Title: The Mirror
Author: Susannah Wilde
Word Count: 6015
Warnings/Content: language, hint of Mpreg
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of JK Rowling and Bloosmbury/Scholastic/Warner Bros., Inc. No profit is being made and no copyright infringement is intented.
Summary: After the war, Harry finds Draco living in New Orleans, working as a Seer. "When people come to visit me, I tell them what they want to hear. If I'm feeling charitable, I'll give it to them." What will Draco see when he peers into his crystal ball?
Author's Notes: This is a bit rushed, as I was pressed for time, but I hope it's decent. It's written for the Fluffy Halloween Fest at hd_fluff on LiveJournal. Also, I apologize in advance for the descriptions of New Orleans and the French Quarter, as I haven't visited them post-Hurricane Katriana. Happy Halloween!
Large, round yellow eyes stared at Harry as he pulled back the latch to open the window. The tawny owl flew in and perched on top of the desk, spilling black ink on a stack of parchment before surveying the room with a critical eye
Harry rushed forward and quickly spelled the ink away, shaking his head at the bird. "Who's your owner?" Harry felt foolish talking to an owl, but no one knew he was in New Orleans and he didn't recognize the owl. It was a beautiful creature, regal brown with streaks of red and white in the feathers, unlike the bald eagles the Americans used, with mud brown feathers and gnarled, yellow talons. Harry still had the scratches on his fingers.
The owl hooted once and turned away with its beak raised in the air. Harry sighed, remembering how temperamental owls really were until they were given a treat. He searched his pockets until he found a crumbled biscuit amongst the sunflower seeds and gum wrappers.
"Here," Harry said, holding out the biscuit in the palm of his hand, "now where's my letter?"
The owl cocked his head to the side, staring at him before slowly walking forward and pecking at the biscuit. Harry frowned as he failed to find a letter attached, despite ruffling the owl's feathers. He must have pulled too hard because the owl screeched before slicing open Harry's palm.
"Bloody owl! If you're not going to give me anything, then get out!" He wiped his hand on his robe several times before splattering some dittany on the wound. A quick glance at the clock revealed it to be a quarter to eight as Harry picked up the suitcase next to the desk. He might still be able to catch his Portkey if he left right now, bird be damned.
The fluttering of wings caught Harry's attention and he looked up to see the owl push off the desk and take flight. The owl circled the room twice, always making sure to keep Harry in sight. Harry scrambled to reach his wand as the owl descended straight towards him. Merlin! He might not share the same passion for owls as Hermione did for house elves, but that didn't mean he hated the creatures. Hedwig had been his first pet after all.
Harry tucked his head into his chest as he gave up his search for the wand, and braced himself for the attack. Harry winced as talons pulled out a few hairs, but otherwise he remained unharmed. He looked up just in time to see the owl soar into the full moon before disappearing into the shadows.
"Stupid owl," Harry muttered as he stood up to close the window. A white card lay on the windowsill and Harry's hands trembled as he read the words.
Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on whoshi
He flipped the card over to see a street address he recognized from briefly visiting the French Quarter earlier that day. He slid down the wall onto the floor, taking off his glasses to make everything blurry. The beginnings of a headache appeared, a steady thrumming in his brain, as well as the voices that came along whenever he thought of him.
"You finally found him," Harry's emotional side exclaimed in delight.
"Why should it be him? No one has heard from him in years." Harry's logical side had a valid point.
"Who else would have an owl this side of the ocean?"
"Other expatriates," the logical side quipped.
"Then it could be him; if his owl could find …"
"'His owl?' You're delusional! All those inquiries sent, and not one owl came back with a response," the logical side interrupted.
"You've lost faith. Besides, who else would have the Mirror?"
Harry rubbed his eyes open as the voices in his head faded. He had long suspected that he was crazy and he really needed to see someone about those voices. For now, as he made his way downstairs to make new reservations, he allowed hope to bloom as he had many times before. If the Mirror was involved, then maybe this time would be different.
