As he stepped through to their house, Draco felt himself tense. He was certain that something was upsetting Potter, and there was something in the way he'd said that they needed to talk... Draco got the horrible feeling he'd done something wrong, but he didn't know what. He made himself keep his arms at his sides. Curling up around their child could land him in more trouble, could draw attention to it when he needed Harry to be ignorant about the child for their own safety.
"Draco... uh..." Harry hesitated, his entire body tense with energy. "Shall we go sit down?" He gestured through to the living room. "We... we should talk. Why don't you go and... uh, I'll grab some tea." Harry sounded more nervous than Draco had seen him, and Draco had the vaguest memory of fourth year, of watching from a distance as Harry tried to get up the courage to ask a girl out.
He went to sit as he was told, curling up at one end of the sofa. He kept the movement natural, tucking his knees up against his chest. The fact it would offer some protection to the little scorpion growing inside of him was a comfort, if Harry did lash out. He thought of the train back in sixth year. How he'd been terrified and angry at the world, and Harry's frozen body had been an easy target for him to hurt.
"Hey..." Harry's voice was surprisingly soft as he walked into the room carrying two teacups on a tray. Draco didn't think he'd ever get used to how Potter did things like that the Muggle way. "Do... do you mind if I sit with you?" Potter asked, and he looked at Draco as though he was something fragile, breakable.
"Fine by me." Draco answered. Harry sat down at the far end of the sofa, passed him his own teacup.
"Did... did you and Narcissa have a good talk?" Harry asked, and Draco wasn't sure if it was a trick, or if Potter just wanted to fill the silence.
"It was good to see her. After... I miss her, a lot. Thank you for that." If Potter was expecting the way most people did, Draco would have been making it clear how thankful he was. But Potter... Potter wasn't like that. Potter didn't seem to act that way, and it was confusing but reassuring in its own way even if he didn't understand it.
"It's alright... Andromeda..." Potter hesitated, staring at the cup in his hand. Draco resisted the urge to point out you were meant to drink the tea, then gaze at it. "She said a few things that I... That I hadn't realised. And I'm sorry. I haven't been good to you."
Draco could have laughed at that. "You got me the textbooks." Harry had been beyond kind to him. Better than he could have expected, definitely better than he deserved.
"I know. That's not..." Harry was still staring at his drink, but he lifted his head and looked at Draco. It looked like he was close to tears.
"Potter?" Draco reached out for his hand. "What's wrong?"
"I thought... I've not been clear, about anything. And that's... I thought you knew." Harry's hand wrapped around his own, squeezed softly.
Draco returned the squeeze and stared at him blankly. "If there's something I need to know, perhaps the best way forward would be to tell me?" He would manage whatever demands Potter had of him. At least then it would answer the questions that had hung unasked over their relationship. If Draco knew what was expected, he could work out how to use it - he was smart, and he had good survival instincts.
"You can write to your mum. And your friends. And uh, leave the house, just let me know where you're going and when you'll be back so I'm not... I worry about you." Harry hesitated. "Anything you're not sure of, you can ask me. And I wouldn't... I'd never hurt you, Draco."
Draco thought of school, thought of punches and curses and lying bleeding in the bathroom, and held his tongue.
"If you've got any questions-"
"You upset my mother. She... I heard her raise her voice at you. She never raises her voice." Draco was almost in awe of that simple fact, the idea that Potter could do something that caused that much of a problem.
"I... asked her something very stupid." Harry admitted. "And she... she thought I didn't want to marry you."
"You didn't want to marry me." Draco argued, trying to ignore the fact their hands were still linked, ignore the comfort that he drew from it.
"I wanted you to be safe. And it... I'm ashamed of myself, because I managed to make sure you were safe, but I didn't let you know that. What... What Andromeda said, about her expectations of marriage, before she met Edward... What your mother's been through..." He shook his head, and Draco's heart ached for him, even though in the back of his mind he was already planning who to write to now it was permitted.
"You've been kind to me, Potter." Draco tried to reassure him. He thought of how the Gryffindors were always in each other's space, how they would embrace each other for the slightest reason. Perhaps that was what Potter needed now. He held out his arms, and let Potter curl against him. He rubbed his hand over Potter's back, feeling the strength of the muscle there.
"Just... please, Draco. I need you to know that I won't hurt you."
"I know," Draco soothed, even though he wasn't sure that was true.
He could feel Harry crying in his arms, it didn't make sense. Harry had been so good to him since he arrived, and yet Harry seemed to think he'd failed.
"Maybe on Monday we can start to look at our books, sort out timetables, or-"
"I can draw them up," Draco reassured him, knowing that it had always been Granger that had done it for Potter when they'd been at school. That at least was something he could do.
"Thanks," Harry muttered. "You'll write to your friends, won't you? They can come visit if you'd like."
"Pansy tried to hand you over to the Dark Lord." Draco reminded and Potter laughed.
"Well, he's dead now so we don't need to worry about that. It never... I never meant to make you lonely, Draco." He hesitated a little. "You... you look exhausted. Have you been sleeping?"
"Not great." Draco conceded.
"What would help?" Harry asked. "You could nap this afternoon, if it-"
"Can you stay?" Draco asked, the words escaping him before he could stop them. He'd slept better when Potter had been in his bed than at any other time in this house, and he knew his child needed him to sleep, to help them grow strong.
"Course. You want to go to your room, or-"
"Here works." Draco answered, adjusting so that he was settled with his head in Potter's lap. Potter hesitated only a moment before he started to stroke his fingers through Draco's hair, and Draco felt himself relax. Potter waved his hand to summon a book, and Draco felt himself relax, because for whatever stupid reason his mind had decided that Potter being there meant it was safe.
He was asleep too quickly to question that impulse.
