Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any characters associated wit it. I do however own this plot.



It was quiet again, so still. He was unsure of how long he had been floating in the darkness but he was sure it had been forever. He came back to himself slowly this time, unlike the first time that had been swift and painful, this time he waded slowly to consciousness and cracked opened his eyes.

Which he quickly closed in the harsh glare. Minutes later, after his eyes adjusted, he quickly looked around. He was in a hospital room and he knew it was not at Hogwarts. The room looked pretty much the same as the last time he had managed to awaken.

He squinted his eyes in the light from the open window and surveyed his living space. There were different flowers on the bedside table and the picture that had been there the last time was replaced with a different one. He glanced around and saw the picture that had been on his bedside table the last time he had woke up placed on the wall directly above the table. He glanced around the room and noticed that there were some new pictures here and there with the ones he remembered from the last time. There were all done in crayon and that confused him. Why would they be here? The new picture showed what looked to be a man and a child flying a kite. For some reason Harry's heart clenched as he stared at that picture.

His first thought was that he was glad that the room was empty. He struggled to get up but just like last time his arms and legs wouldn't sustain him. He heard a sound outside his door and quickly closed his eyes and stilled his body. As the door opened he felt a fissure of fear run down his spine. This would be the first time someone came into his room when he was awake and he wasn't sure why he didn't want anyone to know that he was awake he just knew he didn't want to tell anyone yet.

As the door opened the antiseptic smell of the hospital wafted in and replaced the calming smell of the flowers. He could hear talking outside his door but was unable to make out what was being said. He heard three sets of footsteps slowly enter the room and approach the bed. Harry struggled with the instinct to open his eyes to see who was there.

"Oh Harry," whispered a female voice and his mind recognized it as Hermione Granger's. He felt a touch on his forehead as his hair was smoothed back. He so wanted to open his eyes to see his best friend but something kept him from doing it. Fear maybe, he thought, but fear of what?

"Mi, it'll be ok." Came the soft voice of Harry's other best friend, Ron Weasley. The urge to open his eyes was now overwhelming. Just as Harry was going to give into the urge there came a third voice.

"I brought you another picture today," came a small voice from right beside his head. Harry stilled even more as he felt a tiny hand grab his own as the voice went on to explain what was in the new picture. What was going on? As he listened to the child's voice the thought came to Harry that it sounded like this was something that the child was used to doing. Who is he? Just then the door was pushed open and frantic footsteps could be heard coming into the room.

"Doctors we need your help!" The voice of the nurse insisted.

Ron's a doctor? Harry thought to himself increadously. WOW, never would have guessed that. He felt two hands grab his other hand and then with a caution for the child to remain there his friends hurried out of the room already barking questions at the harried nurse.

Harry heard the child sigh and mutter, "Damn, happens every time." And then he felt his hand being dropped and heard the drawer to the table next to him open. He heard the running commentary from the child next to him start but did not really listen. Why would they leave a child in the room with a comatose man? He lost himself in thought but was soon pulled out by the child's voice.

"Daddy says," was this Ron's child? "that I can't go around hexing people, but honestly, if they wouldn't piss me off I wouldn't have to hex them."

At that point Harry could resist no longer and he opened one eye slowly to look at the child. He was confused by what he saw. No, I don't think this child could be Ron's. There stood a boy in expensive robes holding a picture frame. He watched as the boy caught his bottom lip with his teeth as he put the new picture into the frame. All the while he continued to talk.

"Daddy got mad at me cause he had to buy me a new broom. But really, how was I suppose to know that you had to be higher than I was to do a Wonski Feint? You should have seen his face when he got there and found my broom in two pieces and my arm just hanging there." The child laughed and it was like music to Harry's ears. Harry could do nothing but stare at the boy in front of him.

He looked to be about the age of six or seven and he had black hair with streaks of white running through it. He reminded Harry of someone but he couldn't put his finger on whom. He was distracted by his thought and missed some of what the boy said, he turned his attention to the boy again and as he listened he felt himself grow uneasy. What was this boy doing here? Who was he?

"The uncles say that you did the same thing while you were at school. I wonder if it hurt you as much as it hurt me? I did Daddy proud though. I didn't cry. Man, I wanted too. Daddy took me home and put me to bed. I cried then. He came back in a held me…"

The boy stopped speaking suddenly and Harry found himself staring into bright green eyes with silver specks in them. The boy frowned and then his face cleared and he launched himself at Harry. He was shocked to the core to feel thin arms wrap around his neck. He instinctively tried to move his arms around the boy but was unable to move them but inches closer.

"You're awake," the boy babbled, "I can't believe it. I have to go get daddy." Harry tried to stop the boy but was unable to keep him from clamoring from the bed.

"Wa..." he croaked. Man his throat hurt! But that was enough as the boy stopped as he heard it. He turned slowly to look at Harry and he saw the expression on the boy's face, an expression filled with love and happiness. Was that for him?

"Don't you want the others to know you are wake?" he asked confusedly.

Harry shook his head no. "Wh...who?" he whispered.

