Chapter Twenty-Two of 'Starfall'- Questions Asked and Answered

[lomonaaeren]

Chapter Twenty-One.

Title: Starfall (22/?)
Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling and associates own these characters. I am writing this story for fun and not profit.
Pairings: Harry/Draco, Harry/Ginny, past Draco/Astoria, Ron/Hermione
Rating: R
Warnings: Angst, manipulation
Summary: When the truth about a seemingly minor Dark hex Harry has suffered leads to the dissolution of his marriage with Ginny, Harry spins into a downward spiral. His private consolation is creating a fantasy life for himself in his journal as Ethan Starfall, a normal wizard with a big family. When he receives a random owl Draco Malfoy has cast into the void as a plea for help with his son Scorpius, Harry replies-as Ethan. There’s no reason, he thinks, for an epistolary friendship with Draco to go further. But Draco might have different ideas about that.
Author’s Note: This is likely to be a long story, updated fairly regularly. It is, however, very angsty.

Chapter One.

Thank you again for all the reviews!

Chapter Twenty-Two-Questions Asked and Answered

Harry shivered and opened his eyes. His first thought was that his Warming Charms had faded, and his next that that wasn’t supposed to happen. He sat up and shook his head, leaning in to build up his fire again.

A soft silvery glow filtered from next to the fire, and he turned his head and saw Andromeda’s Patronus sitting there, a squat cat with tufted ears that reminded Harry a little of both McGonagall’s Animagus form and Kingsley’s lynx Patronus. Andromeda said that it looked like a Kneazle she used to have.

“Harry, I received your message.” The cat scuffed one paw in the dirt. “Don’t stay here. Come home. Contact me.”

The Patronus faded a moment later, exhausted by even the effort of communicating that much of a simple message. Harry shut his eyes and sat there, his hands on the sticks of the fire, until another shiver shook him and he arranged the kindling and cast an Incendio. And then he sat there in the warmth of that fire, forlorn and aching with a desire for peace.

But what that peace would consist of-no more arguments, never seeing Andromeda again, staying here-he didn’t know.

In the end, he didn’t reply to Andromeda’s Patronus message, not that night. She had waited until the middle of the night to send one to him, Harry reasoned, rolling over and casting the charm that would fill his blanket with warmth and hopefully last longer than the mere ones that had touched the air with heat would. She could wait until morning.

*

“Teddy said something about his Uncle Harry,” Scorpius announced that morning, bouncing his spoon off the table and watching Draco out of the corner of his eye.

Draco knew that Scorpius was waiting for him to say something about the spoon. And Draco did want to. It was getting the table coated with porridge. He knew from experiments on his own as a child that porridge dried into a sticky, hard mess with no one to clean it up, and he wanted to call for a house-elf and have it done now.

But if the house-elves had ever let a stain go to become permanent on the table, Draco hadn’t found it yet. Which meant the house-elves would take care of it when he and Scorpius weren’t looking, the way they did most chores in the house. Draco forced himself to smile and look more closely at Scorpius instead. “Did he? Well, yes, he knows Harry Potter. Maybe someday you’ll meet him too.”

He had thought this was Scorpius’s question, but Scorpius shook his head. “I want an uncle.”

“You have an uncle,” said Draco, which was true if they were talking about the same way Teddy had an uncle. “You have Uncle Blaise. And Uncle Theo, if he ever comes back from overseas.” Theodore had taken Draco’s abrupt disappearance better than he’d expected, although he’d warned Draco that he expected another visit sooner rather than later.

“But I want another one.” Scorpius stared at Draco, and his lip trembled a little. “I want one who takes me places and gives me things.”

“But your Uncle Blaise does that,” said Draco. He thought of the trip to Muggle London that had started this problem with Scorpius not wanting to be a Malfoy in the first place. “Like that trip a few weeks ago with him?”

