THE SECRET SON: LORD POTTER REVEALS YOUNG HEIR

Dear Readers;

I know you all probably think you know everything there is to know about me. After all, my life has been lived in the public eye since I first set foot in Hogwarts at the tender age of eleven, wide-eyed and staring at the wonder that is magic. Now, I'm twenty-two and a fixture in the Wizengamot, but I am still amazed by some of the things possible with the aid of magic.

My son is one of those things.

I know this will shock the world, but yes, I do have a son. I have two, in fact, though only one is mine by birth. The other, young Teddy, was my godson before he was orphaned by the war. Both his parents died in the Battle of Hogwarts. A couple years later I blood-adopted Teddy, at the behest of his grandmother, Andromeda Tonks, who was very ill.

I did not keep that a secret, however, unlike Reggie. Regulus Harrison Potter, four years old, my son and heir. I've gone to great lengths to keep anyone from having any knowledge of Reggie, for two reasons. Of course, I did so for his own protection. The Ministry may have rounded up all the Death Eaters, but not all Voldemort's supporters carried the Dark Mark, and plenty would still try to hurt me if they had the chance. I will not allow Reggie to be that chance.

The other reason is so he could live like any child should.

I know what it is like to grow up with fame. I didn't even know I was a wizard until my eleventh birthday, and that was the same day I learned of my fame. I was thrust into a world I knew nothing about, but everyone knew me, and they watched me, and they talked about me all the time. At times, it seemed like I couldn't do anything without it ending up on the front page of the Prophet. It was strange, frustrating, and frankly quite annoying. I want to keep Reggie away from all that.

Don't expect to see us all in public very often.

I hope to be able to provide Reggie with everything I never had growing up. I want him to grow up loved and educated, knowing he is free to do anything and love anyone he wants. I don't want him to grow up like I did, with the weight of a world waiting on him to save it on his shoulders.

Reggie, my son, live your life your way and never doubt that I love you.

Lord Harrison James Potter
Earl of Gryffindor

Draco laid the newspaper aside, turning to look at the man in bed next to him. Harry looked back, raising his eyebrow in a silent question.

"It was perfect," Draco told him, receiving a beautiful smile in return. "It was a good idea to do the whole release yourself."

"Well I wasn't going to give Skeeter the chance to grab the credit of doing it," Harry quipped. "Any reporter would have kept digging for secrets," he added seriously. "This way I let out only what I wanted, and there isn't any bias or comments from a reporter hoping for another by-line."

"You and your secrets," Draco murmured, tracing the exposed scars on Harry's chest. "You wear them like armour."

"Can you blame me?" Harry whispered back. Draco shook his head and kissed him gently. He curled into Harry's side, watching the sun rise through the bedroom window. He loved doing this in the mornings. His old room at the Manor had faced the west and the Slytherin dungeons were under the lake, so he had never gotten to watch the sun come up from bed before. It was one of the things he loved about Harry's room.

"Daddy! Father!"

Yeah, he supposed he loved those little things, too.

Reggie and Teddy burst into the room. Teddy took a flying leap and landed on Harry's chest, but the calmer Reggie clambered up to sit next to Draco.

"Morning, Snakeling," he said to the boy, kissing his forehead. Reggie smiled and hugged him while Teddy chattered happily about the trip they were taking to the Burrow that day. Reggie still wasn't used to the large family of redheads. He wasn't used to big, loud groups of people. He loved going to Malfoy Manor, though. Narcissa doted on the boy, and Reggie in turn adored his Grandmere.

"Alright, boys," Harry said, cutting through Teddy's excited talking, "time to go get dressed. Draco and I will meet you down in the kitchen for breakfast and then we'll go, alright?"

"Ok!"

"Ok, Daddy."

The boys dashed off again, and Draco laughed.

"I suppose that's the end of our lie-in," he said.

Harry growled and pushed him out of bed.

"I can stay here longer if you shower first," he mumbled, rolling over and pulling the blankets over his head again. Draco let him, stumbling off to the bathroom.

The first thing Harry noticed at the Burrow was that Charlie was there. That was a surprise, he hadn't known Charlie was back in England. The last time Harry had seen his friend was his birthday dinner two months before.

