Fic: After Effect, Harry/Draco, NC-17, [Complete]
Title: After Effect
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17
Summary: No one knew Draco had a daughter, but due to unfortunate circumstances surrounding the end of the War he'll have to bring her to school for his eighth year. Perhaps a bit of innocence can help to open eyes.
This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Chapter Six
Saturday was a Hogsmeade weekend. Harry hadn’t been planning on going, but Hermione had told him she’d asked Malfoy, and apparently he was going in order to get Carina presents for her birthday, which was the fifteenth: this Tuesday.
When Harry had decided to join he hadn’t noticed the growing understanding in Hermione’s eyes shine brighter.
They’d all walked down together, Ron holding Carina’s hand (who had taken a great liking to him) while the other three talked. It was mostly Malfoy and Hermione, but Harry managed to speak up a few times.
When they reached the main street Malfoy purposefully looked at Hermione, who winked and took Carina’s other hand.
“Wanna come to Zonko’s with me and Ron?” she asked. Carina grinned excitedly.
“What’s Zonko’s?”
“Kind of like a toy shop,” Ron said mischievously.
“Oh, yes!”
“Be good,” said Malfoy, and Carina gave him her biggest, most innocent smile.
“I will, Papa!”
Malfoy sighed but Harry spotted a smile all the same.
“Harry, why don’t you go with Malfoy,” Hermione suggested, and before anyone could protest she, Ron, and Carina had started off in the direction of the joke shop.
A semi-awkward silence fell around them. Harry had hardly spoken to Malfoy since Tuesday when they’d sat by the lake. They’d merely acknowledged one another’s presence with a shared glance or a quick nod of the head. Hermione had spent time with them again on Thursday as well as talking to them quite a bit during classes, and Harry had interacted with Carina a fair bit (who, he didn't mind admitting, he was becoming quite obsessed with), but that was about it. He wasn’t sure how to handle this. Only a few days ago he’d begun speaking to Malfoy as a civilized human being after six full school years of hatred and a year on legitimate opposite sides of an all-out war. But that wasn’t the part that had his stomach churning and his heart pounding. It was the fact that he was beginning to notice things about Malfoy that he didn’t even notice on other blokes, let alone him. Like the way he smiled when he was looking at or talking about his daughter. Or how he had two tiny dimples in his cheeks. Even the way his no-doubt expensive clothing fit him perfectly, and how you could tell he had a flat stomach by looking at the place where his shirt tucked into his trousers.
He wished it wasn’t an enticing sight, but it was. For the several thousandth time in the past few days he wondered when he’d suddenly found anything like that attractive.
Since you found out Malfoy was gay, a little voice in his head supplied helpfully. He inwardly rolled his eyes. It had never even crossed his mind that he’d have to explore his sexuality, but … well, he didn’t need any more drama right now. He’d promised himself after the War that he’d take life as it came. This promise was certainly being put to the test.
He was alone with Malfoy now and he wasn’t quite sure how to act, especially considering how their last conversation had ended, but he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t happy to spend some time with him.
“So,” he said, feeling his cheeks heat up. Malfoy turned to him, looking both irritated and uncomfortable. “Er-what were you thinking about getting her?” Malfoy stared at him for a moment longer before stalking away. Harry sighed and ran to catch up.
Malfoy was such a girl sometimes.
While he wasn’t acknowledging Harry, he wasn’t making any effort to get rid of him, so Harry tentatively followed Malfoy into Honeydukes.
It was like walking into the past.
“God, I haven’t been here in a while,” he said, smiling, and looked around. He caught the barest hint of a nostalgic grin on Malfoy’s face as well.
“I’m not sure there’s much I can get her from here,” he said, apparently having given up on being hostile. Harry let out a relieved, albeit quiet, sigh.
“Why?” he asked, beginning to walk further into the store. Malfoy followed. “What kid doesn’t like candy?”
