Golden light filtered in through the kitchen window as Harry sat down for breakfast. It was quiet. His children were all at Hogwarts, hopefully not causing too much ruckus. Draco had still been asleep when Harry had gotten up , and after two years of dating Harry knew better than to wake his boyfriend.
Harry hummed as he puttered around the kitchen, making himself some toast and a cup of tea. Finally he sat down at his favourite spot at the kitchen table. He blew across his tea to cool it down before taking a sip and propped up The Quibbler against the tea pot. He was just reading something rather interesting if bizarre about the proper handling of Nifflers when there was a tap at the window. It was James’ owl, which had names Fergus, for reasons Harry had yet to understand. It was carrying a bright red letter.
Harry sighed and let the owl in. Carefully he extracted the howler from its claws and made sure the kitchen door was closed. He cast a silencing spell just to be sure. The last time James had sent him a howler it had woken Draco, which had incidentally been much worse than the howler itself.
Carefully Harry opened the letter and a split second later James' voice echoed so loud in the kitchen the cabinets rattled. “YOU STOLE A DRAGON AND FLEW IT OUT OF GRINGOTTS. YOU STOLE. A. DRAGON. AND FLEW IT. THROUGH THE ROOF. OF GRINGOTTS WIZARDING BANK.” Then there was a pause. Harry had not been looking forward to the day James found out about that. James had a knack for finding out embarrassing stuff that had happened to Harry in his school years. Or after Harry mused, remembering the incident well.
“YOU STOLE A DRAGON AND I GOT YELLED AT WHEN I BORROWED MUM’S FIREBOLT.” James' voice echoed through the kitchen, tone indignant. Harry also remembered that particular incident. When James had been nine he had not exactly borrowed Ginny’s firebolt, like he always claimed he had. He had taken it without asking, full well knowing that none of his parents would have allowed it.
James had wanted to ride a real broom without any height restrictions, like the children broom had he owned. Harry also remembered that James had fallen through the roof of Molly and Arthurs shed when he had fallen off of the broom, because he was simply too small to manoeuvre it properly. Luckily James had emerged from the rubble nearly unscathed, with a cut on his forehead and a broken wrist.
Considering that James was currently in his last year at Hogwarts, this incident nearly eight years ago, it seemed rather too long a time ago to Harry to bring it up again.
The howler had been suspiciously quiet for a few seconds. Then there was a sharp intake of breath. “UNACCEPTABLE!”James screeched. Harry winced. Why were his children this dramatic? “
“I WILL BE TAKING REPARATIONS IN FORM OF SWEETS.”, James voice announced triumphantly, echoing through Harry’S kitchen. Harry sighed again, even though it couldn’t be heard over James yelling. Of course that would be the logical conclusion James would have. “LOTS OF SWEETS!”, James yelled. Then his voice went back to normal. “Lily and Al say hi. I will not be sharing with them.” Then the letter hissed at Harry and exploded into miniscule particles of red glitter.
The door to the kitchen opened and Draco came in. He was wearing one of Harry’s shirts and his hair was all soft and mussed up from sleeping. Harry smiled at him fondly. Even after two years he still couldn’t quite believe that he got to see Draco like this. “Exciting morning?”, Draco asked as he spotted the glitter that was covering the kitchen table, the chairs and had even managed to be dusted lightly across Harry’s face. “Haha.”, Harry said, sidestepping the mess to give Draco a kiss. “James found out about the dragon.”, he said, gesturing to the chaos. “Oh.”, Draco said mildly, but Harry could see the amused curl in the corner of his mouth and the mirth dancing in his eyes. “It’s not funny," Harry said helplessly. Draco just smiled at him and kissed him on the cheek. “Whatever you say, love!”
—-
“...and then he had the audacity to demand reparations in sweets.”, Harry said indignantly. It was Wednesday Night and Harry and Draco were meeting Ron and Hermione at the Leaky Cauldron for dinner like they did every week.
Ron tried his best to look sympathetic. “You knew that day would come mate. Just be grateful it wasn’t earlier.” Harry groaned. This was not helpful. Hermione frowned at Ron and gently patted Harry’s hand. “Maybe it helps if you explain the circumstances to him.” ,she said gently.
Ron snorted into his pint. “Yes Harry, why don’t you tell your son that the only reason you flew a dragon through the roof of Gringotts is because you broke into it in the first place. That’ll sort this right out.”
Hermione glared at her husband. “That is not what I meant and you know it!” She turned to Harry. “Don’t you listen to him. Explain about the horcruxes and you know…”, here her eyes flickered to Draco. Who seemed remarkably unperturbed and very dryly said: “Voldemort.”
“Yes.”, Hermione said a bit breathlessly. “Him.” Harry sighed again. “I don’t know. I don’t think this will work.”
Draco smiled at him gently and took Harry’s hand. He soothingly ran his thumb over Harry’s knuckles. “You know, I think James will be obsessed with this for the next month or so and then something else will catch his attention. This is just him good naturedly messing with you because you constantly tell him to behave.” Harry smiled weakly at him. How did Draco always know what to say to make Harry feel less of a failure when it came to parenting.
“And besides,”, Draco continued. “It could be worse.” Ron snorted again. “I don’t see how this could get any worse.” Hermione hissed “Ronald” and elbowed him in the side.
Draco gazed at Ron evenly, his thumb, which was still caressing Harry’s knuckles, had started to tremble. “Harry does not have to worry about his son finding out that he helped Death Eaters break into Hogwarts, that he was tasked to kill Albus Dumbledoor and nearly did. Harry’s children don’t have a father who took the Dark Mark at sixteen, bearing witness to people being tortured, killed and eaten by gigantic snakes.” Draco’s eyes had glazed over as he talked and he was trembling.
Ron’s face flushed bright red and he stared into his pint obviously uncomfortable. He opened his mouth, glanced up at Draco and helplessly shrugged, lost for words.
“Draco, darling, none of that matters now, this is not who you are, this does not define you. And Scorpius knows that.”, Harry said gently. “Like you said, you were sixteen. You were a child, you didn’t have any choice.”
“You were sixteen too, and evidently you chose the right side!” Angry tears were glistening in Draco’s eyes. “Because Harry had help.”, Hermione reminded him. “Something no one ever offered you, which we should have.”
Harry’s heart broke at the look on Draco’s face. “You know what.”, he said, as an idea formed in his mind. “We can sit all the kids down and tell them together. We’ll tell them that I wasn’t always the golden boy people make me out to be and that you weren’t a villain. That we were just frightened kids that did the best with the circumstances we were given.” Harry tried smiling reassuringly at Draco, who smiled back a little wobbly.
“You would do that for me?”, he asked incredulously. Harry’s eyes blinked owlishly behind his glasses. “I’d do anything for you Draco.”
Before he knew it Harry had a lap full of sobbing Draco. Harry looked over Draco’s shoulder at Hermione while gently stroking his boyfriend’s back. “Did I say something wrong?”, he asked her, bewildered. “Oh Harry.”, Hermione sighed at him fondly.
“No you idiot.”, Draco said and kissed him wetly. “You said something entirely right.”