Author's note: This chapter turned out to be quite longer than I anticipated ^^; I had to finish it today, so I hope it isn't too bad. This is the chapter I'm most insecure about, because I know a lot of you are eager to know how this will end. There were some mixed feelings about Draco and Harry, but I hope that how I wrote this chapter - and ended the story - makes sense. If not, I apologise ^^;

I want to take everyone of you who took the time to read, review and favourite this story. I never expected this story to reach more than 400 reviews, so thank you very much for that! Words can't express how happy I am with the response this story got :) It has been quite the journey, but I hope you'll enjoy this last chapter!

Thanks to the following reviewers: WilheminaGrubblyPlank; Ern Estine 13624; Belle A Lestrange; Gina-luliana; Rei . Avi; neneksihir; The Wandmaker; VoxPopuli0825; littlesprout; Guest; mizzrazz72; leopardblack; Baxter87; fahaar; Ariadne; mizz-sunshin3; yukino76; lytebrytehybrid88; delia cerrano; SehunsBae37; Sweetciel; Guest; DheeDixon; lil joker 1989; TheBeauty; Kissme007; VivianDianthus

Warnings: Angst; memories/flashbacks; some fluff; time skips

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling owns it.

For the last time: I hope you'll like this chapter!

Chapter 15

On Sunday, a couple of days after he had sent the letter and had visited his friends, he didn't enter his lab after breakfast. He had picked up his brewing again right after he had come home; his month long absence had caused him to lose some contracts, but fortunately the majority of his clients was still willing to give him a chance.

Preparing potions also helped take off his mind from the fact that he hadn't heard anything of Harry yet.

It's only been a couple of days, he told himself, as he swung his cloak around his shoulders. Rain was drizzling down, coating everything it touched in a wet sheen. I need to give him some time.

He felt too restless to attempt brewing, though, and he was struck with a sudden need to go outside. Perhaps a walk would clear his mind a bit.

"If anyone asks, I'm out for a walk," he informed one of the house elves and the little being nodded, bowing before returning to his task of mopping the floor.

He pulled up his hood once he set foot outside, letting the big door swing shut behind him. There were some birds chirping in the distance and leaves rustled as the wind played with them. He inhaled deeply, letting the fresh air, tinged with the scent of rain, fill his lungs. He made his way down the path, past the gate and then stood still, asking himself where he would go to.

To the village? No, he didn't want to encounter someone now. That automatically ruled out Diagon Alley and its surrounding streets as well. Where should he go? Just wander aimlessly around? He could do that now, he realised. The threat was gone; nobody of the group had managed to escape. He had his freedom back, so what was he going to do with it?

The answer was surprisingly easy to find.

He closed his eyes and Apparated, ignoring the queasy sensation this travel method always brought with it. When grey eyes opened again, they stared at rubble.

Draco swallowed, standing uneasily in front of what had been his home with Harry. The house they had been so proud of when they bought it; the house they had sworn to turn into a home. The place where they had been planning to raise their child.

Now there was nothing left but ruins.

Clearly nobody had been here to remove the shattered stones. The place looked exactly like Draco had left it behind, minus the pillars of dark smoke. There was no tingling of the wards to greet him when he took a hesitating step forwards. No magic to greet him and envelop him in its protective, warm embrace.

Had anything of their possessions survived the blast? His eyes caught some small shards of wood and he wondered whether that wood had belonged to their furniture or the wooden frames around their pictures. Or maybe those were the last remaining parts of their wooden floor.

In a daze he wandered around; his mind recalling every room perfectly from his memories. Here had been the living room where Draco had teased Harry for buying those white, frilly throw pillows. Harry's defence had been that they looked nice on the couch; the rest of their argument had been swallowed up by kisses as they had made out on those stupid pillows.

He passed the remains of the hearth where they had put their most important pictures on. He thought he could still see glass glinting on the ground.

The kitchen, where Harry had done the majority of the cooking as Draco was pants at it. It had also been the place where they had discovered Harry was pregnant.

"You ready?" Draco asked, uncorking the vial.

Nervous green eyes met his gaze and the owner of them nodded, releasing his breath slowly as he made a small cut in his finger. Small gleaming beads of red welled up around the torn skin and the finger was held above the vial, allowing the blood to drip right into it. Seven drops later, the cut was healed with a quick spell and Draco put the cork back into the bottle. He shook it firmly, letting the blood mix thoroughly with the Detection Potion and watched with sharp eyes how the liquid lazily swirled around; the colours changing too quickly to put a name on them.

He only became aware of how tense he had become when a hand landed on his wrist, squeezing it gently. Quickly he looked up, meeting Harry's soft smile.

"We'll deal with whatever the result will be," Harry murmured soothingly, rubbing his thumb over his inner wrist.

"Yeah, 'course," Draco muttered, but he couldn't help but feel incredibly nervous as they both watched how the changing of the colours slowed down.

What if Harry wasn't pregnant? Would they try to have a baby on purpose this time, instead of being surprised by it? What if he was pregnant? That would certainly change a lot of things in their lives, but …

A part – larger than he dared to admit – hoped that the result would be positive. They had only just recently become engaged, so maybe it was a bit too soon to wish for a positive test, but he couldn't help himself. The thought of having a baby together with Harry, forming a family … It excited him.

"Oh," Harry breathed out surprised when the potion finally settled upon one colour.

A bright baby blue.

"You're – you're pregnant," Draco brought out; shock making his voice sound smaller than he had intended.

"Yeah, yeah, I am," the dark haired man said dazed and his grip around Draco's wrist tightened almost painfully. He licked his lips, uncertainty suddenly flickering across his face. "Are you – do you … want this?" he asked haltingly, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. As if they hadn't discussed all their options when suspicion had arisen that he could possibly be carrying a child. As if they hadn't made a decision based on whatever the result would turn out to be.