“Apparently mine,” Malfoy chuckled. Harry looked at him incredulously.
“She doesn’t like any kind of sweets? Licorice wands, Pumpkin Pasties, Chocolate Frogs? Nothing? Have you given her treacle tart? Or Muggle candy, even? Mars Bars?”
“All of the above, actually, except that Muggle candy.” Malfoy looked around the store without any real enthusiasm. “She’s just not very interested. I suppose I can get her a few things, though… Just because.”
“Get her Ice Mice and the like. At least they’ll be entertaining.”
To his astonishment, Malfoy smiled.
“That’s not a bad idea.” Harry followed him to the shelves of magical sweets. They had to push their way through crowds of first years, but eventually found a small space.
“Those are disgusting,” Harry said, gazing distastefully at the Cockroach Clusters. Malfoy smirked and Harry suddenly wondered if he shouldn’t have said anything.
“Don’t like bugs, Potter?” he teased. Harry flushed.
“Not in my candy.”
“I don’t suppose Carina will either.” Malfoy studied the large array of sweets and ended up taking several each of the Chocoballs, Ice Mice, Fizzing Whizbees, Squeaking Sugar Mice, Pepper Imps, and Jelly Slugs. Harry couldn’t help comparing this to the way Narcissa had doted on her son when they were younger. He could vividly recall Malfoy’s snarky remarks about the loads of sweets he’d receive in the mail.
He smiled to himself.
“No Chocolate Frogs? Or Peppermint Toads?”
“She detests frogs,” Malfoy explained.
“Drooble’s gum?”
Malfoy stared at him. “She’s three, Potter. She’ll choke.”
“Oh. Er-right.” He flushed brightly, turning even redder when Malfoy smirked and turned in the direction of the counter.
Once outside they both looked around.
“I don’t suppose they’ve left Zonko’s,” Draco sighed.
“Why? Did you wanna go there?”
“Well, it’s the only place I’ll find something very useful, isn’t it? Where else do I get her something?”
“What about a toy broomstick?”
Malfoy snorted. “Good one, Potter. I suppose you’ll be the one tending to her wounds and mopping up her tears when she flies into a wall?”
“Oh, come on,” Harry said, a bit excited now. “You should get her a broom! It would be fun!”
“Absolutely not.” Malfoy started off toward Zonko’s but Harry, determined, grabbed his arm.
“I’ll teach her,” he said, giddy with excitement. Malfoy raised an eyebrow at the hand on his arm and Harry quickly pulled away, flushing, but continued all the same. “Really! And I’ll even deal with her when she gets hurt.” And then he had another brilliant idea. “I’ll buy it for her! It’ll be from me!” Without waiting for Malfoy’s response he began dragging him over to Quality Quidditch Supplies.
“This is absurd, Potter!” Malfoy yelled as they entered the store. “I’m not putting my child on a broomstick!”
Harry turned to face him. “If I remember correctly, you were flying on a broom at a young age, weren’t you? Mister I-had-a-run-in-with-a-Muggle-helicopter.”
Malfoy flushed. “Oh, very funny, Potter. Hilarious. That’s entirely different! My parents were…”
“What?” Harry pressed, smirking.
“It was irresponsible of them! I could have gotten hurt!”
“Oh, lighten up,” said Harry, pulling him over to the toy broomsticks. “I had one when I was under a year old.” Malfoy stopped abruptly and Harry turned to him.
“How… How do you know that..?”
The memory stirred up a small, sad bubble in Harry’s stomach, but it wasn’t enough to ruin his mood. In fact, he rather liked thinking about it now. Instead of being sad, he determined to think fondly of his parents and the one year he’d had with them.
“I found a picture and a letter at my godfather’s house,” he explained. Malfoy was listening intently. “From my mum. The picture was of me on a toy broomstick. It was ripped, so you could only see my father’s legs behind me. In the letter my mum was telling Sirius how I loved riding it.”
