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.
Author's Note: I'm terribly sorry about the amount of fluff in the beginning. The song is "Come, Josephine, in my Flying Machine" by Maire Brennan. Well, the one from Titanic is, at least. And that's the one I was listening to, obviously, because I like to torture myself with that movie every once in a while.
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 Fourteen
“…Is Dumbledore omniscient?”
Draco scowled at Harry as he began to laugh raucously, rolling around the floor of his own room similarly to the way he’d done when Draco’s hair had been dyed red.
“Draco,” he gasped, clutching at his stomach with one hand and pounding the floor with the other. “I… Dumbledore…”
This continued for another few minutes. Draco sat back in his chair and crossed his legs, waiting for his boyfriend to stop acting like a three-year-old. When Harry finally managed to catch his breath he sat up on his legs and looked at Draco, a crazy smile playing on his face.
“God, I just pictured Dumbledore sitting up in the sky on a cloud, just hangin’ out, you know, watching everyone down on Earth. Merlin.”
“I’m glad you found that so funny,” Draco drawled.
Harry raised a brow. “You weren’t serious…”
Draco huffed. “When I had that meeting with McGonagall the other day she kept saying things, like … like she knew what was going on everywhere in the school. She’d known you were outside with Carina showing her how to fly a broom.”
Harry bit his lip, clearly holding back more laughter.
“I don’t know if you’d noticed, Draco, but there are these holes in the walls called windows-”
“You won’t finish that sentence if you plan on living to see Christmas,” said Draco, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Harry smirked.
“Okay, okay. McGonagall knows shit she shouldn’t. So what? Dumbledore was always like that. He’s dead, though. What does this have to do with him?”
Draco dropped his arms and looked around, almost as though said former headmaster might be watching.
“When I was leaving the office I looked at his portrait and I swear I saw him smirk.”
“That’s because Dumbledore’s always up to something, even when he’s completely powerless inside of a portrait.” He stopped and seemed to consider this. Then he laughed. “In fact, he probably does have something to do with it. Merlin knows I wouldn’t be surprised if he found a way to jump out of the frame and walk around Hogwarts.”
Now it was Draco’s turn to laugh, though he didn’t reduce himself to graceless fits of barbaric laughter.
“What does it matter, anyway?” Harry asked, looking genuinely interested now. He crossed his legs and leaned back on his arms, looking much too attractive, in Draco’s opinion, to be allowed.
“I don’t know. I suppose it doesn’t.”
Harry smiled softly and stood up, coming over to Draco’s chair and sitting directly in his lap.
“Potter, you barbarian! Get off of me!”
Harry laughed and stood up, but he brought Draco up with him. He sat down, then, in the chair and pulled Draco into his own lap, nuzzling his neck and wrapping his much larger arms around Draco’s smaller frame.
Draco’s would-be furious tirade was cut off sharply when he felt Harry’s breath on his neck. That wasn’t the startling part, though. It was the soft sound of Harry’s voice in his ear. He was singing. It was breathy and almost inaudible, but Draco could hear it.
“Come, Josephine, in my flying machine... And it's up she goes, up she goes...”
Draco swallowed thickly and let his gaze fall on nothing in particular, so intent on focusing on Harry’s voice was he. Goose bumps were rapidly spreading over his flesh as Harry continued to sing against his ear. Draco had no idea what the song was, but it sounded so achingly romantic that he swore tears would soon start pooling behind his eyes.
“Harry…” he whispered, but Harry ignored him, continuing instead to sing.
“Up, up, a little bit higher… Oh, my, the moon is on fire…”
Harry’s arms wound more tightly around Draco’s waist, pulling them flush against each other. Draco couldn’t see Harry, but he could have sworn the other boy was in some kind of trance.
He turned his head so he could face Harry and finally he stopped singing and looked up at Draco. Indeed, he looked a bit confused for a moment.
“What was that?” Draco whispered. Harry smiled softly. He didn't say anything, though-instead he leaned in hesitantly and kissed Draco, pouring so much emotion into the kiss that for a moment Draco lost himself entirely.
“I love you,” Harry whispered against his lips. Draco tensed. He was hyperaware of the fact that this was the third time Harry had said that to him and he had yet to say it back. He bit his lip, afraid this might be the time Harry would call him out on it. To his immense relief, however, Harry merely chuckled and kissed him again before nuzzling his neck once more. Draco ran his hands through Harry’s hair-closed his eyes and rested his head on top of Harry’s.
He didn’t know yet how he felt about the word “love,” but he couldn’t pretend his stomach wasn’t beginning to ache with something dangerously close to it.
* * *
Draco walked with Carina and Hermione to Ancient Runes, a class which they did not share with Harry or Ron. Hermione was nattering on about a test they had coming up, one which she did not feel she was adequately prepared for.
“Will you stop worrying?” Draco laughed. Hermione glared at him as they stopped outside the classroom, ignoring the looks from their classmates that still hadn’t ceased. Yesterday had been Harry and Draco’s two-month anniversary, and yet the rest of Hogwarts continued to act as though this was a recent development.
“If I fail this test, Draco, how can I expect to pass my-!”
“You won’t fail!” Draco grabbed Hermione’s bundle of notes and held them high up so she couldn’t reach, though she certainly tried. Carina stood next to Hermione giggling at the immature display.
“Draco! What are you doing! Give those back!”
“Let’s see,” he said, rifling through the thick stack of parchment above his head. “This is, what, six feet worth of notes?” He looked down at Carina and winked. “Think Hermione’ll pass the test?”
The little girl nodded fervently with her thumb in her mouth and Hermione smiled grudgingly. “Don’t worry, Hermany, you will be great!” She grabbed Hermione’s hand and re-situated her thumb, attempting to smile around the digit. Hermione chuckled and rolled her eyes.
“See? And Malfoys are never wrong.”
“Oh, please,” Hermione mumbled just as the door to the classroom opened and the class began filing inside. She turned to Draco. “You’d better hope that’s true.”
“Or what?” Draco teased.
“Or I’ll monopolize your boyfriend over break.”
Draco’s mouth fell open as she turned to walk into the room, Carina following behind her. “You're an evil woman, Granger!” he hissed.
* * *
Draco’s stomach was doing incredible backflips as he boarded the train ahead of the Gryffindor trio. He was forcibly reminded of the beginning of the year when he’d discreetly boarded with Carina, praying no one would notice them. He didn’t particularly care anymore, but that didn’t mean the stares didn't make him uncomfortable. They did. He studiously ignored them, though, focusing instead on finding an empty compartment. When he did, he opened the door and ushered Carina inside ahead of him. Harry came up behind him and took hold of the door.
“What are you doing?” Draco asked, turning to face Harry. Harry gave him a sideways smile that caused butterflies to start whirring around in his stomach.
“Holding the door for you.”
Draco blushed furiously and was about to argue when Ron said loudly, “Oh, for crying out loud, can we save your romantics for later?”
“You’ll shut your mouth and hold the door for me if you know what’s good for you, Ronald Weasley.”
