Harry Potter © JK Rowling.

I just went to Orlando and I went to Harry Potter World and it was the greatest experience of my life LOL. The simulated rides were pretty well done. I met up with two online friends (crazy, I know!) and we all got a hotel and went to Disney World / Universal together. Anyway, I'm on a huge Harry Potter kick now, so I finally wrote more fanfic.

Warnings: OOC as hell for the sake of the plot

1.

Twenty-four year old Harry Potter slips out of his front door, locking it behind him. He yawns as he exits his apartment building, greeting the shy London sun with squinty eyes.

He lives in the muggle world, but he is an auror and spends most working days in the wizarding world. While he enjoys his career, he finds solace in being able to return to a simpler life during his off time. There is still something pleasantly familiar and safe about the muggle world – especially after Voldemort's defeat. People often ask him why he chose to become an auror. Truthfully, he doesn't quite know the answer. It's a question he often asks himself as well. He chalks it up to his infamous hero-complex and his bad habit of putting everyone else's needs above his own. He just wants to help people.

He's still single. Things with Ginny went down the drain when his job began to consume his life. Harry realized it just wasn't meant to be. If it was, he would have tried a little harder.

They still remain civil, but their time as friends is long over. Fortunately, his relationship with Ron and Hermione is still strong. The two are now married. Ron left his job as an auror and is now co-manager of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes alongside George. Hermione, on the other hand, works for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. It's a job that suits her perfectly, in Harry's opinion.

Before work, Harry heads to a little café he frequents to get his early morning cup of coffee. He orders his usual and then, as he is about to leave, he spots someone from the corner of his eye sitting at a nearby table. He does a double take, almost unable to believe what he's seeing.

Draco Malfoy? In a muggle coffee shop? With a child?

Harry takes a closer look, trying not to make it look obvious. The man is dressed rather casually – wearing a simple knit sweater and slacks, which is different than the suits Draco would wear when they were younger. He has dull grey eyes, fair skin and white-blond hair that is no longer slicked back with gel. His features are just as sharp, but there is something softer about his expression. Harry can recall the angry scowl he often wore when they were younger – the look of spite he always had on and that air of utter superiority. Harry hated that about him, but he knows things began to change when they were sixteen. Draco lost his elitist demeanour and it was replaced with that of a scared child, because that is what Draco was transformed into when Voldemort gave him the dark mark. Suddenly, something that once looked so tantalizing became too much for him to handle. His first task was to kill the school's headmaster. After many weak attempts, it was something he found that he couldn't do.

"Draco, you're not a killer."

"How do you know? You don't know what I'm capable of! You don't know what I've done!"

But of course, Dumbledore did know. He always knew… but in Draco's perspective, he had no choice. It was kill or be killed and he cracked under the pressure. Harry knows that. He also knows that Draco is remorseful for many of his past wrongdoings.

It couldn't possibly be anyone else.

Harry takes a few steps closer, coffee-cup in hand. He sees Draco lean down, speaking with the child, who is messily eating a muffin.

"Malfoy?" is the first thing that leaves his mouth.

The blond looks up at Harry, visibly startled. "P-Potter!" he stutters. "What are you doing here?" When the words come out, he can't help but find the question to be stupid.

"I could ask you the same thing," Harry responds. "I live here."

"Well, so do we," Draco explains vaguely, gesturing to the child – who looks around seven or eight years old. "I have a home here."

That surprises Harry for more than a few reasons. Draco, who once thought so poorly of muggles, is now living amongst them. "How are you paying for it?"

"I converted my galleons into pounds at Gringotts," the blond says, sounding short-tempered. "I'm not an idiot, Potter."

Harry holds his hands up, surrendering. "Okay, okay." With that, he decides not to linger. "Nice see you." The words hold little sincerity and he turns away.

Draco watches silently before turning to his curious son, giving him an expectant look.

"Dad, was that –?" Scorpius asks his father once the brunet man has left the shop.

"Harry Potter," Draco answers, confirming what his son is hopefully guessing.

Scorpius' eyes light up, having heard countless stories of the infamous hero and how he saved the wizarding world. "You know Harry Potter?"

"Yeah," Draco says vaguely, not wanting to say any more than that.

2.

A week later, Harry sees Draco again. After a slow day at work, he returns to London, stopping at the little coffee shop near his house. Inside, Draco is once again seated with the child from before.

After ordering his coffee, he once again makes his way towards the blond. "Funny," he starts. "We seem to keep running into one another."

"Yes, funny," Draco echoes, though not as amused as the other man seems to be. "We come here a lot lately."

"So do I."

Scorpius stares at Harry, starry-eyed. It causes an unpleasant feeling in Draco's chest, but he tries to ignore it for the sake of his child.

Draco has learnt not to be bitter. He wants his son to be better than him. He wants his life to be full of pleasant things and pleasant people and he won't get that by being cruel and cold. So, Draco is humbled. That is what having a child did to him. It has humbled him, causing him to take a long and hard look at his life. With that, he realized things needed changing and the changes would need to come sooner rather than later.

"Harry," he starts calmly, "this is my son, Scorpius." He puts a hand on the boy's shoulders as he gets the introductions out of the way

The brunet finds it odd to hear Draco call him by his first name. Nonetheless, he smiles at the child and holds out his hand "Nice to meet you."

Scorpius smiles wide at the auror, taking his hand.

"Firm shake," Harry compliments.

"I've read about you!" Scorpius exclaims. "You're my hero! I have SO many questions –"

"Scorpius, I'm sure Harry is rather busy," Draco cuts in.

Harry chuckles at that. "Not today. It's an early day in the office."

"And I'm sure you want to spend it doing something productive," Draco attempts to reason.

Harry shrugs his shoulders. "I've got nothing else on the plate. I have time to chat."

Of course Saint Potter has to make time for his fans. Draco wishes he wouldn't, but Scorpius looks pleased, much to Draco's dismay. Still, he doesn't want to stand in the way.