“Telling, that,” said Malfoy quietly.
“And if your enthusiasm and skill on a broomstick are anything to go by, your daughter will love it as well.”
“My skills,” Malfoy snorted, but said nothing more on the subject, merely allowing himself to be dragged the rest of the way over.
“Which one do you think?”
There were a lot to choose from. Pink ones with yellow stars, red ones with pink hearts, blue ones, multi-colored ones, ones that resembled the Nimbus series and the Firebolt, and even ones that looked like Muggle broomsticks, just altered a bit.
“Well, she certainly likes the color pink,” said Malfoy, his nose scrunched. Harry laughed.
“Pink it is, then.” There were different sizes that depended upon age, weight, height, etc. Toy broomsticks were apparently first and foremost designed for safety. “I think this one,” he said, reaching for a small pink one located in the section designated for three-year-olds. “She’s rather small.”
“I swear to Merlin, Potter, if this turns out bad…”
“Oh, relax.” Harry inspected the broom, smiling at the thought of Carina flying around a few feet above the ground, her blond hair billowing out behind her. “She’ll be with a pro.” He winked cheekily and Malfoy mumbled something about arrogant Gryffindor Seekers. Harry then brought the broom to the counter, paid for it, and the two left the shop.
“Oh, good, they’ve left Zonko’s.” Malfoy was pointing at the street. Harry followed his finger and saw that, indeed, Ron, Hermione, and Carina were heading toward Honeydukes. Carina was in the middle, holding one of each of their hands.
“Merlin, those two with a child,” said Harry, smiling at his two best friends. He felt Malfoy’s eyes on him and turned to meet his gaze.
“Do you think they’ll get married?”
“Yeah, I do.” And he did. It had taken seven years for them to figure it out, but now that they were beginning to explore it Harry thought it would quite possibly last.
“Dear God, Weasley-Granger offspring.” Malfoy made a horrendous face and Harry couldn’t help but laugh.
“A few months ago I would have said the same thing about you,” Harry smirked.
“That might have been a good one, Potter, were you not holding a rather expensive gift for my daughter in your hand.”
Harry glared at him before turning around and making his way to Zonko’s. He heard Malfoy laughing behind him.
* * *
Carina was browsing the shelves of Honeydukes, though she didn’t seem particularly interested in the food, but the magical effects of the candy.
“I’ve talked to Carina,” Hermione told Ron. He looked at her in confusion.
“About what?”
“She told me Draco smiles more when Harry’s around.” Ron made a sour face. “I told her if she helped me with something that I’d get her a fish.”
“What is she helping you with..?”
“Well, she doesn’t really understand why her dad smiles more around Harry… I just explained that he made Draco happy. And she wants him to be happy, of course. So I… Well, I told her that I didn’t think Harry knew Draco liked him, and that she should tell him.”
Ron looked skeptical. “You think Harry will take a three-year-old’s word? I don’t know, ‘Mione, that doesn’t seem very-”
“No, no.” She held up her hand. “I told her to do it tomorrow. I’ll make them both come outside to study. I said she should tell Harry that she thinks her dad has a crush on him-out loud, so that Draco hears.”
“Hermione, are you mad?!” Ron’s eyes had gotten very large indeed. “Malfoy’ll go mental!”
“But it’s true! And I thought that if you and I took Carina away they could talk about it.” Ron looked extremely uncertain. “Those two are stubborn and you know it! If we don’t do something they never will!”
“Since when are you so Slytherin?” Ron asked, though a small smirk tugged at his lips. “And since when do you care about Malfoy!”
“Since I want Harry to be happy.”
Ron sighed and rubbed his eye. “I still don’t see how he can … fancy him. They hated each other.”
“You know, Ron, sometimes hatred that intense is just a cover for something else one doesn’t want to admit to oneself.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Okay, Dumbledore.” He smirked and ducked when Hermione aimed a bag of sweets at his head.