Ron huffed and held the door for Hermione once Harry and Draco had gone inside, the former laughing at his best friend.
Carina took up space on Harry’s lap, leaning her head against his chest and going immediately to sleep. Emilie and Crookshanks slept peacefully side-by-side next to Ron.
* * *
Harry ran his fingers through Carina’s hair, smiling softly down at her sleeping form. He looked up, however, when he felt Draco lay his head on Harry’s shoulder and make a content little sigh. His eyes were closed and his pale lashes just brushed his cheekbones. He’d threaded his fingers with Harry’s on the hand that was resting on the seat, the other still preoccupied with Carina.
Harry felt a warm, bubbling sensation in his stomach as he looked at Draco, and he felt his throat tighten. For what felt like the hundredth time in the past few days he asked himself two things: first, how had he fallen so in love with someone so quickly? Secondly, and most curiously, how had he never before noticed how beautiful Draco was? He wasn’t perfect by any means; he was still a bit gaunt due to the War, his personality certainly had its drawbacks, he had a tiny scar just under his left eye that he’d once complained about to Harry, but these things only made him better in Harry’s eyes.
He gently released Draco’s hand in favor of wrapping it around his small waist and pulling him closer. Draco smiled with his eyes still shut and leaned into the embrace.
When Harry looked up again Ron and Hermione were both staring at them, Hermione biting her lip to hide a very large smile and Ron smirking, an eyebrow raised.
Hermione pointed silently at Draco and Carina and then said silently, “They look so alike.” Harry’s smile grew and he nodded. She pointed at Draco again and mouthed, “Question” and “later.”
Harry’s eyebrows dipped but he nodded, wondering what she could have to ask him about Draco. He looked to Ron but he simply shrugged, apparently having no more idea as to what was going on inside Hermione’s mind than Harry did.
A few hours passed and Carina had moved to Ron’s lap at some point and amused herself by spewing out arbitrary letters and asking what they spelled. Harry had taken this opportunity to move so he was sitting with his back against the window, Draco lying next to him against the back of the seat with his head on Harry’s chest. He’d hardly woken when Harry had done this, only mumbling something sleepily which Harry had found absolutely adorable. Ron had found it rather funny.
Hermione currently had her nose buried in a book, Ron was now amusing Carina by reading her a story out of Hermione’s copy of Beedle the Bard, and Harry was idly stroking Draco’s arm, staring out into the corridor and watching students periodically pass by.
“What would you want from the Fountain?” Carina asked Ron after he’d finished The Fountain of Fair Fortune.
“Hmm,” he mused, pursing his lips in mock concentration. “I think I’d like a wicked new pair of trainers!”
“Very humble,” Hermione laughed.
“No, you have to want something nice!” Carina said, jabbing the book with a finger. “Like for no one to be mean to anyone!”
“Is that what you’d wish for?” Ron asked, smiling adoringly down at the little girl in his lap. Carina seemed to think about this for a moment before turning to look at Harry and her father, cuddled up together on the opposite seat. Harry was still staring blankly out into the corridor.
“No,” she said, starting to smile. “I would wish for Harry to always love me and Papa forever and ever so Papa will be happy all the time!”
At the mention of his name Harry looked over, and by the end of Carina’s sentence he was smiling at her.
“I already promised, didn’t I?” he said softly. Carina blushed and nodded. She leaned up in Ron’s lap then and hugged him around his neck. Ron chuckled and hugged her back.
“And I would wish for you and Hermany to be my friends forever, too!”
“Think Draco was this cute when he was three?” Hermione asked, smirking.
“Not if his eleven-year-old self is anything to go by,” Ron mumbled. Hermione hit him in the arm but Harry saw she was smiling.
“You knew Papa when he was little?!” Carina gasped.
Harry, Hermione, and Ron looked at each other, all wondering the same thing: what in the world did they tell her? Of course they’d known him, but their memories of him were nothing but bad ones.
“Er-a little bit,” Hermione said carefully. Carina’s eyes went wide with curiosity and excitement. “But we weren’t friends with him, exactly.”
Carina looked crestfallen. “Why not?”
“We just didn’t know him very well.” Hermione looked extremely uncomfortable. Harry wished he could come up with a story quickly, something that would mollify Carina without being a total lie.
“We were in a different House than him,” Ron cut in, and both and Harry and Hermione looked at him sharply, as though waiting for him to say something he shouldn’t. “We just didn’t see him very much. He had his own friends, right?”
Hermione nodded fervently, planting a smile back on her face and looking at Carina.
“Exactly. He had friends in his own House and back then, before-er-well, back when we were little people stuck with their own Houses a bit more.”
“What’s a House?” Carina asked quietly, though she looked more satisfied than before.
“Oh… Well, you know how your dad wears a green tie? And he has that little green patch with a snake on his robes?” Carina looked over to her father and nodded. “And see how Harry, Ron, and I have the red and gold ties and a little lion on our patch? That’s our House. Your dad never told you about them?” Carina shook her head and eyes Ron’s patch more closely. Hermione looked to Harry, a smile forming on her lips. “He really has changed,” she said quietly. “He didn’t even tell her what Slytherin is.”
Harry looked down at Draco fondly and slipped a hand beneath one pale arm to rest on his stomach. Beneath his robes he was wearing very casual clothes today-and Harry thought it looked amazing. He loved how Draco normally dressed, sure, but seeing him in a plain, navy blue V-neck and a pair of faded denims had Harry’s mouth watering. To be completely honest, though, he thought the clothes would look even better off of Draco’s body.
“That’s why we live in different places,” Hermione continued to explain. “The Houses are just like little groups at Hogwarts.”
“You can’t be friends with people if they aren’t in your House?” Carina asked sadly.
“Oh, no, no, no, of course you can! Back when we, and your father, first came to Hogwarts people weren’t as friendly, though. Things are different now.”
“Why are they different?”
“Boy, she likes to ask questions, doesn’t she?” Ron sighed.
“I’m not sure,” Hermione said, and Harry could tell she felt bad for lying. But he knew why she was doing it: if Draco hadn’t spoken about the War to Carina, then it certainly wasn’t their place to do so. He just hoped Draco planned on doing it before Carina inevitably found out for herself in books, newspapers, magazines, etc. “But I’m glad it is.”
“Me too.” Carina rested her head against Ron’s chest and stuck her thumb in her mouth, seemingly preparing to nap again. They still had a few hours before they’d be in London.
* * *
Draco was a nervous wreck when they stepped onto Platform 9¾ . His hands were sweating and he was aware of the fact that he was holding Harry’s hand much too tightly, but he couldn’t help it. He was so sure one of the Weasleys would try to kill him. Why wouldn’t they? His father had been absolutely horrible to them and Draco himself had always given them a hard time about their hair, their house, and their money.
He was doomed.
Carina, on the other hand, had bounce in her step as she walked alongside Hermione toward the group of three gingers waiting in the station.
“Bill!” Ginny Weasley ran up to someone Draco assumed was a brother, though he looked astonishingly different than the other Weasleys. He had long hair tied into a ponytail and a-was that a fang in his ear? The most noticeable part of his appearance, though, was a myriad of scars on his face.
