Draco had been awake for a few minutes, watching Harry still asleep. He was turned away from him, and Draco could clearly see the tattoos across his back, he had traced those drawings himself once. The golden snitch that stretched from one shoulder to the other, the stag antlers with lilies, the small pile of books with a crown hanging over them, the phases of the moon, and the constellation of Sirius.
It was beautiful, how Harry had chosen to honor everyone he loved on his skin, permanently. Draco had wondered why there was nothing representing Teddy, until he realized Harry was probably waiting for the boy to grow a little before choosing something that would truly represent him. He also found himself wondering what would one day represent little James.
He ran a hand over the round belly, thirty-four weeks now. The birth was getting close, and both he and Harry were growing more nervous by the day. Harry had cried twice that week: once out of fear of doing something wrong during labor, something that could hurt James, and once because he wanted Lily and James to be with him in that moment.
He was also struggling to find a comfortable position to sleep. Mrs. Weasley had given him a long pillow, almost Harry's own height, and now he slept hugging it, using it to support his belly. That was how he was now, resting peacefully. Andromeda had stopped by to pick up Teddy before Draco arrived at Grimmauld Place, so they were alone.
One thing had led to another, and now Harry slept completely naked, looking relaxed, not a trace of sweat or release left, Draco had cleaned him. He couldn't remember much about their first time together, but now Draco could say with certainty that it had been mind-blowing. Being inside Harry, feeling him tighten so deliciously around him, seeing him utterly open and surrendered, moaning, begging, crying for him, Harry was truly extraordinary.
He pressed a kiss to Harry's surprisingly soft hair and got up, looking for his clothes and dressing quietly. He walked to the bedroom window and opened it, letting Orion, his eagle owl, fly in. The bird landed on Harry's bedside table, watching the sleeping man.
"Take care of him for me, will you?" Draco whispered, stroking the feathers on the owl's chest. Orion closed his eyes as if enjoying the touch. Draco then leaned down to Harry, kissing his cheek. "Sweetheart, I have to go," he murmured, watching as those beautiful green eyes fluttered open.
"What?" Harry asked, still dazed.
"I'm going to take care of that thing today, remember?" Draco said, and it took Harry a few seconds before he nodded. "I just didn't want you to wake up and find me gone," he explained, kissing his forehead. "But I'll be back soon," he promised, and Harry nodded, eyes closing again.
"Don't take too long," Harry mumbled, and Draco smiled, finding him adorable.
"I won't, sweetheart," he said, kissing his temple before leaving the room.
He went downstairs and found Kreacher wandering the sitting room. The elf bowed when he saw Draco. It amused Draco how the creature showed him respect but didn't follow all his orders, and yet had no respect at all for Harry, though he obeyed him instantly, with just a snap of his fingers.
"If you hear him complain about any discomfort, come find me immediately," Draco instructed.
"Yes, Master Malfoy," the elf said with a nod.
Draco stepped outside, not bothering to lock the door, he knew Kreacher would handle it. He looked down at the photograph Granger had given him and the address written on the back, pictured the image in his mind, and Apparated.
All the houses were the same, plain, dull, and lacking any elegance, but Draco knew which one it was by the number on the mailbox and the unmistakable sight of Granger's bushy hair and Weasley's red head.
He took a deep breath and walked toward them, noticing that they were dressed in Muggle clothes, just as he had been instructed to. Granger had said something about trying not to frighten them too much, hoping it would make things go more smoothly.
"Oh, Malfoy," Granger greeted, and Weasley turned to look at him.
"Keep your wand out of reach," was all he said, and Draco obeyed, he couldn't risk causing Harry any stress at this stage of the pregnancy.
"Shall we?" Granger asked, and Draco nodded, following her to the door. He watched her take a deep breath before knocking and stepping back.
The door was opened by a boy about their age, tall like Draco and Weasley, blond and heavyset. He looked at them in confusion; his eyes landed on Weasley, and then they widened. He stepped back and opened the door wider to let them in.
"Did something happen to Harry?" he asked, sounding genuinely worried, and Draco was taken aback, that wasn't what he had expected.
