Unforseen Alliance

"We've got to move it; we've got no other choice."

"Harry! Are you mad? You can't do that! The Cup is in three weeks, it would be unheard of to move it now!"

"Lee, I don't want to do it. I have to. It's against Wizarding law, and that's that. You can't build Quidditch pitches within sixteen kilometers of any Muggle town or city. It's the law."

"I know that, but-"

"Yes, you know that. However, obviously some idiot from the planning department let it slip his mind. Now we have a bit of a problem. The Cup is in three weeks, and we have to move the stadium."

"But-"

"No buts, we will move it. If we have to delay the World Cup, then so be it."

"Do you hear what you're saying? Postpone the World Cup!"

"I know Lee, I know. But as head of this department, I am refusing to break the law. It's dangerous; the law was made to help keep our world a secret. I don't intend to jeopardize that."

"Harry, I understand, really. But-"

Lee was cut off again by a knock on the door to Harry's office. A moment later a young, bright-eyed secretary popped her head around the door.

"Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Potter, but your ex-wife's on Floo-2, she says it's urgent."

Harry sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "Thank you, Nora. Tell her I'll be right with her."

Nora nodded. "Yes, sir," she said and shut the door.

"Look," said Harry, turning back to Lee Jordan's head floating in his office fireplace, "I don't care what you have to do. You will have that stadium moved, even if that means delaying the cup. Do you understand?"

Lee finally realized that Harry was not going to budge on this issue.

"All right, Harry, it'll get done," he said, and disappeared.

Once he was gone, Harry readied himself for whatever it was his ex-wife had to throw at him next, and pushed the number two button on the fireplace mantle. Instantly Hermione Potter's (she had yet to change her name back) head appeared, strict and business-like, as she always was. "What is it, 'Mione?"

"Oh, Harry, I hate to do this to you on such short notice, but I need you to take the girls this weekend."

"What? Hermione, I can't! Pansy's dinner party is this weekend and I promised Ron I'd be there. That's why I asked you to take them! I mean, Ron loves her, but not enough to spend a night with no one but Slytherins for company, you and I know Ron well enough to know that. I can't back out on him." Harry hoped he sounded firm, as he had with Lee. No such luck.

"Harry, you have to. You can take them with you if it's necessary," she told him.

"Pansy's not going to like that..."

"Pansy is one Weasley I could care less about. Please do this for me! One of my clients got into a spot of trouble in Spain. I've just got to go!"

Harry could feel the headache threatening to overwhelm him. It wasn't enough with the Quidditch pitch fiasco. Oh, no. Hermione has to sack him with the girls as well.

Not that he didn't love his daughters very much; he did. But facing the wrath of Pansy Weasley was not something to which he was looking forward.

"Can't Ginny take them?" he tried, unsuccessfully.

"She's in Egypt with Colin, Harry."

"Right, honeymoon, of course," he mumbled. He was out of options, there was no way out.

"All right, 'Mione, I'll take them."

Hermione's face filled with relief. "Oh thank Merlin! I have to leave straight away. Can you take them now?"

"I don't leave here for another two hours, you'll have to send them here," he said, wincing at the thought.

"Right then, I'll Floo them along in a bit. And thanks Harry, you've no idea how much of a relief this is."

Harry nodded. "I understand, but you owe me. Infernal woman..."

Hermione smiled. "With talk like that, sometimes I wonder why we separated."

Harry snorted as her head disappeared. He couldn't keep himself from thinking that he knew exactly why they had separated. They'd divorced because there had never been any love to begin with.

No, Harry corrected himself. There had been love, just not the kind we were looking for.

It had been a union of convenience, he knew that now. After Ron had taken a fancy to Pansy (for reasons neither Harry nor Hermione had ever been able to fathom) the only natural thing for them to do was to pair off with each other.

It turned out to be the most unnatural thing they had ever experienced. They'd driven each other crazy with bickering. Harry simply could not take her constant nagging. Likewise, Hermione found fault in what she called Harry's "utter indifference to everything." Only Harry wasn't indifferent to everything, just everything involving their life together. Save their daughters of course.

Harry had never felt the need to express his opinion on anything simply because he never had an opinion. He had never felt anything but indifference towards their relationship. It wasn't even until the end that he realized that the indifference was really disguised unhappiness. A shield, to keep from hurting Hermione. Because he did love her, really he did...just not in the way he'd originally thought. And the arguing was not the worst part, not by a long shot. The worst part, by far, had been the silence.

In that silence had been all the unsaid words: words whispered, thought, moaned, shouted. In that silence they had remained, and in that silence, they had both been screaming.

Finally they made the decision to divorce. To them it had been nothing more than a physical form of the mental separation they had already had for so long. To everyone who hadn't heard that insane, dismal quiet that had permeated their life, it had come as a complete shock.

Harry and Hermione Potter were separating? It was simply unspeakable. However, apparently it wasn't undoable, because they did it, and neither regretted the decision to do so.

Harry pondered, as he waited for his daughters, that they had been the only rays of light in their ever darkening room. From darkness comes light, and the girls were full of light.

So he had moved out and found a flat not far from the house. In regards to divorce, the wizarding law was really not much different than Muggle. However, Harry and Hermione had come to an understanding when it came to custody of their daughters. They both worked full time, but Hermione was a wizarding lawyer, and had the option of working at home when necessary. So she took the girls more often.

That was almost two years ago, and not much had changed since. Cordelia was twelve, and already in Hogwarts, beginning her second year in September. Asia would be starting her first the year after. However now, they were all home, Cordelia, Asia, Kimberley, and Brittany, which meant more work on both Harry and especially Hermione's part.