"Lovely," Draco says, trying not to sound forced. "How about you come to our place for tea, then?"

"It's a date," Harry replies.

So, they make their way out. Draco holds his son's hand as they walk through the busy London streets. The walk isn't long and soon they come to a string of large and lovely houses. Of course, Draco's home is beautiful. It's certainly smaller than the Malfoy Manor, but it's just as nice.

"Cool place," Harry compliments as they step in. The inside as just as grand as the outside.

"Thank you," Draco responds before turning to his son. "Scorpius, why don't you run into the living room. We'll follow in a moment."

The boy nods and runs off. Once he's out of ear-shot, Draco turns to Harry. "I want to talk to you before you talk to my son."

"You're being awfully nice today," Harry comments suspiciously.

Draco gives him a terse look. "For the sake of my child, I'm trying not to act like an arse," he says. "We're not children anymore. We can put our differences aside."

"You must hate that I'm his hero," Harry adds.

"I don't like it," Draco admits, "but not for the reasons you may think. I'm not holding an immature grudge against you… I just wish that I could be my son's hero. I think every father wants that."

It causes Harry to feel a twinge of sympathy. "Yeah… I understand."

"I'm trying to raise him to be a better person than I was," he admits quietly. "He knows about you and your fight with Voldemort, but he doesn't know I was a Death Eater. He doesn't know I was on the wrong side of things. I think he's still too young for it. I don't really know how I'll ever tell him that. He hasn't even seen the mark on my arm. It's faded a bit, but it's still there. I always wear long sleeves. I feel like he'd hate me if he knew. I try to keep him shielded, but… I can't do that forever. Someday, he'll find out. I need to get the words out before he gets his Hogwarts letter because I know that the other children will tell him things about me when they find out his last name. I know it's best if he hears it from me first, but the words are difficult to say."

"You're a good father," Harry says sincerely, because it appears to be true.

Draco scoffs loudly, not believing a word of it. "No, I'm not," he bites out. "I'm shit. I can't give that boy anything."

"I'm sure he won't hate you," Harry tries to empathize.

Draco closes his eyes, feeling a gust of unpleasant emotions stirring in his gut. "He's all I have," he murmurs. "So… don't tell him. I need to be the one to say it and right now I can't."

"I understand," Harry says before promising, "I won't say anything."

Draco nods his gratitude and with that, they step into the living room. Harry sits with Scorpius and Draco announces that he's going into the kitchen to put on tea.

As Draco leaves, he can hear Harry conversing with his son. They're both speaking with such ease and Scorpius sounds so enamoured. It causes Draco to feel undeniably jealous. He turns on the kettle and leans against the counter with crossed arms and what he thinks is probably a pretty sour expression. It's taking tremendous amounts of self-control for him to act so collected. Part of him is fighting the urge to act childishly immature and snarky towards Harry, but he's holding it in. He's gotten good at holding things in.

When the tea is finished steeping, he gets a tray and takes it into the living room. He sets it on the table and pours cups, silently listening as Scorpius and Harry continue to converse like he isn't even in the room.

Draco listens silently for a few minutes before simply excusing himself. He moves into the reading room and opens up a book, but finds himself unable to concentrate on the words on each page. Nonetheless, he doesn't move. He closes the book and simply sits with himself, silently and contemplatively.

After an hour goes by, it is nearing 9PM. Draco decides to sit up and head back downstairs. He can still hear the faint sounds of conversation coming from the living room. He knows he's being childish, but he can't help it. Besides, he knows he's always been a little childish – especially when it comes to dealing with his emotions. Jealousy is something he struggles with.

"It's getting late, Scorpius," Draco says when he re-enters the living room. "You should head to bed."

"Awww…" Scorpius complains.

"Hey, I'll be around again," Harry promises.

With that, the child nods and stands, heading upstairs.

"He's chatty," Harry takes note.

"Yes," Draco agrees. "He always has a lot to say."

"Nice kid," Harry adds.

"Thank you," Draco says somewhat offhandedly. "You were great with him."

"I like kids," Harry responds simply.

"It probably helps that he's nothing like I was as a child," Draco comments.

Harry smiles a small smile, but decides not to reply. He doesn't want to stir the pot.

"I'm going to check to make sure he's actually in bed," Draco says, turning away.

Harry nods his head, watching as the blond man leaves the room. Harry can't help but think about what a strange day it has been. He spent it with Malfoys and he didn't even mind it.

When Draco returns, Harry can't help but ask the question that's been on his mind for much of the evening. "Where's his mum?"

"She died," Draco reveals unceremoniously, refilling empty tea cups before sitting next to the brunet.

"What?" Harry chokes out, taken aback at the blatant apathy in the blond's voice.

"She's dead," Draco reiterates slowly.

"I'm sorry," the brunet empathizes with sincerity.

Draco shrugs a careless shoulder and says, "It's fine. He doesn't remember it."

Draco always had a talent when it came to compartmentalising his emotions, even Harry knows that. He's sure that that hasn't changed much since their school days and the apathy isn't exactly surprising.

"How'd it happen?" Harry pries, unsure if Draco will bother to answer.

"She just got sick," Draco says simply. "There wasn't anything to be done. No magic or muggle science could help. I looked, though. When magic was out of the question, I started reading about muggle science… but none of that helped, either. Stupid of me. Desperate, too."

Harry frowns. "I'm sorry."

Silence.

"So, uh," Harry starts. "What does your son's name mean?"

"It's a constellation," Draco says. "Like my name."

Harry nods his head. "I didn't know that."

"Congratulations, then, you learned something new today," Draco says, sounding tart and sarcastic.

Harry rolls his eyes, but brushes it off. They're being so civil he doesn't want to start a fight over something so minor.

"It was my wife's idea," Draco adds. "It was a nice idea."

"Yeah," Harry agrees. "It was."

More silence.

"So, do you work?" Harry asks.

