What's in a memory?

Chapter Twelve

+

"What both of us?" Harry asked incredulous.

No way. No effing way.

At this, Malfoy stood up, jogging the table. Giving Harry the most disgusted look in all their years of rivalry, then darting out the kitchen in a blur.

Hermione jerked up to her feet as well. She was about to dart after him, when Ron gave her a look.

“I've got him” Ron said meaningfully, before he followed after Draco, two steps at a time.

Once both sets of footsteps faded into the first and second level. Hermione turned back to Harry, but she looked very unsettled.

Harry felt an ache in his chest.

“Did I just upset him?” He asked, stupidly.

“Yes." Stated simply, her face still cringed, her feet poised to jog up the stairs at the slightest disturbance.

“But I didn't even say anything!?” Harry argued. How could he have possibly pissed him off?

Hermione sighed. This wouldn't be easy.

“Harry, You've... " She licked her lips, starting again, "You've implied that Draco shouldn't be a parent to his child. Can you see why that would upset him?”

“I guess." Harry sucked in a breath, “But Mione he's not a dad. And Teddy's certainly not his child!”

Harry had a growing possessive feeling when it came to Teddy. Harry was chosen to be his godfather. Not Draco bloody Malfoy.

He was Harry's.

“Oh Harry.” Hermione looked down at her lap.

“What? He's not!” Harry fumbled a little under her stare, before instating: "Remus! Remus is his dad."

Feeling the anger grow inside. Letting that feeling fester, he yelled out,  "And I'm his godfather!"

Harry looked at the empty doorway, trying to find the words to explain this feeling in his chest. "I mean, He's just...”

Malfoy? His brain supplied.

His second cousin? He rationalised.

He's just...

“He's your husband.” Hermione grounded.

Harry deflated. “Right” He once again looked down again at his empty ring finger.

He had a husband. Malfoy was his husband.

Hermione spoke gentler now. “And when you … when you decided that, you also decided that Teddy would be his too.”

She spoke almost as one would to a child. 

“Oh” Harry wheezed. He supposed he had done that. When he... he married him.

Hermione moved around to his side of the table.

"You're a family.”

Harry's eyes watered at the term, 'A family'.

“You, Draco, and Teddy." She patted his arm in comfort, knowing the weight of her words and the effect they would have on Harry. 

Harry was so desperate for a family in his youth and he'd found one in Ron and Hermione, and the Weasley's. But it wasn't the same, she knew, than creating one of your own. 

"And as for Ron and myself, we're his aunt and uncle. I love being that for him. And my children? they're like your niece and nephew. Do you get it Harry? Family means something a little more, don't you think?”

Harry let that sink in.

She pressed at his confused face, “Like Dudley, he's your cousin but he's not... " She pinched her lips together trying to find the correct words, "well he's not like Ron, is he?”

“Ron's my best mate” Harry stated. That he knew.

“And I'm...?” Hermione nudged. 

“You're my best friend.”

He'd have thought that was obvious. He wasn't showing favouritism. Comparing Ron and Hermione was like comparing satsumas and tangerines. Like comparing cocoa and chocolate powder.

He needed both Ron and 'Mione.

His best mateand his best friend.

“But you wouldn't kiss me, would you?” Harry was confused by this non sequitur. But immediately answered.

“What, no! You're like my sister.” Gross.

Hermione sighed in relief. Now we're getting somewhere.

“Exactly!" She smiled, "And Ron?”

“Ew, no offense Hermione but that'd be like kissing my... Oh”

“Do you get it now Harry?” She tried to give her best smile. 

“Oh so you mean, it's like how Molly mother's eyeryone even if she's not actually our mum?” He asked with growing confidence.

“Yes, Harry!” Smiling now he seems to be getting it. “Yes, and in the same way as Molly, Draco is Teddy's dad. Just like you.”

Harry felt like he'd turned a lightbulb on just for it to immediately burst.

“Oh” Shit. “Fuck, I messed up didn't I?”

“Yes Harry.” She grimaced, looking towards the exit.

“Should I...?” Harry asked, indicating upstairs.

“Erm...” She looked conflicted.

“I'm just gonna apologise, I did mean to imply that he was a bad caregiver, S' just weird ya know?”

“I can imagine. You don't share well Harry.” 

“I do so!”

“No Harry, you don't. And Teddy's... Teddy's yours. Draco gets it too.”

“Gets what?”

“He feels the same way. You feel threatened that he's gonna take your family away. And he's worried you'll do the same.”

“Isn't it exhausting being right all the time?” Harry sighed.