Scorpius paused as if thinking back all that time was an effort beyond him. Maybe it was, although Draco didn’t think so. “But I want another uncle,” he finally settled on, and with that tone that meant Draco wasn’t going to budge him from the desire, unreasonable or not, until either another one took its place or this one was fulfilled.

“Very well,” said Draco, and smiled a little as he did what he had planned on and what he really should have seen coming before this. “Then we can go over to visit Teddy tomorrow, and maybe his Uncle Harry will be there.”

“He wants to meet me?” Scorpius looked uncertain again, and scared, and very young. But he was. Draco didn’t think there was anything wrong with allowing his child to be a child.

Well, you don’t think there’s anything wrong with it now, said the tiny, treacherous voice in his head that Draco didn’t often hear, hadn’t heard for years when he was making the decisions that he had thought were right. You thought it was wrong until Ethan Starfall advised you otherwise.

Draco leaned his chin in his palm for a second and told Scorpius, “Yes, he likes children. I think he’d like to meet you.” Meanwhile, his mind buzzed along an entirely different track, one that was becoming all too familiar. The track that led to Ethan Starfall, who was Harry Potter, who was…

Still connected to him. Maybe neither of them wanted to be connected, maybe it was a connection that would only do them harm in the end, but that was the way it was, and Draco had to accept it.

“Then I’ll see him,” said Scorpius, and as if that was the only promise he had needed, he returned to his food.

Draco eyed him in brief wonder. He had a much better relationship with his son now, and it seemed that he had only needed to do a few little things differently.

That’s another thing I owe to Potter. Another reason that I need to talk to him, until I either don’t owe him anymore or I can figure out what I need to pay him.

If there turned out to be a deeper connection than that, perhaps based on the affection Draco was sure Scorpius could arouse in anyone, Draco would…not object.

*

Harry sighed and turned around, letting the hot water cascade over him. It felt as though it had been weeks since he’d had a shower, even though it was only a few days. He had led Auror teams that were in the field longer than that.

I don’t care.

He didn’t. He had returned to his home from Godric’s Hollow, and he didn’t plan on going back right away. But he didn’t have to return to work, either, and so far neither of his friends had tried to contact him. They probably understood, which Andromeda hadn’t, that he needed more time to recover before he talked to anyone.

When he stepped out of the shower, though, there were three owls waiting, and one of them was from Andromeda and one was from Hermione. Harry wrapped the towel around his waist and turned to the black owl waiting with the envelope that held the seal of the Ministry, ignoring the loud, annoyed hoots of protest from the other two.

The letter had Kingsley’s signature at the bottom. Harry verified that the minute he opened it up. Then he told himself to stop being a coward, and read the letter itself.

Dear Harry,

Andromeda firecalled me looking for you, and said that you weren’t to be found in your usual haunts. I think that you ought to consider getting some time and talk from a Mind-Healer when you come back to your job. Keep in mind that there are a number of them attached to the Aurors who would be welcoming of any communication you wished to make.

Harry hissed. Kingsley had no idea what Harry wanted to talk about, and Harry didn’t want to tell Mind-Healers about Ethan for the same reason that he didn’t want to tell his friends about Ethan. He didn’t want to see the deep pity in their eyes. The first thing Hermione would tell him was that it was a poor coping mechanism, and Harry would either have to agree or look stupid.

When he picked up Andromeda’s message, it was a steely invitation over to her house, and a question about why he hadn’t responded right away to her Patronus, even when he’d sent one the next day. It closed with a hint about Teddy missing him.

Hermione had decided to be less formal and less manipulative, and so blunt that Harry winced reading her letter.

Obviously something is going on. Ron told me he thought there might be a problem when you were injured so many times so close together after Ginny’s announcement that she was pregnant, but I didn’t think much of it. Now I do. Come over here so we can talk to you and figure out what’s going on.

Harry put the letter down and stared at the owl, at all of the owls, waiting for a response. Then he shook his head. He didn’t want to respond. He didn’t want to talk to anyone, any more than he had wanted to talk when Malfoy showed up in the graveyard. He wouldn’t have talked then if Malfoy’s taunts hadn’t stung him into it.

