UGH. I legit need to get better at updating this D: I miss my every other day updates and I'm sure you all do, too. Maybe? My ego says you do! MY EGO ISN'T WRONG, IS HE?

Yes. My ego is a guy. There's no way something this irritating is anything less. I've named him Frank.


Another fic I've been writing with Becoming-Obsessed, Wingardium Leviosa, has been distracting me as much as the real world issues that have been exploding in my life. So many apologies D: But that one's very close to being finished - One more chapter and then an epilogue! - so I'll be able to turn more attention to this soon :D

I love you all! Enjoy~

Harry wasn't entirely sure what to think. Besides the fact that sleepless nights were not conducive to spending a day with a couple of rowdy children. He'd expected Teddy to cause some trouble - he always did. But pairing him with Scorpius? Horrible idea. His godson's excitable personality was clearly rubbing off entirely too easily on Scorpius. The only good news was that the five year old was collapsing twenty minutes after lunch for a nap, Perry as his pillow since the crash had occurred on the floor of the parlor.

Kreacher had retreated to his cupboard not long after breakfast and retreat really was the right word for that desperate fleeing. Harry had found himself envying the house-elf, which was rather telling. He knew, though, that he never wanted to deal with these two on his own again. He was getting to Draco as early as possible on Sunday.

Which just brought him back full circle. Since he'd finally gotten Teddy to settle down with a puzzle - "If you do anything loud, you'll wake up Scorp and then he won't be much fun since he'll still be tired" - Harry could now relax in the kitchen with a cuppa. And his thoughts kept careening back to Draco, no matter how many other paths they tried to take.

It was his own fault. The sleepless night as well as the current lack of control over his thought process. And, yeah, he'd taken one mouth-watering look at Draco Malfoy in pants and he'd known without a doubt that he wouldn't ever get that image out of his mind and that it would undoubtedly keep him awake. But kissing him? That was just insane. He'd been expecting the blonde to climb through his floo and take away his son the entire day.

And it was very difficult not to think too hard on what it meant that Draco hadn't come and taken the boy. It could very easily mean that Draco hadn't minded the kiss... Assumptions like that would only lead to more idiotic impulses, though, so the thought was banished.

The thought returned and he groaned, running a hand through his hair in frustration. If Draco had, however slim the chance, enjoyed the kiss, that didn't mean he could just... do it again. It was miraculous enough that he hadn't been hexed twice over, no matter how... chaste it had been. Just a quick press of lips. Almost friendly, if Harry thought about it. Almost.

Not at all. Not in any fashion had that been friendly. Shite. He couldn't even tell why he'd done it. Beyond the obvious, anyway. He'd come in by floo, a little panicky when Draco hadn't answered the call or seemed to be anywhere in the room, when he'd been the one to bloody well send an owl. He'd worried immediately, despite knowledge that Goyle and Greengrass were in the bottom of the Ministry awaiting trial, that he'd been taken again, and had followed the light in the kitchen.

And there'd been all that skin. All that fit, begging to be touched skin. Surely it couldn't be as smooth as it had looked... His mouth was certainly warmer than it looked. All those cool looks he sent Harry's way weren't indicative of his lips, their firmness, the possibly imagined willingness to part. Harry was fairly certain that it wouldn't have taken long for Draco to be pinned right against his mantle for a thorough snogging.

Which led to the thoughts and imaginings which had kept him up all bloody night. It was easier when he hadn't known what was under all those clothes the Slytherin wore. Harry couldn't remember ever, not even as students, wearing anything less than long-sleeved shirts and long trousers. Very well-cut trousers, if memory served. Yeah. He blew out a breath. Very well-cut, indeed. Even if he'd had the personality of a clod of mud.

Maybe. That memory was rather tempered with the years between and the fact that, well, they'd been at each others' throats since that first day. Since Draco had taken it upon himself to seek Harry out on the train, his hulking gorillas on either side of him, and offered his hand and a few pompous opinions. Harry hadn't accepted either and things had just... dissolved from there. He couldn't say he regretted it, though. He really couldn't ask for better friends than Ron and Hermione, never would've gotten as close to them if he'd taken Draco's hand that day.

His entire life would probably be different if that one decision had gone another way, and Harry really didn't think he wanted to know how. He couldn't even imagine how sixth and seventh year would've gone. And then fourth... A part of him had always wondered if Draco had known that Voldemort would be returning at the end of the Tournament. He hadn't seemed to have any idea who Moody really was, so...