Draco shakes his head. "Since I'm an heir, I inherited wealth and had no need to work," he says. "So, I got married after my schooling was complete. It's a good thing, I believe. Now I can raise my son the way I want to raise him."

"I see," Harry murmurs, following along silently.

"I bought a home here after my wife died," he confesses. "Things got difficult to manage and I felt like I needed a break from people. At first, I thought it would be like a vacation home… but then I found myself not wanting to leave."

"You must have really loved her," Harry comments.

"Not particularly," the blond mutters. "Our marriage was just in the name of business and status. I was very fond of her, but I don't think you could call it love… or perhaps it just wasn't the right kind of love. My parents pushed it, however, and who was I to refuse?"

Harry wrinkles his nose, not liking the sound of marriages arranged against the will of those participating. "Why did they push?" he asks.

"Because that's how it is in families such as mine," Draco explains dully. "You need to marry someone whose status rivals yours. It's good for public image and the family's honour. I know I shamed my parents many times in the past and I suppose I simply felt like I had to make things up to them."

"That's a stupid reason to marry someone," Harry says before he can help himself.

Draco gives him a sharp look. "You say that because you don't understand, Potter. You're not a pure-blood."

"So?" Harry retorts carelessly. "Pure-blood, half-blood… muggle-born. It's all the same. You're not more or less because of what your blood status is."

"I know," Draco replies.

The words surprise Harry. "Do you?"

"Yes," the blond says tersely, "and I've made sure to instil that into my son's head. I don't want him to be like me. That's the last thing I want. I made things hard for myself. I don't want things to be hard for him."

"Yeah," Harry mutters. "Things got particularly rough for you in year six."

"Quite," Draco agrees.

"You got really thin," Harry recalls. "You weren't as much of a prat. You always looked tired and anxious."

"I was," Draco admits. "I was disenchanted. I was beginning to realize that I didn't want to be wrapped up in any of it, but it was far too late to back out. I knew I'd be killed if I did… or my parents. I didn't want that."

"You changed a lot that year," Harry notes. "I feel like I sensed it and I kept telling Ron and Hermione I thought you were a Death Eater and they just laughed it off."

"Well, you were correct," Draco states flatly.

"I think about that year a lot," the brunet continues solemnly. "Mostly I just think about you, though. I feel like… I should have handled certain things differently."

Draco shrugs it off, not wanting the conversation to head down that road – though he knows it's too late. Harry wants to get this off his back and he isn't about to stop here.

"You were crying and I should have… approached you in a gentler way."

Draco scoffs before denying, "I wasn't crying."

"Yes, you were," Harry insists knowingly.

"It doesn't matter," Draco whispers. "It doesn't matter how you approached me, I still would have raised my wand. I was ashamed of myself. I was angry at myself. I was scared and trapped. I didn't want Saint Potter to be the one to find me in a moment of vulnerability. So, I lashed out."

"I could have killed you," Harry mutters. "I used a spell on you when I had no idea what it would even do."

"Stupid idea," Draco says with a little smile. "Physically, I think that was the worst pain I've ever experienced."

"It was a twisted, sick spell," Harry says remorsefully. "I'm sorry"

The memory is still clear as day, though it happened nearly ten years ago.

Draco lets out a sigh. "I probably deserved it. Besides, you weren't consciously trying to kill me."

"You're being awfully calm about this," Harry mentions.

"I'm not a little brat anymore," Draco reasons. "I'm a father, after all. I need to prioritize and this just isn't that important anymore. I'm not one for rivalries – especially not the schoolyard kind. When you have a child, your entire life becomes your child. Everything you do is for them. So, I can't be immature anymore. I grew up."

Harry nods his head, though it isn't something he understands because he doesn't have any children. Someday, perhaps, but not now.

"He won't be in Slytherin," Draco says knowingly.

"Why?" Harry asks. "Not all Slytherins are shit."

"Most of us were… Besides, he isn't cunning, cold, cruel or shrewd." Draco pauses and then adds, "I'm betting on Gryffindor or perhaps Ravenclaw… He does love to read and he's awfully smart. God, my wife would have hated that."

Harry chuckles at that.

"I almost prefer it, though," Draco confesses. "I don't want the stigma to drag him down. He does care about people and he cares about how he is perceived. He wouldn't want to be hated just for his house."

Harry nods his head along to what the blond is saying. "So… why did you leave the room earlier?"

"I thought that was obvious," Draco points out. "Or do you just want me to say it out loud?"

"I just want you to say it out loud," Harry admits.

"Well, I won't," Draco retorts.

"I'm not going to steal him away," Harry reasons.

"I'm aware of that, Potter," the blond bites out, not wanting to have this conversation.

"Then why did you leave the room, Draco?" Harry responds, forcing a friendly tone.

"I had to make a call," Draco says simply, ignoring the use of his first name and how strange it sounds.

Harry knows it's a lie, but he doesn't call him on it. It isn't worth a fight – not after things have been sailing so smoothly tonight.

"Why did you start calling me by my first name earlier?" Harry asks.

"I thought it would sound friendlier," Draco admits. "I didn't want Scorpius to think I hated you."

"Don't you?"

"No," he reasons. "I don't think I ever hated you. That's why I couldn't turn you in to the Dark Lord. I was just bitter and spiteful and a spoilt brat. I didn't like that you rejected me in our first year."

Harry smiles faintly. "The sorting hat tried to put me in Slytherin. I didn't want that because I thought all Slytherins would be like you. The hat took my choice into consideration. So… I ended up in Gryffindor."

That surprises Draco. "Hm," he muses. "Imagine if you didn't make that choice. Imagine if you did end up in Slytherin."

"Things would have been an awful lot different," Harry says, finishing Draco's thought. "Maybe we would have even been friends."

Draco shakes his head. "Probably not. You rejected me and I wasn't going to get over it that quickly. I wasn't used to rejection. I think that was the first time someone rejected me and it stung. So, I made it my goal to make things difficult for you."