As he and Harry got closer Mrs. Weasley came right up to him, to his immense surprise, and placed her hands on his shoulders.
“This must be hard for you,” she said kindly. “Just know that you are entirely welcome in our home.”
“Thank you,” Draco said quietly, staring up at this woman who was the very embodiment of a mother, and suddenly the death of his own mother washed over him more intensely than it had in a long time. He felt Harry grab his hand and squeeze. Draco looked around at him and then at the ground, terrified that he might start crying right here in front of everyone. Mrs. Weasley seemed to notice because she quickly turned her attention to Carina.
“Hello!” she said brightly, and leaned over so they were face-to-face. Carina blushed and scuffed her shoe on the ground.
“Hi,” she giggled.
“Oh, aren’t you adorable!” Mrs. Weasley laughed. “What’s your name, dear?”
“Carina.”
“Beautiful. My name’s Molly.” Mrs. Weasley held out her hand and Carina shook it, still giggling. “You can call me Grandma Molly if you’d like.”
Draco gaped at her. Mrs. Weasley looked up at him and said, “If that’s alright with your father, of course.”
“Oh, I… Yes, of course,” he said hurriedly. Harry wrapped an arm around Draco’s waist this time and kissed his cheek.
“Now she has a grandma,” he whispered. Draco wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold back tears.
Mr. Weasley introduced himself as well, and as the two adults were greeting their children and Hermione Bill came over and extended a hand to Draco.
“Bill Weasley,” he said, and he was smirking. Draco became immediately suspicious.
“Draco Malfoy,” he said slowly. He felt Harry tense up next to him. He wanted to ask, but knew better. He’d have to ask later.
“It’s nice to meet you. Mum’s been gushing recently, you know, with you being her little baby Harry’s love interest and all.”
“Bill,” Harry groaned. Bill laughed, and Draco thought it sounded a little like a bark.
“Just telling the truth.” He held his hands out in defense. “You’d think she didn’t care about Ginny the way she went on about you, Harry, after she heard you two had broken up.”
“How did she find out?”
“Ginny wrote.” At Harry’s expression he hurried on, “It wasn’t anything too detailed or bad about you. Just said you two had broken up. Then mum wrote Ron and asked how you were doing and told her you were doing really well. She kept writing after that, asking who the new bird was, because she had it in her head that you must have found someone else, and I tried to make her stop because it was getting weird, really, but finally Ron told her you were seeing a bloke. Told her it wasn’t his place to say who.”
“How does one mature so much in one year?” Draco drawled. Bill and Harry both laughed.
“She found out it was you, though, when Ginny wrote saying that you and your daughter were coming.
"Speaking of, I think she’ll like the fact that she won’t be the youngest at the Christmas party.”
Draco said “What?” at the same time that Harry exclaimed “Teddy!”
“Model godfather already, Harry,” Bill teased.
“Godfather?”
“Lupin and Tonks’s baby. Lupin named me his godfather just before he died.”
“Where is he living?” Draco asked quietly.
“With his grandparents. Tonks’s mum and dad. I haven’t seen him since July! How is he?”
“I haven’t either,” Bill said. “But mum said he’s gotten big. He’s nearly one now.”
“Yeah. Wow,” Harry breathed. Harry’s face was alight with happiness and Draco suddenly found himself feeling scared again. This was Harry’s territory-Draco didn’t belong here. He didn’t know these people, had never gotten along with most of them. Would Harry forget about him? Or worse, realize he doesn’t really want Draco in his life?
As if to quell these fears Harry turned to him and said, “I can’t wait for you to meet Teddy. You’ll love him.” Then he kissed Draco, right on the lips, in front of all the Weasleys, and Draco couldn’t help smiling into the kiss like a fool. “What?” Harry laughed as he pulled back, obviously having felt Draco’s smile.
“Nothing.” Draco shook his head and pecked Harry again lightly. “Thank you for bringing me.”
“Alright, everyone ready to go?” Draco, Bill, and Harry all looked around to see Mr. Weasley waving toward the exit. Harry grabbed Draco’s hand and, with a squeeze and another smile, led the way toward unknown territory.
* * *
The Weasleys’ house was more like a bunch of different pieces of other houses stacked on top of each other. Which was why Draco couldn’t explain to himself why it felt so damn good inside. It smelled like food-different than the kitchen at the Manor, though. It smelled like Mrs. Weasley had just been cooking. And it was bright and filled with pictures of the family and just an all-around good feeling. Draco couldn’t help looking around in awe when he stepped inside.
“This is really lovely,” he heard himself saying, eyes landing on a clock that bore the faces of the whole Weasley clan and different words to describe their situations. He’d seen one like it before in some relative’s house. Next to him, Harry was grinning like an idiot.
“Oh, thank you, dear,” Mrs. Weasley said, smiling in a surprised way. “Please, make yourself at home. Harry usually stays in Ron’s room, so you can stay in there as well. Carina, how would you like to share a room with Ginny and Hermione?”
Draco’s jaw nearly hit the ground when Ginny held out her hand to Carina and said, “Come on, I’ll show you where it is.” He turned to find that Harry was in a similar state.
Carina didn’t seem to find this odd because she gladly followed Ginny up a set of stairs and out of sight.
“What just happened?” Ron asked.
“Still thick-headed, eh, Ronnie?” Bill said, but before Ron could land a punch he’d walked from the room, laughing as he did so.
“Are Percy, George, or Charlie here?” Harry asked.
Oh, good Lord, how many are there? Draco thought desperately.
“Percy and George are at work, but they’re coming for dinner tonight. Charlie hasn’t come in from Romania yet. He’ll be here on the twenty-second,” Mr. Weasley explained.
“What about Fleur?” Hermione asked. Draco had no idea who this was, but he was fairly certain it couldn’t be a Weasley because he was sure Ginny was the only girl.
“Oh, she’s at their cottage,” Mrs. Weasley said as she began bustling about the kitchen, continuing to cook. Mr. Weasley left the room in the direction Bill had gone and that left Harry, Draco, Ron, and Hermione, the latter two of whom had taken a seat at the table. Harry dragged Draco over and held out a chair for him.
“My perfect gentleman,” Draco said, flashing Harry a smirk as he took a seat. Ron snorted into his glass of Pumpkin Juice and Hermione rolled her eyes.
“So why’s Bill here?” Hermione asked.
“He just wanted to come with to get you guys from the train. He’s leaving after dinner.” She turned and gave the four of them a devious smile. “I think Fleur’s pregnant,” she whispered. Hermione squealed and Ron gasped.
“Really?” Harry asked excitedly.
“They haven’t said anything, but I can spot a baby bump a mile away,” Mrs. Weasley said proudly. Draco laughed. “And besides, Bill said she’s been feeling sick in the morning.”
“Oh, how exciting!” Hermione said, sitting up straighter in her chair. “I hope it’s true!”
At that moment there was the sound of footsteps on the stairs and Carina came bounding back itno the kitchen, Ginny behind her. Ginny, however, left for the room in which Mr. Weasley and Bill now presumably sat.