“No reply,” he told the owls, all of whom hooted disapprovingly on different notes. Harry ignored that, shooed them out of his house, and turned back to consider the problem of what to do that day, now that he was on his own and he wasn’t going to talk to anybody who wanted to talk to him.

He wanted to go back and finish rebuilding his parents’ house in Godric’s Hollow. But that was a project that would take him more than one day, and anyway, he wanted to save it for a time when he was as deep down in sorrow as he’d been when he first went there.

What do I do with myself now that I have no job and no obligations?

He ended up sitting in front of the fire in his drawing room, staring into the flames and trying to make his mind relax utterly. He couldn’t remember the last time that had really been the case.

There had always been some worry buzzing along beside him, polluting his thoughts in their softest hours, making him think about a case or Ginny or the divorce or his lack of children, even when he had Ethan. Now that he didn’t have Ethan, Harry had to wonder what kind of barrier he would manage to raise against those thoughts, the angry ones that made him want to vomit with anxiety sometimes.

He would have to find something.

But what?

For long, long hours, or maybe minutes of contemplation that felt like hours, he had no answer. He watched the rise and fall of the flames, despite knowing that it had no more answer than he did. He waited with one hand clenched under his chin and another next to his ear, hoping that the snapping and sighing of the fire would wake some idea in him.

At last, he was able to answer himself. No matter what the Healers said, Harry knew he would only get some satisfaction from raising a child. He couldn’t have his own, adopting in the Muggle world would be impossible with the kinds of checks that they ran on you and the limited availability of children, and adopting a wizard child would take a long time, with the claims of blood family always considered the most important. There had been plans to get together an orphanage after the war, but “war orphans” who didn’t have parents turned out to have aunts, uncles, cousins, half-siblings, grandparents, all eager to take them.

Harry thought he needed the satisfaction of knowing he could raise multiple children who needed him right now.

And that meant Teddy. That meant Rose. That meant Hugo. Harry even briefly considered asking about helping Ginny with her child, and then his mind sheered sharply to the side. No, there were some things he couldn’t ask for, no matter what, and some things he couldn’t put Ginny through, either.

Could it include Scorpius?

Harry closed his eyes. He thought that was what Malfoy had been offering, in the graveyard. And while the only things he knew about Scorpius came from Malfoy’s letters and things he’d said-and that was probably a biased portrait-the main thing Harry needed to know about him was that he was five years old, and lonely. Someone who Harry might be able to help, a child who might need him.

Even if that means associating with his bastard of a father?

Harry grimaced. If Scorpius really needed him, then yes, he’d do it, the same way he would have made an effort to get along with Andromeda if he didn’t like her so that Teddy could have them both.

But at the moment, he really had no idea if Scorpius was like that. Maybe he and Malfoy were doing better right now and there was no need for a second father figure. Harry would need to know the truth before he embarked on meeting Scorpius.

So he stood up, found parchment and ink and quill, and set about what he once would have thought he never would do again: writing a letter to Draco Malfoy.

*

Draco smoothed down his robes, charcoal-grey ones that he had chosen because they were probably the nicest ones he owned, and told himself not to jitter with excitement. Just because Potter had sent him a letter and Draco had sent him one back saying that Potter should meet them over at Andromeda’s house and judge what Scorpius was like for himself…

“Daddy, can we go now?”

They probably could, at that. Draco had got much too much into smoothing his robes, and he smiled apologetically at Scorpius and reached for the Floo powder. Then he paused. Scorpius glanced up at him, vibrating on his toes as he leaned forwards. He looked as if he’d like to spring through the fireplace and drag his cousin out to him.

“You said that you wanted an uncle like Teddy,” said Draco, choosing his words carefully. One thing he no longer wanted to do was raise his son’s hopes when he didn’t know if he could actually give him what he promised.

“Yes?” Scorpius asked, as if he didn’t remember the conversation.