"Well, we can be friends now," Harry says. "It'll be better this way – especially if we'll be seeing each other around every so often. Don't you think?"

"I suppose," Draco murmurs. "Scorpius would like that."

3.

Their meetings become a regular thing. So does tea at the Malfoy residence. Draco still feels conflicted, but he's refusing to act on it. So, instead, he smiles and talks to Harry like they're friends. Harry said they could be, but it all still feels foreign and strange to Draco. Nonetheless, he is no longer fighting it.

"Imagine if Granger and Weasley could see us now, being so friendly towards one another," Draco says lightly.

Harry chuckles at that. "I think they'd find it hard to believe."

When Scorpius goes to sleep, Harry always lingers and together they finish their tea. Sometimes they talk, sometimes it's silent. Either way, Harry doesn't find it uncomfortable. It feels almost natural and Harry wonders how it's even possible. Draco wonders the same.

"Can I ask you something?" Draco starts suddenly.

Harry glances over at the blond. "Yeah, sure."

"I'm sure you've heard rumours about me when we were still at Hogwarts," he mentions. "What were they?"

"I try not to put stock into that kind of thing," Harry admits to him, not denying that he's heard countless stories.

"What did you hear?" Draco pries further. He is frowning and looks displeased.

"Well, I don't know," Harry starts tentatively. "People just used to say you slept around a lot… like, with guys. Draco Malfoy: the Slytherin Slut."

"How cute." Draco rolls his eyes at that. "And that's it? That's all you've heard?"

"Well, someone once told me you were Voldemort's sex slave," Harry says with a laugh, "But I knew that was a lie."

Draco's mouth drops open and makes a face of utter revulsion. "Oh, now that's disgusting… A definite lie."

Harry can't help but laugh even harder at the less than graceful reaction in the blond. "People really buy into that kind of shit, but I think that rumour was hard for even the most gullible bunch to believe."

Draco looks ill at the notion. "Good."

"So, were any of the other stories true?" Harry pries.

"Yes," Draco admits shamelessly. "I did sleep around with boys my age. I think that's why I couldn't love my wife."

Harry lets out a long nod.

"Maybe it's another reason as to why I was so vile," Draco adds contemplatively.

"That's upsetting," Harry says. "I'm sorry you felt that way."

Draco muses. "Hm. Do you find it strange?"

"No," Harry promises. "I try not to judge people."

"Of course," Draco mutters. "Saint Potter."

Harry smiles a small smile.

"I lied," Draco says offhandedly.

"About what?" Harry asks, raising an eyebrow at the blond.

"I didn't get married because of status," he starts. "I got married because I got a girl pregnant at sixteen. So, I wasn't given a choice. People knew and my parents said the proper thing to do would be to marry her. So, I didn't put up a fuss. We got married and my dad kept any news of it out of the papers."

"Who was it?" the brunet pries.

Draco lets out a sigh. "Pansy Parkinson. In my sixth year, she tried to comfort me because things were getting to be too much for me. We ended up sleeping together and… that's when she got pregnant. I had no idea. She left Hogwarts for her safety and gave birth without me even knowing. Then after Voldemort was defeated, she arrived at the manor with a baby and said he was mine."

Harry nods his head, recalling how completely enamoured the girl was with Draco back in their school days. "And… she died?"

Draco lets out a shuddery sigh, rubbing a hand down his weary expression. "She just… withered away. All I could do was watch it happen."

He sounds defeated and Harry can't help but find it sad to see how much things have changed. It almost makes him miss the fiery side of Draco. Almost.

"I think my parents knew I didn't like women," Draco murmurs. "Maybe that is why they weren't mortified when one of Pansy showed up carrying my child in her arms. They kind of took the opportunity to force me into a life of heterosexuality."

"I'm sorry," Harry says with compassion.

The tone makes Draco want to roll his eyes, but he doesn't because he knows that, unlike many, Harry is being truly sincere. "It is what it is," the blond responds simply. "She's gone now… and I could date if I wanted to, but I don't."

"Why not?" Harry pries gently.

"It's difficult," Draco starts vaguely before continuing with, "I have a child and most people don't want to date someone who already has children… but I'm not saying that bitterly. I don't regret sleeping with Pansy because of what came out of it. I love my son."

"I know," Harry says.

He can sense it and even if he couldn't, Draco says it enough.

"Even if I didn't have a child, it would be difficult," Draco adds. "I'm not very well-liked in the wizarding community. People hate me. I was on the wrong side of things for a long time."

"You were a child," Harry points out. "You were raised to believe one thing and you ended up learning that it was all garbage. That says something. You did all you could to survive and to keep those you cared about alive."

Draco lets out a little sigh. "It doesn't mean anything now. It's too late."

"You seem lonely," Harry notices. "I'm sure if you tried to date, you would be able to find someone. I mean, you have looks and your personality is better these days."

"Wow, thanks," Draco mutters with sarcasm.

"Just… don't settle."

"I wouldn't," Draco says. "For Scorpius' sake, I would want to find someone who would treat us both right."

Harry smiles and nods. "He's a really great kid. You did a good job with him."

Draco smiles back, though faintly. "I'm trying."

4.

Draco begins to start feeling things for Harry. The feelings come suddenly, but they are undeniable.

"Damn," he says to himself.

This is the last thing he wants and the last thing he needs. He can't stand to be rejected by Harry for a second time, so he'll keep his feelings a secret. He feels like he's overwhelmed with secrets lately and they're beginning to pile up. So, he does the only thing he can think about doing – he decides to release the one that is weighing heaviest on his shoulders.

It's late right now, but he knows Scorpius is still awake – most likely with his nose in a book.

Draco gets up out of bed and moves down the hallway. He stops and hovers in the doorway to his son's bedroom before leaning against the arch. "Son," he starts. "I need to talk to you about something."

Like he assumed, Scorpius is sitting on his bed in the dim light holding a flashlight against some novel pages. He looks at his father, closing the pages and tilting his head to the side. "Is it something bad?"