“How would you like to help me cook dinner?” Mrs. Weasley asked, and Carina positively squealed with excitement. Draco watched in amusement as Carina climbed up on a stool and began stirring something Mrs. Weasley had passed to her.
“Papa?” Carina asked, spinning suddenly on the stool. Her hands were covered in some sort of dough.
“Yes?” he laughed.
“Why don’t we cook at our home?”
“The elves do it, sweetheart. Daddy doesn’t know how to cook.”
“You don’t know how to cook?” Harry asked, grinning much too widely at him.
“I grew up in a strictly magical household, Potter,” he drawled, brushing invisible dust off his shoulder. He stopped, though, and looked at Harry, mouth open as though he’d been offended.
“What?” Harry asked, looking suddenly afraid.
“You never told me about that elf!” Draco accused, pointing a finger at his boyfriend. “That elf at Carina’s party! You said you’d tell me about him!”
“Oh…” Harry said sheepishly. “That….”
“Thought I’d forget, eh, Potter? I don’t think so. Spill.”
“What elf?” Ron interrupted. “Kreacher?”
“That’s the one!” Draco mock-glared at Harry.
“What didn’t you tell him?” Hermione asked. Harry looked at his friends sharply, as though he was trying to convey a message. Hermione seemed to finally understand because her eyes went wide in recognition and then she giggled. Ron, however, remained clueless.
“Am I missing something?” Ron asked loudly.
“Don’t you remember?” Hermione said to him. Harry narrowed his eyes at her. “Sixth year? Harry had Kreacher-”
“Stalk Malfoy! Yeah!”
“Ron!”
“What?” Draco turned to Harry, biting his lips in an attempt to contain his laughter. “You did what sixth year?”
“Ron, you are such a git!”
“Oh, hush, Harry, you would have told him at some point,” Hermione laughed. Harry crossed his arms over his chest moodily.
“I’m sorry. Let me get this straight. You had your house-elf stalk me sixth year?”
“Not just one, either,” Ron said, beginning to enjoy himself. “He had Kreacher and Dobby following you around the school!”
“Why?!”
“He was obsessed with you,” Ron sighed, and Harry flushed bright red. Draco smirked at him. “Thought you were up to something-” But he trailed off, suddenly looking sheepish. This time Draco knew why. He looked to Harry.
“You knew?”
“I didn’t,” Harry said quietly. “I just suspected.”
“Suspected what?”
“I don’t know. That you were up to something.”
Draco felt like something was squeezing his stomach. Harry had known? The whole time? Had he been in the room while he’d been working on the Cabinet?
Mrs. Weasley was talking quietly to Carina while she was helping her stir something in a different bowl and Draco had the feeling she was trying to be polite and not listen in on their conversation. He grudgingly admitted that this woman had more class than he’d previously guessed.
“What did you think I was-?”
“Look, it doesn’t matter,” Harry said rather harshly. His face softened again quickly, though, and he grabbed Draco’s hand that was resting on the table. “I keep telling you that’s the past.”
“We’ll have to talk about it at some point, Harry,” Draco said quietly.
“We will,” Harry assured him, squeezing his hand gently. “In private, and not when we’ve just gotten to the Burrow.”
Their conversation was once again disrupted, this time by a swift knock on the door. A moment later it swung inward and George Weasley walked inside. The only reason Draco knew this was George was because he remembered, very vividly, seeing Fred Weasley killed outside of the Room of Requirement. He didn’t remember George not having one of his ears, but that could have been because he wasn’t really looking.
“Hullo,” he said brightly to the room at large, eyes landing only briefly on Draco. He strolled over to his mum and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
“Hello, George, darling,” she said. “This is Carina, Draco’s daughter. Carina, this is my son, George.”
“Hello,” she said shyly. George smiled and bowed deeply.
“The pleasure is all mine, madam.”
Carina giggled as he took her small hand and planted a kiss on it. He spun around, then, and grinned mischievously at his brother.
“Ickle Ronniekins,” he sung, walking slowly over to the chair where he sat. Ron bolted out of his seat and eyes George warily.
“This is no way to greet your brother!” Ron yelled, clearly assuming the worst.
“But, little brother, I only wanted to give you a hug.”
Ron glared at him and continued to circle the table as George followed predatorily.
“Oh, George, stop it,” Mrs. Weasley said calmly, as though she’d said it many, many times before in the past. Draco didn’t doubt that she had. He was surprised when George smiled and finally sat down at the table next to Hermione, taking Ron’s seat.
“Hey!” Ron yelled indignantly.
“Shouldn’ta gotten up,” George said with a shrug.
“You were gonna … do something to me!”
“I resent that, little brother.” Before Ron could say something else George directed his attention to Harry. “Savior. How nice to see you again. How have you been?”
Harry smiled and rolled his eyes with a laugh.
“I’ve been great. How about you, George?”
George leaned back in his chair and folded his arms behind his head.
“Business is booming,” he said. Ron scoffed. “Don’t be jealous, Ronnie. Someday, if you work really hard, maybe you can be our-my official product-tester.” Draco heard the slip-up and looked down at the table, feeling himself blush. He felt horrible having just been in his presence when his brother had died. The slip-up must have affected Ron, too, because he sobered quite a bit.
“Stuff it, George,” he said with a weak smile. George sighed and let the front legs of his chair fall back onto the ground.
“So,” he said, looking between Harry and Draco, “this is for real, huh?”
“Yeah,” said Harry, a half-smile pulling the corner of his lips. George nodded slowly.
“Crazy. How long?”
“The thirteenth was three months,” said Harry. Draco smiled to himself and squeezed Harry’s hand. Harry laughed quietly beside him.
George whistled. “Shit. You’re really serious.”
“George!” Mrs. Weasley yelled. Carina giggled.
“Sorry, mum! I mean, wow, you guys are really serious!”
Harry nodded as Mrs. Weasley began shrieking that dinner was ready. Mr. Weasley, Ginny, and Bill came in from the other room and sat down at the table while Carina took a spot next to Draco.
“What about Percy?” George asked as Mrs. Weasley flicked her wand and the food sorted itself onto the table.
“He’ll be home any moment. Go ahead and start eating.”
Draco was in the middle of putting food on Carina’s plate when Harry leaned over and whispered in his ear, “How are you doing?”
“Fine,” he chuckled, trying not to shiver from the feeling of Harry’s breath on his neck. “But I appreciate your concern.” He turned to give Harry a quick kiss on the lips.
“Oh, will you look at those manners!” Mrs. Weasley said, beaming at Carina.
“That’s right,” said Draco, placing a napkin on his daughter’s lap. “And what do we say to Mrs. Weasley?”
“Thank you!” she practically yelled.
“You’re very welcome, my dear! Now, if only you lot could learn some manners.”
“Fat chance,” George laughed, a bit of food flying from his mouth. Carina laughed until Draco raised an eyebrow at her, at which point she covered her mouth with a hand to stifle it, though a smile was still visible underneath.
Link to Chapter Fifteen
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.