The second thing he noticed was how tense Draco was.

It was a hard thing not to notice, considering the way they had to hold on to each other. Draco's restriction require that Harry always travel with him, by Floo, portkey or apparition. Draco's shoulders went stiff and his spine was rigid under Harry's hand.

The third thing Harry noticed was the reason for Draco's tension.

Ron and Hermione were there. The glared at Draco as he stepped out of the Floo. Reggie, clever Reggie, seemed to pick up on their dislike of the man he called 'Father' and gripped Draco's hand with white knuckles, sheltering slightly behind his legs. Teddy, on the other hand, went rushing straight toward George. Harry was still dubious of the sweets George offered, but he figured George wouldn't hurt the boy. Teddy could learn on his own.

"They won't bother you," Harry whispered to Draco.

"Us," Draco murmured back. Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Right. They won't bother us," he corrected. "We won't let them."

"Hey, mate!" Charlie greeted, clapping him on the back. Harry grinned.

"I didn't know you were back home, Charlie!"

"Yeah, I picked up a bit of an unexpected holiday from the reserve director." He rubbed the back of his head. "Just got in two days ago, actually."

"So what happened?" Harry asked with a smirk, seeing right through Charlie's vague replies. The dragonologist smiled ruefully.

"Remember Hagrid's old Norwegian Ridgeback? Good old Norberta?" Harry nodded. "She's nesting right now, and one of the eggs was deformed when she laid it. We planned to get it out soon, but I thought I could go after it myself, and, well…"

"You got crisped, didn't you?" Harry's smirk grew.

"I wasn't 'crisped'!" Charlie cried, affronted. Draco and Reggie stared at him with wide, impressed eyes. "So I was burned a little…"

"Mm," Harry hummed, grinning. Charlie was the kind of guy to think he could handle a dragon by himself and only realise he couldn't when he got burned.

"You didn't try going in with a broom?" Draco asked with a smirk of his own. Charlie scowled, but there was not heat in it.

"We can't all be Harry Potter," he muttered.

"And thank Merlin for that!" George added, coming over to them with Teddy perched on his shoulders. He shook Draco's hand first, then Harry.

"Hey!"

"Well I, for one, am glad there's only one of you," Draco said, gripping Harry's hand. "Makes me special that I have him." Harry smiled and kissed him on the cheek. Charlie snorted, and George covered Teddy's eyes.

"Don't watch, kid!" he cried exaggeratedly. "They're being mushy!"

"Funny, George."

"I try."

Draco growled low in his throat as Ronald knocked into him one too many times. Merlin, if he had his wand…Usually he didn't miss it much, since Harry would happily do any spell he needed, or he could ask one of the elves if they minded, but he so badly wanted the length of hawthorn back in his hand, if only to curse Ronald blind.

Harry might not even mind. Much.

"Alright, Ron?" Harry asked casually. Draco spun around to stare at him. Was Ronald alright?

"Yeah, fine," Weasley grunted.

"It's just that you're stumbling around rather a lot already, but you haven't had more than half a glass of Ogden's," Harry smirked, and Draco relaxed, realising what he was getting at. "I never pegged you as one who couldn't hold his liquor."

George and Charlie laughed, while Ronald flushed an ugly red that clashed horribly with his hair.

"Why you-!" he started, but Harry showed him where his wand was hidden in his hand, aimed at Ronald's heart and he went pale. He turned on his heel and stalked off.

"Told you," Harry murmured in his ear, and Draco leaned back into his chest for a moment.

"You two really are just the cutest things," Molly cried, bustling over. Draco blushed, and she tittered. "Harry dear, it is just so lovely to see you finally fall in love!" She patted his cheek. "And raising a family already! Two young boys, you must be exhausted! It's a good thing for all of you that Draco moved in."

That's one way to put it, Draco thought. He hadn't really planned on doing any childcare when he wrote that first letter to Harry, he was just looking for a way to stay out of Azkaban. He certainly hadn't expected to fall in love with Harry, or to have Harry love him in return.