Link to Chapter Seven
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Rating: NC-17
Summary: No one knew Draco had a daughter, but due to unfortunate circumstances surrounding the end of the War he'll have to bring her to school for his eighth year. Perhaps a bit of innocence can help to open eyes.
This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Chapter Six
Saturday was a Hogsmeade weekend. Harry hadn’t been planning on going, but Hermione had told him she’d asked Malfoy, and apparently he was going in order to get Carina presents for her birthday, which was the fifteenth: this Tuesday.
When Harry had decided to join he hadn’t noticed the growing understanding in Hermione’s eyes shine brighter.
They’d all walked down together, Ron holding Carina’s hand (who had taken a great liking to him) while the other three talked. It was mostly Malfoy and Hermione, but Harry managed to speak up a few times.
When they reached the main street Malfoy purposefully looked at Hermione, who winked and took Carina’s other hand.
“Wanna come to Zonko’s with me and Ron?” she asked. Carina grinned excitedly.
“What’s Zonko’s?”
“Kind of like a toy shop,” Ron said mischievously.
“Oh, yes!”
“Be good,” said Malfoy, and Carina gave him her biggest, most innocent smile.
“I will, Papa!”
Malfoy sighed but Harry spotted a smile all the same.
“Harry, why don’t you go with Malfoy,” Hermione suggested, and before anyone could protest she, Ron, and Carina had started off in the direction of the joke shop.
A semi-awkward silence fell around them. Harry had hardly spoken to Malfoy since Tuesday when they’d sat by the lake. They’d merely acknowledged one another’s presence with a shared glance or a quick nod of the head. Hermione had spent time with them again on Thursday as well as talking to them quite a bit during classes, and Harry had interacted with Carina a fair bit (who, he didn't mind admitting, he was becoming quite obsessed with), but that was about it. He wasn’t sure how to handle this. Only a few days ago he’d begun speaking to Malfoy as a civilized human being after six full school years of hatred and a year on legitimate opposite sides of an all-out war. But that wasn’t the part that had his stomach churning and his heart pounding. It was the fact that he was beginning to notice things about Malfoy that he didn’t even notice on other blokes, let alone him. Like the way he smiled when he was looking at or talking about his daughter. Or how he had two tiny dimples in his cheeks. Even the way his no-doubt expensive clothing fit him perfectly, and how you could tell he had a flat stomach by looking at the place where his shirt tucked into his trousers.
He wished it wasn’t an enticing sight, but it was. For the several thousandth time in the past few days he wondered when he’d suddenly found anything like that attractive.
Since you found out Malfoy was gay, a little voice in his head supplied helpfully. He inwardly rolled his eyes. It had never even crossed his mind that he’d have to explore his sexuality, but … well, he didn’t need any more drama right now. He’d promised himself after the War that he’d take life as it came. This promise was certainly being put to the test.
He was alone with Malfoy now and he wasn’t quite sure how to act, especially considering how their last conversation had ended, but he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t happy to spend some time with him.
“So,” he said, feeling his cheeks heat up. Malfoy turned to him, looking both irritated and uncomfortable. “Er-what were you thinking about getting her?” Malfoy stared at him for a moment longer before stalking away. Harry sighed and ran to catch up.
Malfoy was such a girl sometimes.
While he wasn’t acknowledging Harry, he wasn’t making any effort to get rid of him, so Harry tentatively followed Malfoy into Honeydukes.
It was like walking into the past.
“God, I haven’t been here in a while,” he said, smiling, and looked around. He caught the barest hint of a nostalgic grin on Malfoy’s face as well.
“I’m not sure there’s much I can get her from here,” he said, apparently having given up on being hostile. Harry let out a relieved, albeit quiet, sigh.
“Why?” he asked, beginning to walk further into the store. Malfoy followed. “What kid doesn’t like candy?”
“Apparently mine,” Malfoy chuckled. Harry looked at him incredulously.