"Yes," Draco confesses, stepping inside. "It's something bad."

5.

The following day, Draco feels numb. He keeps going over the conversation he had with Scorpius in his head, wondering if he should have said or done anything differently. He was honest, almost brutally so.

Harry arrives at his door around noon. Draco lets him in with a heavy, hopeless sigh. "I feel like a stupid child," he berates himself. "I didn't know who else I could talk to."

"It's okay, I'm glad you called me," Harry tells him sincerely. "Now, what happened?"

"I told him," Draco admits. "I told him everything. I told him I was a Death Eater. He didn't believe me, so I rolled up my sleeve. I told him about my part in what happened – the task I was given, the mess I made and then how I ultimately couldn't do it… then all the things that followed afterward."

Harry frowns. "What did he say?"

"He just asked me why," Draco says with a soft sigh. "It was such an innocent response, like he sincerely didn't understand why his father could have been on the wrong side of things. Then he told me it's okay because I'm not a bad person I just did a bad thing and what matters is that I learned from it."

Harry smiles slightly. "Hell, you raised a really good kid. You should be damn proud."

"I am," Draco says.

He feels undeserving. He doesn't want to say that aloud, however. It sounds too piteous. He doesn't want to look like he's searching for pity because he isn't.

"I feel like I'm getting worse at keeping my emotions in check," the blond mutters.

"It's difficult to when you're overwhelmed," Harry sympathizes.

"Scorpius has been upstairs in his bedroom all day reading," Draco continues. "I think he is trying to get used to the idea that his father was the anti-hero."

"Want me to talk to him?" Harry offers. "I can reassure him."

"Don't lie to him," Draco says. "You can talk to him, but… don't lie. Don't sugar-coat anything. Don't say anything that might make me seem like something better than what I was."

Harry gives a solid nod before wandering out of the room and heading upstairs. All of the doors are closed except for one at the end of the hallway. He slips inside the bright bedroom and spots Scorpius sitting on his bed with a book in his hands. When he hears Harry, he looks up.

"Harry!" he exclaims gladly.

Harry smiles and holds up a hand. "Hey. How are you?"

Scorpius sets the book aside and looks unsure. "My dad was a Death Eater," he says, "but you knew that, right?"

"I knew," Harry confirms softly, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"He said you saved him."

"He saved me, too," Harry says.

Scorpius makes a face, wrinkling his nose at the thought of it. "I still don't understand how it's all possible."

"He didn't want to be a Death Eater," Harry explains. "He was doing what he thought he had to do. He wanted to protect himself and his family, so he did what he was told to do. He accepted the dark mark and he joined Voldemort's brigade… but Draco isn't a killer."

"He told me he was a bad person," Scorpius mentions tentatively. "I can't imagine that."

"He wasn't bad," Harry reasons. "He was a bit of a classist jerk as a kid, but he's a good guy now… and he was never evil. Just lost and afraid."

"You didn't like him, did you?" Scorpius asks knowingly.

"Not when we were kids," Harry admits, "but I like him well now. We've become good friends."

"You come here a lot," Scorpius says.

"Life is funny," the man muses. "Sometimes people get thrown together out of the blue. I think that is kind of what happened with me and your dad."

"I like it," Scorpius chimes decidedly.

Harry smiles. "I like it, too."

6.

"Draco Malfoy?!" Ron exclaims, outraged by the news. "You've been hanging out with DRACO MALFOY?"

"Calm down, Ronald," Hermione sighs. "Harry can associate with whomever he chooses."

Ron rolls his eyes. "I know that! It's just bloody mental!"

"It is mental," Harry agrees, "but he's actually a decent person now. He has a son."

"Really?" Hermione asks, interest peaked.

"He's a great kid," Harry continues. "He's almost eight. He likes to read. He's pretty chatty. He was really excited to meet me, much to Draco's dismay –"

"You call him Draco?" Ron interrupts, incredulous.

Harry ignores Ron's outrage. "Anyway, that is kind of how we became friends."

"Well, as long as you're happy," Hermione cuts in with a smile. "If his son is seven, Draco must have been a pretty young father."

Harry nods his head. "Scorpius was born when Draco turned seventeen, I believe."

Ron snorts, crossing his arms. "I bet ol' Lucius Malfoy must've loved that."

"Well, he ended up getting pressured into marrying the girl," Harry says with a shrug.

Harry spends most of the evening talking about Draco. Hermione listens with interest, while Ron just finds it weird.

Later in the night, when Harry is gone, Hermione decides to put two and two together. "I think Harry has a crush," she says to her husband, only half-joking.

"Ha!" Ron exclaims. "Yeah, right!"

7.

On Harry's way home, he decides to check on Draco and Scorpius. He hopes things are less tense between them.

When he arrives at the front door, he knocks. A moment later, the door swings open and Draco is standing there with a wine glass in his hand.

"Hot date?" Harry asks jokingly. "Hope I'm not interrupting."

"Hardly," Draco replies, opening the door wider to allow the brunet to enter.

"So, you drink?" Harry asks, slightly surprised. He can't picture Draco taking part in anything that might lower his inhibitions. He seems to be the kind of man who likes to keep his mind sharp.

"Not heavily, but I'm known to have a glass of wine every now and again," the blond responds dryly. There's a slight flush to his cheeks, Harry notices, which causes him to believe that Draco may have had more than a couple glasses tonight.

"I see," he says. "Where's Scorpius?"

"Asleep in his room," Draco explains, jabbing a thumb upward towards the ceiling.

They move into the living room and Harry sits. Before Draco does the same, he offers, "Can I get you anything?"

Harry holds up a hand and politely declines. He isn't much of a wine drinker. He has a soft spot for butterbeer, but that's about it and he definitely doesn't like to overindulge on those too often.

Draco sits down next to him, reaching for the wine bottle on the coffee table and topping off his half-empty glass.

"Don't overdo it," Harry warns. "I've taken care of Ron after he's had a few too many and it wasn't pretty."