He’s five. He may not. Draco took a deep breath and a swallow, and said, “Well, what if I told you that Harry Potter is going to be visiting your aunt and cousin today?”

Scorpius blinked at him and seemed to give it deep thought. Then he said, “But he’s there to visit Teddy. Not me.”

“He could be there to visit you, too,” said Draco. “If you want. If you need him.” That, he suspected, was what it would come down to for Potter, although his letter had mostly talked about how he didn’t know Scorpius that well and couldn’t really be there for him until he did. But Draco knew that Potter had a weakness for children.

And if he wanted to help Draco raise Scorpius, not much was going to stop him. Draco was glad that he had told Potter it would be all right. He didn’t much like his chances if he had wanted to stand in the way.

“I don’t know,” said Scorpius, and hooked a finger into his mouth. Draco found that appalling, a dirty and slimy habit, but he let Scorpius be for the moment. “I’ll think about it.”

He sounded enough like Draco then that Draco managed a smile, for all his anxiety. “You do that,” he said, and this time he did throw the Floo powder in and call out Andromeda’s address.

*

It hit hard, that first moment of watching Scorpius and Teddy play together.

Harry was standing quietly in the corner, shaking his head when Andromeda invited him to sit down, which she did about every two minutes. Teddy had been talking to him and showing off the newest trick he could do with a Potions kit Hermione had got him for his birthday, but when Scorpius appeared, his hair changed to blond and he ran over, laughing, to be with him.

That was all right with Harry. He wasn’t jealous, not anymore. He stood there and listened and observed, while Malfoy and Andromeda made small talk on the sofa. The talk sounded distinctly stilted to Harry, but maybe this was how the Black family got to know each other.

I have to remember that. No matter what I am to Teddy or Scorpius or the both of them, I can’t be blood family.

Maybe that wouldn’t matter, if he could establish a relationship with both of them that was cordial enough. But he would have to keep in mind that it mattered to the people who would actually raise them.

Scorpius stopped playing abruptly and turned around to stare at him. Teddy’s hair changed to brown, and Harry scowled a little. He knew that sign. Teddy had done something that he felt guilty about. Maybe later in life he would be able to control his tendency to change his hair to match his mood, but right now he couldn’t. And Harry sometimes thought that was the only advantage he or Andromeda had in keeping up with Teddy’s plots.

“Mr. Potter?” Scorpius asked, and hooked a finger into the corner of his mouth. Harry tried not to stare. Teddy was too old for that, Hugo and Rose didn’t do it, and it was among the cutest things he had ever seen.

Eventually, Harry realized that he should probably speak in response to Scorpius’s question, and he cleared his throat and nodded. “Yes?”

“Do you like me?” Scorpius looked around as though he thought someone was going to punish him for the question, but while Malfoy was watching his son intently from the couch, he hardly seemed as if he was about to do that.

Harry’s breath caught in his throat, and he spoke without thinking. “Of course I do. You’re a nice kid.”

Scorpius’s eyes were big and watery, and he kept blinking at them and rubbing them as if he was going to cry. Harry hoped not. He didn’t really know the best way to deal with a crying Scorpius. Other kids he could handle. But each little kid was sort of unique.

“Then will you be my Uncle Harry the way you are Teddy’s?” Scorpius flashed Teddy a look that Harry could interpret well despite not knowing much about Scorpius. He was jealous.

Maybe it was just that he wanted Harry Potter for an uncle. Maybe Teddy had been bragging about Harry and the way he spoiled Teddy too much. Maybe it was because Malfoy didn’t have any siblings and Scorpius was lonely.

But Harry was about as capable of refusing a request like that as he was of marrying Ginny and adopting her children as his own.

“If you want me to,” Harry said, crouching down without thinking about it, and extending a hand for Scorpius to take, “then of course I will.”

Scorpius beamed as he reached out and took his hand. Harry choked at the warmth of it, a little sticky where Scorpius had had his fingers in his mouth. At the moment, Harry couldn’t look around and see if Andromeda and Malfoy had proud expressions on their faces, or annoyed ones, or what.