Harry stepped out into the cold night, taking care to stay close to the shadows. Already the neighbourhood streets were filled with children dressed in various costumes, the princesses with their tiaras and frilly dresses juxtaposed amongst monsters hidden behind gruesome masks. They walked the streets in a weird parade, holding out their pumpkin baskets to collect sweets from each house. Harry smiled at them, at the fright on their faces as they jumped back from arms reaching for them in the dark, the fake blood dripping into their hair, and the skeletons that extended their arms to welcome them to the front door.
As Harry walked farther into the French Quarter, the decorations changed from something innocent to more dark and sinister. The city flowed with magic, its presence crackling like fire, so much that Harry was surprised Muggles couldn't feel it. As he passed the cemetery, he felt the energy escape and press against his skin, the cold chill settling down into his bones. Harry noticed that the magic came from the land, the old buildings at the center of the city, and the waters of the Mississippi River, because not one person alive carried a trace of magic.
Even the people who specialized in practicing Voodoo didn't emit any sort of energy, Light or Dark, which was odd, considering the services they provided. Harry peered at the window shops that displayed skulls, charms and amulets, statues of Death complete with cloak and scythe, and signs that promised to fulfill any desire. Harry caught snippets of conversations as people came out of the shops with looks of amazement. One woman in particular carried a rag doll with pins jabbed right into the doll's heart, saying, "I hope that bitch Martha gets what she deserves for stealing my fiancé. She will suffer for what she did to me!" Harry gritted his teeth and rolled his eyes, thinking that these people should be thankful that they never had to experience being under Cruciatus nor had Avada Kedavra aimed at them.
The night wind chilled Harry and as he wrapped his jacket tighter, he felt a prickling sensation on the base of his neck. He looked up and saw a couple walking out of a Victorian house that served as a shop, which unlike everywhere else, remained dark and undecorated.
"I can't believe he knew exactly what I wanted! I've never told anyone about wanting to open my own veterinary practice, but he said that it's going to happen within the month. Do you think it's true?" The woman clutched her boyfriend's arm as they walked past Harry.
"It better be true. You say he didn't ask you any questions?"
"No. He just told me to place my hand on the crystal ball and he started talking."
"He better not be a fraud."
"He has something like a 97% success rate. And he's the best of the business or otherwise I wouldn't have waited eight months for an appointment."
"Well I just hope that that $100 five minute conversation was worth it."
Interesting. A Seer lived here. Harry thought that his night might not be wasted after all. Even if the person turned out to be as credible as Trelawney, it sure beat going back to an empty hotel room.
A red curtain hung in the shop's front window with no sign that announced its business. Harry knew immediately that he was in the right place without taking out the small card without checking the address. The Mirror of Erised shone brightly in the moonlight, giving the glass an ethereal glow. He peered and saw a wild haired man, with bright green eyes staring from beneath a pair of glasses. He had grown taller since Hogwarts and his shoulders filled out the robes he wore, but he still had the same scrawny look from his adolescence. The scar was still etched onto his forehead, a constant reminder of the legacy he couldn't escape.
He stood alone and Harry's heart skipped a beat. Did that mean he had his heart's desire?
No. Harry shook his head to rid himself of that thought. There had to be a reasonable explanation for why he was standing alone, which would be cleared up as soon as he spoke to the owner.
In his haste, he almost didn't feel several wards surrounding the shop. Harry smiled; a Seer definitely lived here. He pressed the doorbell and waited a few moments before knocking on the door.
"Potter, what the fuck are you doing here?" Draco Malfoy stood in the entrance, dressed in his Slytherin robes.
When Harry received the short, unsigned note one morning in fifth year, he didn't tell Ron or Hermione. He was a bit curious as to why someone would want to meet him in the Room of Requirement, given that few people knew of its existence. But at 8 o'clock, there he was, walking three times in front of the seventh floor, asking for a place to meet the note's sender.
The Mirror of Erised greeted him amidst the rubble of random things that occupied the Room. Harry walked closer, keeping out of sight of the reflection, but saw that the ornate designs in the frame were polished and cleaned so that the Mirror looked almost new. He stopped short as a thought entered his mind. What would he see? The last time he had used the Mirror, his wish to find the Philosopher's Stone had been made in the time of need. Surely his heart's desire must be different from four years ago.