"Well, I'm not him," Draco retorts sharply.

He's moody tonight.

Harry holds up his hands, surrendering. "All right, all right."

Draco puts a hand over his face and lets out a sigh, then another and then another and Harry realizes that they're not sighs. He's crying. He feels a piteous twinge in his chest and he can't help but recall the last time he saw Draco cry. They were sixteen. He had snuck up on the blond in the bathroom, catching him in a moment of vulnerability and immediately throwing an accusation at him instead of trying to be understanding. Then he used that spell – that damn spell. That time, he was the reason Draco was crying. They were tears of pain as lacerations appeared on his body, soaking through his clothing. He still feels immense amounts of guilt. He can't help but wonder if there are scars on the man's chest.

"Why are you crying?" Harry asks, unsure what else to say.

"I'm not," Draco insists sharply.

Harry doesn't push it. He puts an awkward palm on the other man's shoulder, giving it a few pats.

It's quiet, neither knowing what to say. This goes on for a good hour until Draco forcibly pulls himself together.

"You good?" Harry asks him.

"I only cried because I drank too much," Draco insists, finally turning to look at the brunet.

"Okay, if you say so," he responds, not believing it for a second. There was a lot more to his tears than he's letting on.

"Don't be condescending," Draco warns. "I don't appreciate it."

"Then stop being facetious," the brunet says.

"Fine," Draco bites out. "I was upset, so I got drunk. Happy?"

"Ecstatic."

Draco lets out a sigh, softening slightly. "I cry often," he confesses.

"Not surprising," Harry admits. "I think you're probably a bit sensitive."

Draco recoils. "Don't say it like that. I'm not sensitive."

"It's not a bad thing," Harry reasons, maintaining eye contact with ease.

Draco sneers; feeling self-conscious under the brunet's seemingly critical gaze. "Stop looking at me. I probably look like a drowned rat."

"You look perfectly fine," Harry insists.

Draco has always been attractive. As much as Harry used to detest him, it was something he couldn't help but notice. Not much has changed since their school days apart from the way he wears his hair. It's the same cut, but he doesn't bother to style it. He just lets it fall freely. Harry can't help but think it adds to his tired demeanour.

Draco scoffs, rolling his eyes. "You shouldn't have come over tonight. I hate people seeing me like this. I'm in a sore state."

"I don't mind," Harry tells him, "but if you want me to go, I'll go. Just say the word."

Draco glances away for a moment. "It's fine. You can stay. You've already seen the worst of me, so I suppose there's nothing left for me to hide."

"Hey, I'm not judging," Harry promises.

Draco lets out a sigh. "How do you stay so calm and collected? I used to be good at it, but now I'm not."

"I like to think I have my life together," Harry admits. "It took a while and I've been through a lot, but I'm content with where I am now."

"Are you lonely?" Draco asks.

"Are you?" Harry retorts.

"Yes," the blond admits for the first time in his life. "I know I have my son… but I think most people want more. It sounds selfish when I say it aloud, though, so I try not to."

"It's only natural," Harry reassures.

"Why didn't you get married?" Draco asks. "Weren't you dating the Weasley girl?"

"I was neglectful," Harry admits. "Things kind of fell apart between us and when I realized I didn't care enough to fix it; I knew we weren't really meant to be. I just let my work consume most of my life."

"Surprising," Draco murmurs.

Harry chuckles. "I swear, these days most of my downtime is spent with you and your son."

"You must like us a bit, then, hm?" Draco says lightly.

Harry smiles. "Yeah, a bit."

Well, perhaps a lot more than a bit.

8.

As time passes, Harry and Draco become even closer. Things feel like they're progressing at a quick, but natural speed. For Draco, it becomes difficult because his feelings grow more and more intense every day. Part of him wants to push the brunet away, but for the sake of Scorpius, he knows he can't. Scorpius is so fond of Harry and he wouldn't understand why a permanent part of their lives suddenly disappeared.

Things are better between the father and son. All they needed was a little bit of time. Time fixes many things as long as the required effort is also put forth.

"Is Harry coming over again today?" Scorpius asks at the dinner table.

"I'm not sure," Draco says.

"You always seem happier when he's around."

Draco forces back a scoff and simply says, "Oh, do I?"

"You laugh and smile a lot now," Scorpius says. "I know I make you laugh and smile, but no one else did before Harry. Now you laugh and smile even more. You like him a lot."

"Well, everyone likes him. He's a pretty likeable person."

But perhaps they both know that it's a little bit more than that. Children aren't as naïve as people like to think they are.

9.

It's late now. Scorpius is sleeping and Harry and Draco are conversing in the living room.

"Pansy would die if she could see us being so friendly," Draco admits with a little laugh, finding humour in the picture it paints in his head.

"Yeah, she really hated me," Harry snorts.

Draco nods his head. "I think she felt like she had to. Besides, I didn't exactly help the situation. I talked poorly about you quite a lot… almost obsessively."

Draco stands up, taking the tea tray into the kitchen when they are finished drinking. Harry prefers this more than seeing Draco drunk and distraught. It was such a completely foreign idea; he still has a hard time admitting it actually happened.

Harry stands up and follows Draco into the kitchen. Harry caught up in height for the most part, but Draco still has a couple inches over the brunet. Harry has more muscle definition, however. Draco has always been slim.

Draco sets the tray on the kitchen counter and then turns around.

"Why do you always stay?" Draco asks. "I mean, of course I don't mind it… but why do you do it?"

Harry pauses for a moment before saying, "Because we're both lonely and we could both use the company."

Draco nods his head slowly. "I suppose so."

Harry steps forward so he's standing in front of Draco, who is leaning against the counter. "Should I go?"

"You can stay…" Draco says quietly.

"Do you want me to?"

Draco presses his lips together. To answer Harry's question would feel like a confession of sorts and he isn't sure that he's ready to make his feelings known. All he knows is that this isn't the way most men behave with one another – that much is clear.