When Draco opened his eyes, the room had darkened. He was aware of fingers combing through his hair - but they were gentle, careful. He remembered Potter. Remembered what they had spoken about, the fact he could write to his friends, to his mother. He allowed himself a moment simply to savour that knowledge.
A lamp had appeared on the arm of the sofa, and it seemed like Potter had almost finished reading his book. Draco felt rested, and that sensation was such a relief he could have cried. Rather than showing such weakness, he stretched.
"You could have woken me," he pointed out, sitting up when Potter moved his hand away from Draco's hair.
"You looked peaceful," Potter answered. Draco found himself wondering if Potter could truly be so without guile, truly eager to help and with no hidden edge to his words. "You were exhausted, weren't you?"
"I..." Draco paused, not quite sure what answer to give. He'd gone longer without sleep. He'd slept well when Harry was there. He needed to double check his sleeping draught to ensure that it wouldn't cause problems for the child within him. "I'm managing well enough."
"I don't doubt that you believe that." Harry shot him a grin. "Look... is there anything I can do to help? I mean, you said that worked for you, right?"
"I can hardly ask you to spend your afternoons patting my hair, Potter. Even I'm not that spoilt."
"That wasn't…" For a moment, it looked like Potter might answer with sincerity, and Draco didn't think he could handle that, couldn't manage to have his emotions touched when they were already raw. But then Potter smirked. "Wasn't thinking of that. I can try and sort out my room, fix the bed up so you could sleep there if it'd help."
Draco hesitated, and then looked at Harry. "What do you mean, fix the bed up?" He'd not bothered looking in the room Harry was using when he was tidying the house. That was Harry's space, and he wouldn't enter it unless he was told to.
"Oh, uh..." Potter shrugged, suddenly awkward. "It's a bit of a mess is all. It's a single bed, but it works fine."
Arching an eyebrow, Draco stared at him. "You gave me a double bed."
"You were having a shit time, and I wanted you to... I mean, you're used to a manor." Potter flailed slightly. He shrugged. "I just thought you should have the best room, and I was gonna sort mine out eventually."
"If you want to share with me, it makes sense to use my bed." Draco said the words before he thought any better of it.
"Okay. Just... if it..." Potter hesitated. "If you need me to go, I won't mind. Kick me out in the middle of the night if you need to. I don't... I mean, I don't know much but..."
Draco was careful to press his lips together and not to agree with that last statement of Potter's. "I'm willing to try it. I want to do well in my studies, and they will definitely be easier if I am not exhausted, assuming you are willing to..." It was humiliating to ask to be held, especially when there was no hidden meaning, no desperate attempt to soothe another's wrath. But his scorpion needed him to be rested.
"I'll go cook, you can write to Luna," Potter reminded him. Draco headed up to the library to grab some parchment, planning on sending her a quick note. He knew that Blaise and Pansy had both returned to the school to complete their studies, and that he could trust them to keep an eye on Lovegood and keep her from trouble. And if Luna showed them his letter, it would be proof he was alive and well enough to write.
He'd finished the letter by the time Harry called him to dinner. The food was good, warming, and Draco ate hungrily. The exhaustion of the morning and the conversation that had followed left him famished. After he had got the dishes to wash themselves, he went to shower, and then to lay down in his bed. He'd pulled some of his pyjamas on, hoping that was correct, what Potter wanted. He made sure they had long sleeves, so the bandages at his elbow would be covered. He didn't understand why Harry would do this.
It wasn't long before he felt his three layers of wards pinging, one after the other, and Harry pushed open the door. He was wearing pyjamas as well, but his were mismatched and his hair was sticking up worse than ever. Harry walked over, sitting awkwardly at the end of the bed.
"Look... Draco, we don't need to do this. And I don't want anything from you. I just... I just want you to sleep."
Draco shuffled up, and nodded, lying stiff as Harry moved in beside him. It felt weird. He hadn't shared a bed with someone without them wanting sex. But when Harry said he didn't want anything... he said it almost like it was a reassurance, not blame.
Draco found himself pondering what would happen if Potter took a lover. He was surprised to find he disliked the idea. It would be bad for his scorpion, could divide Harry's attention. He pushed those thoughts away. It was so strange, lying there, aware of his husband's warm body less than a foot from him. But the same part of his mind that had made him relax earlier helped him feel calmer now. It wasn't long before he could hear the noise of Harry's snores.
The noise didn't upset him. It was a promise that he wasn't alone, that he and his child would have Potter's protection as long as they were careful. It soothed him to sleep.
The next morning, he woke to the sensation of a warm hand rubbing his side. He froze, tensing at what the touch might want of him, and his eyes blinked open obediently. Potter. He fought down a smile as he moved to sit up, untangling himself from Potter's limbs. "Should I fetch some tea?"
"That would be amazing," Potter agreed, tugging on his own pyjama shirt to hide a thin sliver of skin that had been revealed. Draco went to get it ready, preparing two cups of tea. He was going to take a look at their study schedules today.
When he returned to the room, Potter was still blinking sleepily at the world, his glasses set at an angle. Draco held out the tea for him before he took his own cup. Potter took a sip, and smiled.
"Did you sleep okay, Draco?" Potter asked, and Draco nodded, a little ashamed of the truth. "Do you want to do more tidying today?"
"I can, I know you've got other things to do." Draco answered quickly. He wondered if he could write to his mother and ask for some clothing he had left behind when he'd first moved in with Potter. His gaze went to the wardrobe in the corner of the room. He'd have space there for a few more robes and dress-shirts, if Potter permitted it.
Potter nodded, easily, and Draco tried to ignore the way his chest felt lighter and easier without the constant fear he had been feeling. Potter seemed easy to please, and Draco knew he could learn how to keep him happy. It seemed almost painfully easy to earn Potter's kindness.