With this in mind and a bit of courage, Harry took a deep breath and stepped in front of the Mirror.
Two people lay sleeping on a bed, spooned against each other. Harry recognized himself, but seeing Draco Malfoy there came as a total shock. As he stood there, looking at the two of them, there was no burning hatred, but instead an overwhelming sense of peace. In Malfoy's arms he felt safe. A bright flush blossomed on his face as Harry realized that this was the thing he desired the most. He had thought about it, thought about Malfoy far too much in the moments before sleep claimed him to think that it was just animosity Harry felt towards him. But who would send him here to look at something he suspected for a while now?
A noise drew him to look over his shoulders, where he saw Malfoy come out of the shadows.
"Expelliarmus." Harry's wand flew towards Malfoy, who grabbed it and stowed it in his robes. Malfoy walked towards Harry, his eyes avoiding the Mirror, until he stood right next to him.
"You sent me the note? Why? Are you hoping to blackmail me?" Harry stopped talking when he felt the wand jab at his chest.
"Tell me what you see, Potter." Surprised at this command, Harry began talking, giving every little detail no matter how embarrassed he felt.
Midway through, Malfoy lowered his wand and turned around. He stared deeply at the Mirror, fingers grazing the surface, and after a moment he spoke.
"Why do you see the same thing I do?"
Although five years had passed, Draco Malfoy still looked the same, down to his dragon hide boots. Harry's breath caught as he looked up at the lips he had known so well, the broad shoulders that now filled out the school robes, and the grey eyes that used to light up at the sight of him, but were now dark in anger. The only noticeable difference was his longer hair loosely tied in a ribbon. He crossed his arms while he waited for Harry to respond.
"You live here?" was the first thing that Harry's fried brain could manage to spit out. Yes, Draco could still make Harry act like a fool in his presence. Harry straightened up and tried to peer over the taller man's shoulder, until Draco moved forward, invading Harry's personal space as he closed the door behind him.
"Of course, but the DMLE knows that. So the question is, what are you doing here?"
Draco's breath tickled the side of Harry's face, but he didn't dare laugh, given the anger that rolled off Draco's voice.
"I found you, Draco," Harry said at last.
Draco scowled at the use of his first name. "That's great Potter, five years too late, and guess what? I'm not interested."
Harry drew in a sharp gasp and he took a step back, trying not to let the shock show on his face. He had imagined many scenarios when he finally found Draco, but he never expected rejection. Meanwhile, Draco looked bored, fiddling with something in his robes, as if he had already dismissed him. Thinking quickly, Harry pulled out the only threat that was sure to make Draco listen to him instead of immediately throwing him out.
"I'm here on official Ministry business, Draco."
"Come back tomorrow. I'm late for a party." With that, Draco walked around Harry, robes flowing in the light breeze. Unwilling to let him go away so soon without any explanation, Harry reached out and grasped Draco's arm, who stilled at the sudden contact.
"I'm leaving tomorrow morning, which makes it rather inconvenient to return. So tonight's the perfect time for me to finish this investigation."
Draco yanked his arm back and turned to face Harry, anger colouring his cheeks. "The Ministry can't seem to get its shit together, considering they think all Death Eaters are shit. Auror Smith already gave me the pleasure of doing my monthly inspection, as per Ministry regulations. Goodbye, Potter."
Harry grasped at the information like a lifesaver thrown at him.
"Who? Zacharias Smith? Figures that Kingsley sent me to come here, then. Smith's incompetent and was sacked for screwing up too many investigations. Brilliant, really, the way he cried when he cleared off his desk. You really would have loved it, Draco. But now I'm here, so let's get this over with, yeah?"
Draco watched Harry give his speech with a look of disbelief, which made Harry question his own ramblings. But he had come too far just to give up now, and if he had to break into Draco's home to explain everything, then so be it. Finally, Draco gave a curt nod and opened the door.
"You have one hour, Potter, to look around, but when that time is up, get the fuck out of my life. Do you understand?" Draco's voice was quiet but Harry shrank back as if he had been yelled at. Draco left the room without a word or glance at Harry.