"Yes," he admits softly and Harry stares at him for a while – just long enough for Draco to feel self-conscious and hyper-aware. Then he leans forward slowly. When Draco doesn't push him away, he closes the gap between their faces in the form of a chaste kiss. When he pulls back, Draco has his eyes closed for a moment. When he opens them, he simply asks, "Why?"

"I don't know," Harry admits. "I just felt like I should."

Draco frowns. It's not the answer he was anticipating. "Oh." A pause. "Do it again, then."

This time, Harry is the one to ask, "Why?"

"To figure out why you felt the need to do it," Draco responds.

It sounds like a fair idea, so Harry does what is requested and once again moves forward, planting one on the blond. It feels natural – the way these things should feel. Still, the two men can't help but wonder what it will mean tomorrow, next week, next month, next year.

Is this just temporary insanity or is it something much more than that? Draco is still asking himself that, never lingering on what the answer maybe.

Lips still fastened, Harry reaches for the buttons on the blond's shirt, pulling it open. When they separate for a second time, he stares down. "These," he murmurs, lightly touching the long, thin lines on Draco's smooth chest. "I did this, didn't I?" He slides his hand down the plane of the blond's flat stomach. They are stubborn looking scars, having faded very little since they first appeared.

"Yes," Draco says, confirming what Harry already knew.

"Are they everywhere?"

"Yes, they're in other places," Draco admits. "Don't let it phase you."

"How can I not?" Harry whispers somewhat harshly.

"Just remember I forgave you and you forgave me," Draco says. "Neither of us is completely innocent."

Harry closes his eyes for a moment before relenting. "You're right." When he opens his eyes, the two men stare at one another.

"Do you want to go upstairs?" Draco invites. When he gets the words out, they sound strange. He's never done this sort of thing before and he almost feels shy. Almost.

He hasn't been with a man since he was seventeen. It was Blaise Zabini. Draco didn't even particularly like the guy. He just wanted to be with someone and Blaise was around. It was the most emotionally draining year of his life and, so, he and Blaise used one another. Draco wanted comfort and Blaise wanted a willing hole. There was nothing romantic about it. It was purely carnal – just like the rest of Draco's sexual relationships.

With Harry, Draco knows it will be different.

"All right," Harry accepts.

So, the two men go upstairs and turn into Draco's bedroom. Harry takes a moment to glance around, never having been in this part of the house. It's simple, but hardly modest. Modest doesn't suit Malfoys. The curtains and bed sheets are rich, dark fabrics and the furniture is polished wood. Everything looks expensive and tasteful.

Draco locks his bedroom door and turns to face Harry.

"So, we're really going to do this?" Harry asks.

"Scared, Potter?" Draco jokes.

Harry chuckles at that. "You wish."

Draco smiles faintly before finishing what Harry started. He removes his unbuttoned shirt before reaching for the button on his pants. Harry watches as Draco undresses and in Harry's eyes he looks absolutely perfect. Silently, Harry follows the blond's lead.

"I've only been with women," Harry admits. "I mean... I've thought about men, but I've never been with one."

"It's okay," Draco says as they both stand bare in front of one another. "I'll show you what to do."

Harry can't help but notice more scars on Draco's body – courtesy of Sectumsempra. He's just lucky Snape was around to reverse the worst of the damage.

"Stop it," Draco says sharply. "I know what you're thinking, so stop."

"I can't really help it," the brunet admits.

"Lie down on your back," Draco instructs, pointing to his bed. He dims the lights in the room and then moves towards his nightstand, grabbing a bottle of something Harry assumes is a lubricant. He watches as Draco pours a generous amount into his hand and then begins rubbing the brunet's cock until it hardens.

"Feels nice…" Harry murmurs. He hasn't been laid in months.

"I'm quite good at this," Draco responds.

"So I've been told," Harry says in a somewhat teasing tone.

"Just relax and enjoy."

Draco, though always the receptive partner, likes being the one in control. Harry senses this and is more than happy to let Draco take the upper hand – especially since Harry knows less of what to do.

Draco shifts himself on top of Harry and sinks into his lap with ease that surprises the brunet. He lets out a little moan, taking a moment to adjust to the sensation.

"Doesn't that hurt?" Harry wonders.

"No, I'm used to it," Draco tells him. Just because he hasn't been with anyone else in a while, it doesn't mean he hasn't been with himself. He begins to roll his hips, moving with practised expertise.

Yes, he certainly knows what he is doing.

Harry fights the urge to close his eyes right away. Instead, he stares up at Draco, watching as the blond grinds himself down on Harry's lap. He emits quiet, little moans, but nothing more. Harry can't help but wonder what he'd sound like if his son wasn't sleeping down the hall. Nonetheless, he enjoys the sounds he's making. It's never a sound he thought he'd want to hear, but he can see it quickly becoming his favourite sound.

Harry slides his hands up the blond's thighs, up his side, over his back before settling down on his hips. His skin feels nice. He's soft, warm… two things he never imagined Draco being. He always seemed so hard and cold.

Harry finally allows his eyes to slip shut and he gets lost in the movements of it all. It feels good, the way sex should, but there is something more to this experience. Draco feels attached and perhaps that is what he was lacking in all his past experiences.

When it's over, they lie side by side, breathing softly. Part of Harry can't believe he just had sex with Draco Malfoy, but the other part of him is elated. Draco feels similarly, but they would both have to agree that it felt natural and it felt right.

Harry rolls onto his side and perches himself up on an elbow. With the other hand, he touches the scars on Draco's chest again. "It's even worse… seeing them like this."

Draco sighs. "When I failed to kill Dumbledore, Voldemort used the Cruciatus curse on me as punishment," he reveals. "He made my parents watch." He pauses and then says, "Of course, I screamed… but it didn't hurt as much as what you did to me. I don't know why. I think it's because I was so dead on the inside at that point that I almost welcomed the pain. I cared less… but when you used that spell on me, I was still newly frightened and that was somewhat of a tipping point. For a moment, I thought you actually meant to do it. Then I saw your face and I realized you didn't. You were hovering over me looking absolutely mortified. I probably would have laughed if I didn't feel like I was being ripped open."