The blond wizard placed the bottle on the kitchen table and gently thumbed the abused lip free. "I'm ready if you are," he said, pressing a gentle kiss on Harry's lips before he slid his arms around his waist.

Around his stomach in which their child was slowly, but surely growing.

Exhilarated laughter escaped his fiancé's mouth and hands landed on his shoulders before a mouth was kissing him fiercely. "We're going to be parents!" Harry whispered giddily; his emerald green eyes sparkling fiercer than the stars outside.

Draco smiled, certain his own face was bright with excitement that he couldn't supress, and then they were kissing again, leaning against the table as they celebrated the news.

Some tree branches creaked; the sound pulling the blond man out of his memory and he shook his head, swallowing down the lump which was suddenly blocking his throat.

They had been so happy that day …

Slowly he walked into what had been their hallway and looked up. In his mind he envisioned the nursery which had been right above where he stood now. It had been the room right next to their bedroom and a week before the attack they had removed everything out of it to make way for the new furniture. They had been bickering about the colours on the walls, he remembered with a pang in his heart. He had wanted a soft white, which would fade into a light blue, while Harry had been adamant that both green and blue should be used.

If he concentrated, he could still feel the smooth wood of the powder blue crib underneath his hands. He had surprised Harry with it, having fallen in love with the design the minute he had laid eyes upon it. The dark haired man had been nearly fourteen weeks pregnant and he had just started to show when Draco had shown him the crib. He had been full of awe and had embraced Draco tightly; they both had ignored the couple of tears trailing down his cheeks.

"You like it then?" Draco questioned, mostly teasing, but there was still a hint of uncertainty running as an undercurrent through his voice. He knew he should have spoken to Harry before buying the crib, but the second he had seen it, he just had to have it. It would be the perfect place for their baby to sleep in.

Never mind that it would still take several months before the crib would have an inhabitant.

Harry pulled back to look at him and laughed. "Like it? I love it! It's beautiful, thank you!" He carefully touched the white bow which hung near the foot end of the crib, stroking it gently. When he turned back to look at his fiancé, the soft look on his face made Draco's breath hitch. "I love you."

"I love you too," Draco smiled and their mouths met in a tender kiss.

When he opened his eyes again, he saw a grey sky where the ceiling should have been. There really was nothing left, huh? No furniture, no pictures, no trinkets …

Nothing had survived. Their home had been reduced to dust and shattered stones.

Why had he come here? There was clearly nothing left for him; everything had been obliterated during the blast. The pieces of brick and some shards of glass were the only evidence left that there had been once a home here.

The irony wasn't lost on him that the remains of their home closely resembled their relationship.

Clenching his jaw, he turned around, intent on going back to the manor. There was no point in lingering here; the memories this place would call up would only remind him of everything he had lost. He took a step forwards, wood crunching underneath his foot, and –

Something tingled; a shiver dancing across his spine. He whirled around, eyes widening at the unexpected touch of magic he suddenly felt. Where was it coming from? He remained motionless for a moment, attempting to figure out where the magical aura was coming from.

There. It appeared to come from –

Eyes shot open and he inhaled sharply, as he hurried towards what had once been the right outer wall of the house. Four rows of bricks still stood up, crumbling at the edges, looming over a gap which had led to the basement before. Carefully he took several steps down until the second row of stones was on eye level. Here, there was a particular spot humming softly with magic – his magic to be exact.

Heart beating quicker, he slipped his wand out of his pocket and carefully tapped it against the wall three times. A triangular shaped area glowed for a few seconds before the illusion of the wall melted away, revealing a small gap hidden behind it. There they were.

His hand shook when he slipped it inside the gap; his fingers curling around the cold metal. He pulled back and took a steadying breath before he unfurled his fingers and looked down. Two thin, golden rings glittered faintly in the palm of his hand.

Their wedding rings.

A lump blocked his throat and he squeezed his eyes shut as hot tears threatened to spill over. Harry hadn't known about these rings. They were supposed to be a surprise; his Christmas gift for the dark haired man actually. He had intended to let them be engraved with something that had meaning for them both. The rings were simple, but elegant, and he had just known that Harry would have liked them.

Would they ever get to fulfil their purpose? He didn't dare to hope.

His fingers closed around them tightly and he felt them digging into the soft flesh of his palm. After a moment of hesitation, he slipped them into his pocket. Even if they would never adorn their fingers, they were still proof that they had been happy before.

He ascended the few steps, being careful not to trip over any of the stones scattered around. He cast one last look around him, remembering the joy, the laughter, the love, the arguments they had had here, and left.

There was nothing else left for him here.

He was woken up on Wednesday by a loud, insistent noise, as if something was hitting his window repeatedly. Sleep still clinging on to him, he blearily stumbled out of his warm bed and shuffled over to the window, rubbing over his eyes and hiding a yawn behind his hand. Drawing back his curtains, he blinked surprised when an owl stared back up at him from behind the glass.

Then his brain finally kicked into gear and he realised with a sharp intake of breath that he was staring at a sooty black coloured owl – Harry's owl.

He hurried to open the window, stepping back nervously as the owl hopped inside calmly, as if he hadn't been knocking stubbornly against the window. Draco's hands felt clammy all of a sudden and he swallowed, eyeing the letter nervously. Did he want to know what the letter said? What if it was just one to tell him to fuck off? But no, Harry wouldn't be like that – would he?

Only one way to find out.

With trembling hands he removed the letter from the bird's leg; the black owl shook out his wings and started preening them, unbothered by the anxiety radiating from the blond man. He studied the folded letter; it felt like a heavy weight in his hand as if it was filled with stones instead of merely words on parchment.

"Come on, stop stalling," he scolded himself underneath his breath and scowled. Quickly, before he had time to start wavering, he opened the letter, feeling like his heart would beat straight out of his chest.