I did this to him, Harry thought as he ascended the stairs with his wand out. I've waited far too long and didn't find him quick enough and now he's alone and bitter.
As Harry searched each room, he began to piece together some of the mystery of Draco's life since the war, and what he found surprised him. He lived a simple life, even compared to Harry's standards of living. The furniture looked expensive, but was only the essentials, simple and linear, arranged carefully in each room. In Draco's bedroom, he realized that there were no personal belongings anywhere; no photographs hanging on the wall or knick knacks placed on the table. Faint traces of magic lingered here and there, but nothing that signified a wizard lived here. If it weren't for the fact that Harry had seen Draco, he never would have guessed the house's inhabitants.
When Harry found Draco's "office," he laughed. The small room looked—tacky. That's the only word Harry could find that could adequately describe the place. Curtains with different fabrics interwoven in a mosaic pattern with deep reds, purples, and blues, hung on the walls. Strings of white fairy lights dangled from the ceiling, reminding Harry of the candles floating in the Great Hall. Green Arithmancy runes were painted on the wooden floor as the smell of sage and cinnamon incense still lingered in the air from the previous appointment. Around the room, poisonous plants, some that Harry recognized from Herbology—belladonna, nightshade, mandrake— were arranged in clusters. With some well-placed smoke, Trelawney would have felt straight at home.
At the center of the room was a round, black marble top table. A yellow candle was placed in a bowl of water with floating rose petals. Directly across, an hourglass with its sand spilling through the lobes stood on top of scattered tarot cards. Harry heard the rush of wings and turned to see the same tawny owl land on the table, leaving long gashes in the marble. The owl followed his every movement with unblinking eyes, as if waiting for Harry to make a wrong move to attack again. Of course Draco would own such a temperamental creature.
Harry leaned over the table to inspect the crystal ball that sat in the middle of the mess, trying to ignore the owl's warning hoots. Like all crystal balls, it was transparent, but there seemed to be something familiar about this one.
"If I ask you to show me my future, will I like what I see?" Harry asked the crystal ball as his fingers grazed the surface. Warmth seeped through the glass and Harry closed his eyes as it slowly ran through his body.
"What are you thinking about?" Draco asked as he traced small curlicue patterns up and down Harry's back. Harry was splayed across Draco's body, his head resting on the pale chest, the gentle rising and falling lulling him to sleep.
"The future. I can't wait to tell the world that you're mine." Harry found comfort in the thought that Draco was the one constant in his otherwise hectic life. Each day brought new reports of random murders or disappearance of prominent people for students to notice that the two enemies didn't fight as much. Although in Potions they kept up their squabbles under Snape's watchful eye. In the year they had been together, not a single person had figured it out. Only in the Room of Requirement could they be two boys deeply in love.
"Right, there's just this thing about killing him." Harry frowned. As a general rule, they didn't speak about the war. Their time was too precious to worry about their roles in the war.
"I think that we are closer to winning. Dumbledore sent me a note to meet him in his office tomorrow. I think he's going to tell me something about how to defeat Voldemort."
Draco tightened his hold on Harry's waist, pulling him closer. Harry turned to see Draco staring at the ceiling before he reached up to smooth the worry lines off his lover's face.
"Don't worry, Draco. I've got big plans for us to even think about dying. We are not going to fall into society's expectations where I'm an Auror and you're a Potions Master. We'll move far away so that no one will bother us and we'll be able to live our lives without restrictions. Can you imagine a little house, a garden, a small Quidditch pitch where you can practice catching the Snitch? And then, when we're ready, some children."
Draco rolled his eyes, but deep down inside he knew how much Harry wanted children, to give them the childhood he never had. It was one of their constant conversations they had before falling asleep. He pulled Harry's back into his chest before he whispered, "I'll hold you to that, Harry."
The next morning, Harry woke up early and dressed quickly for his visit to Dumbledore's office. He smiled at the soft snores coming from beneath the nest of tangled sheets. Harry brushed away the blond hair and kissed the top of the head. Before he left, Harry stared at the Mirror, just as he always did after spending the night with Draco. Like a Muggle photograph, the image of the two boys remained unchanged, even after all this time.
