Chapter Text"Someone should write to the school," Draco said carefully, as he used his magic to clean the bowls. "Tell them about Luna - and probably go and collect the thestrals, because they shouldn't be in a city."
"Luna just needed a break from school," Potter argued, and Draco took a deep breath.
"She needs help. She's been through a war, Potter, and she's still a child really. The school should know so that maybe… maybe they can do something."
"I'll write to them. And you should write to her, she clearly wanted to talk to you." Potter said it so easily, and Draco nodded. He knew a few people he considered friends had gone back to Hogwarts. He wasn't foolish enough to try and write to them without Harry's permission, not when he had his scorpion to protect. But he knew that he could rely on them to keep Luna out of trouble, and he could suggest she spend time with them - and maybe that would get her to share some information about how they were. "I'll write to her this evening if that's alright?"
"Of course." Harry looked over at him and frowned a little. "You should have eaten lunch."
"I was busy cleaning," Draco answered, because that was the easiest explanation to give, and it wasn't a lie, not exactly.
"Still… Hermione can do that sometimes, she gets distracted by things… there are time spells, so they can set alarms, if you're struggling to remember…" Potter fumbled through the words, and Draco only just managed to hold back a comment because unlike Potter, he had been raised magical. As a child he'd often woken to the warm brush of his mother's magic against his mind as she used an alarm spell to gently remind him to come to breakfast.
"I can do that," Draco promised. It was only later that night, standing under the shower and monitoring his perimeter spells, that he realised what Harry had given him. He knew now he'd be able to eat, even if Harry was out, and he could write to Luna. His shoulders began to shake, as he stood under the warm spray, sobbing in silence. For a week his world had shrunk to Potter and his confusing, ludicrous demands, and now there were other things opening up, his world no longer quite so painfully limited.
He pressed a hand against his stomach, remembering what the book had said about using magic to strengthen an unborn child. The two of them were going to be alright, and he'd make sure the house was ready for them. He wondered if Potter would allow him to take one of the spare rooms as a nursery, or if it would be better to fashion a crib for his own room.
That night, he laid awake and tried to imagine what it would be like, living the rest of his life here. Potter was kind. Potter was kind and this place was safer than Azkaban for him, he was grateful for that. And thanks to Potter… there was a life growing within him. The potential for a positive legacy. For his child, he would make sure to keep Potter happy, to stay out of Azkaban.
As the night drifted on, memories swirled in Draco's mind. The raucous laughter of the Death Eaters as the Dark Lord criticised his mother and his aunt for what their sister had married, for the fact that his cousin had married a werewolf. He'd turned to Draco, Will you babysit the cubs? And Draco had sat there, trying to breathe, knowing they all knew he was worthless. A few months before, he had thought he could serve the Dark Lord, remove Dumbledore, restore the family's honour. And now… now he was a joke, and everyone knew it.
A year later and he would be babysitting the cub in question, Potter's godson. He tried to ignore the sudden nausea swirling through him, because his child needed to be Potter's heir. Potter had to need the child, because if not he could dispose of them without a thought, and Draco couldn't… Draco couldn't let that happen. But if Potter wanted… there would be no way out for him. If he ran, the aurors would track him down, drag him back to where he belonged.
Potter probably hated Mother too much to allow him to leave the child with her. Draco curled up smaller in his bed, his knees tucked up against his chin. They would be alright. He would find a way to make things alright, and he would look after Teddy if he needed to because… because if he could keep Teddy from upsetting Potter, keep him quiet and out of the way, then Potter would know that Draco was capable of it. He could use this. If he could play the situation well enough, it would strengthen rather than worsen his child's position.
He tried to cling to that thought all night, to use it to calm himself when sleep wouldn't come and the memories got too loud. He had something to fight for now, and he would not fail them.
Potter seemed to be in a good mood the following morning, humming to himself as he made breakfast. "Have you written that letter to Luna yet?"
"I was going to do it this evening, or tomorrow, sorry." Draco answered. Writing to Luna was something he was looking forward to, like his studies, and he needed to pace himself, to have positive things that he could look forward to.