"Yeah, Draco's been a real godsend," Harry told her, and she beamed.

Teddy was still going strong, but Reggie was flagging, Harry could see. Merlin knew where that boy got his energy, but it never ended! Not like Reggie, who Draco held propped on his hip while the boy's head leaned on his shoulder as he talked to Arthur.

He indulged in a mental groan and a small sigh as he saw Ron and Hermione heading toward him. He'd managed to avoid talking to just them all day, not interested in whatever vitriol they were going to spew about his chosen occupation, his son, or his lover.

"Yes?" he asked, rather coldly, as they approached.

"I can't believe you hid your son from us for three years," Hermione hissed.

Ah, so they were going to start right off then,

"And I can't believe you think what goes on in my private home is any of your business," he shot back. "Besides, why are you bringing this up again? I told everyone important to me about Reggie at Christmas, nine months ago." He sighed. "Is this about the press release? 'Cause I'm pretty sure that's my business, too."

"But you hardly said anything about him in the letter!" Hermione cried, and Ron nodded. "Who's his mother? When did you manage to have a child? We don't know anything about him!"

"And that's the way I'm going to keep it," Harry replied. "You can't honestly expect me to bare my life to the world, right? You know how much I just want privacy to live my life, and how little I actually get!"

"But when did you make the time to have him? His birthday's right after the Battle, so with a nine-month pregnancy he would have been conceived in September, but we were on the run then, and you were always with us!"

"Leave it, Hermione," Harry said flatly. "I can tell you right now that you know nothing about Reggie's origins or his bloodlines, and it's very likely you never will, unless I choose to tell you."

"So why won't you just tell us?!" Ron interjected loudly, speaking up for the first time. Harry glared at him coldly.

"Because I prefer to keep my secrets to myself. Less of a chance of them getting spread across newspapers that way. In case you've forgotten our school years, when mere rumours of my love life landed your wife in the hospital wing." Hermione flinched, reminded of the letter full of bubotuber pus she had received during the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

"What is it with you and secrets?" Ron demanded.

"Fine. You want one of my secrets? Fine," he growled, untucking and unbuttoning his shirt. "A month after the Battle, Dolohov, Nott and Bellatrix captured me and kept me in a cage in the cellar of an old muggle house." Ron scoffed, and Harry raised an eyebrow, fumbling with the last buttons in his anger. "You don't believe me? They tortured me daily for almost a three weeks before I managed to escape. I'm sure you remember all the scars I've gotten since you met me, right?" He pulled his shirt open, pushing it down to his elbows. "Go on, tell me how many you recognise."

Hermione's hand flew to cover her mouth. Ron's eyes went wide as he looked over the scarred, burned canvas of Harry's chest.

"Of course," he continued in a conversational tone, "only about some curses leave scars. Some of the worst don't cut or burn. The Cruciatus, for example. That was always Bellatrix's favourite, remember?" He laughed without humour. "I always will. Once a day for three weeks. At least once a day. I wondered a lot if I was going mad, or if I was already too far gone."

The rest of the Weasleys had noticed them by now and were staring in silent shock. A brush of cool fingertips across the back of Harry's neck told him Draco had joined them.

"How…how did you escape?" Hermione whispered.

"I killed them," Harry replied flatly, without emotion. "Pure wandless magic and desperation. Then I called Kreacher to take me home."

"The remains of Bellatrix Lestrange, Antonin Dolohov and both Theodore Notts were brought into the Ministry anonymously," Ron muttered, remembering. "I was in the Auror Academy then, it was all anyone talked about for days." Harry smiled coldly.

"My doing. Well, most of it. Nott killed his own son." He swallowed hard, remembering, and Draco's fingers returned to brush across his neck again.

"Mate-"

"Don't." Harry cut him off abruptly. "Call me mate. We aren't mates anymore, not after the way neither of you have any support for the decisions I've made."

Hermione looked crestfallen, but Ron just looked mad. Harry turned away, buttoning his shirt up again.

"C'mon, love," he said to Draco, still holding a sleepy Reggie, "let's go home. Teddy!"

They bundled into the Floo, leaving the Burrow behind in shocked silence.