Harry lets out a breath. "I'm sorry. Really, I am. If I could take it back, I could in a heartbeat. It's probably the stupidest thing I've ever done. I've done a lot of stupid things, but no one has gotten hurt the way you got hurt."

"I tried to use the Cruciatus curse on you, so it was called for," Draco justifies.

"Hardly," Harry mutters. "You know… I used that curse on Bellatrix after she killed my Godfather… but my heart wasn't in it, so I was only able to deliver a very brief moment of pain."

"Yes… you need to really mean it. I think if I actually succeeded in getting the spell out, the effect would have been similar to that. I wouldn't have been able to inflict maximum damage on you."

Harry nods his head. "Yeah… you were honestly too fragile for that kind of lifestyle. You weren't made for it. You grew less and less malicious."

Draco rolls his eyes at being called fragile, but lets it slide. "Well, you're forgiven," he says decidedly. "Besides, I'm sure you have more to forgive me for than the other way around. I was complete trash to you, but you still saved my life twice."

"You saved my life, too," Harry reminds him. "When we were at your home… I know you recognized me, but you still didn't sell me out."

"I suppose," Draco relents. "Still, things don't feel even."

"That doesn't matter," Harry says. "I forgive you and you forgive me. It's over. We move on. It's the only way we'll be able to move forward. We can't dwell on things of the past. It isn't healthy."

"I know that," Draco murmurs. He takes a deep, silent breath, trying to gather up the strength to say what has been weighing him down lately. "I love you," he starts quietly. "I know it sounds sudden, but I've felt this way for a while and… I feel like I'm being given a chance to say it, so I should be honest. I think I was always somewhat drawn to you. I think the spite melted away after you saved my life at the school. I just felt conflicted. I set the feelings aside, however, because I didn't think I'd ever have to do anything about them… but then you showed up in my life and you lingered."

"Life is funny," Harry muses softly. "It's like… we were meant to be together, even with all the odds."

"Perhaps," Draco contemplates.

10.

"Ron and Hermione don't mind it, you know," Harry decides to mention some time later. "I mean, Ron thinks it's weird and thinks you're an arse, but… I mean, they accept it."

"Lovely," Draco murmurs.

"Hermione says we should all have tea," the brunet adds.

Draco snorts at that. "We'll see."

When Scorpius woke up the night after Harry and Draco first slept together, he was surprised to see that Harry was still around. "Did you have a sleepover?" he had asked. Harry smiled and told him they did.

Now they are seated at the kitchen table. It's morning and Harry has spent yet another night at the Malfoy residence. Ever since the first time, he has been spending many nights with Draco and his son.

It doesn't take long for Scorpius to piece together what all of it means – in his own innocent way, of course.

"You and Dad are together," Scorpius says, watching them interact.

"Yes, we are," Harry responds, bemused. "What do you think about that?"

Draco sets a cup of coffee down in front of Harry and a cup of juice for Scorpius.

"I like it," Scorpius says. "Dad likes you. So do I."

Harry smiles. "Well, good. I like you guys, too."

"I know," the child replies simply, giving Harry a toothy grin.

This is how it all begins. From here, things will change. Harry knows that their journey together is still far from over. He expects some fights in the future, because he knows good and well that Draco can be a stubborn person. It won't all be sunshine and daisies, but it will be worth it.

.

.

.

Epilogue.

Draco opens the window as an owl glides into the kitchen, perching itself on the counter. He grabs the letter from it, opening it up. He reads it with a slight smile on his face.

"What does it say?" Harry asks, already knowing that it is a letter from Scorpius.

"Gryffindor," the blond says, turning to face the other man. "Scorpius is in Gryffindor."

Harry grins at that. "I had a feeling."

"So did I."

The years have gone by and Scorpius just started his first year of Hogwarts. Harry and Draco are engaged. Things are falling into place – finally. After a long and funny road with many swerves and obscure directions, they both know exactly where they are headed. It's about time.

Of course, when news spread that Saviour Harry Potter was dating former Death Eater Draco Malfoy, Rita Skeeter made sure it made the front page. As much as Draco loves attention, he hates the negative kind and for years and years that is the only kind of attention he would get. So, he was less than thrilled.

Most people thought it to be a joke, but Harry insisted it was far from it. He was in love. He is in love… and he isn't ashamed of it.

Ron still finds it strange, but Hermione thinks it's sweet – mostly just because Draco has apologized to her. She forgave him with ease, sensing genuine remorse. Ron, however, is still a little more stubborn and spends a lot of their together time teasing Draco. Scorpius, on the other hand, is simply excited that he'll soon have two wonderful parents instead of one.

Draco's own parents were less than thrilled to hear of their son's new relationship, but they realized that there was nothing they could do about it. Not this time.

"I hope he makes a lot of friends," Draco says.

Harry smiles. He went with Draco to drop Scorpius off at the train station. He couldn't help but recall many years ago when he was in the exact same position – heading to Hogwarts for the first time. That is when his life changed. He met great friends – some he kept and some he grew away from. Those seven years were filled with happiness, sorrow and loss… but, to Harry, it was all worth it. It's all a part of growing up.

"He will," Harry finally says. "They'll love him."

Draco lets out a soft sigh. "It feels like just yesterday he was a baby. Where does the time go?"

"It becomes memories," Harry tells him.

"I felt so nostalgic standing there, waving Scorpius off as he got on the train," Draco admits.

"So did I," the brunet agrees with a chuckle. "I kept thinking back to when I was standing there, boarding the train for the first time."

"It will be strange being without him for so long," Draco murmurs the confession. "I spent literally every day with him. Now I'll only see him on holidays."

"I'll try to keep you busy," Harry says with a wink.

Draco chuckles. "I'll hold you to that."

Fin.