re gonna love the Three Scoop Special.”
“No.”
Ron frowned, somewhat perplexed at the notion of a child refusing ice cream. “No?”
“Four,” Scorpius clarified firmly, holding up four small fingers for emphasis.
Ron chuckled. “I could get used to this kid,” he announced, ushering Hermione and Scorpius out of the café. He turned around and winked at Harry. “Give him hell,” he said. And then they were gone.
Harry waited a good ten minutes before signalling the waitress. She was a young girl, possibly fresh out of Hogwarts. She glanced at him warily and Harry gave her a reassuring smile. “This should cover the bill,” he said, tossing some galleons on the table.
She shook her head. “It’s on the house, Mr Potter,” she replied, sending a dirty look in Smith’s general direction. “It’s the least we can do to… apologise for…”
“That’s very kind,” Harry cut in. “Give yourself a nice tip anyway. And speaking of apologies, I’d like to offer one in advance.”
She raised an eyebrow. “For…”
Harry’s answering smile could have frozen a basilisk. “For what I’m about to do to your establishment,” he replied.
The girl’s eyes widened for a second, and then she offered a sly grin of her own. “We’ll send you a bill for damages, sir.”
Definitely Slytherin, Harry thought with mild amusement. “I look forward to it,” he smirked, walking away from her. He approached Smith’s table with quick strides, pulling a chair back and sitting across from him. The sight of the bastard’s wide eyes and rapidly paling countenance sent a vicious thrill through Harry. “Afternoon, Smith,” he intoned coldly.
“P-potter? What are you...”
“I just want a quick word. Nothing to worry about.” Smith gulped and scrabbled back in his chair, looking decidedly worried. Harry smirked and cracked his knuckles. “Now,” he drawled. “What was it you were saying about my kid?”
****
When Draco returned home later that day, it was to the sight of Harry trying to wipe a squirming Scorpius clean with a napkin.
“Hold still, Blondie,” he admonished. “This is what you get for swiping Ron’s ice cream.”
Draco chuckled as he sauntered in. “That’s my boy.”
Harry grinned and pulled him in for a kiss. “Missed you,” he grinned, brushing his lips against Draco’s. “How was work?”
“Boring,” Draco sighed, leaning into him. “Did you two have a nice day?”
Harry smiled back. “Just lunch in the Alley. Nothing exciting.”
“Really?” Draco drawled, his eyes flicking down to Harry’s hand. “And…when exactly during this uneventful day did you find the time to bruise your knuckles?” He didn’t miss the way Harry flushed slightly and his gaze flickered.
“I got caught in a doorway,” he hedged.
“Clumsy,” Draco replied, utterly unconvinced. He raised an eyebrow at his son. “Scorpius, would you like to verify that?”
“Bam!” Scorpius replied, demonstrating a rather impressive left hook. Harry cringed. In hindsight, he probably should have been less enthusiastic in his retelling of the Smith Incident.
“Mm,” Draco replied noncommittally. “Sounds like you showed that door who’s boss, Harry.”
Harry mumbled and tugged awkwardly at his collar, looking with avid interest at the toaster. Draco chuckled and sidled over to him, hooking his arms around Harry’s shoulders. “Did you forget I was at St. Mungos all day?” he asked with a mischievous grin. “Imagine my surprise when Zacharias Smith hobbled into the Critical Injuries Ward looking like death and mumbling about Potter finally going round the twist.”
Harry winced. He had forgotten. “Draco, he…”
“Oh hush,” Draco whispered, pulling him in for another kiss. His lips slipped over Harry’s and his hands wound into his messy hair. Harry sighed and relaxed, letting Draco sooth the tension from his frame. He deepened the kiss by instinct, tracing his hands down Draco’s lean, toned body and…
“Bam!” Scorpius piped up again, announcing his presence rather effectively.
Draco groaned in frustration, backing away reluctantly. “Smith had it coming, did he?” he asked.
Harry nodded stiffly. “Definitely,” he announced, reaching for Scorpius almost instinctively. The child went willingly, hooking his arms around Harry’s neck and nuzzling into his shoulder with a contented chuff. Harry bundled him in his arms, gently kissing his forehead.
Draco observed the two of them silently, before yielding with a slow nod. “I’ll take your word for it,” he said softly. His apprehensions drifted away as he watched Harry handle his son. No, he didn’t have to worry. Harry would take care of Scorpius.
And Harry would take care of him too.
After all, they were a family.
Next: Quidditch Quarrels