'Draco,

I have the day off today. If you want to talk, you can come over.

The Floo address is Rose's Field.

Harry'

Draco breathed out slowly, reading the letter – more like a note, really – over and over again. There were no endearments in it, but he hadn't been really expecting them. The note was fairly neutral, not really as cold as he had feared. At the very least Harry was willing to give him a chance to talk.

They would get to talk today. After nearly three months of no real contact, he would see him, be near him again. Maybe – he swallowed, his fingers clenching tightly around the paper – maybe he would even get to meet his son today.

The letter fluttered on his desk as he whirled around and hurried to the bathroom in order to get ready.

Trying to ignore the million butterflies rampaging through his stomach.

Despite longing to see Harry as soon as possible, it still took him half an hour wavering in front of the fireplace to take a pinch of Floo powder between his fingers. It took him another ten minutes to convince himself that doing this wouldn't end horribly and throw the powder into the fire.

The flames instantly burned a bright green, crackling loudly as they waited for him to step inside the hearth and announce his destination.

"Come on," he muttered, clenching his hands. This was stupid; he was being ridiculous. This was what he wanted, no? A chance to talk to Harry, to figure out where they stood now.

Was he really going to lose out on that chance because he'd rather be a coward and avoid the confrontation?

With a growl, he stepped into the fireplace, calling out, "Rose's Field!"

The world started whirling around him, colours shifting and dancing, as he passed living rooms, bedrooms, attics, basements, offices, foyers … The flames licked merrily at his legs and his stomach was churning and he hoped to Merlin he wouldn't throw up the second he stood in Harry's house. The fire started slowing down and on instinct he took a step forwards, setting foot on black tiles. His breathing was loud in the small room, the roar of the fire dying out until a nearly inaudible crackle, and he looked around carefully, taking note of what he saw.

There was one round window, looking out on a deserted street. The walls and ceiling were a simple beige colour; against the right wall, there stood a chair and a small, round table with a jar of Floo powder placed on it. The door was open, giving him a view of the hallway, of which the wall was panelled with wood from the middle to the floor.

A shadow fell across the floor and Draco stiffened, holding his breath unconsciously as Harry appeared silently in the doorway. There were light bags underneath his eyes – their baby not sleeping well? – but otherwise he appeared fine. His eyes were dark with wariness, though, as he studied the blond man quietly.

"Hello, Draco," Harry greeted him softly after a moment of tension filled silence.

Draco swallowed – the sound embarrassingly loud in the room – and licked his lips. "Harry," he murmured, hiding his hands in his pockets to prevent the other man from seeing the tremble in them.

Still, he had used his first name and not his last – that had to mean something, right?

Harry nodded to his left. "We can talk in the living room. Do you want something to drink? Coffee, tea, water, juice?" he rattled off and Draco realised the dark haired man was as nervous as he was.

"Tea's fine," he answered, already feeling jittery enough; adding coffee to the mix would just be a disaster.

"Okay." Harry beckoned him to follow and Draco did so, cautiously; the floorboard underneath their feet creaking softly.

They passed a closed door on their right and on their left, golden light was spilling out of another room across the floor. Harry halted in front of the closed door and pointed at the other room. "That's the living room; you can take a seat already. I'm going to make some tea."

Before Draco could form any sort of reply, the younger wizard had already disappeared into what Draco presumed to be the kitchen.

On unsteady legs – not that he would ever admit that – he walked into the living room; his eyes wandering around, taking in the comfortable looking dark blue couch; the armchair filled with several files; two bookcases lined up against the left wall, filled with pictures and books; the fire dancing merrily in the small fireplace and the long, blue drapes allowing a glimpse out of the window, showing grass and part of an oak tree.

After a bout of hesitation, he sank down on the couch; his weight settling into it comfortably. There was a table in front of him with some Quidditch magazines and the latest issue of the Quibbler thrown on top of it. And next to them was …

A light green pacifier and a white stuffed cat. His son wasn't in the room, however; he must be asleep somewhere upstairs.

His stomach twisted in knots, he listened to the vague noises coming from the kitchen. For a moment it was so easy to imagine that everything was as it should be and they were just going to enjoy a cup of tea together, sharing a couple of kisses in between. He could only cling to the hope that that vision would become reality once more in the future.

"Here." A steaming cup was placed in front of him on the table; the fragrance of something flowery and citrus like curling up in his nostrils.

"Thanks," he murmured, but didn't pick up the cup. His hands were still trembling slightly and he didn't need a burn on top of everything.

There was an awkward pause and then Harry sat down on the other end of the couch, cradling his own cup between his hands. He crossed his legs, tapping his foot restlessly against the floor.

"So, you wanted to talk?" Harry prompted him, worrying his lower lip between his teeth.

This was it.

Draco took a deep breath and his heart started beating faster; his heartbeat so loud in his ears, he was sure the other wizard could hear it too. Twisting his hands together before he could do something as stupid as reach out and touch Harry – he didn't have that right, not yet, perhaps never again – he said haltingly, "I – I'm sorry. For everything. For – for the things I said and did. There's no excuse for how much I've hurt you and - …"

"You were under a curse, Draco," Harry murmured; his eyes dark. "It wasn't your - "

"I'm not going to use the curse as an excuse," Draco snapped, clenching his hands into fists. "Curse or not, I hurt you and I never should have done that. I've never wanted to hurt you. I'm sorry, H-Harry. I know it doesn't make up for the horrible things I said, but … I wish I could go back. Try to fight off the curse and …"

"Draco, this curse isn't like the Imperius one. None of us knew you were hit by it and - "

"Other people managed to get past it!" Draco burst out and looked away in shame, feeling his cheeks heat up. "They got past it, didn't they, so I should have – I should have …" He pressed his lips together, smothering the sound that sounded too akin to a sob for him to be comfortable with.