Harry rose, wandering to the sink with his cup. He rinsed it out, sighing quietly. Why did thoughts about Draco always go back to their school days? Was it the comparison? Because, really, the man he knew and the boy he'd known seemed vastly different. But, well, he'd hardly known the boy and was just barely getting to know the man. Their conversation the night before had been one of their longest... the longest, actually. Something was usually able to interrupt things before they got deep, be it his own retreat or Scorpius.

He didn't want to have deep conversations with Draco Malfoy, not really. Or not yet. Harry considered a moment before nodding. Not yet. Whatever was happening between the pair of them was too tentative. Talking about the past would just lead to arguments, wouldn't it? Harry was rather enjoying not arguing with him.

He frowned as it occurred to him that they hadn't fought at all the night before, not even when they'd discussed the scar a stupidly cast Sectumsempra had left behind. He'd been flippant over it, dismissive. The Draco Harry recalled would've taken the opportunity to exploit Harry's guilt or rant over the fact that his skin had been marred or... or something as equally shallow and irritating.

It was frustrating, truly, that the man wasn't reacting as the boy would have. But the war had taken the boy out of plenty of his friends. Bloody hell, he could still clearly see Neville's face when that passage had opened up, the cuts and bruises. He remembered Seamus's as well - boy was hardly recognizable, not until he'd spoken at any rate. People had been dying the past two years, more had died just that night.

And it hadn't ended there. Harry had been sure it would be over. Voldemort's dead; let's have normal lives now. No. Trial after trial after bloody trial... And they'd wanted his testimony at each and every one. He could even remember the absolute shock in Draco's eyes if he thought of his testimony for Narcissa.

Actually, that was the only thing he could remember about that testimony. Draco had stared at him throughout and Harry had stared right back. He'd told the story to Draco, hadn't he? Yes. Yes, he had. And wasn't that a revelation?

Harry frowned, drying out his little cup and stowing it in one of the cupboards. Once he'd caught sight of Draco, he hadn't been able to look anywhere else. Had that been where the attraction - Harry wasn't going to waste time pretending he wasn't attracted to the blonde - had really started? Maybe. It was more likely that it had been there... It had just been there if he thought too hard about it. Why else would Malfoy aways have been the first person he thought of when something went wrong? Or when things went right, honestly - wait til Malfoy heard about this. Even if those thoughts tended to be a bit petty. At least he didn't have them anymore.

He had other things to think about when it came to Draco Malfoy, even if those thoughts weren't exactly... Well, they very likely weren't going to happen, were they? And that was just depressing. Before he'd left Molly's, Hermione had given him a hug and a whispered, "Really, Harry, sexual repression isn't good for you. Particularly at your age."

He couldn't deny that she was probably right. He needed to get laid. The issue was who he wanted. That wasn't exactly the best of ideas. The kiss hadn't been the best of ideas, but Draco hadn't... Harry cut himself off. It didn't matter if Draco hadn't pushed him away or anything; the kiss had been way too brief for that anyway. If he'd tried to deepen it, who knows what may have happened?

Nothing would've happened. He told himself so firmly... but he couldn't make himself believe it, which was a problem. He didn't really want to jeopardize this tentative friendship that they were developing. It was honestly pretty weird to think about it - he was becoming friends with Draco. Though it wasn't a very good sign that after their first semi-deep conversation, Harry had momentarily lost his mind and kissed him.

So... do the smart thing and keep from these deep conversations or do what he wanted and try for some kind of other relationship? Though it was very likely that anything more than a tentative relationship would simply blow up in their faces. His face, since he was the one trying for more. Most likely Draco wouldn't have two words to say to him the next time they saw one another...

Harry wasn't looking forward to that. "Potter?"

Oh. Well. Shite. It didn't seem to matter if he was looking forward to it or not. He turned and offered a small smile. "Hi." Draco nodded and was, Harry noted, fully dressed. The little wave of disappointment was rather irritating, so the brunette ran a hand through his hair and hoped it didn't show. "What're you...?"

"Doing here?" Draco shrugged slightly. "I finished shopping and found the house rather unbearably silent. It doesn't seem to be much better here."

"Yeah. Scorp wore himself out, so I pressed a puzzle on Teddy. The pieces move, so it confuses him sometimes, but he'll finish it or spend the rest of the day annoyed." Harry closed his mouth, cutting off his ramblings, and just waited.

Draco sighed, lifted a hand and waved it dismissively. He'd spent the night thinking on how he would act the next time he saw Harry and a nonchalant attitude was probably best, considering what had occurred. "Don't be awkward, Potter. We've managed to get along thus far; I'd rather not ruin it with you tip-toeing around." Even if they had both been tip-toeing around and both knew it. "Understand?"