"Oh, actually he's fine, but we needed to talk to your mum," Weasley said, and the boy swallowed hard.
"Wow, she's going to hate this," he said with a nervous laugh. "She should be home soon, but are you sure I can't help instead?" he asked, clearly anxious. "You know she's not exactly your biggest fan," he added, looking only at Weasley, seeming not to recognize Granger.
"Well, we need to know if she kept anything that belonged to Lily, your aunt," he explained, and the boy closed his eyes for a few seconds.
"Damn it, then it'll have to be with her," he muttered, rubbing his face in frustration. "Do you want some tea while you wait?" he asked, turning toward the kitchen.
"I'd love some," Granger said, following him.
Draco looked around; the wallpaper was as tacky as the carpet, and there were Muggle objects and gadgets everywhere. He noticed Weasley observing too and stepped a bit closer to him.
"That's the cousin?" he whispered, and Weasley nodded.
"Yeah. He and Harry made peace before the war, and they even hung out a few times during the holidays before eighth year," he whispered back. "I've called here to talk to Harry when we were younger, came here with my family to pick him up, and even rescued him once, so they know me," he explained, walking after Granger, with Draco following.
"He doesn't seem that bad," Draco murmured, and Weasley glanced at him.
"He's not, not anymore, but he used to be, and he was a real piece of work," Weasley said quietly.
"If Harry's fine, why didn't he come?" the boy asked.
"You know how the wizarding world works a bit differently, right?" Granger said.
They had talked with Harry about whether or not to tell them about the pregnancy, and he had agreed to tell only his cousin, if they got a chance to speak with him alone. He didn't want his aunt and uncle to know.
"Yeah, I had to get a pig's tail surgically removed when I was eleven," he said, and Weasley smiled.
"Well," Granger began, "some men can get pregnant, magically, if they're with another man," she explained, and the boy went pale before turning to look at Draco.
"You got my cousin pregnant, didn't you?" he asked, sounding alarmed. "I know Ron, and I've heard about Hermione, but I have no idea who you are," he said, agitated.
"Yes," he agreed, extending his hand. "Draco Malfoy," he said politely, and the boy shook it.
"Dudley Dursley," he introduced himself. Draco found the name amusing. "But Harry's okay, right?" he asked.
"Yes, he is. We just didn't want to stress him by having him come here," Weasley answered, and Dursley nodded.
"Yeah, that's for the best," he agreed. "Look, if my mum kept anything of Lily's, it should be in the attic," he said, pouring a cup of tea for Granger. "Harry left a few things behind, Mum threw everything into his old room," he added.
"You call that a room?" Weasley asked, and Dursley looked embarrassed.
"Where is it?" Draco asked, curious. The Muggle got up and walked to the door under the stairs, opening it.
Draco looked inside, it was tiny. He couldn't step in without stooping. He could see where a mattress had once been, and there were a few old, broken, dull toys scattered around. It was dark, dusty, smelled of mold, and was full of spiders.
"That was Harry's room?" Draco asked, feeling sick.
"Until he was eleven, yeah," Dursley confirmed. "Then my parents moved him to a room upstairs," he said. Draco looked at him, and his expression must have been severe, because the boy stepped back. "I was a kid too," he said quickly. "I just copied my parents' behavior. I'm ashamed of it, and I've already apologized to Harry."
Draco saw himself in him, doing something horrible just to follow his parents' lead. But that boy hadn't joined a supremacist group or fought on the wrong side of a war. Draco had no right to feel anger toward Dursley, knowing he had done far worse, and for similar reasons.
"I know. It's just… disgusting to imagine Harry in there," he said, taking a deep breath.
"My dad used to lock all of your school stuff in here during holidays, after Harry moved upstairs," Dursley explained, and Draco had to close his eyes and breathe through his nose. "He really is doing okay now, isn't he?"
"Yes," Draco said softly. "He's got a big, comfortable house. Our baby already has a room ready, and he's got a godson who practically lives with him." He clung to the thought of Harry being safe and comfortable.
"Does the baby have a name yet?" Dursley asked, and Draco looked back at him.