Strong hands wrapped Harry in a bear hug, forcing the air out of his lungs.
"I'd be a fool to kill you, Potter, so let me just throw you out in the streets."
"No wait, Draco! Let me explain." Harry struggled against Draco, pulling at the arms wrapped around his neck while his shoes skidded on the floor. Dark spots appeared at the corners of his vision.
"Explain what, Potter? That you don't even work for the Ministry, who hasn't even heard from you in years, yet you show up at my front door."
"I came back for you, Draco! Why can't you understand that?" At these words, Draco released his hold on Harry and pulled out a vial from his pocket.
"Three drops, then." Harry shook his head; he needed to have a clear mind. Draco shrugged his shoulders and began to drag him again. Frantic at the thought of being thrown out, Harry opened his mouth and felt three drops of Veritaserum drip on his tongue.
Harry staggered to the table and sat across from Draco, almost losing the battle to keep his dinner intact. Now that he can see him properly, Harry noticed the changes over the years. His face is a bit thinner, never fully relinquishing the haunted look from sixth year, but it is made softer from the hair that frames his face. He still hides his emotions behind a mask and it tugged at Harry's heart that Draco no longer trusted him. He stops his scrutiny when he realized that Draco is watching him carefully.
"Well Potter, if you aren't stalking me, then what's your business here?"
"I've been searching for you to return this." Harry slowly reached into his back pocket and pulled out a wand before holding it out as a peace offering. At the sight of his hawthorn wand, Draco's eyes lit up, losing the harsh lines etched in his face. Harry watched in fascination as Draco gave the wand a little wave.
"Lumos." There. Harry felt the first stirrings of magic, warm and sure, since entering the house.
"Are you living as a Muggle?" The question slipped out before Harry had a chance to consider the consequences.
"No. The Ministry gave me a probation wand to keep track of every spell I use. All it's good for is housekeeping charms." Draco threw his maple wand at Harry.
"Expecto Patronum!" Nothing, not even a fizzle of sparks appeared. Harry looked up at Draco in disbelief.
"They left you with a wand that's practically useless."
Draco laughed, the sound harsh and bitter. "Of course. One of the benefits of backing the wrong side. After the war trials, they made me sign a contract, handed me a Portkey, and told me to never show my face again."
"So you've been here all along? Does anyone know?"
"The Ministry knows where I am. Every time Smith comes for the monthly inspections, he leaves a note on the table. I haven't seen anyone since the trial and it took me a while to figure out that the wards are restricted. They don't allow any former Death Eaters to visit, including my friends, but anyone else can enter. I also can't send my owl out. If people want me, they must come find me. After the first year, I gave up on anyone coming."
Harry looked away, a lump forming in his throat. Five years without a word and he'd give up hope, too.
"Did you just come to return my wand or was there something else?"
Harry struggled to resist the Veritaserum's effects for as long as possible, but the truth, no matter how harsh, will always win out.
"I think I left England in as bad a reputation as you did."
Draco snorted. "You'd just saved the Wizarding World. You could do no wrong."
"Apparently declaring that I was gay and in love with Draco Malfoy might shock quite a few people."
The silence that followed is all Harry needed to know that Draco was surprised by the admission.
"No one could find you. When the Minister asked me to join the Auror department, I refused, telling them that locating you was my first priority. After the trials, I went to Malfoy Manor and looked through your belongings hoping to find something. When I asked around at the DMLE, they wouldn't tell me anything, until Kingsley finally took pity on me and told me you were dead."
Draco sputtered into his cup of tea at that information.
"But I knew that it wasn't true, because when I asked Hermione, she told me that if a wand had multiple owners and its current owner dies, it transfers its allegiance to the previous owner until all of them are dead and the wand bursts into flames. I still had the wand after I defeated Voldemort so I decided to go look for you on my own. However, any spell I used to try to locate you returned nothing. It was almost as if it confirmed that you were dead. You can't tell me that I thought our relationship was nothing. I used every resource available to look for you, I did try. "
"You must have tried really hard, Potter." Harry felt like strangling Draco, if only to knock some sense into that thick skull.