What mattered was that Scorpius needed him. And for a kid that needed him, Harry was willing to put with a lot of pure-blood Slytherin wankery.

*

I’m glad that I was here to see this.

Draco could feel Andromeda’s stare alternating between himself and Potter, as if she was trying to guess which one of them had set this up. But Draco thought one of the best things about it was that no one had set it up. Scorpius had reached out, and Potter had fallen into his hand like a plum. The only thing Draco had needed to do was bring them together.

Draco did have to shake his head when he saw the naked longing shining in Potter’s eyes. You’d think the truth about his infertility would have leaked out before now. All you have to do is see him next to a child and you can see how much he wants one.

Andromeda touched his elbow. Draco looked at her, and she leaned towards him and spoke in a low voice that Draco was sure neither the children nor Potter could hear. “Did you tell him that he could do this?”

Draco didn’t know if she was talking about Scorpius or Potter. Either way, the answer was the same. “Yes.”

“Even with that tension between you that you won’t tell me about?” Andromeda’s gaze was as remote and wary as a hawk’s.

“I don’t think that’s as important as you’re making it out to be,” said Draco passively, head turned to the side so he could avoid her glare. Her fingers rapped on the couch for a moment, once, twice, and she opened her mouth to say something, but Teddy spoke before she could.

“You’ll still be my uncle, too, right?” Teddy asked, pressing close to Potter and looking up at him with an expression that made Draco raise his eyebrows. He wondered if Teddy felt abandoned by his parents since they’d died not long after he was born.

“Of course I will.” Potter reached over and ruffled Teddy’s hair. Draco opened his mouth, wondering if he should tell Potter that Scorpius didn’t much like that particular gesture, but Potter shot him a keen glance and abruptly pulled him into the conversation. “But you could probably also have an uncle in your cousin, too.”

“Cousin Draco?” Teddy turned in place on his hands and knees and stared at him. “But you’re my cousin, not my uncle, right?”

“I am,” said Draco. “Your first cousin once removed.” He thought it was important to know the precise degree of relationship, and Teddy’s education was behind Scorpius’s in that respect. “But that doesn’t mean that I can’t be your uncle as well, if you’re talking about an uncle as a man who takes care of you and respects you.”

Potter looked at him for a moment with his eyebrows rising, but turned away before Draco could catch his gaze. “That’s right,” he told Scorpius. “I can be your uncle even though I’m not...related to you.”

Draco heard the catch in Potter’s voice. He knew the reason, and moved ruthlessly to suppress the way that Potter would misinterpret things if left to himself. “You’re related by choice,” he told Potter. “That’s a way that matters.”

Potter met and held his eyes this time. Draco could almost feel the silent, stubborn bubbling between them, the motion of ideas and thoughts that Potter didn’t want to acknowledge and might never come to acknowledge if Draco didn’t force him to.

“By choice is a good thing,” said Teddy, and turned to Scorpius. “It’s my choice right now that we have cake.”

“We can have cake? For lunch?” Scorpius looked as if this was a moment of unholy joy. Draco just barely kept from rolling his eyes. The joy part he knew about; the unholy part was promised by the gleam in Scorpius’s eyes.

“Yes,” said Andromeda, standing up and gliding towards the kitchen. “Just as soon as your Uncle Harry comes with me and makes it. You will, won’t you, Harry?”

Draco looked at Potter and blinked. It was unexpected, so he asked the first question that had entered his head. “You cook?”

“I’m full of surprises,” said Potter, with a curl of his lip that Draco would have found obnoxious a week ago. He disappeared into the kitchen with the two boys clamoring after him. Scorpius wanted to know why they couldn’t eat the cake right now, and Teddy was reassuring him that Uncle Harry’s baking was worth waiting for.

Draco stood where he had been, in a shaft of sunlight, and felt a long, slow bolt of contentment move through him.

Maybe this will work.

Chapter Twenty-Three.

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