“Come on, lets go make sure my husband hasn't convinced your husband to do something rash.”

+

Upstairs, Draco was pacing the living room. He'd sent a hex to spell everything off the coffee table and the mantle by the time Ron had made it up to him. 

Draco paced up and down the room, with Ron supervising, ensuring Malfoy wasn't about to do anything potentially dangerous. 

"I can't believe" Draco muttered. "He just..urgh" He sent another flying hex to smash a lamp's lightbulb. 

"Draco, mate, do you want to talk about it?" Ron offered. 

"You don't have to watch me like one of your criminals." Draco pointed his wand at the fireplace. "Incendio."

"Well I do if you're still wheelding fire charms around" Ron joked. Feeling a little like he did on surveillance watch, but trusting Draco's judgement for now. Otherwise Ron would have disarmed him.

He let Draco pace a little longer before begining again.

“Dray, you know he didn't mean it.”

“He did.” Draco answered through gritted teeth. Sending another wave of fire into the hearth.

“He didn't. He's just confused. If he remembered... If he knew... He'd never...”

Ron wished he'd let Hermione follow Draco instead. She's way better at this stuff. Not because of her extensive vocabularly, but because of her delicate way with words and her vast knowledge of emotions too.

She'd know what to say.

Ron had come up because he knew what being a dad was like, he thought that would give him enough insight to deal with this. Apparently not.

“But he thinks it Ron. He wouldn't have said otherwise.” Draco sat down briefly before jumping back up. He was feeling to agitated to sit in one place. 

He couldn't believe Harry said that. That Harry thought that.

Ron tried again, “He's twenty years old, what does he know?”

"At twenty, what could Harry possibly understand of parenthood? He knew nothing of the life that you guys have lived. You're a super dad, mate, believe me."

However, it was as if Ron hadn't spoken, for Draco just continued to pace. “He's mine too, he's mine too.”

“I know that, you think I dunno that? I do.” Ron moved closer now Draco sheathed his wand.

“He is my son!” Draco yelled, stomping back and forth. 

Draco muttered it over and over. "He's my son."

Ron mumbled agreements and shushed Draco's loud protests.

“I mean, how am I supposed to... ? when he's just...?” Ron heard the unfinished questions. 

It's an impossible situation. From both sides. How are they supposed to raise Teddy together without trust?

“I dunno man.” Ron answered hopelessly. 

"I want him back, Ron." Then Draco crumbled. 

Draco slumpt over to the sofa. Where Ron laid a brotherly hand over his back as Draco sobbed.

Two fathers, two friends, mourning their loss.

And missing Harry more than ever.

+

A little while later, when the tears had subsided and Draco had calmed. Harry creaked the door open. Ron stood up in anticipation for another burst of emotional tension.

Harry shuffled his feet at the door uncertain how to begin.

“Hey?" Draco wiped his face, still feeling the tear stains though they had long dried. Harry stuffed his hands into his jeans."So, I'm er sorry. I didn't mean it."

Harry coughed. "I'm sure you're a wonderful, um, God-person to Teddy. I can see I really fucked up...” Stepping closer to Draco.

“I know.” Draco answered. 

Silence.

“So, um, sorry? ...I dunno what else to say.” Harry rubbed the back of his neck, awkwardly.

Ron excused himself. Harry had that look as if he was tempting to do the same.

“Harry.” Draco called just as Harry was about to leave.

“Yes?” He turned.

“I'm not the boy you knew.”

Because Draco needed him to know.

He needed Harry to realise they weren't sixteen anymore. That he wasn't the scared boy. Nor was he the man that Harry testified for after the war.

“I know that.” Harry answered.

But Draco needed him to know. Harry might think he knows, but he didn't. He couldn't.

“Do you?”

“Yeah, I mean you're....”

Harry paused, his brain offered several answers: Fitter? Hotter? Kinder?

“...a person”  God, that came out wrong. “Like, a healer, and you're my... erm, person.”

“You can't even say it, can you?”

“I can.” Draco could see Harry's stubbornness driving him to say this. 

“Would it kill you to say it?”

“my... my husband, see? There!” Harry smiled, as if that was the end of this conversation.

It wasn't. 

Draco stood up. Agitated for a whole different but valid reason.

“But you don't believe that, do you?”

“Do we have to do this now?” Harry whined.

“Yes. We do. I won't have Teddy live with this hostility...”

“I'm not hostile” Harry huffed.

“-The shame-”

“I'm not ashamed”

“Say it.” Draco challenged.

“Well." Harry paused. "Well, You still haven't proved it.” Harry crossed his arms, defensively.