"I was going crazy, Draco! Knowing that you couldn't be in England, I decided to look elsewhere. If I was going to get any information from other governments, I needed an excuse to validate any inquiry I had. When I looked through Professor Lupin's papers that had been willed to me, I found that he had been studying werewolves and how they interacted within their communities. He wanted to create a potion stronger than the Wolfsbane so that they don't have to hide when the full moon appears. I knew you were brilliant at Potions and would try to make a living that way so I went from country to country, asking for you. In fact, that's why I'm here in New Orleans. There was a sighting of the Rougarou, one of the wildest types ever, but it turned out to be just a wild coyote."
"Must do wonders for you social life, chasing after werewolves."
Harry threw his hands in the air, exasperated. "What social life? Do you think that when I wasn't looking at werewolves, I was on a beach somewhere? I just never figured you'd be in Louisiana of all places."
Draco refilled his cup of tea and stared at Harry with a curious expression on his face. There was still doubt that lingered in those grey eyes, but with each passing minute his voice was losing its rough edge.
"I needed to be in places where Muggles believed in magic, so that they would want to visit a fortune teller. The only other place was Las Vegas, which is hell. At least here they think I'm a wizard who practices Voodoo." He gestured at his Slytherin robes.
"Are you really able to see the future?" All Harry remembered during Divination was Professor Trelawney's mad ramblings whenever she predicted his future.
Draco smirked, tapping the surface of the crystal ball with his wand. "When people come to me, I tell them what they want to hear. If I'm feeling charitable, I'll give it to them. Magic really can make your wishes come true, especially when I use Felix Felicis."
"How can you tell what they want?"
"Did you know that Dumbledore left me the Mirror of Erised in his will?" Harry shook his head.
"When it was delivered and I opened it, I smashed it when I saw what I couldn't have." Draco avoided Harry's gaze. "Then, when I needed to make money, I made this crystal ball from the glass of the Mirror and modified it so that I can see exactly what people want. So the question is, Potter, what do you want?"
Draco looked at him, grey eyes searching so deeply that Harry felt he is looking right at his soul. When Harry doesn't answer, Draco sighed and conjured up a glass of water before handing it over to Harry. Their fingers touched and Harry felt a jolt of electricity. "Go ahead and drink it, Potter. It's just the antidote for the Veritaserum."
Instead, Harry placed the glass on the table. Draco needed to hear the truth so that there can be no room for argument.
Underneath Draco's sharp gaze, Harry reached across the table and took Draco's hand in his, threading their fingers together. Long slender fingers that brought back so many memories for Harry: fingers pulling at his hair when they kissed, fingers scratching lines down his back hard enough to draw blood, the mix of pleasure and pain, fingers wrapped around his cock, pulling him to orgasm. These images, unbidden, gave Harry the courage to answer with a simple, "you."
Draco scoffed at those words and released his fingers from Harry's grasp.
"We will see, Potter."
One night, after Quidditch practice, Harry felt a sharp tug on his robes as he walked towards the Great Hall for dinner. When he peered into the shadows, he saw Draco in a frenzied state. He stood against the wall, in a wrinkled, untucked shirt, hair almost as messy as Harry's.
"Did you mean it?" Draco stepped closer until Harry could see purple and red bruises under his wide eyes and he wondered how long they would take to heal.
Harry swallowed hard, knowing that this conversation would hurt. "So you received my letter?"
"Yes, but I didn't believe it. . . and then you've been ignoring me since returning from Christmas holidays." Draco began pacing with his hands clenched into fists. "And then the fight this morning. The one you started. Did the last eighteen months mean nothing?" Here Draco turned to face Harry, eyes wide with hurt, breathing unevenly as his voice rose in pitch.
"Yes. Don't ever doubt that!" Harry reached forward and grasped Draco's shirt, pulling him forward until their bodies were flush against each other, before wrapping his arms around a struggling Draco. After a few tense moments, he relaxed and nestled his head against Harry's neck.
"Father wants me to fulfill my family duty and become a Death Eater."