Author's Note: I'm terribly sorry about the amount of fluff in the beginning. The song is "Come, Josephine, in my Flying Machine" by Maire Brennan. Well, the one from Titanic is, at least. And that's the one I was listening to, obviously, because I like to torture myself with that movie every once in a while.
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 Fourteen
“…Is Dumbledore omniscient?”
Draco scowled at Harry as he began to laugh raucously, rolling around the floor of his own room similarly to the way he’d done when Draco’s hair had been dyed red.
“Draco,” he gasped, clutching at his stomach with one hand and pounding the floor with the other. “I… Dumbledore…”
This continued for another few minutes. Draco sat back in his chair and crossed his legs, waiting for his boyfriend to stop acting like a three-year-old. When Harry finally managed to catch his breath he sat up on his legs and looked at Draco, a crazy smile playing on his face.
“God, I just pictured Dumbledore sitting up in the sky on a cloud, just hangin’ out, you know, watching everyone down on Earth. Merlin.”
“I’m glad you found that so funny,” Draco drawled.
Harry raised a brow. “You weren’t serious…”
Draco huffed. “When I had that meeting with McGonagall the other day she kept saying things, like … like she knew what was going on everywhere in the school. She’d known you were outside with Carina showing her how to fly a broom.”
Harry bit his lip, clearly holding back more laughter.
“I don’t know if you’d noticed, Draco, but there are these holes in the walls called windows-”
“You won’t finish that sentence if you plan on living to see Christmas,” said Draco, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Harry smirked.
“Okay, okay. McGonagall knows shit she shouldn’t. So what? Dumbledore was always like that. He’s dead, though. What does this have to do with him?”
Draco dropped his arms and looked around, almost as though said former headmaster might be watching.
“When I was leaving the office I looked at his portrait and I swear I saw him smirk.”
“That’s because Dumbledore’s always up to something, even when he’s completely powerless inside of a portrait.” He stopped and seemed to consider this. Then he laughed. “In fact, he probably does have something to do with it. Merlin knows I wouldn’t be surprised if he found a way to jump out of the frame and walk around Hogwarts.”
Now it was Draco’s turn to laugh, though he didn’t reduce himself to graceless fits of barbaric laughter.
“What does it matter, anyway?” Harry asked, looking genuinely interested now. He crossed his legs and leaned back on his arms, looking much too attractive, in Draco’s opinion, to be allowed.
“I don’t know. I suppose it doesn’t.”
Harry smiled softly and stood up, coming over to Draco’s chair and sitting directly in his lap.
“Potter, you barbarian! Get off of me!”
Harry laughed and stood up, but he brought Draco up with him. He sat down, then, in the chair and pulled Draco into his own lap, nuzzling his neck and wrapping his much larger arms around Draco’s smaller frame.
Draco’s would-be furious tirade was cut off sharply when he felt Harry’s breath on his neck. That wasn’t the startling part, though. It was the soft sound of Harry’s voice in his ear. He was singing. It was breathy and almost inaudible, but Draco could hear it.
“Come, Josephine, in my flying machine... And it's up she goes, up she goes...”
Draco swallowed thickly and let his gaze fall on nothing in particular, so intent on focusing on Harry’s voice was he. Goose bumps were rapidly spreading over his flesh as Harry continued to sing against his ear. Draco had no idea what the song was, but it sounded so achingly romantic that he swore tears would soon start pooling behind his eyes.
“Harry…” he whispered, but Harry ignored him, continuing instead to sing.
“Up, up, a little bit higher… Oh, my, the moon is on fire…”
Harry’s arms wound more tightly around Draco’s waist, pulling them flush against each other. Draco couldn’t see Harry, but he could have sworn the other boy was in some kind of trance.
He turned his head so he could face Harry and finally he stopped singing and looked up at Draco. Indeed, he looked a bit confused for a moment.
“What was that?” Draco whispered. Harry smiled softly. He didn't say anything, though-instead he leaned in hesitantly and kissed Draco, pouring so much emotion into the kiss that for a moment Draco lost himself entirely.
“I love you,” Harry whispered against his lips. Draco tensed. He was hyperaware of the fact that this was the third time Harry had said that to him and he had yet to say it back. He bit his lip, afraid this might be the time Harry would call him out on it. To his immense relief, however, Harry merely chuckled and kissed him again before nuzzling his neck once more. Draco ran his hands through Harry’s hair-closed his eyes and rested his head on top of Harry’s.
He didn’t know yet how he felt about the word “love,” but he couldn’t pretend his stomach wasn’t beginning to ache with something dangerously close to it.
* * *
Draco walked with Carina and Hermione to Ancient Runes, a class which they did not share with Harry or Ron. Hermione was nattering on about a test they had coming up, one which she did not feel she was adequately prepared for.
“Will you stop worrying?” Draco laughed. Hermione glared at him as they stopped outside the classroom, ignoring the looks from their classmates that still hadn’t ceased. Yesterday had been Harry and Draco’s two-month anniversary, and yet the rest of Hogwarts continued to act as though this was a recent development.
“If I fail this test, Draco, how can I expect to pass my-!”
“You won’t fail!” Draco grabbed Hermione’s bundle of notes and held them high up so she couldn’t reach, though she certainly tried. Carina stood next to Hermione giggling at the immature display.
“Draco! What are you doing! Give those back!”
“Let’s see,” he said, rifling through the thick stack of parchment above his head. “This is, what, six feet worth of notes?” He looked down at Carina and winked. “Think Hermione’ll pass the test?”
The little girl nodded fervently with her thumb in her mouth and Hermione smiled grudgingly. “Don’t worry, Hermany, you will be great!” She grabbed Hermione’s hand and re-situated her thumb, attempting to smile around the digit. Hermione chuckled and rolled her eyes.
“See? And Malfoys are never wrong.”
“Oh, please,” Hermione mumbled just as the door to the classroom opened and the class began filing inside. She turned to Draco. “You’d better hope that’s true.”
“Or what?” Draco teased.
“Or I’ll monopolize your boyfriend over break.”
Draco’s mouth fell open as she turned to walk into the room, Carina following behind her. “You're an evil woman, Granger!” he hissed.
* * *
Draco’s stomach was doing incredible backflips as he boarded the train ahead of the Gryffindor trio. He was forcibly reminded of the beginning of the year when he’d discreetly boarded with Carina, praying no one would notice them. He didn’t particularly care anymore, but that didn’t mean the stares didn't make him uncomfortable. They did. He studiously ignored them, though, focusing instead on finding an empty compartment. When he did, he opened the door and ushered Carina inside ahead of him. Harry came up behind him and took hold of the door.
“What are you doing?” Draco asked, turning to face Harry. Harry gave him a sideways smile that caused butterflies to start whirring around in his stomach.
“Holding the door for you.”
Draco blushed furiously and was about to argue when Ron said loudly, “Oh, for crying out loud, can we save your romantics for later?”
“You’ll shut your mouth and hold the door for me if you know what’s good for you, Ronald Weasley.”