Draco could scream.

“Was the house not enough for you?” Draco flapped his arms about. 

“We could just live together.” Harry supplied. Though he could tell it was a weak argument, Draco could see it in his cringe afterwards.

“Harry.” Draco couldn't help but shake his head.

It made Harry's hairs stand on end, he was so fed up with that headshake, that helpless little sigh. He'd seen it- heard it- enough for a lifetime. 

They stood poised for a fight but the tension had nowhere to go. 

Draco wouldn't hit his husband. 

Though Harry, he supposed, has no such beliefs.

+

As he stood before Draco, he could see that Harry was all tension and disbelief. 

Draco was so sick of it. He wouldn't have Teddy come home to this.

Also, Harry had this smug look in his eye, as if Draco couldn't prove it. Prove their intimacy.  

So he devised a solution.

“Fine, ask me any question. I'll know the answer.” Harry hated the certainty in which Draco spoke. Harry immediately took up the gauntlet. 

“Fine." Harry spat fire. "Where did I grow up?” It was the first thing Harry could think of.

But, of course, Draco knew the answer.

“Little Whinging. Surrey.” Draco answered without blinking. 

"Number 4, Privet Drive. To be exact." He drawled.

“Who did I live with?” Harry was sure that Draco wouldn't know their names.Harry never spoke of them, if he could help it. 

“Your vile muggles.” Draco seethed. Harry saw Draco grit his teeth.

Harry looked expectantly at him, he would not accept that as an answer. Anyone could know that. Harry wasn't shy of being Muggle-raised. 

Harry squinted his eyes in obvious challenge. 

Draco swallowed the bile in his throat. “Fine, Dudley, Petunia, and Vernon. Happy?”

Harry choked on his tongue. “You can't know everything.” Harry protested. Hoping it was true. Malfoy couldn't know everything, could he?

He wouldn't be with Harry if he did.

“I know everything.” The certainty again fueled Harry's next question.

“Who was my first kiss?” Harry was sure he would never discuss something as embarrassing as kissing a tearstained Cho Chang with Malfoy.

He would be teased relentlessly.

“You want me to say Ginny" Harry smiled. "But it was the Ravenclaw seeker.” His smile fell, and Draco's smirk grew.

“You- you” Harry's jaw dropped.

Malfoy shouldn't know that.

But to Harry's shock, Malfoy continued,  confidence seeping into each added word. “Unless you mean men because then it was Justin. Or maybe you'd count Finnigan, on the dare.” Malfoy smiled. 

He could see Harry's blush, burning. The blood within fizzing and frying as Harry remembered each encounter.

“You- you knew about...?” Harry could hardly get the words out.

Harry remembered one night, in the eighth year common room, whereby after a night of drinking, they all played Truth or Dare and Seamus was dared to kiss Harry.

It was terrible, his mouth too hot, and tongue too messy for Harry to consider a kiss.

A Snog perhaps, but he was an unwilling participant whatever you called it.

How on earth had Malfoy known about that?

Like a mindreader, Draco added. “Oh, I assure you, I was keenly -and disgustingly- aware of that event.”

Harry had no words. 

“I was in eighth year, Scarhead. I was there. And may I say it was horribly, inconsiderate of you to go around kissing every gay man in our year, but me.” Malfoy did this adorable mock pout that made his lips shine. 

Harry wished he hadn't noticed.

“I-I-” Harry was stunned. 

After Harry came out in Hogwarts, and the war was officially behind him, Harry felt it pertinent to explore his sexuality.

During which time, he did end up kissing a lot of men in their year.

Though Draco was overexaggerating.

It wasn't every gay man. 

And Harry hadn't even considered Draco an option as he was so unavailable even if Harry realised Malfoy was gay. (He didn't).

Harry had been quiet for some time. 

“Sorry, did I upset your delicate sensibilities?” Malfoy teased, sitting down.

“My-My sensibilities? Aren't you supposed to be, I don't know, refined and proud.” 

“Oh I am, I'm proud of my conquests Harry.” He had this annoying smirk back on his face.

“Lest you forget, I bagged the most eligible bachelor in all of Wizarding Britain.”

“You did not.” Harry spluttered indignantly.

“Didn't I? How do you figure?”

“You did not 'bag' me.”

Malfoy gave him a look.

“Fine then. What was my first present? A real present.” Harry thinks he's found a good question. One would assume Harry had several gifts before he was eleven after all.

“Amateur hour. Even, Ron could answer that. Hedwig.”