"James," he said, a small smile tugging at his lips, he couldn't think of their son without smiling.
"After his dad," the boy said, and Draco nodded.
The front door made a noise, and before it even opened, Granger and Weasley were already back at his side. Then a tall, extremely thin blonde woman came in, her expression bitter, followed by a short, heavy man with a red face.
"Dudley, I didn't know we had company," the woman said, it was Harry's aunt, Lily's sister.
"Mum, they're Harry's friends," Dursley said, and both adults' expressions immediately soured into scowls.
The man entered fully, slamming the door behind them. He crossed his arms, face reddening even more as he glared at them from head to toe, pure disgust in his expression, the same look Draco's father used to give Muggles.
"What is it? Did that freak finally die?" the man asked, and Draco instinctively reached for where his wand usually was, only to find it missing, and took a deep breath.
"Dad, please," Dursley warned.
"We need something that belonged to your sister," Granger said, looking at the woman.
"Why on earth would you think I kept anything from that freak? I was kind enough to raise her brat when she blew herself up," she snapped, and Draco lost his patience.
"Raise him? You kept a child locked in a cupboard, for Merlin's sake," Draco ran a hand through his hair, irritated. "We're not leaving until you hand over everything that ever belonged to Lily Evans Potter," he said firmly.
"Who do you think you are, barging into my house?" the man shouted, stepping forward, but Weasley lifted his wand at him, making him stop.
"Shut up, Vernon. No one's talking to you. Sit your arse down before I give you a pig snout to match your manners," he said sharply, and at that moment, Draco found himself rather liking him.
"The belongings, Petunia," Granger repeated, and the woman swallowed hard.
"In the attic," she said, stepping aside to let them pass.
Granger went up first, then Weasley. Draco gestured for that despicable woman to go ahead, then followed her. She pulled down a ceiling hatch, and a narrow ladder unfolded. She climbed up first, and then they followed.
Draco grimaced at the dust up there, pulling out his wand to cast a quick spell, not to clean, just to stop the dust from swirling. He noticed the woman's eyes widen when he took out the wand, but she turned on the attic light and walked toward a stack of boxes by the wall.
She moved a few aside, only to reach one older than the rest, ripped, thick with dust, and dragged it closer, setting it on the floor in front of Draco.
"You've had this all these years and never gave Harry a thing?" Granger asked.
"He never asked," the woman dared to reply.
"You're lucky we promised not to hurt you, because if it were up to me, you'd be part of the dust up here," Draco said, watching her swallow hard.
"Just take what you need from the box and get out," she ordered, voice sharp and arrogant.
"No, we're taking the box," Weasley said, levitating it.
"That's mine!" the woman shouted.
"No, that was your sister's, and she's been dead nearly eighteen years," Granger shot back.
"And now it belongs to her son," Draco added, walking out of that filthy attic.
Granger and Weasley followed him, the cardboard box floating beside them. His stomach churned as he thought about everything he knew of Harry's childhood, everything he'd spent years imagining it wasn't. He'd thought Harry grew up showered in affection, spoiled with everything he wanted. But in truth, he'd been locked in a cupboard, forced to clean the entire house alone, starving, surviving on scraps from the meals he had to cook for those pigs.
He left the house without looking back, crossed the street, and fell to his knees on the sidewalk, vomiting into the grass. He shut his eyes, fighting the urge to cry, and felt someone rub his back. He gagged again before sitting down on the ground.
"It's okay," came Granger's voice, and she handed him a bottle of water. He took it gratefully, gulping down several mouthfuls.
"How could they?" he asked, struggling to hold back tears.
Harry, his beloved Harry, with that contagious laugh, that incredible sense of humor, those eyes so bright they almost glowed. How could that boy have grown up in a place like that?
"Come on, Draco, I think we all want to see Harry," Weasley said, and Draco couldn't even process hearing his first name used like that.
A firm hand gripped his arm, and a moment later came the familiar pull of Side-Along Apparition. Then he was standing before the door of Grimmauld Place. He didn't think, just opened the door and rushed inside.
Harry stood up from the couch, startled. He'd been watching something on the television, dressed in comfortable clothes, eating a slice of cake.