Ron huffed and held the door for Hermione once Harry and Draco had gone inside, the former laughing at his best friend.
Carina took up space on Harry’s lap, leaning her head against his chest and going immediately to sleep. Emilie and Crookshanks slept peacefully side-by-side next to Ron.
* * *
Harry ran his fingers through Carina’s hair, smiling softly down at her sleeping form. He looked up, however, when he felt Draco lay his head on Harry’s shoulder and make a content little sigh. His eyes were closed and his pale lashes just brushed his cheekbones. He’d threaded his fingers with Harry’s on the hand that was resting on the seat, the other still preoccupied with Carina.
Harry felt a warm, bubbling sensation in his stomach as he looked at Draco, and he felt his throat tighten. For what felt like the hundredth time in the past few days he asked himself two things: first, how had he fallen so in love with someone so quickly? Secondly, and most curiously, how had he never before noticed how beautiful Draco was? He wasn’t perfect by any means; he was still a bit gaunt due to the War, his personality certainly had its drawbacks, he had a tiny scar just under his left eye that he’d once complained about to Harry, but these things only made him better in Harry’s eyes.
He gently released Draco’s hand in favor of wrapping it around his small waist and pulling him closer. Draco smiled with his eyes still shut and leaned into the embrace.
When Harry looked up again Ron and Hermione were both staring at them, Hermione biting her lip to hide a very large smile and Ron smirking, an eyebrow raised.
Hermione pointed silently at Draco and Carina and then said silently, “They look so alike.” Harry’s smile grew and he nodded. She pointed at Draco again and mouthed, “Question” and “later.”
Harry’s eyebrows dipped but he nodded, wondering what she could have to ask him about Draco. He looked to Ron but he simply shrugged, apparently having no more idea as to what was going on inside Hermione’s mind than Harry did.
A few hours passed and Carina had moved to Ron’s lap at some point and amused herself by spewing out arbitrary letters and asking what they spelled. Harry had taken this opportunity to move so he was sitting with his back against the window, Draco lying next to him against the back of the seat with his head on Harry’s chest. He’d hardly woken when Harry had done this, only mumbling something sleepily which Harry had found absolutely adorable. Ron had found it rather funny.
Hermione currently had her nose buried in a book, Ron was now amusing Carina by reading her a story out of Hermione’s copy of Beedle the Bard, and Harry was idly stroking Draco’s arm, staring out into the corridor and watching students periodically pass by.
“What would you want from the Fountain?” Carina asked Ron after he’d finished The Fountain of Fair Fortune.
“Hmm,” he mused, pursing his lips in mock concentration. “I think I’d like a wicked new pair of trainers!”
“Very humble,” Hermione laughed.
“No, you have to want something nice!” Carina said, jabbing the book with a finger. “Like for no one to be mean to anyone!”
“Is that what you’d wish for?” Ron asked, smiling adoringly down at the little girl in his lap. Carina seemed to think about this for a moment before turning to look at Harry and her father, cuddled up together on the opposite seat. Harry was still staring blankly out into the corridor.
“No,” she said, starting to smile. “I would wish for Harry to always love me and Papa forever and ever so Papa will be happy all the time!”
At the mention of his name Harry looked over, and by the end of Carina’s sentence he was smiling at her.
“I already promised, didn’t I?” he said softly. Carina blushed and nodded. She leaned up in Ron’s lap then and hugged him around his neck. Ron chuckled and hugged her back.
“And I would wish for you and Hermany to be my friends forever, too!”
“Think Draco was this cute when he was three?” Hermione asked, smirking.
“Not if his eleven-year-old self is anything to go by,” Ron mumbled. Hermione hit him in the arm but Harry saw she was smiling.
“You knew Papa when he was little?!” Carina gasped.
Harry, Hermione, and Ron looked at each other, all wondering the same thing: what in the world did they tell her? Of course they’d known him, but their memories of him were nothing but bad ones.
“Er-a little bit,” Hermione said carefully. Carina’s eyes went wide with curiosity and excitement. “But we weren’t friends with him, exactly.”
Carina looked crestfallen. “Why not?”
“We just didn’t know him very well.” Hermione looked extremely uncomfortable. Harry wished he could come up with a story quickly, something that would mollify Carina without being a total lie.
“We were in a different House than him,” Ron cut in, and both and Harry and Hermione looked at him sharply, as though waiting for him to say something he shouldn’t. “We just didn’t see him very much. He had his own friends, right?”
Hermione nodded fervently, planting a smile back on her face and looking at Carina.
“Exactly. He had friends in his own House and back then, before-er-well, back when we were little people stuck with their own Houses a bit more.”
“What’s a House?” Carina asked quietly, though she looked more satisfied than before.
“Oh… Well, you know how your dad wears a green tie? And he has that little green patch with a snake on his robes?” Carina looked over to her father and nodded. “And see how Harry, Ron, and I have the red and gold ties and a little lion on our patch? That’s our House. Your dad never told you about them?” Carina shook her head and eyes Ron’s patch more closely. Hermione looked to Harry, a smile forming on her lips. “He really has changed,” she said quietly. “He didn’t even tell her what Slytherin is.”
Harry looked down at Draco fondly and slipped a hand beneath one pale arm to rest on his stomach. Beneath his robes he was wearing very casual clothes today-and Harry thought it looked amazing. He loved how Draco normally dressed, sure, but seeing him in a plain, navy blue V-neck and a pair of faded denims had Harry’s mouth watering. To be completely honest, though, he thought the clothes would look even better off of Draco’s body.
“That’s why we live in different places,” Hermione continued to explain. “The Houses are just like little groups at Hogwarts.”
“You can’t be friends with people if they aren’t in your House?” Carina asked sadly.
“Oh, no, no, no, of course you can! Back when we, and your father, first came to Hogwarts people weren’t as friendly, though. Things are different now.”
“Why are they different?”
“Boy, she likes to ask questions, doesn’t she?” Ron sighed.
“I’m not sure,” Hermione said, and Harry could tell she felt bad for lying. But he knew why she was doing it: if Draco hadn’t spoken about the War to Carina, then it certainly wasn’t their place to do so. He just hoped Draco planned on doing it before Carina inevitably found out for herself in books, newspapers, magazines, etc. “But I’m glad it is.”
“Me too.” Carina rested her head against Ron’s chest and stuck her thumb in her mouth, seemingly preparing to nap again. They still had a few hours before they’d be in London.
* * *
Draco was a nervous wreck when they stepped onto Platform 9¾ . His hands were sweating and he was aware of the fact that he was holding Harry’s hand much too tightly, but he couldn’t help it. He was so sure one of the Weasleys would try to kill him. Why wouldn’t they? His father had been absolutely horrible to them and Draco himself had always given them a hard time about their hair, their house, and their money.
He was doomed.
Carina, on the other hand, had bounce in her step as she walked alongside Hermione toward the group of three gingers waiting in the station.
“Bill!” Ginny Weasley ran up to someone Draco assumed was a brother, though he looked astonishingly different than the other Weasleys. He had long hair tied into a ponytail and a-was that a fang in his ear? The most noticeable part of his appearance, though, was a myriad of scars on his face.