"Who am I?" Harry nodded once in agreement and the boy held out his hand and took Harry's in his. Shaking it just like an adult would he said, "James...James Malfoy."

Harry grasped and jerked his hand out of the boy's grip. He saw the tears well in the boy's eyes as he stood there in front of him. Harry stamped down the voice in his head screaming questions and stared at the young boy in front of him. Not being able to stand the hurt on his face, Harry looked around the room at the pictures all over his walls. Had the boy drawn them and if so why were they here on his walls?

"You..." the boy's bleak whisper drew him back to face him. Harry winched as he saw the tears on his face. "You don't know?"

Harry felt confusion flow through him. Know what? He drew his brows together and shook his head no. He watched as the boy went from hurt to angry in two seconds flat.

"He didn't tell you?" Harry watched as the young boy got angry and started to pace the room muttering the whole time about stupid Daddy's who didn't do what they said they did. Harry moistened his lips with his still dry tongue and whispered, "How...long?"

James turned to look at him and said shortly, "six years."

Harry was shocked into silence by that statement and stared at the boy in astonishment. His mouth worked up and down but he couldn't make any sound come out. He felt James walk to the bed and stand beside him.

"You have been in a coma. You haven't spoken or moved for six years. They come in once a day and move your arms and legs around so that your muscles don't go bad. But they can't do anything about your voice. You will feel weak but you should be able to talk soon." James stopped at Harry's look of surprise. "Comes from having a father for a doctor, not to mention Godparents." He explained wryly to Harry's unvoiced question.

Harry grunted in reply, so Draco was a doctor....and married. He had a son. Draco had a son. Harry felt the flash of pain that hit his heart at that thought. It is what he had wanted for him, right? Harry smiled at the boy and mouthed water. James got the glass of water and held it to Harry's lips. He took a few sips before pulling away from the glass. He watched as the boy turned to set the glass back on the table.

Harry felt desperately lonely right now. He was glad that Draco had moved on and had a good life now. He turned his head from the boy as the hurt in his heart grew to unbearable heights. He felt the tears that threatened to rise and forcibly swallowed them down.

"Do you want me to go get someone now?" Harry shook his head no. James' eyes lit up and he bounced drawing Harry's attention back to him. Harry smiled slightly as he saw the delight on his face. "A secret!" He squealed. Harry shook his head yes and the boy bounced even more. Gone was the serious young man from before and here was a child taking pure delight in something.

Harry smiled and felt a lightness overtake him. Maybe Draco would let him spend time with James after he got out of here; after all, they had left him in the room with him. Harry motioned the boy over and whispered "sit" he waited until James was comfortable and then whispered "talk".

James nodded and Harry spent the next two hours learning about the amazing boy in front of him. He laughed with him when James told him about the results of the first time his magic manifested itself and the resulting spanking he got when he hexed someone called Haley when they said something mean about his Daddy. At a sound from the door Harry hushed him with a movement of his hand and they both sighed in relief as the footsteps moved on.

"How old?" Harry whispered surprised at the ease with which he had been able to do that.

"I am five, I'll be six in two months," James giggling, "Daddy is throwing me a party. Can you come?" he asked eagerly.

Harry blanched as he heard how old the boy was. So, Draco had wasted no time moving on. What did you expect he asked himself? This is what you wanted for him. Something that you felt that you couldn't give him. At another sound from the door Harry was saved from answering as it swung open. He barely had time to quickly shut his eyes.

He felt the bed move as James jumped up and ran to the man who had just walked in. "Daddy," he cried, "what took you so long? You promised me ice cream." He demanded.

Draco chuckled and the sound traveled down Harry's spine straight between his legs. "So I did my young man. Are you ready to go?"

"Yeah let me get my things." James said brightly and Harry heard him walk to the table where he had left his bag. Harry felt a light touch at his brow and the effort it took not to move made him feel weak all over.

"Oh Harry." He heard Draco whispered gruffly, the amusement gone from his voice to be replaced with longing. "I..."

"Ready Daddy?" James asked unknowingly interrupting his father. The hand was removed from his forehead and Harry wanted to cry out at the loss.

"Come on sport," Draco said lightly, "let's go get you that ice cream."

Harry heard the footsteps going towards the door and gave into the temptation to open his eyes. He cracked them open and had to stifle his gasp of longing at the sight that met them. He feasted on the sight of Draco standing next to his son. Draco had been beautiful before but now he was just breathtaking. His hear was the same though a bit longer than he remembered. The white coat did not take away from showing off his magnificent body though it did obstruct the view of what Harry could tell was still a nice looking arse.

They got to the door and Draco held it open for James to walk out first but gave him a look of question when he paused. At his fathers questioning look James whispered he wanted to say goodbye. Harry shut his eyes as he saw them turn to look at him. He felt James grab his hand and squeeze it tightly before leaning in to whisper in his ear.

"Goodbye, I'll see you tomorrow...Daddy." A faint kiss on his cheek and then he was gone.

The door clicked shut into the dead silence that his parting statement had caused. Moments later the silence was broken by the harsh sobs of the angry young man that was left alone in the room to deal with the news and the consequences of his actions.