Tearful Wishes

For the week following the zoo incident, Harry had seen Ron and the other Weasleys, including the children. He was in love with Hugo, who clung onto Hermione or Ron at all times, only mumbling small phrases as he and Lily spoke. His five year old mind was intelligent, as seen in his responses, but he was quiet and kind. He brought Lily a flower from the garden, smiling when she giggled and put it in her hair, and Harry couldn’t help but think that this was his little girl, and one day she would fully be his.

Harry continued sleeping in the room across the hall, giving Draco a wave every time they went off to bed, and the two continued to spend time together and with the children. 

One night, after a particularly grueling day of potions for Draco - whose private business worked out of their home, as he had been informed earlier that week - the blonde man had said nothing before bed, just muttered a quick “love you,” and wandered off to the bedroom. Harry sat with the children for a while longer, watching Lily play with her dragons as James and Albus played a game of exploding snap. Teddy was nestled into the couch, book in hand as he ran his fingers along the armrest.

“Ted?” Harry questioned suddenly, bringing the boy’s attention to him. 

“Yeah, dad?” The book shut.

“Are you happy? With me and Draco?”

Teddy’s brow furrowed and he looked at Harry worriedly. 

“Of course I am. You’re the best dads in the world.”

Harry looked down, mumbled out a quiet “oh,” and refrained from responding.

“He loves you, y’know,” Teddy spoke again, “he always has. He told me he loved you back in fourth year, but never had the courage to say it because of his dad. He said he wouldn’t have been with you if you hadn’t asked him first.”

Harry continued looking down, nodded, and sat fiddling with his thumbs until it was time to put the kids to bed. 

That night, as he lay in bed, all he could think about was the last day he spent at Hogwarts, covered in Draco’s blood as he desperately tried to fix the damage he caused. He fell asleep, hands clenching the pillow as he tossed and turned until, finally, sleep took him in her arms and dragged him with her.

He woke, tears running down his face and a hand running through his hair as a familiar voice whispered to him, telling him everything was okay.

“It’s okay, darling,” Draco spoke into Harry’s ear, his nimble fingers making their way through his mess of curls. “Everything is okay. You’re here, I’m here, everyone is okay. Ron and Hermione are okay. Your weasels are okay. Everyone is okay.”

Harry shuddered, thinking back to the nightmare from which he had just awoken. Draco was here. He hadn’t died in the bathroom. It was okay.

Harry nodded to let Draco know he was okay, and Draco continued to card his fingers through Harry’s curls as the chosen one drifted off to sleep once more. He felt the fingers lift after a while, and heard the man stand. As Draco turned to leave, whispering a quiet “I love you” into the air, Harry’s hand shot out to grab his. Draco turned, moonlight catching his grey eyes just enough to make them sparkle, and gave Harry a look of confusion.

“Stay,” Harry whispered into the open air, and Draco listened.

***

Harry woke in his and Draco’s bed at the end of week three. One more week, he thought, as he turned to face the sleeping blonde. Draco was peaceful in his sleep, soft snores escaping his lips as he slumbered on.

This was also, Harry noted, the only time he could catch Draco without a long-sleeved shirt on. Draco nearly always took his pajama shirt off to sleep, revealing the dark skull and snake tattoo marring his pale skin. Harry had never dared to look before that day, too worried it would cause a negative reaction, but with only a week left of this he took his chances.

His hand found its way onto Draco’s arm, fingers brushing over the skull detailing as he glanced between the mark and Draco’s face. The blonde woke slowly, eyelids fluttering and a small smile gracing his face when his eyes met Harry’s. It was only when he looked down that he noticed what exactly Harry had been looking at, and the smile vanished.

“Harry…” the blonde whispered, trailing off into oblivion.

“Tell me,” Harry said softly, offering Draco his vulnerability in exchange for the same. “Tell me why you got it.”

The blonde sighed, shaking the smallest bit before bringing himself to look at Harry. 

“My mother,” Draco whispered, “I got it to protect her. I didn’t want to, but I had to or he would kill her.”

Harry brought his free hand up, cupping the cheek of the other man in the manner he had seen Hermione use on Ron. 

“And what was your mission?” 