"It's no problem, just reminding you - I always forget when I'm meant to be sending letters." Harry grinned. He was still wearing his pyjamas. "I uh… I hope you don't mind, but yesterday I bought Teddy a couple of toys and I thought maybe…" He quickly levitated a matching pair of teddy bears onto the table. One was a fluffy dark brown, and the other was sleek and almost-silver. "I thought maybe we could give him one each. The blond one is from you."
Draco nodded quietly, not sure he could trust himself to speak at that moment, because an inconvenient lump had formed in his throat. He ate the food Harry put in front of him, because he needed to keep his strength up and Potter was already suspicious about his diet.
"Are you ready?" Harry asked.
Draco stared at him for a moment, before deciding it would be best to point out the obvious. "Potter, you're wearing pyjamas."
Harry glanced down, and swore under his breath. "Oh, uh. I'll go get changed, and I don't know if you wanted to grab a book or anything…" There was something in the way Harry was speaking that made Draco suspicious. He wasn't sure what, exactly, Potter was lying about, but Potter had never been any good at not telling the truth.
Draco wasn't quite sure what the correct dress code was for meeting the aunt that had been disowned before you were born, or for meeting the first cousin once removed that you had hoped to never meet. So he pulled on some smarter clothes and checked himself in the mirror. He looked like he was standing with authority and confidence. It was authority and confidence he didn't feel, but it would hold, at least for now. He told himself he was ready to be brought in disgrace before the woman who had been thrown from his family, who had fallen but nowhere near as low as Draco had.
By the time he came downstairs, Potter was already waiting, a brilliant smile on his face. "Do you want me to go first or-"
Draco nodded, grabbing the bear that Potter held out towards him and picking up some of the Floo powder. Potter strode forwards. "Tonks cottage." He threw the powder and stepped into the flames.
Absently, Draco wondered what would happen if he didn't step forwards, if he stayed here. But that could anger Potter, and he couldn't risk that. He threw the powder. "Tonks cottage." He stepped into the flame, arms crossed around his waist because he disliked how the Floo shook you. And then he stopped, and stepped out, brushing off the dust with a silent wave of his hand. He looked up, and froze.
It felt like a scene from the previous year, and his mind literally refused to process what it was seeing. Bellatrix was standing near the fire - but she wasn't holding Harry at wandpoint, she was embracing him. A short distance away, his mother was sitting with an infant on her lap, and Draco was afraid for them, but that wasn't what he was looking at. Draco understood the concept of weapon focus - that if someone had a wand on you, that was what you would focus your attention on, not their face. But here, it meant he couldn't look away from his aunt. It didn't make sense. She was dead.
She couldn't be here.
She looked up, and stepped forwards, her hair reflecting the light of the flames, but as she smiled he realised - it wasn't her. It wasn't Bellatrix, somehow. This was… this must have been Andromeda. She gazed at him, and her eyes were kind, but he still couldn't quite understand. "You must be my nephew…" She seemed to reach towards him, then changed her mind and offered him her hand to shake. "It's good to meet you, Draco."
"Thank you," Draco answered politely, shaking her hand. Now that he had dismissed the immediate sense of threat, he was looking around the room, and his attention turned to his mother. She smiled at him, letting Potter take the baby as she walked to stand beside him. He made his face stay impassive.
"Drommy said she and Harry could catch up over tea, if we wanted to talk?"
"Potter?" Draco asked, and Harry looked over, his arms curled gently around the infant he was holding. "May I go and… and speak to my mother?"
"Course. We'll have lunch together, but…" Potter paused. "Actually, Narcissa, can I just have a quick word?"
His mother turned and walked to Harry, leaving Draco standing awkwardly.
"I'll show you through to the drawing room…" Andromeda told him, walking ahead and letting him follow her.
Draco followed awkwardly in her wake.
"It really is good to meet you, Draco." Andromeda repeated. "I know the circumstances are difficult, but Cissy speaks highly of you."