Draco pulled him into his arms, running his fingers through his soft curls, inhaling the scent of his shampoo, feeling the steady hum of his magic. He pressed a kiss to the top of Harry's head, then to his forehead, before cupping his face and meeting those hypnotic green eyes, kissing his lips briefly.
He sank to his knees before him, resting his forehead against Harry's stomach, caressing and kissing the spot, unable to imagine what he'd do if James ever went through the things Harry had.
"Darling, what happened?" Harry's tender, worried voice reached him, and Draco stood, brushing a curl from his forehead.
"He saw the cupboard," Weasley said quietly.
Harry hugged him, and Draco held him back tightly, trying to calm down. Harry was here, safe, warm, and alive in his arms.
"I'm so sorry, Sweetheart," he whispered.
"Stop it. It's fine, I'm over it," Harry said softly.
Draco didn't answer, because he knew that was a lie. Harry hadn't moved on. If he had, he wouldn't still struggle with an eating disorder. How many of Harry's habits and fears were scars from that house? He kissed Harry's hair a few more times, slowly piecing himself back together.
"We found a box," Granger said, pointing to the cardboard box. Harry squeezed Draco's hand, looking nervous.
Granger came closer, placing the box on the coffee table. Harry sat down on the couch again, tugging Draco's hand so he'd sit beside him. She pushed the box closer and sat opposite them, while Weasley took a seat to Harry's side.
"You don't have to open it if you're not ready, Sweetheart," Draco murmured, rubbing his back. But Harry shook his head and began to open the box.
He drew his wand, casting a spell to clear the dust and another to dispel mold, then leaned forward.
The first thing he pulled out was a Gryffindor scarf. He lifted it to his nose, breathed in, and began to cry.
Draco held him close, letting Harry rest against his chest. From there, Draco could smell the faint sweetness coming from the fabric. And then realization struck, this was the first time Harry had ever smelled his mother.
"I wish she were here," he heard Harry whisper, and Draco could only kiss his hair, trying to soothe him.
"Do you want me to cast a spell so the scent stays?" Granger asked, and Harry nodded, looking almost desperate. He handed her the scarf, then turned back to the box.
He took out a small jewelry box and opened it. Inside were a pair of small silver hoops, a necklace with a lily pendant, and a pair of wedding rings. Bloody hell, it was his parents' wedding rings.
How could that woman have the audacity to hide these things from Harry?
Harry handed Draco the jewelry box, removed the black hoop from his pierced ear, set it on the table, and replaced it with his mother's silver one, slightly larger. He closed the box and set it down too.
"Pride and Prejudice," he whispered, pulling a hardback book from the box, and Granger let out a small laugh.
"You're going to read it now?" she asked, and Harry smiled through tears, hugging the book.
The next thing he pulled out was a photo album, but he only placed it beside him, he probably wanted to see what else was there before opening it. Harry was already crying, and Draco saw Weasley's eyes glisten. He was certain that both he and Granger would end up crying once Harry opened that album.
There were two small boxes, Draco thought they were cassette tapes, but he wasn't sure; Muggle objects often confused him.
"Led Zeppelin and Queen," Draco murmured, tracing the delicate handwriting on the labels, his mother's handwriting.
Harry took out a white ribbon, likely for her hair, a prefect's badge, and then an envelope. He opened it, and laughed, disbelieving.
"What is it?" Weasley asked.
"Mum kept all her report cards," he said, pulling out the papers.
As Harry looked through them, Draco realized she had been brilliant. By the second parchment, he began to suspect something but waited until Harry finished. Each time he was done with one, he passed it to Granger.
Lily J. Evans – Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Report Card
1st Year (1971–1972)
Charms: E
Potions: O
Transfiguration: E
Defense Against the Dark Arts: A
Herbology: E
Astronomy: A
History of Magic: E
2nd Year (1972–1973)
Charms: O
Potions: O
Transfiguration: E
Defense Against the Dark Arts: E
Herbology: E
History of Magic: O
Astronomy: A
Disciplinary Note:
Verbal warning for "responding aggressively" to a Slytherin classmate during class.