"Yeah." Harry's smile widened. "Yeah, alright. You want a cuppa while you're waiting on Scorpius to wake up? Tea should still be hot."

Nodding, Draco sank into a chair. "And don't skimp on the sugar."

"Excuse me while I drown in my surprise," Harry teased and laughed when Draco only lifted a brow. "You used to get these packages at school. They were always loaded with sweets."

"It's fascinating that you would pay attention to me that closely, let alone remember such a detail."

"It was hard not to pay attention to you," Harry admitted, turning away to fiddle with his tea kettle. "So you, ah, came to get Scorpius?"

"No. Taking him from you a day early would upset him. I suppose I was just curious. How are he and Teddy getting along?"

"Like they've known each other their entire lives." Harry grinned, setting a sugar-laced cup before Draco. "But Teddy's used to being around younger kids. The oldest is Victoire and she's still two years younger."

"Victoire would be the one who said chasing dogs was improper?"

"But the moment the thing was close enough, she grabbed him." Harry dropped down in another chair, amused. "Yeah. Dominique's the one who was all for getting grubby. There's Molly and Lily, too. They're Percy's girls and just around Scorpius's age. Molly's six, actually."

"Percy? The Weasley with glasses. I believe he worked for the Ministry?"

"Yeah." Harry cocked his head to the side. "I didn't know you paid that much attention. He was quite a few years ahead of us."

"I don't remember him at all from school, but for hearing 'First Years, follow me' in the background at a few points in time. It was seventh year that I remember him from. Pius Thicknesse suggested him at some point."

Harry remembered the former Minister of Magic with less than fondness, even if he had only been under the Imperius Curse. "Suggested him for what?"

"Infiltration. Thicknesse was under the impression that using the Imperius on Percy would be a good way to get into and break apart the Order, but we knew already from those close to Scrimgeour that he wasn't close to the family. This was before the fall of the Ministry, of course. Percy left then. Excellent timing on his part, I suppose. He was about to go under the curse because he thought that would be the best moment, the smartest moment. Get Percy in at a logical time so he could find out what you were up to."

Since Harry was only staring at him, Draco sighed. "Potter, if we're going to get anywhere, hiding from the past isn't going to do us any good."

"Get anywhere?" Harry wondered, certain the blonde couldn't mean what Harry hoped he did.

Draco's eyes rolled. "If you're that thick-"

"No. I just... Really?"

"Well, you aren't the only one who spent a sleepless night." He sipped his tea, watching Harry over the top of the cup. He could see, much to his amusement, things clicking together in his mind. He'd spent much of his night deciding on how to go about this. If Harry was going to do ridiculous things like kissing him goodbye, then there was clearly a mutual attraction. Dancing around it was as foolish as throwing himself headlong into a relationship - though the last was a bit harder to avoid now that he was watching a slow smile spread over Harry's face. He had Scorpius to think about, he reminded himself. Besides, his last serious relationship had culminated in an abduction, so he was a bit leery of that.

And wasn't that just bloody pathetic? He hid his grimace in his drink. "I'll take that silly grin as a good sign."

Harry laughed and Draco's grimace was twitching into a smile. "So what first?" But before Draco could answer, Harry was speaking again. "Wait, no. Do you have anything you need to do today?"

Since he hadn't been able to sleep and thinking about Harry Potter wasn't very productive, he'd spent half the night writing. He quickly calculated what he'd managed to get done versus what he'd manage to do during the day. He'd already discovered that he'd developed a very start-and-stop style, which he could attribute directly to Scorpius, so it wasn't as though he were getting much more done than he would without the boy.

"I've already completed what I had planned."

"I was going to take the boys out once Scorpius woke up. Diagon Alley and the like. I have some things I need to pick up and George wanted me to stop at Wheezes, too. So d'you want to come along?"

"Do all your days include Weasleys?"

"Since I work with one, yeah."

Draco lowered his cup, offering an amused smile. "I suppose getting used to the color red won't be the end of the world."

"Fitting a Malfoy into my routine won't be either."

Now Draco's brow rose. "Oh, Potter, you'll be the one situating yourself into my routine. I'm the one with the child. Which I do have to keep in mind," he added.

"I know. I... I love the kid." Harry shrugged, clearly embarrassed by the admission. "So whatever... whatever this is, I'll be careful when it comes to him."

"Good. Now Scorpius shouldn't be down for more than an hour at a time or he'll never get to bed. And judging by that ridiculous smile, it's already been more than that."

"It has been, but I was smiling more at how quick you go into daddy-mode."

"I'm a single father, you twit. I have no other mode." Draco rose, sending his empty cup to the sink before walking out to awaken his son. Harry's laugh followed him out.