"Thank you, Mrs. Tonks." Draco answered, considering what had been said. "If you and Potter are close, then why… why weren't you at the wedding?"
"Call me Andromeda, dear. Now, the day my Nymphadora got married was the happiest of my life, I was so…" Andromeda began, then shook her head, showing him into the drawing room and using her wand to warm a teapot, then pour out two cups. "No. The reason was… I knew Cissy would need that day, and that my being there would only cause problems. So I made sure that Teddy had one of his checkups at St. Mungos booked for that day."
A thrill of terror ran through Draco, and he took a steadying breath, careful to keep his arms at his sides. His child couldn't have a werewolf for a playmate. "Does…does Theodore take after his father, then?"
"Theo-" Andromeda repeated, before shaking her head. "Teddy is short for Edward." Draco resisted the urge to comment on the fact that the two names were almost identical in length. "And in answer to your question, it's his mother he takes after - he's a metamorphmagus. It can cause health problems when they're young if they rearrange their vital organs, so he has checkups regularly. I have a portkey to get there immediately in an emergency." She gestured at the locket at her throat.
"Oh… I… hope he's alright." Draco answered carefully, murmuring thanks when she passed over a teacup. It felt strange, trying to be polite with this woman that he'd been brought up to despise. But he would do it, because hopefully then he would get to speak to his mother. He was relieved he at least didn't need to worry about his child's second cousin being a threat.
"He's responding well to treatment." She smiled at him. "Harry said you're taking some classes this year?"
Draco nodded, rattling off his subjects. "I didn't study much in sixth year, but I will catch up."
"Of course you will, Cissy says you're a smart boy. Let me just fetch some biscuits for you… Cissy still likes the ones with jam?"
Draco nodded again, trying to sit smartly, to look calm and in control and everything he had been brought up to be. As Andromeda left the room, he heard his mother's voice - raised just a little more than was respectable. He hurried to the door, pushing it open and straining to hear.
"-such things matter, it's traditional to ask before the wedding." There was real emotion in her voice, and that frightened him - his mother was always in control, never outwardly emotional. If she was this distraught, Potter must have been considering sending him to Azkaban. He didn't understand. He'd been trying so hard, and Potter had just bought him all those textbooks. He couldn't make out the words of Harry's garbled reply, not without edging down the corridor, and he was to wait in the drawing room.
Andromeda reappeared with a plate of biscuits, and Draco quickly returned to his armchair, making himself smile and thank her as he took a biscuit. Andromeda watched him curiously. "Draco, I know… I know things might be difficult right now. But I want you to realise… your mother loves you, a great deal. Now, I'm not a fool. I realise that she's only so eager to get back in contact with me after all of these years because of you."
"I…" Draco wasn't sure how to respond to that, because that was true, and yet Andromeda had welcomed him and treated him with a kindness he didn't deserve. He was Death Eater scum. He would never be wanted in society. His arm seemed to itch, his mind burning with awareness of the brand that marked him as serving the Dark Lord.
"I know it's not my place to ask, but please don't cut her out from your life. You're all she has." Andromeda smiled, a little sadly. "She needs you."
"I don't want to cut her out!" Draco protested, feeling tears welling up. "I miss her so much, I-"
Andromeda gasped softly, and then walked over to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pressing her face against his hair. "It'll be alright, Draco. I'll make it alright." She sounded so like his mother at that moment that the tears did spill, and he hid his face against her sleeve. She stroked her fingers through his hair with tenderness, the way that Mother had when he was a child. "Harry's a good boy. I'll make things alright." She stepped aside after a moment, pulling a handkerchief from a pocket for him so he could dry his face. She looked down at him and smiled, just as the door opened, and his mother walked in. Andromeda nodded sharply, and walked out, back to Potter.
There was a moment where Draco sat frozen, his mother at the entrance to the room. Then she drew her wand and locked the door. She walked over to him and held out her arms. Draco rose and rushed to her, her arms enfolding him as her hand rubbed his back.
"I heard you and Potter argue, Mother."