As he and Harry got closer Mrs. Weasley came right up to him, to his immense surprise, and placed her hands on his shoulders.
“This must be hard for you,” she said kindly. “Just know that you are entirely welcome in our home.”
“Thank you,” Draco said quietly, staring up at this woman who was the very embodiment of a mother, and suddenly the death of his own mother washed over him more intensely than it had in a long time. He felt Harry grab his hand and squeeze. Draco looked around at him and then at the ground, terrified that he might start crying right here in front of everyone. Mrs. Weasley seemed to notice because she quickly turned her attention to Carina.
“Hello!” she said brightly, and leaned over so they were face-to-face. Carina blushed and scuffed her shoe on the ground.
“Hi,” she giggled.
“Oh, aren’t you adorable!” Mrs. Weasley laughed. “What’s your name, dear?”
“Carina.”
“Beautiful. My name’s Molly.” Mrs. Weasley held out her hand and Carina shook it, still giggling. “You can call me Grandma Molly if you’d like.”
Draco gaped at her. Mrs. Weasley looked up at him and said, “If that’s alright with your father, of course.”
“Oh, I… Yes, of course,” he said hurriedly. Harry wrapped an arm around Draco’s waist this time and kissed his cheek.
“Now she has a grandma,” he whispered. Draco wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold back tears.
Mr. Weasley introduced himself as well, and as the two adults were greeting their children and Hermione Bill came over and extended a hand to Draco.
“Bill Weasley,” he said, and he was smirking. Draco became immediately suspicious.
“Draco Malfoy,” he said slowly. He felt Harry tense up next to him. He wanted to ask, but knew better. He’d have to ask later.
“It’s nice to meet you. Mum’s been gushing recently, you know, with you being her little baby Harry’s love interest and all.”
“Bill,” Harry groaned. Bill laughed, and Draco thought it sounded a little like a bark.
“Just telling the truth.” He held his hands out in defense. “You’d think she didn’t care about Ginny the way she went on about you, Harry, after she heard you two had broken up.”
“How did she find out?”
“Ginny wrote.” At Harry’s expression he hurried on, “It wasn’t anything too detailed or bad about you. Just said you two had broken up. Then mum wrote Ron and asked how you were doing and told her you were doing really well. She kept writing after that, asking who the new bird was, because she had it in her head that you must have found someone else, and I tried to make her stop because it was getting weird, really, but finally Ron told her you were seeing a bloke. Told her it wasn’t his place to say who.”
“How does one mature so much in one year?” Draco drawled. Bill and Harry both laughed.
“She found out it was you, though, when Ginny wrote saying that you and your daughter were coming.
"Speaking of, I think she’ll like the fact that she won’t be the youngest at the Christmas party.”
Draco said “What?” at the same time that Harry exclaimed “Teddy!”
“Model godfather already, Harry,” Bill teased.
“Godfather?”
“Lupin and Tonks’s baby. Lupin named me his godfather just before he died.”
“Where is he living?” Draco asked quietly.
“With his grandparents. Tonks’s mum and dad. I haven’t seen him since July! How is he?”
“I haven’t either,” Bill said. “But mum said he’s gotten big. He’s nearly one now.”
“Yeah. Wow,” Harry breathed. Harry’s face was alight with happiness and Draco suddenly found himself feeling scared again. This was Harry’s territory-Draco didn’t belong here. He didn’t know these people, had never gotten along with most of them. Would Harry forget about him? Or worse, realize he doesn’t really want Draco in his life?
As if to quell these fears Harry turned to him and said, “I can’t wait for you to meet Teddy. You’ll love him.” Then he kissed Draco, right on the lips, in front of all the Weasleys, and Draco couldn’t help smiling into the kiss like a fool. “What?” Harry laughed as he pulled back, obviously having felt Draco’s smile.
“Nothing.” Draco shook his head and pecked Harry again lightly. “Thank you for bringing me.”
“Alright, everyone ready to go?” Draco, Bill, and Harry all looked around to see Mr. Weasley waving toward the exit. Harry grabbed Draco’s hand and, with a squeeze and another smile, led the way toward unknown territory.
* * *
The Weasleys’ house was more like a bunch of different pieces of other houses stacked on top of each other. Which was why Draco couldn’t explain to himself why it felt so damn good inside. It smelled like food-different than the kitchen at the Manor, though. It smelled like Mrs. Weasley had just been cooking. And it was bright and filled with pictures of the family and just an all-around good feeling. Draco couldn’t help looking around in awe when he stepped inside.
“This is really lovely,” he heard himself saying, eyes landing on a clock that bore the faces of the whole Weasley clan and different words to describe their situations. He’d seen one like it before in some relative’s house. Next to him, Harry was grinning like an idiot.
“Oh, thank you, dear,” Mrs. Weasley said, smiling in a surprised way. “Please, make yourself at home. Harry usually stays in Ron’s room, so you can stay in there as well. Carina, how would you like to share a room with Ginny and Hermione?”
Draco’s jaw nearly hit the ground when Ginny held out her hand to Carina and said, “Come on, I’ll show you where it is.” He turned to find that Harry was in a similar state.
Carina didn’t seem to find this odd because she gladly followed Ginny up a set of stairs and out of sight.
“What just happened?” Ron asked.
“Still thick-headed, eh, Ronnie?” Bill said, but before Ron could land a punch he’d walked from the room, laughing as he did so.
“Are Percy, George, or Charlie here?” Harry asked.
Oh, good Lord, how many are there? Draco thought desperately.
“Percy and George are at work, but they’re coming for dinner tonight. Charlie hasn’t come in from Romania yet. He’ll be here on the twenty-second,” Mr. Weasley explained.
“What about Fleur?” Hermione asked. Draco had no idea who this was, but he was fairly certain it couldn’t be a Weasley because he was sure Ginny was the only girl.
“Oh, she’s at their cottage,” Mrs. Weasley said as she began bustling about the kitchen, continuing to cook. Mr. Weasley left the room in the direction Bill had gone and that left Harry, Draco, Ron, and Hermione, the latter two of whom had taken a seat at the table. Harry dragged Draco over and held out a chair for him.
“My perfect gentleman,” Draco said, flashing Harry a smirk as he took a seat. Ron snorted into his glass of Pumpkin Juice and Hermione rolled her eyes.
“So why’s Bill here?” Hermione asked.
“He just wanted to come with to get you guys from the train. He’s leaving after dinner.” She turned and gave the four of them a devious smile. “I think Fleur’s pregnant,” she whispered. Hermione squealed and Ron gasped.
“Really?” Harry asked excitedly.
“They haven’t said anything, but I can spot a baby bump a mile away,” Mrs. Weasley said proudly. Draco laughed. “And besides, Bill said she’s been feeling sick in the morning.”
“Oh, how exciting!” Hermione said, sitting up straighter in her chair. “I hope it’s true!”
At that moment there was the sound of footsteps on the stairs and Carina came bounding back itno the kitchen, Ginny behind her. Ginny, however, left for the room in which Mr. Weasley and Bill now presumably sat.