Draco sighed again. “To kill Dumbledore. They wanted me to let Death Eaters into the school and kill him, but I didn’t know who they were sending and I wasn’t able to kill him.”

Harry’s mind was running a thousand miles a minute, but he focused in on the grey eyes in front of him. 

“What happened?”

“You -” Draco cut off, trying to find the words. “You and Dumbledore had gone to find a horcrux, the locket, and I was working on the vanishing cabinet. I had gotten it to work and they planned on coming immediately. Dumbledore came back, weak, and hid you, and when I got to the tower I disarmed him. He tried to help me and I should have taken it but then Aunt Bellatrix got there and she had brought Greyback and I was so - so terrified, Harry. I just stood there until Severus finally came and did it for me. Apparently Dumbledore had asked him to, in order to keep my soul pure or something, but after that I was never the same. I still can’t even look at the Astronomy Tower.”

Draco was on the verge of tears at this point, and Harry took the man into his arms, holding him tightly until they were interrupted by Lily jumping into the bed screaming about breakfast.

***

With three days until the potion was ready to take, Harry and Draco sat anxiously on the couch together, surrounded by playing children. Draco didn’t have any more potions orders to fill for the month, and instead focused on ensuring Harry knew everything he could about the war. 

“I want you to live, Harry,” Draco said when they spoke about the final battle. “Even if you feel like getting on that train, Harry, you need to live. My mother is going to lie for you, just tell her I’m safe.”

Harry held Draco at night, and Draco held Harry when he woke from his nightmares. Draco would speak in French, a language Harry knew nothing about, but apparently the children and Draco were fluent in, and Harry would listen as the man rambled on and ran his fingers through Harry’s hair. 

Harry realized, on the second-to-last day, that he had fallen in love with Draco Malfoy. He had known that he liked the man, but he found himself undoubtably staring at the man’s lips, wishing for them to meet his own. He found himself longing for the moments they got to spend together, gentle caresses and sweet whispers making their way into the dark night. 

That night, Harry listened to Draco as he mumbled in French, waiting until the perfect moment to kiss the blonde. He waited, and waited, and one moment faded into the next until all the moments were gone and he fell asleep, his lips remaining untouched. 

***

Harry and Draco walked into St. Mungos on the 13th of June to retrieve the potion. Harry spent the day surrounded by his children and his husband, knowing that at the witching hour he would be sent back to sixth year, lonely in his dormitory.

He wished, selfishly, to stay where he was, but knew that he would never be able to remember all the firsts he so desperately wanted to know. He sighed, listened to Lily talk about hippogriffs, and snuggled into Draco’s side.

In their bed that night, the two men sat snuggled against each other, Draco holding Harry close and playing with his hair.

“Draco?” 

The fingers stopped for a moment, replaced by a single kiss to the top of his hair as Draco replied with a quiet “hmm?”

“Teddy told me something interesting,” Harry continued, and the fingers found their way back into his hair. “He said you’d loved me since fourth year, but that you never would have told me.”

Draco chuckled, rattling Harry a bit.

“He decided to spill my secret then, hmm?”

“So it’s true?” Harry looked up into those grey eyes, wanting to stare into them forever. “You really did love me back then?”

“Darling,” Draco spoke, softer than Harry had heard in a while, “I have loved you for so long I cannot even remember when the thought first occurred, but I remember that year specifically, watching you fight dragons and dance with girls, and I remember that all I wanted was to see you smile. I went about it in all the wrong ways of course, but it’s truly all I wanted.”

Harry laughed, thinking back to the Potter Stinks buttons and how angry he had been. 

“I think,” Harry said, “that I love you too, Draco Malfoy.”

Draco smiled. “Potter,” he corrected, nuzzling his nose against Harry’s before easing them back into conversation. 

The clock struck three much too soon, both of them laughing about Draco’s rendition of a muggle story. Harry felt his anxiety hit him full force, and he stared at Draco as the man handed him the potion. 

“Draco,” Harry spoke quietly. “What if this never happens?”

“It will,” Draco spoke with absolute surety. “I love you.”

Harry stared into grey eyes and downed the potion in one gulp. “I love you.”