Yes, he knew how the curse worked, knew how it had used his love for Harry to turn him into someone horrible and vile. He also knew that other victims had been able to supress the curse before it could gain strength. They had their partners back; they hadn't destroyed their relationship beyond possible repair.

Why couldn't he have done the same? Why hadn't he been able to fight off the curse? Was he still that weak, even after all those years?

"You and them are completely different cases," Harry remarked quietly. "You shouldn't compare yourself to them."

Draco couldn't stop a bitter chuckle from escaping. "Oh no? What the hell else am I supposed to do? We all got cursed the same way, but I'm the one who couldn't get past it!" he spat out, disgusted at himself.

"We have a history together that they didn't," Harry said, unperturbed by the bitterness which was practically hanging like a dark cloud around the blond wizard. "If anything, you suffered the worst because of that curse. And not everyone managed to get past it, Draco. I told you that some of them decided not to go back to their partners."

"I bet they didn't say the stuff I did," Draco said bitterly, glaring at the floor.

Harry shifted restlessly. "I don't know," he replied carefully. "We sent them an invitation to let themselves be examined and get rid of the curse. What they're going to do with that is up to them."

Draco shook his head; self-loathing filling him, settling heavy in his stomach. "I never should have acted like that. I could have kept my mouth shut, but instead I – I hurt you and said horrible things about – about our son." His voice broke and he swallowed past the lump in his throat. "I'm so sorry, Harry, you have to believe me. If I could turn back time, I would."

"Draco …"

"I ruined everything and I - "

"Draco! Stop apologising; it was their fault, the curse's fault. They're the ones to blame, not you!" Harry said sharply, cutting him off. His cup was placed on the table with a harsh 'tick', which echoed through the room.

"Then why didn't you visit me at the hospital?" The unbidden words escaped him in a small, hurt voice before he could think twice about them and he froze; every muscle in his body tensing up.

The question hung heavily in the air, choking them, and when Draco dared to look up and turn his head, Harry was gaping; his green eyes wide behind his glasses. He instantly regretted asking that question.

"Forget it; I understand why you didn't. You don't have to answer that," he said hurriedly; his nails digging in his flesh. Just like in Pansy's living room, the urge to flee was growing stronger with each second that passed and every muscle in his body tensed up, ready to jump up and leave.

"No, Draco, that's …" Harry shook his head, looking miserable all of a sudden. He glanced away, clapping his hands together on his lap. "I didn't visit you, because I was a bloody coward."

The admission stunned Draco enough that he remained silent, staring at the younger man bemused.

"I've suspected for a long time that something wasn't right, that there had to be more than just memory loss," Harry started, looking down at his hands. He balled them into fists for a few seconds before relaxing them. "I just couldn't figure out what. I was both relieved and angry at myself when we got to hear that there was an additional curse placed on you. Relieved, because it confirmed my suspicion that it hadn't been really you after all and angry because I didn't figure it out sooner."

Harry's words echoed those of Weasley's and Draco opened his mouth to tell him what he had told Weasley, but Harry bulldozered on, his gaze remaining fixed on his hands.

"I … I was scared to death when Ron told me they had caught you," Harry continued, his voice nearly inaudible.

Draco barely dared to breathe or move; staring wide eyed at the other man as a sliver of hope wormed its way into his chest.

"I was so relieved when we found you on time. I thought we would be too late and that thought …" He released a shuddering breath and shook his head. "I had planned to visit you in the hospital once you were awake, to talk, but when that moment came …" he trailed off and audibly swallowed.

A bout of silence passed between them. Harry seemed to be debating about something and Draco didn't dare to open his mouth, irrationally scared of what would happen if he did.

The dark haired man seemed to steel himself. He took a deep breath and twisted his body around, finally looking at Draco again. The look in those deep green eyes was so raw it almost made Draco want to look away. He couldn't, though; like hypnotised he gazed back, hope and fear warring inside of him.

"When Ron told me you had woken up, I wanted to see you, but … I couldn't. I didn't dare to." Harry pressed his eyes shut for a moment, balling his hands into fists again, before opening his eyes once more. Self-disgust, a look Draco had never expected to see, was reflected in them. "I knew the curse and the memory loss were responsible, but … All I could think of was what you had said and – and I was afraid that nothing had changed after all. That you would still …"

"Harry, no, I didn't - "

Harry held up his hand, effectively silencing Draco. "I know, Draco. Rationally I knew, but all I could think of were our arguments and – and you courting Greengrass again. I kept seeing those pictures in the newspaper and … I know it's stupid, but I started wondering whether we had been a mistake after all and you really did want a woman." He looked away ashamed; his cheeks down to his neck colouring a deep rose.

"That's not – I want you. No one else. No woman and no other man. Just you," Draco said, unable to hide the note of despair in his voice. There was no time or place for masks here. Only truth. "I've made several mistakes these past months, and going out with Astoria has to be one of the biggest ones I made. I don't know why I did it; I was an idiot. I know it doesn't erase anything I did and said, but I'm really sorry. Whatever you want me to do, I'll do it. I just – " he swallowed, feeling like his heart was in his throat now. All or nothing now. "I just want you. You and our son. I want us back."

Harry turned his head; his eyes gleaming wet with a sheen of tears as he bit down on his lip.

"I've acted like a major arsehole this past months and if you can't forgive me, I'll understand," Draco said, voice wavering slightly. Harry opened his mouth, but this time Draco held up his hand and the other man closed his mouth again reluctantly. He needed to say this; he needed Harry to know. "I've hurt you a lot; you didn't deserve any of this. You might not believe me now, but I really, truly do love you. And I curse that group every single day for turning me into that and ruining what we had. I probably can't ever make up for the hurt I've caused you and I'm incredibly selfish, I know, but – do you think you could give me a second chance? To prove to you that I really do love you?"

"Draco …" Harry trailed off, looking conflicted.