“How would you like to help me cook dinner?” Mrs. Weasley asked, and Carina positively squealed with excitement. Draco watched in amusement as Carina climbed up on a stool and began stirring something Mrs. Weasley had passed to her.
“Papa?” Carina asked, spinning suddenly on the stool. Her hands were covered in some sort of dough.
“Yes?” he laughed.
“Why don’t we cook at our home?”
“The elves do it, sweetheart. Daddy doesn’t know how to cook.”
“You don’t know how to cook?” Harry asked, grinning much too widely at him.
“I grew up in a strictly magical household, Potter,” he drawled, brushing invisible dust off his shoulder. He stopped, though, and looked at Harry, mouth open as though he’d been offended.
“What?” Harry asked, looking suddenly afraid.
“You never told me about that elf!” Draco accused, pointing a finger at his boyfriend. “That elf at Carina’s party! You said you’d tell me about him!”
“Oh…” Harry said sheepishly. “That….”
“Thought I’d forget, eh, Potter? I don’t think so. Spill.”
“What elf?” Ron interrupted. “Kreacher?”
“That’s the one!” Draco mock-glared at Harry.
“What didn’t you tell him?” Hermione asked. Harry looked at his friends sharply, as though he was trying to convey a message. Hermione seemed to finally understand because her eyes went wide in recognition and then she giggled. Ron, however, remained clueless.
“Am I missing something?” Ron asked loudly.
“Don’t you remember?” Hermione said to him. Harry narrowed his eyes at her. “Sixth year? Harry had Kreacher-”
“Stalk Malfoy! Yeah!”
“Ron!”
“What?” Draco turned to Harry, biting his lips in an attempt to contain his laughter. “You did what sixth year?”
“Ron, you are such a git!”
“Oh, hush, Harry, you would have told him at some point,” Hermione laughed. Harry crossed his arms over his chest moodily.
“I’m sorry. Let me get this straight. You had your house-elf stalk me sixth year?”
“Not just one, either,” Ron said, beginning to enjoy himself. “He had Kreacher and Dobby following you around the school!”
“Why?!”
“He was obsessed with you,” Ron sighed, and Harry flushed bright red. Draco smirked at him. “Thought you were up to something-” But he trailed off, suddenly looking sheepish. This time Draco knew why. He looked to Harry.
“You knew?”
“I didn’t,” Harry said quietly. “I just suspected.”
“Suspected what?”
“I don’t know. That you were up to something.”
Draco felt like something was squeezing his stomach. Harry had known? The whole time? Had he been in the room while he’d been working on the Cabinet?
Mrs. Weasley was talking quietly to Carina while she was helping her stir something in a different bowl and Draco had the feeling she was trying to be polite and not listen in on their conversation. He grudgingly admitted that this woman had more class than he’d previously guessed.
“What did you think I was-?”
“Look, it doesn’t matter,” Harry said rather harshly. His face softened again quickly, though, and he grabbed Draco’s hand that was resting on the table. “I keep telling you that’s the past.”
“We’ll have to talk about it at some point, Harry,” Draco said quietly.
“We will,” Harry assured him, squeezing his hand gently. “In private, and not when we’ve just gotten to the Burrow.”
Their conversation was once again disrupted, this time by a swift knock on the door. A moment later it swung inward and George Weasley walked inside. The only reason Draco knew this was George was because he remembered, very vividly, seeing Fred Weasley killed outside of the Room of Requirement. He didn’t remember George not having one of his ears, but that could have been because he wasn’t really looking.
“Hullo,” he said brightly to the room at large, eyes landing only briefly on Draco. He strolled over to his mum and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
“Hello, George, darling,” she said. “This is Carina, Draco’s daughter. Carina, this is my son, George.”
“Hello,” she said shyly. George smiled and bowed deeply.
“The pleasure is all mine, madam.”
Carina giggled as he took her small hand and planted a kiss on it. He spun around, then, and grinned mischievously at his brother.
“Ickle Ronniekins,” he sung, walking slowly over to the chair where he sat. Ron bolted out of his seat and eyes George warily.
“This is no way to greet your brother!” Ron yelled, clearly assuming the worst.
“But, little brother, I only wanted to give you a hug.”
Ron glared at him and continued to circle the table as George followed predatorily.
“Oh, George, stop it,” Mrs. Weasley said calmly, as though she’d said it many, many times before in the past. Draco didn’t doubt that she had. He was surprised when George smiled and finally sat down at the table next to Hermione, taking Ron’s seat.
“Hey!” Ron yelled indignantly.
“Shouldn’ta gotten up,” George said with a shrug.
“You were gonna … do something to me!”
“I resent that, little brother.” Before Ron could say something else George directed his attention to Harry. “Savior. How nice to see you again. How have you been?”
Harry smiled and rolled his eyes with a laugh.
“I’ve been great. How about you, George?”
George leaned back in his chair and folded his arms behind his head.
“Business is booming,” he said. Ron scoffed. “Don’t be jealous, Ronnie. Someday, if you work really hard, maybe you can be our-my official product-tester.” Draco heard the slip-up and looked down at the table, feeling himself blush. He felt horrible having just been in his presence when his brother had died. The slip-up must have affected Ron, too, because he sobered quite a bit.
“Stuff it, George,” he said with a weak smile. George sighed and let the front legs of his chair fall back onto the ground.
“So,” he said, looking between Harry and Draco, “this is for real, huh?”
“Yeah,” said Harry, a half-smile pulling the corner of his lips. George nodded slowly.
“Crazy. How long?”
“The thirteenth was three months,” said Harry. Draco smiled to himself and squeezed Harry’s hand. Harry laughed quietly beside him.
George whistled. “Shit. You’re really serious.”
“George!” Mrs. Weasley yelled. Carina giggled.
“Sorry, mum! I mean, wow, you guys are really serious!”
Harry nodded as Mrs. Weasley began shrieking that dinner was ready. Mr. Weasley, Ginny, and Bill came in from the other room and sat down at the table while Carina took a spot next to Draco.
“What about Percy?” George asked as Mrs. Weasley flicked her wand and the food sorted itself onto the table.
“He’ll be home any moment. Go ahead and start eating.”
Draco was in the middle of putting food on Carina’s plate when Harry leaned over and whispered in his ear, “How are you doing?”
“Fine,” he chuckled, trying not to shiver from the feeling of Harry’s breath on his neck. “But I appreciate your concern.” He turned to give Harry a quick kiss on the lips.
“Oh, will you look at those manners!” Mrs. Weasley said, beaming at Carina.
“That’s right,” said Draco, placing a napkin on his daughter’s lap. “And what do we say to Mrs. Weasley?”
“Thank you!” she practically yelled.
“You’re very welcome, my dear! Now, if only you lot could learn some manners.”
“Fat chance,” George laughed, a bit of food flying from his mouth. Carina laughed until Draco raised an eyebrow at her, at which point she covered her mouth with a hand to stifle it, though a smile was still visible underneath.
Link to Chapter Fifteen