"It was nothing. He simply… was insensitive, that is all." She took a deep breath. "A misunderstanding." She gazed at him, tipping his chin up with her hand, looking closely. "You haven't been sleeping well."
"Well enough, Mother." Draco promised. "Is he… does he want to get rid of me?"
"No," she answered. "He's aware of how precarious your position is. He was concerned about how you had been eating and sleeping, but…" She shook her head, dismissing that from concern. "Has he been kind to you?"
Draco nodded, because it was the truth. Potter's actual actions to him had been careful, tender. The confusion Potter seemed to create without even trying wasn't an intended cruelty, he didn't think.
"Is there anything else you need from the Manor?" Narcissa asked gently. "He said you're going to be studying for your NEWTs." Draco looked at her, and he could see the pride shining in her eyes.
"Maybe some more clothes, if there are any… Potter has been very generous. I'm going to be taking Ancient Runes, and I know there are a few books in the library that would be useful. I might have to ask you to send more."
"Of course," she was smiling now, and Draco already understood. If Potter would allow him to write for books, the two of them would be able to correspond on the flyleaves. It could be dangerous but it was a risk he was willing to take if it would mean she would be able to speak with him.
"I missed you, Mother. How have you been?"
"Good. Concerned a little about how my precious boy was doing. I've been… I've been trying to clean the Manor, that keeps me busy." A shiver ran through her, but she tried to conceal it, and Draco wondered what it would be like to remain in that place, with all that had happened.
"I… I'm glad you're speaking to Andromeda. She and Potter get on, so…"
"Andromeda has promised she'll open up ways of communication," his mother reassured. "And Potter… you're sure he hasn't…" She looked at him, and there were so many questions in her eyes.
"He's been kind," Draco repeated. "He… he really seems willing to let the past remain the past. I've been trying to tidy the house a little, he doesn't let me cook. He does it himself, the muggle way."
Mother's lips pressed together in silent disapproval.
"He's good at it though, mother," Draco answered, feeling a little defensive. "And it's interesting to watch. Oh, the Lovegood girl appeared yesterday evening, and I made her some of your soup."
"How… how is she?" Narcissa asked carefully. "After everything?"
"Well enough. She seemed… content." Draco answered. It was hard to tell with Luna, but he thought she was satisfied with her life. "And I am trying with Potter, to make him happy."
"I know you are," Mother smiled sadly, stroking his hair. "You're such a brave boy, Draco. I'm so proud of you for trying to do this. Drommy says Potter normally visits at least once a week. If you can persuade him to let you come… if I can't be there, I'll meet with Drommy another day."
"I'll try," Draco replied, and the two of them sat down, Narcissa summoning the plate of biscuits and the teacups. "Have you heard any more about Father?"
"Not yet. Last I heard he's still alive." Mother's face was cold, closed off. "He isn't my concern any more, Draco. My worry is you. I want you to stay out of trouble, do you hear me?"
"I will, Mother." Draco promised. The conversation drifted on, and he reassured he was well, that Potter seemed unwilling to demand spousal consortium, that he was excited to commence his studies and would be doing so at the start of the following week. He didn't mention the child growing inside of him because it would complicate matters, and Narcissa seemed to be only just holding herself together.
Eventually, Andromeda's voice drifted through the door. "Cissy, if you can unlock this we can have lunch."
Lunch was a strange affair. There was tension between everyone there, and no one seemed willing to say much. But they ate, and Teddy seemed delighted to add two more of his namesake to his collection, babbling away and grabbing at them from his position in Andromeda's lap.
"If it's alright with you, Andromeda, I'd like to go home now." Harry said softly. "I think I need to have a conversation with Draco, about what we discussed."
"Of course," Andromeda replied. "Good luck, both of you." She swept first Harry and then Draco into an embrace. Mother nodded smartly at Potter, and then shook Draco's hand, before leaning in to press a kiss to his forehead.
"I'll be in touch." There was such a certainty in her voice, and Draco drew strength from it as he returned to the fireplace.