"If – if you can't, I'll – I'll accept that," the blond man continued, even though it hurt him to say that. He didn't think he would ever accept not being given another chance, but he wouldn't even consider hurting Harry ever again by pushing him. The band, he, the curse – had done enough damage already. He swallowed, his mouth as dry as the desert. "I just – I know I don't deserve him, but could I – could I still help raise our son?"

His chest clenched tightly together, making it harder to breathe as he awaited Harry's reply. He didn't want to lose Harry, but losing his son too – the son he hadn't had the chance to meet yet due to his own doing – that would break him.

"There's nothing to deserve or forgive, Draco," Harry said and suddenly a hand was squeezing Draco's tightly; the familiarity of it making his eyes sting with hot tears.

He hadn't realised just how much he had been missing Harry's touch until he felt his hand on him.

"I'm not going to keep your son away from you, Draco. I've been an idiot this past month. I should have come to visit you in the hospital and shouldn't have been such a bloody coward," Harry went on; his eyes swirling with so many emotions, it was difficult for Draco to detangle them and understand them. "I – I shouldn't have let my insecurities get the best of me. Can you forgive me?"

Draco chuckled watery and feeling brave, he turned around his hand and gripped Harry's hand tightly in his. "I thought you said there's nothing to forgive?" he remarked, smiling weakly.

He hadn't been happy with Harry's absence, but … He couldn't blame him either. Especially not now, when he knew what had been going through Harry's mind at the time.

Harry returned his weak smile, sniffling a bit. "We're both idiots," he groaned, shaking his head.

Gathering his courage once more, Draco took a deep breath and asked hesitatingly, "So, do you – do we still have a future? Together?"

Treacherous hope was growing inside of him, bolstered by Harry's continued touch, and he tried to squash it down. Harry agreeing to let him see his son didn't mean he saw a future for them still. He might decide that after everything, it would be easier if they remained parted. His heart clenched painfully at that thought and he feared he was going to be sick.

"I – I need a bit more time to – get used to this, us again," Harry said slowly, lifting their hands briefly up in the air. "I still – there are still moments when I remember one of the things you said and – I need some time to get past that. But I'd like to start over again."

"Start over?" Draco repeated dazed. Harry isn't saying no. He wasn't rejecting him. Those thoughts kept bouncing through his mind, causing the hope to grow bigger, warming him from the inside.

The dark haired man smiled faintly. "Yeah, I want – I'd like to start over again, the two of us going on dates." He flushed slightly, looking embarrassed.

"I'd like that," Draco whispered and when their eyes met and Draco felt that sense of connection again that he had been missing for so long, he knew.

They were going to get through this. Slowly, but surely. They weren't going to let the band win.

"I'd like that too," Harry smiled; the first real, genuine smile in – in months perhaps. Harry squeezed his hand gently and looked nervous suddenly. "Do you want to – meet your son now?"

"Yes!" Draco blurted out before he could stop himself and he felt his cheeks pink when green eyes shimmered in response. He cleared his throat. "Yes, I'd love that, please."

"All right, I'll go get him. It's nearly time for him to eat anyway," Harry said lightly and gently slipped his hand out of Draco's hold. He offered another smile before he disappeared out of the room.

He was going to meet his son.

For the first time, he would see with his own eyes how his son looked like. Did he have blond hair or black? Draco's eyes or that gorgeous green of Harry's? Who did he resemble the most? Those questions and more filled his mind and he was beyond eager to get an answer to all of them.

Footsteps descending the staircase had his head shooting up and he felt nervous all of a sudden, rubbing his clammy hands over his thighs. Oh Merlin, what if he dropped him? What if his son would start crying? What if he didn't know how to hold him properly? Panic was steadily rising, replacing the hopeful butterflies which had taken residence in his stomach, and his fingers tensed like claws around his knees.

Then Harry appeared in the doorway and in his arms –

Their son.

With a smile Harry approached him and carefully lowered their baby in Draco's arms, which had come up in the air automatically at the sight of his child approaching. Gently Harry adjusted his hold a bit and then –

Then Draco was holding their son for the first time, feeling the warm weight settle against his chest. He looked down, seeing a mop of messy, black hair first and then the baby smacked his pouty lips together in a yawn before his eyes slid open sleepily.

Revealing grey eyes with a greenish hue around his pupils.

His vision blurred and for a moment he didn't know what had caused that, why he suddenly had trouble seeing his son properly. Two thin trails of hot wetness burned down his cheeks and he blinked, realising that he was crying.

"He's – he's beautiful, Harry," he spoke up, voice cracking as he watched enraptured through a sheen of tears how their baby clenched his little fists and opened his mouth in another yawn; his eyes rolling around the room before they settled somewhere on Draco's face. He smiled waveringly, bending his head to press a soft kiss on their son's forehead, inhaling his comforting baby scent. "Hey there, I'm your papa."

Harry knelt down in front of them, bringing his hand up to caress the soft, black hair of their baby. "He is, isn't he?" he smiled tenderly. "Takes after his papa."

"What is – what is his name?"

"Connor Scorpius."

Draco looked up in shock, staring dumbstruck at the younger man. "You kept - "

"He's your son too, Draco. And well, it's a better name than Hyperion," Harry chuckled; his eyes gleaming with amusement when he met grey eyes.

"Nothing wrong with Hyperion," Draco muttered, but his attention was already captured again by Connor, who was kicking his little, sock clad feet impatiently against Draco's arm.

"He's getting hungry," Harry remarked amused and rose up. "I'm going to prepare his bottle. You want to feed him?"

"Yes, I'd really like that," Draco said softly and smiled when Connor released an impatient huff.

As Harry went to the kitchen to warm a bottle of milk, Draco pressed another kiss on Connor's forehead and whispered, "I'm going to make everything right again, I promise." A feeling of fierce love swept over him and he carefully pressed Connor closer to his chest. This was his son, his child, and he was going to do everything in his power to protect him.