“She doesn’t like any kind of sweets? Licorice wands, Pumpkin Pasties, Chocolate Frogs? Nothing? Have you given her treacle tart? Or Muggle candy, even? Mars Bars?”
“All of the above, actually, except that Muggle candy.” Malfoy looked around the store without any real enthusiasm. “She’s just not very interested. I suppose I can get her a few things, though… Just because.”
“Get her Ice Mice and the like. At least they’ll be entertaining.”
To his astonishment, Malfoy smiled.
“That’s not a bad idea.” Harry followed him to the shelves of magical sweets. They had to push their way through crowds of first years, but eventually found a small space.
“Those are disgusting,” Harry said, gazing distastefully at the Cockroach Clusters. Malfoy smirked and Harry suddenly wondered if he shouldn’t have said anything.
“Don’t like bugs, Potter?” he teased. Harry flushed.
“Not in my candy.”
“I don’t suppose Carina will either.” Malfoy studied the large array of sweets and ended up taking several each of the Chocoballs, Ice Mice, Fizzing Whizbees, Squeaking Sugar Mice, Pepper Imps, and Jelly Slugs. Harry couldn’t help comparing this to the way Narcissa had doted on her son when they were younger. He could vividly recall Malfoy’s snarky remarks about the loads of sweets he’d receive in the mail.
He smiled to himself.
“No Chocolate Frogs? Or Peppermint Toads?”
“She detests frogs,” Malfoy explained.
“Drooble’s gum?”
Malfoy stared at him. “She’s three, Potter. She’ll choke.”
“Oh. Er-right.” He flushed brightly, turning even redder when Malfoy smirked and turned in the direction of the counter.
Once outside they both looked around.
“I don’t suppose they’ve left Zonko’s,” Draco sighed.
“Why? Did you wanna go there?”
“Well, it’s the only place I’ll find something very useful, isn’t it? Where else do I get her something?”
“What about a toy broomstick?”
Malfoy snorted. “Good one, Potter. I suppose you’ll be the one tending to her wounds and mopping up her tears when she flies into a wall?”
“Oh, come on,” Harry said, a bit excited now. “You should get her a broom! It would be fun!”
“Absolutely not.” Malfoy started off toward Zonko’s but Harry, determined, grabbed his arm.
“I’ll teach her,” he said, giddy with excitement. Malfoy raised an eyebrow at the hand on his arm and Harry quickly pulled away, flushing, but continued all the same. “Really! And I’ll even deal with her when she gets hurt.” And then he had another brilliant idea. “I’ll buy it for her! It’ll be from me!” Without waiting for Malfoy’s response he began dragging him over to Quality Quidditch Supplies.
“This is absurd, Potter!” Malfoy yelled as they entered the store. “I’m not putting my child on a broomstick!”
Harry turned to face him. “If I remember correctly, you were flying on a broom at a young age, weren’t you? Mister I-had-a-run-in-with-a-Muggle-helicopter.”
Malfoy flushed. “Oh, very funny, Potter. Hilarious. That’s entirely different! My parents were…”
“What?” Harry pressed, smirking.
“It was irresponsible of them! I could have gotten hurt!”
“Oh, lighten up,” said Harry, pulling him over to the toy broomsticks. “I had one when I was under a year old.” Malfoy stopped abruptly and Harry turned to him.
“How… How do you know that..?”
The memory stirred up a small, sad bubble in Harry’s stomach, but it wasn’t enough to ruin his mood. In fact, he rather liked thinking about it now. Instead of being sad, he determined to think fondly of his parents and the one year he’d had with them.
“I found a picture and a letter at my godfather’s house,” he explained. Malfoy was listening intently. “From my mum. The picture was of me on a toy broomstick. It was ripped, so you could only see my father’s legs behind me. In the letter my mum was telling Sirius how I loved riding it.”
“Telling, that,” said Malfoy quietly.