Harry couldn't breathe. Draco knew. Draco knew about his eleventh birthday, from Hagrid, his first ever present. 

Harry tried to find something obscure, something so random, to throw Malfoy off.

“What's my favourite food?”

“Treacle tart.”

“How did I free Dobby?”

Surely Malfoy doesn't know.

“You tricked my father into giving him your bloodied sock, real classy Potter.” Draco sneered, his voice somehow light. 

Harry gritted his teeth.

“Fine." Harry grunted. "Why did Gin and I break up?” 

Would he have told Malfoy the truth or is Malfoy merely speculating? Could Harry have actually shared his deepest moments with this man? 

“The weaslette and you decided it'd be best to work on yourselves. Then she moved away with the HollyHeads.”

Routing through his brain for the harder questions. Something Harry would never admit. Never think about to tell. 

He believes he's found it.

“What did I see in the mirror of Erised?” He'd have never shared his deepest desire with Malfoy.

“You told Dumbledore that it was winning the house cup.”

“Ha!” Harry celebrated the win.

“But you saw your parents.”

“I wouldn't have told you-”

“And yet I know, You wanted love and family more than anything else." Malfoy's voice no longer teasing. It held a new quality now. Reverance. 

Not that Harry noticed.

“Yeah, yeah pathetic, I know". Harry was floored, he really told Malfoy what he saw in the mirror. He was now just waiting for the mocking to commence. Sagging down onto the couch next to him.

An eleven year old should want fame, or riches, or sweets. Not...

“I think if I'd have looked in it, I'd have seen the same thing” Malfoy whispered into the quiet room.

“You-” 

“I wanted a family so desperately, and my father was never.... well, he wasn't exactly, and my mother is limited in her affection as well.”

“But she risked everything for you” Harry whispered back. Hardly believing what he was hearing.

“She did. But it wasn't the same, as having unconditional love; a true family. “

“And...and do you? Have that." Harry hoped that Draco didn't hear his voice break.

“Harry” The headshake was back. And so Harry was resigned into guessing whatever Draco was hiding. 

Inside, Draco was a mess. He and Harry had fought for so long. Both wanting the same thing. Both holding on, waiting to be cherrished, and loved, and respected. 

They were so similar. Too similar.

At school, they were too hot headed -too stubborn- to see it.

That they were both given no choice, and no true family. 

That they were made for each other. 

Draco could cry.

Harry was certain that the 'game' was complete. Draco knew everything. Harry had to face it: Draco was his husband. And he knew Harry down to the core. 

It made Harry's heart ache that he didn't know Draco in the same way.

Harry was about to sweep on out again. Desperate for some time to think.

To be alone.

When Draco stopped him with a tentative hand on his thigh. Which somehow didn't feel wrong to Harry. At all. In fact, he kind of liked it.

“You should know, I love Teddy as if he were my own. I love him beyond words."

Draco's eyes burned bright with unshed tears. "He drives me insane, he keeps me up with his gaming and wakes me at an ungodly hour. But I love him. And I would never,ever hurt him.”

Harry had no choice but to believe him. Draco spoke with such conviction. 

“And I was a deatheater. I don't hide that. But I've done my probation, I fought for my place in this world, just as you did."

Harry was starting to see the similarities between them. 

"I applied, I thought no one would ever give me a fair chance, but I worked and I impressed my boss, just like you have done."

"And I have made myself more than that scared boy in the bathroom." Harry tried his best to block out that fatalful day. It was one of his biggest regrets using scetumsempra. Harry shivered. 

Draco knew that Harry hadn't forgiven himself for it yet. Not in Harry's timeline, but Draco worked with Harry for months working on leaving the past in the past.

Respecting that each other were pawns in a much larger scheme, and that they were doing whatever they could to survive. 

And the fact that Draco had almost used an unforgivable on his Harry, was enough to make any man break. 

They tried not to dwell on it, forgave each other, and they both moved on. 

At least Harry had, in their timeline.

Draco plowed on, Harry needed to know.

"I am more Harry. I wouldn't be with you if I wasn't. I wouldn't think I was worthy of forgiveness if I hadn't done the work. But I have. I've paid my dues, and I'm a man of my word. I promise you I never have, and I never will harm Teddy. or You. I am your husband."

Harry could see the sincerity, he could recognise that Malfoy meant every word.

Draco had just proved that hadn't he?

That he wasn't lying. That their marriage was something more, like Hermione had said. 

Family means a little more than that, don't you think?

Harry decided right there and then. That it did.

“Okay. I trust you.”

And Draco knew that Harry meant it.

+