He had missed his first kick when he was still in the womb, had missed his birth, his first cry, his first smile, but he swore to himself he would never miss another moment in his son's life again.

He smiled, closing his eyes for a moment, ignoring the tears dripping down his cheeks. "I love you, sweetheart. You have no idea how much I love you."

And no matter how long it would take, he would get his family back – both Harry and Connor.

They took it slow.

They met up a couple of times a week, not for dates - yet – but to talk and spend time with each other, getting used to each other's presence again after such a long time. Draco bonded with his son; his awkwardness around the little boy disappearing gradually as he learnt how to handle him.

The first time Harry laughed in his presence again was when Draco had to change Connor's diaper.

Draco wrinkled his nose in disgust at the foul smell wafting in his face when he placed Connor on the changing mat. "You're sure you don't want to hire a house elf to help you?" he suggested, grimacing and holding his breath when he unbuttoned the sky blue onesie.

"Are you trying to escape your fatherly duties, Draco?" Harry piped up, leaning against the doorjamb of the nursery with his arms crossed. His eyes shone with glee and a smirk was playing around the corners of his mouth.

"Oh Merlin!" Draco recoiled when he opened the soiled diaper and gagged, looking away for a brief moment.

On the table Connor grumbled and when Draco turned back to face him, the little boy was kicking his legs in the air while he waved his arms around, occasionally thumping them against the mat.

"How can so much mess come out of something so cute?" Draco groaned as he set about cleaning Connor's bum and putting a new diaper on him. "Oh, this is just disgusting."

Suddenly Harry's laughter ran through the room, bright and clear, and the blond man glanced at him shocked as the other man threw his head back. He couldn't even be mad at Harry for laughing at his misery – he had missed the sound of his laughter way too much to be annoyed by it now.

It was enough to make the horrible, foul task of changing his son's diaper more bearable.

When Harry was at work, Connor stayed at Malfoy Manor with either Draco taking care of him or his grandparents when Draco had orders he couldn't push back. Draco had been confused at first, wondering where Connor had stayed before. Harry had admitted that the Weasleys had babysat before.

"Didn't – didn't my mother offer to babysit him?" Draco questioned after an awkward pause. He was sitting in Harry's kitchen, giving Connor his bottle of milk while Harry was preparing some quick lunch for the both of them. They would go to the park next with Connor to get some fresh air now that the weather was becoming milder.

The knife halted right above the tomato it planned to cut in and Harry rolled his shoulders; a grimace painting his mouth when he quickly glanced at the blond man. "She offered," he divulged begrudgingly and hesitated. "But I declined."

"Why?" Draco asked cautiously, tipping the bottle a bit so that Connor could drink the last bit of milk.

"Because I didn't want you to meet your son like that. It seemed – impersonal."

"Oh." Draco looked down, watching how Connor greedily sucked on the bottle's teat. He tried to imagine how he would have felt like if he had come downstairs one morning to suddenly find a baby resting in mother's arms. He would have … been quite hurt if he had to be honest. Like it hadn't been worth it to introduce him properly to his son.

Things between them were uncomfortable at first as they both tried to regain their footing after everything that had happened between them. There would be days when Harry would flinch back when Draco absently reached out to touch him and days when Draco felt so crippled with guilt that he couldn't look at either Harry or Connor, feeling like he didn't deserve them.

They wrestled themselves through it, though. Neither of them wanted to give up on them, even when the memories of those days rose their ugly heads and hung like a dark cloud between them for a while before they talked about it.

Mainly thanks to Harry and Shacklebolt's influence as the minister, the case of the Band of the Rising Phoenix was quickly brought to trial. It had been decided it would be a private one, to keep the press out and prevent the band from potentially gaining sympathy.

Draco had been indecisive at first, not able to decide whether he felt ready to face them in court or not. The thought of being near them, the people who had stolen his memories, cursed him, took his family from him, and tortured him with the intention of killing him … It had been enough to have him wake up several nights in a row, soaked with sweat; his heart hammering in his chest. Fear had him almost refuse attending the trial, but in the end he had given in. He needed the closure of knowing they were going to be punished for their crimes.

Harry remained at his side the whole time; a steadfast presence which grounded the grey eyed man and offered a sense of safety. When eyes full of hatred stared at him and mouths sneeringly mouthed threats at him, he knew he could turn his head, look at Harry and meet his reassuring smile. He knew he would feel Harry reaching out with his hand and entangling their fingers together, comforting him. He knew he could trust on those little gestures to get him through the trial. He could trust Harry to be there for him, in spite of everything which had occurred.

The trial ended up taking three whole weeks. Despite the abundance of evidence and the testimonies of several members themselves and a couple of the victims – including Draco – the lawyers appointed to the band members tried to argue that they didn't deserve a severe punishment.

"They have suffered due to the loss of their loves ones and their grief made them act irrational," one of the lawyers spoke, throwing a venomous look at Draco.

It didn't matter in the end, though. No matter what kind of excuses the lawyers came up with, the court was immitigable: every member was sentenced to life in Azkaban with the added order of their wands being snapped.

They would never be able to hurt Draco or any one of his loved ones again. It was enough to have him collapse in relief on his seat in the courtroom; Harry's arm resting heavily, but wanted around his shoulders.

They were safe.

Two months after their reconciliation, Harry took Draco out on their first official date. Narcissa had eagerly agreed to babysit Connor for the day and even Lucius looked content at the thought of spending time with his grandson.

They went flying for hours, racing each other and playing Seeker games as the sun shone warmly above them. They shared lunch and dinner and their laughter was no longer a rare occurrence.