“And if your enthusiasm and skill on a broomstick are anything to go by, your daughter will love it as well.”
“My skills,” Malfoy snorted, but said nothing more on the subject, merely allowing himself to be dragged the rest of the way over.
“Which one do you think?”
There were a lot to choose from. Pink ones with yellow stars, red ones with pink hearts, blue ones, multi-colored ones, ones that resembled the Nimbus series and the Firebolt, and even ones that looked like Muggle broomsticks, just altered a bit.
“Well, she certainly likes the color pink,” said Malfoy, his nose scrunched. Harry laughed.
“Pink it is, then.” There were different sizes that depended upon age, weight, height, etc. Toy broomsticks were apparently first and foremost designed for safety. “I think this one,” he said, reaching for a small pink one located in the section designated for three-year-olds. “She’s rather small.”
“I swear to Merlin, Potter, if this turns out bad…”
“Oh, relax.” Harry inspected the broom, smiling at the thought of Carina flying around a few feet above the ground, her blond hair billowing out behind her. “She’ll be with a pro.” He winked cheekily and Malfoy mumbled something about arrogant Gryffindor Seekers. Harry then brought the broom to the counter, paid for it, and the two left the shop.
“Oh, good, they’ve left Zonko’s.” Malfoy was pointing at the street. Harry followed his finger and saw that, indeed, Ron, Hermione, and Carina were heading toward Honeydukes. Carina was in the middle, holding one of each of their hands.
“Merlin, those two with a child,” said Harry, smiling at his two best friends. He felt Malfoy’s eyes on him and turned to meet his gaze.
“Do you think they’ll get married?”
“Yeah, I do.” And he did. It had taken seven years for them to figure it out, but now that they were beginning to explore it Harry thought it would quite possibly last.
“Dear God, Weasley-Granger offspring.” Malfoy made a horrendous face and Harry couldn’t help but laugh.
“A few months ago I would have said the same thing about you,” Harry smirked.
“That might have been a good one, Potter, were you not holding a rather expensive gift for my daughter in your hand.”
Harry glared at him before turning around and making his way to Zonko’s. He heard Malfoy laughing behind him.
* * *
Carina was browsing the shelves of Honeydukes, though she didn’t seem particularly interested in the food, but the magical effects of the candy.
“I’ve talked to Carina,” Hermione told Ron. He looked at her in confusion.
“About what?”
“She told me Draco smiles more when Harry’s around.” Ron made a sour face. “I told her if she helped me with something that I’d get her a fish.”
“What is she helping you with..?”
“Well, she doesn’t really understand why her dad smiles more around Harry… I just explained that he made Draco happy. And she wants him to be happy, of course. So I… Well, I told her that I didn’t think Harry knew Draco liked him, and that she should tell him.”
Ron looked skeptical. “You think Harry will take a three-year-old’s word? I don’t know, ‘Mione, that doesn’t seem very-”
“No, no.” She held up her hand. “I told her to do it tomorrow. I’ll make them both come outside to study. I said she should tell Harry that she thinks her dad has a crush on him-out loud, so that Draco hears.”
“Hermione, are you mad?!” Ron’s eyes had gotten very large indeed. “Malfoy’ll go mental!”
“But it’s true! And I thought that if you and I took Carina away they could talk about it.” Ron looked extremely uncertain. “Those two are stubborn and you know it! If we don’t do something they never will!”
“Since when are you so Slytherin?” Ron asked, though a small smirk tugged at his lips. “And since when do you care about Malfoy!”
“Since I want Harry to be happy.”
Ron sighed and rubbed his eye. “I still don’t see how he can … fancy him. They hated each other.”
“You know, Ron, sometimes hatred that intense is just a cover for something else one doesn’t want to admit to oneself.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Okay, Dumbledore.” He smirked and ducked when Hermione aimed a bag of sweets at his head.
Link to Chapter Seven