3rd Year (1973–1974)
Charms: O
Potions: O
Transfiguration: E
Defense Against the Dark Arts: E
Herbology: E
History of Magic: O
Ancient Runes: E
Arithmancy: O
Astronomy: A
Disciplinary Note:
Minor warning for arguing with another student after being insulted ("nosy Mudblood").
4th Year (1974–1975)
Charms: O
Potions: O
Transfiguration: E
Defense Against the Dark Arts: E
Herbology: E
History of Magic: O
Ancient Runes: E
Arithmancy: O
Disciplinary Notes:
Formal warning for wandering the castle after curfew.
Minor warning for a heated argument in the common room ("use of improper language toward a fellow student").
5th Year (1975–1976) — O.W.L.s
Charms: O
Potions: O
Transfiguration: E
Defense Against the Dark Arts: O
Herbology: E
History of Magic: O
Ancient Runes: E
Arithmancy: O
Recorded Warnings:
Formal warning for unauthorized entry into the Restricted Section of the library.
Serious warning for casting an offensive spell at a Slytherin student (after being called a "Mudblood").
Mitigating circumstances acknowledged by McGonagall.
"An understandable but unacceptable emotional reaction." — Dumbledore
Verbal warning for "prolonged and loud argument" in the main corridor during break.
6th Year (1976–1977)
Charms: O
Potions: O
Transfiguration: E
Arithmancy: O
Ancient Runes: E
History of Magic: O
Defense Against the Dark Arts: O
Disciplinary Notes:
Minor warning for arguing with Sirius Black ("differences of opinion on defensive methods").
Informal note by McGonagall: "Knocked a Slytherin unconscious after he made a remark about 'mixing blood.'"
7th Year (1977–1978)
Charms: O
Potions: O
Transfiguration: E
Arithmancy: O
Ancient Runes: E
History of Magic: O
Defense Against the Dark Arts: O
Disciplinary Notes:
Formal warning for "overly heated argument" with Severus Snape, calling him a "half-blood hypocrite and blood supremacist."
Formal warning (later revoked) for "raising her wand at a group of Slytherins" during an incident in the north corridor.
Dumbledore's note: "No spells were cast, but the recorded magical energy was considerable."
Appointment Letter
Dear Miss Evans,
We are pleased to inform you of your appointment as Gryffindor Prefect.
Your academic excellence and sense of justice make you deserving of this role.
We trust you will use your positive influence to promote discipline and respect, even in moments when your natural temper may be tested.
Sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress and Head of Gryffindor House
Appointment Letter
Dear Miss Evans,
In recognition of your intelligence, courage, and leadership, we are delighted to appoint you as Head Girl of Hogwarts for the upcoming school year.
Few students show as much passion for truth and justice as you do. It is precisely that fire, when guided by reason, that inspires greatness in others.
May you continue to be an example, and may you learn that strength and calm can coexist.
Sincerely,
Albus Dumbledore
"Sweetheart, I think you inherited your mother's temper," Draco said, catching those green eyes fixed on him.
"What?" Harry asked, confused.
"On the back are all the warnings she got. You've done everything she did," Draco explained, showing him the note from her seventh year.
"She swore at Snape," Harry said, astonished, laughing, and Draco didn't even mind that it was about his late godfather. He wouldn't have minded if it had been about him, as long as Harry smiled like that.
"Breaking into the Restricted Section, sounds familiar," Granger said with a smile, and Harry wiped his tears, laughing.
"Someone once told me I got my knack for trouble from my dad," he murmured.
"And definitely your mum's temper," Weasley added. "Mate, those are just the things she got caught for. Imagine what didn't make it on record." He chuckled, and Harry laughed again, eyes watery.
"I can't keep looking," he whispered, brushing away his tears.
"It's okay, Harry. Read the rest when you feel calmer," Granger said gently, and Draco pressed a kiss to his temple.
Weasley and Granger began to put the things back in the box, setting it beside the television, while Harry drew in on himself, quiet. Draco slipped an arm around his shoulders, fingers running through his soft, messy hair, the other hand resting on his round belly.
How Draco loved him.