Draco had left it up to Harry to decide when to take their relationship further. The younger man had asked him for time and he had respected that wish, even if it had itched several times to ask him on a date. He was beyond giddy to have Harry initiating the next step; certainly they were just dates now and their relationship wasn't yet like it had been before, but …

They were making progress. It didn't matter to Draco how many dates it would take before they would take the next step; he was just happy that he had got this chance.

It was more than he thought he would have after gaining his memories back.

They shared their first kiss in nearly a year during the second date, in which Draco took Harry and Connor to the magical zoo in London. Right in front of the Manticore habitat, shielded with strong wards to prevent the animals from escaping, while Connor watched enraptured how a Manticore cub was playing with his sibling, Draco and Harry turned their heads around at the same moment and stared at each other.

For a moment it seemed like the both of them were holding their breath and it was as if they were the only two in the world; Draco's attention wholly focused on the dark haired man in front of him. Everything else disappeared from his radar; the background noise of other people talking to each other becoming nothing but a distant buzz.

He licked his lips, saw Harry parting his own in his response, and asked, voice rougher than he expected, "Can I – May I kiss you?"

A smile bloomed open on Harry's face and he took a step closer, tilting his head to the left. "I thought you'd never ask," he whispered and then their lips touched.

It was better than Draco remembered it being; the fireworks more intense than the first kiss they had shared years ago – if that was even possible. His hand curled around Harry's neck as he deepened the kiss and not even the scandalized gasp of a mother nearby was enough to make him stop.

Only when his lungs burnt and screamed for air and his mind gained that pleasant light-headedness he had always associated with kissing Harry, did he pull back with a gasp. He met glittering green eyes, pupils definitely bigger than they had been before, and breathed out, feeling like his systems needed to restart.

"Definitely worth the wait," Harry said roughly and let out a breathless chuckle.

Draco smiled back, pressing another soft kiss on slightly swollen lips, before he turned back around in time to see the Manticore cubs scampering off towards their mother. As he followed Harry, who was pushing Connor in his stroller, towards the next animal exhibit, happiness settled like a purring, content cat in his chest.

Yes, they were getting there; one step at a time.

Draco's birthday took place on a Tuesday this year. His friends and family all took off earlier from work to celebrate it in the afternoon. Pansy greeted him with a kiss on the cheek and a grin; Blaise clapped his back; Aunt Andromeda hugged him and pressed a cool kiss on his forehead. Teddy gave him an enthusiastic hug and a bright grin.

A week after he had talked with Harry, he had gone to apologise for his absence to Aunt Andromeda. She had taken it in stride once she heard what had happened and had confided in him that she had told Teddy his cousin had fallen sick to explain his sudden absence. As far as Teddy was concerned, his uncle had been ill in bed for several months and he had expressed his worry about it, handing over several drawings he had made for Draco to "help him get better!"

The drawings had got their own place on the wall in Draco's bedroom, as a reminder that even after all the shit that had happened, he still had his family.

A harried and flushed looking Harry arrived as last one, with a sleeping Connor in his carrier. The five month old had a cherry red nose and dark pinkish cheeks as if he had spent some time crying before falling asleep.

"He was being fussy," Harry explained his absence, blushing as he carefully lowered the carrier on the table the house elves had placed in the garden for this occasion.

"You're here now," Mother smiled, coming over to look at her grandson.

"Thanks for coming," Draco murmured, coming to a halt next to Harry. He felt inexplicably nervous and hid his trembling hands behind his back.

The dark haired man turned to face him and smiled, reaching out to squeeze his left shoulder gently. "Why wouldn't I?" he asked rhetorically before kissing Draco on his mouth in full view of everyone.

Draco felt his cheeks warm, but kissed back eagerly; something settled in his chest as if Harry's bold declaration of their new relationship had given him that last shred of confidence that they would work out that he had been missing until now.

When he pulled back and looked across Harry's shoulder, he saw Pansy sticking up her thumb approvingly in the air and he rolled his eyes, hiding his smile when she smirked.

Draco received many great gifts, like several rare potions books of his father and Blaise, but the award of bearer of the best gift definitely went to Harry. Not only had the man given him some valuable, rare stones which he could use in his potions, and which were difficult to find – "Garin helped me find some of them," Harry explained with a shrug – but his second present contained –

A catalogue of houses on sale.

As Draco stared at the book speechlessly, Harry shifted his foot and cleared his throat, sounding embarrassed when he asked, "I know we haven't talked about this before, but – do you want to live together? We can go look for houses; I already put a check mark next to the ones I think would be good, but of course it's your decision as well and – "

Draco cut off his babbling with a firm kiss, feeling overwhelmed by the pure love he felt for this man. This man, who despite having been insulted and hurt, who had reasons to reject Draco, had still given him a chance. This man, who had given him a family of his own.

This man, who he would love for as long as he lived – and beyond that.

Harry, who was everything to him.

"Yes, I want to live with you," he whispered against Harry's parted lips and warmth spread out inside of him when glittering green eyes met his.

Then they were hugging, sharing a couple of more kisses, while their family and friends cheered.

He couldn't have imagined a better birthday than this one.

They moved into their new house – a bit bigger than their previous one – in August as the blistering sun made them sweat even with Cooling Charms and had them panting on the couch during the evening when they were finally done giving everything its rightful place.

Harry turned to face him, linking their pinkies together, and smiled, a bit tired. "Welcome home," he murmured as Connor laid on his playmat, babbling to himself.

The seven month old baby had been crawling around on his playmat for a while, but was now sitting down, attempting to build a tower out of his multicoloured blocks. They lit up when he touched them and it elicited a shriek of excitement every time.

Draco looked at his son, then at Harry and smiled, feeling the love of his family surrounding him like a blanket. "Yeah, welcome home," he mumbled and they shared a kiss on their new couch.

Everything was slowly falling into its place.

