Chapter 6
Harry didn’t leave quietly.
He walked out of the hospital room because Draco told him to, but he didn’t go far. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t.
Because if he let Draco slip away now, it would be over. And losing Draco—losing their family—was something Harry could not accept.
—
For days, Harry tried to reach Draco.
He sent letters. No response.
He tried calling through the Floo. Narcissa blocked him.
He showed up at the manor. The wards threw him out.
It was like Draco had shut the door on him completely, and Harry—Harry was losing his mind.
Because he knew he had messed up.
One night. One mistake. That was all it had taken to destroy the best thing in his life.
He had been drunk. Devastated. It was after a fight—his first real fight with Draco since they’d been married. Stupid things had been said. Harry had stormed out, gone to a pub, drowned himself in firewhisky. And then she had been there. An old classmate, someone he barely knew, someone who had comforted him in all the wrong ways.
He hadn’t even remembered it until she showed up nearly two years later. With a child.
His child.
Harry hadn’t known what to do. He had been sick with guilt, but more than that, he had been terrified. How could he tell Draco? How could he explain something so awful?
And then there was the boy.
Harry had looked into those green eyes—his green eyes—and he couldn’t turn away. He couldn’t be like the Dursleys, who had ignored and resented him his whole life.
So he had tried to do the right thing.
Tried to be a father.
Tried to support the child without destroying his family.
But in the end, he had lost Draco anyway.
—
Two weeks passed.
Two weeks without Draco’s voice, without Draco’s touch, without seeing his home.
Harry barely functioned. He went to work, came home to an empty house, sat in the nursery, and stared at Orion’s crib, remembering the way Draco used to hum lullabies to their son.
He couldn’t live like this.
So one evening, Harry did the only thing he could think of.
He went to Malfoy Manor.
The wards tried to keep him out, but Harry had always been stubborn. He forced his magic through, cracking an opening just big enough to push himself inside before they sealed again.
"Oi!" Pansy’s voice rang through the foyer. "What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?"
Harry barely looked at her. His eyes were locked on the staircase—on him.
Draco stood at the top of the stairs, pale and exhausted, wrapped in a silk dressing gown. His grip on the railing tightened as he saw Harry, his expression unreadable.
Harry’s heart clenched. "Draco."
Draco’s jaw twitched. "Leave."
Harry shook his head. "No."
Pansy groaned. "Oh, for Merlin’s sake—"
"Stay out of it, Pans," Harry snapped, his eyes never leaving Draco’s. "This is between us."
Draco’s fingers curled around the railing. "There is no us."
"Yes, there is!" Harry’s voice cracked. "There will always be an us!"
Draco flinched like the words hurt him. Harry swallowed hard, stepping closer.
"Draco," he murmured. "I love you. I have only ever loved you."
Draco let out a sharp breath, his eyes flashing with pain. "Then why did you do it?"
Harry’s throat tightened. "I don’t know." His voice was hoarse. "I was drunk, I was stupid—I made the worst mistake of my life."
Draco shook his head, his fingers gripping the fabric of his sleeve. "And now you have a child."
Harry exhaled shakily. "Yes."
"With her."
"No." Harry stepped forward, desperate. "Not with her. The boy—yes. But her? Draco, she means nothing to me. She never has."
Draco’s breathing was unsteady.
Harry took another step. "You are my home. You are my love. I don’t care about anyone else—I never have, I never will. Please, Draco, please don’t let this be the end of us."
Draco closed his eyes for a long moment. When he opened them, they were full of anguish. "I don’t know if I can forgive you."
Harry’s heart clenched, but he nodded. "Then don’t. Not yet. Just… let me prove it to you. Let me fight for you."
Draco hesitated.
For the first time since this nightmare began, Harry saw something flicker in his gaze—something other than pain.
A small, hesitant crack in the walls Draco had built.
And Harry clung to it with everything he had.