The words froze Harry's heart. He didn't answer immediately, needing a moment to find the right words to calm him.
"Draco, this is a war and you have to do whatever it takes to survive. If that includes taking the Dark Mark, I won't think any less of you. The one thing I will never tolerate is losing you. I've had too many people die because of me- you will not be one of them. And if they suspect that we are together, I know they will kill you." Harry began pressing small kisses up Draco's neck, until he finally reached his lips.
"Do you know how long I argued with myself? Short of you joining the Order, which you refuse to without your mother, I had to think of the perfect way to keep you safe, and it's by pretending to go back to the way things were. I know it seems harsh, but I promise you this: When the war is over, I will come find you."
Draco tapped the hawthorn wand on the crystal ball and motioned for Harry to place his hand on it. The glass was warm under his fingers, releasing a burst of energy, but Harry kept his gaze on Draco. When Draco finally peered down, he let out a small gasp.
"What?" Harry looked at the crystal ball in a quick panic, but couldn't see anything.
Draco licked his lips, a nervous gesture that Harry remembered from Hogwarts when they studied together. A small glance at Harry revealed a glimmer of something-hope- before he looked away.
"Tell me what you see, please," Harry said softly.
"I see you standing at Platform 9 ¾, waiting for the Hogwarts Express. You're holding hands with a young girl with long red hair and bright blue eyes."
Harry shoulders drooped as he closed his eyes as the information hit him like a ton of bricks. There was only one family he knew that had red hair, and in particular, one woman who still kept waiting for him to return to her, despite coming out as gay. Even after all this time, the one thing that kept Harry motivated when all the information about Draco kept leading to dead ends, was the eventual reward of living out the rest his life with him. Now his dream lay in tatters.
"You're also pregnant."
Harry's eyes flew open. "What!"
"Yes." Now Draco allowed a small smile to grace his features. He looked up at Harry, eyes bright and so full of life that Harry doesn't know if he's dreaming. However, his next words seal the deal.
"I'm the father."
Harry laughed, nervous laughter that bubbled in the back of his throat and came out as coughs.
"How? If what you say is true, she doesn't look like any of us."
"Does it matter, Potter? I'm in your future and we don't even need Felix Felicis. But if you really must know, and if you can understand genetics, she must have your mum's hair because she definitely has my mother's eyes. If you still have doubts, think of the way I'm right beside you, guiding you through the crowd on a sunny day that catches the glint of the matching rings."
Draco picked up the crystal ball and rolled it across the table and onto the floor, where it shattered into pieces.
"Or the way she looks up at me and calls me Papa."
Harry was at a loss for words and looked at him with a wary eye, at the way Draco sat there sipping his tea, not reacting negatively to a word he just said. To another person, he appeared calm, but Harry only has to look at the way his hands trembled slightly to know he's nervous. Then Harry spied the empty vial next to Draco's cup and he looked up in surprise.
"Please tell me you were telling the truth," Harry whispered and Draco's eyes widen slightly.
"The Veritaserum doesn't allow me to lie, Harry." The words have just left his mouth when Harry grabbed Draco and pulled him onto the floor. He kisses him hard, hands fisting in his hair, pulling the ribbon out so that blond hair fans out into a halo.
At first Harry feared that he has made a mistake because kissing Draco is like kissing a statue, unresponsive. Just as he's about to pull back and apologize, Draco wrapped his arms around Harry's waist and sighed before finally opening his lips. It has been too long.
When Harry reluctantly pulls away to breathe, those grey eyes look closely at him.
"I'm sorry," Harry whispered before tilting Draco's chin to face him, brushing the soft hair away.
"But I told you I would find you and I try not to break my promises."
"The question is will you stay? I'm stuck here and you're just passing through. I can't go chasing after werewolves with you." He fiddled with the sleeve of his left arm, the unasked question hanging in the silence. Will you still love me after all I've done?
Harry reached down and grabbed both hands before kissing the fingertips. "Draco Malfoy, I love you. If the sex is as good as I remember, and I have a pretty good memory, I'll stay with you forever."
Harry smiled at Draco's next words. "Potter, I will make you scream."