There were still some difficult moments. Not everything could be fixed instantly, not even magic could do that. The both of them still had the occasional nightmare; Draco had woken up a couple of times already to see Harry sitting up straight in bed, staring blankly into the darkness. The hollow look on his face was enough to make Draco's heart clench in pain and guilt and the rest of a night like that was spent in each other's arms, not sleeping, but grounding themselves with each other's presence.

Draco's nightmares had the same reoccurring theme: losing Harry and Connor. Sometimes through an attack, an accident, or through his own doing, but the nightmares ended the same way every time: he lost them. Whenever he woke up, soaked in sweat, from a nightmare like that, he slipped out of bed and spent some time in Connor's room, watching over his sleeping son, reassuring himself that everything was fine. Then he went back to his own bedroom, the room he shared with Harry, and carefully lowered himself back into their bed, gazing at Harry's sleeping form until his eyes grew too heavy and sleep claimed him once more.

They didn't talk about Astoria. Draco had asked about her once, during a windy October evening, when Weasley and Granger had come over to share dinner with them.

Harry had stiffened, hunched over his plate, as his gaze bored holes into it. Weasley had sighed, looking both uncomfortable and chagrined.

"She isn't in Europe anymore," he had admitted with a grimace, stabbing his fork through a steamed carrot viciously. "The Spanish Aurors managed to track her down, but before they could take her in for questioning, she was gone. Nothing indicates she's still in Europe."

"Does this mean she was associated with the band?" Granger had questioned with a heavy frown; his fingers tightening around her glass of water.

"Well, it doesn't look exactly good for her that she doesn't show her face in Great Britain anymore," Weasley had retorted dryly, rolling his shoulders. "I doubt we'll ever find out the truth, though. Whatever she was involved in, she took that information with her when she left."

Knowing her, she wouldn't return to England for a long time, if ever. Had she been involved in the band? Had she been part of stealing his memories and putting the curse on him? Or had it been merely coincidence, had she taken advantage of the fact that Draco had declared himself a free man after the attack?

Draco didn't know and he probably wouldn't ever know the truth unless they managed to find her. He wasn't eager to see her again, though. Part of the band or not, she had been one of the reasons why he had nearly ruined his relationship with Harry forever. He had no desire to see or speak to her ever again.

When they had made love that night, Harry's movements had been rather frantic, his kisses and bites tasting of despair, as if he was afraid that Draco would disappear if he didn't kiss him harder, if his fingers didn't dig down in Draco's muscles, if he didn't grasp him tightly enough against his body.

"I'm not leaving," Draco had murmured afterwards, when Harry had laid panting next to him.

Harry had breathed out slowly; his eyes trained on the ceiling before they had slipped close and a sigh had escaped him. "I know."

Draco had kissed his sweaty temple and had tightened his grip. There wasn't more that he could do, but prove that he meant it.

They never talked about Astoria again after that.

The diamond glittered in the sunlight, casting a hue of brilliant colours around it. It was set in a thick, silver band; on the inside of it, the symbol of eternity had been carefully etched into the metal.

Grey eyes studied the ring intently, holding it up in the light so that it shone even brighter.

Today it was exactly a year since they had got together for the second time. The band had tried to pry them apart and had nearly succeeded, but they had fought for each other.

Now here they were: more in love than ever before.

The past year hadn't been easy with the nightmares, the hurt, the rebuilding of the trust between them. They had managed to get past them, though. They were getting past their guilt, reminding each other daily that they loved each other. Their love had been strong enough to survive despite the hurdles it had gone through.

He had known it before, but this had just solidified his belief: what he had with Harry was everything; it was forever. They had rebuilt their relationship from the scraps it had been ripped into and they had come out stronger than ever before.

"Draco? Are you coming down? Connor is becoming impatient," Harry called from downstairs.

They would be going to the park to have a picnic there and have fun with their son. Tonight Connor would be having a sleep over at his grandparents' manor, while his parents would go out to celebrate their one year anniversary.

Tonight would also be the evening Draco would go down on one knee once more and ask Harry to marry him. Hopefully Harry's answer would be the same as the first time.

Judging by the fact that he had kept Draco's bracelet and engagement ring, however, Draco had a good feeling about it.

"Draco?"

"Yes, I'm coming!" he called back and after casting another glance at the diamond ring, he carefully returned it to its box and hid it in one of the drawers of his desk, where it would wait until tonight.

Then he went downstairs, ready to spend another day with his lover and his son.

Harry quirked an eyebrow at seeing Draco's small smile and peered at him suspiciously. "What are you thinking about?"

"Just how much I love you," Draco smiled wider and kissed Harry swiftly on his mouth, before bending down and sweeping Connor off the floor, placing him on his hip, while the boy shrieked and laughed, gripping Draco's shirt between his chubby fingers.

Harry's suspicious frown melted into a soft smile and he squeezed Draco's arm softly. "I love you too. Now come on, before the good spots are taken!"

Yes, what he had with Harry was everything. They had got there, despite the odds.

He couldn't wait to spend the rest of forever with him. This time, everything would be all right.

(Harry did end up saying yes. Draco would deny it for the rest of his life, but Harry's enthusiastic reply had some tears slipping down his cheeks. That didn't matter, though, when his ring was back around Harry's finger.

Where it belonged and would soon be joined by their wedding rings.

This time nothing would stop them.)

The End

AN2: So we've finally reached the end of this story. This was supposed to be just a oneshot, but turned out quite a bit longer than I anticipated ... I hope you liked reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

I also hope that you liked how I wrote the relationship between Draco and Harry. I know a lot of you were worried about how they would manage to resolve things between them and I hope I did them justice. It definitely wasn't an easy chapter to write - the most difficult one of them all, actually, but I hope I didn't screw up too badly.

For the last time: please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.

I hope to see you all back in my future stories!

Cuddles

Melissa

P.S. For more information about my upcoming and posted stories, please visit my profile.