Harry was so lost in thought on all this that he nearly jumped out of his skin when Asia shot out of the fireplace, coughing and covered with soot. He was just coming toward her with a dirt brush when nine-year old Kimberley blasted out as well, in the same condition. Harry sighed and got to business, dusting them off as best he could.

"I hate Floo Powder!" said Kimberley, while Harry set to work on her sister.

"That's okay," he said, smiling. "I don't like it much either."

When he finished, Harry stood back and surveyed them, and then something occurred to him.

"Where are the others?" he asked in the tone of a worried parent.

What he got was a shrug from both parties.

"I dunno," Asia said. "They were right behind us."

Just then there was a knock at the door and this time Seamus Finnigan's head poked around the edge.

"Hey Harry."

"What's up, Seamus?" he asked distractedly.

The other man grinned, stretching out his freckles "These yours?" he asked, swinging the door wide open and ushering in two more black-haired, dust-covered children.

"Nope," said Harry, grinning back. "Never seen 'em before in my life."

"Dad," Cordelia groaned, rolling her eyes as she was prone to doing in his presence.

The smallest of them all, six year old Brittany Potter, squealed out a high-pitched "Daddy!" and raced forward to attach herself to his leg.

Harry pulled her off as quickly as he could.

"Not so fast, Brit," he said, drawing out the dirt-brush again. "Let me clean you off first. You're getting soot all over my trousers."

Brittany grinned up at him through a smudged face and said: "Okay, Daddy."

Cordelia took it upon herself to clean up and by the time Harry was done with her youngest sister, she was clean as well.

"Now," said Harry, assessing her. "What happened?"

Cordelia got defensive. "I choked! I guess it came out muffled...But I only went one grate too far!"

Harry nodded. "Alright, calm down. Nobody's accusing you."

He noticed Seamus was still in the room, watching the scene with a smile.

"Thanks Shay, I appreciate it."

"Not at all! It's not everyday my office is invaded by two gorgeous Potter girls," he said, winking.

Brittany beamed proudly and Cordelia blushed, turning a deep crimson. Harry was a little surprised by her reaction, but then the thought of Hermione in their second year came to mind.

Seamus chuckled too, and exited, but not before promising to take the girls out for ice cream before their vacation was over. Once he was gone, Harry took his parent stance.

"All right, you four," he said, sizing them all up.

Asia sat in one of the arm chairs in front of his desk, flipping through his Quidditch magazine. Kimberley was having a one-sided conversation with a fish in the tank near his desk. Cordelia was standing by the fireplace, a scowl on her face, and her arms crossed over her chest in a way that made Harry uncomfortably aware of the fact that she was rapidly approaching her teen years. And Brittany was...wait a minute.

"Where's Brittany?"

Asia and Kimberley shrugged, Cordelia rolled her eyes.

"Here I am!" squeaked the little raven-haired imp.

Harry's eyes scoured the room for the source of the voice, and frowned when he found it.

"Brittany, love, what are you doing under my desk?"

She gazed up at him with glittering emerald eyes, the only one of the four who hadn't inherited her mother's almond colored orbs.

"It reminds me of my cupboard," she said simply, with the utmost sincerity.

Harry nodded, but he wasn't very happy about it. Since she was old enough to reach the handle, Brittany had been sealing herself away in the cupboard under the first floor staircase. In the beginning, Harry and Hermione hadn't been able to figure out where she was; only that she would disappear for hours on end. Finally, getting worried, they had bribed a seven-year-old Kimberley with a new doll to find out. Harry remembered the day well.

***flashback***

"Hermione, I though bribery was on the no-no list when it came to parenting," Harry had said as they'd stood outside of the children's playroom.

"Not when it concerns tracking down my youngest daughter and where she's disappearing to," Hermione had answered stiffly. This was around the time when they were reaching their wits end with each other, so of course everything she said was spoken stiffly.

So once Kimberley was finally convinced, she had led them out of the room, down the stairs, and then stopped. She looked at them, and then at the door to the cupboard, then silently turned and walked back upstairs.

Hermione threw Harry a worried glance.

"You don't think..."she began, trailing off, clearly wondering why she would choose a cupboard. Worrying that she had somehow found out about her fathers past.

Harry and Hermione had both agreed that they would not inform the girls about their fathers fame until all of them were old enough to understand the vastness of it.

"Why would she...?" he had returned in the same manner.

Hermione could only shake her head and shrug. Slowly, she leaned forward and swung open the door. There she was, sitting cross-legged on the floor of the cupboard with her favorite blanket. When the light hit her eyes the little girl squinted, but as her eyes adjusted and she identified the intruders she gasped and scurried back into the far corner.

Hermione was in shock, standing frozen in the doorway, obviously not at all sure how to handle the situation. Harry realized that would have to be the one to act. Sending one last look at the perplexed Hermione, he lowered himself onto his knees and slowly crawled forward. As he entered, Brittany scooted herself further toward the back wall. Harry halted his movements.

"Brittany? What's wrong?"

The girl was silent. Harry looked over his shoulder and met Hermione's watchful eyes.

"Herm, could you shut the door please?"

Hermione eyed him warily, "Are you sure?"

Harry nodded and she hesitated just a moment longer before shutting the door and plunging them both into darkness. Harry didn't move until he heard Hermione's retreating steps. When he was sure she was gone he turned to the general direction in which his youngest daughter was cowering.

"Do you want to tell me why you're hiding in here now?"

There was no answer.

"Brittany? Come on, sweetie. Why won't you talk to me?"

There was a sniffling sound to his left and he fought the urge to move toward it. He remained silent and waited. Finally, her sweet, childish voice broke through the darkness like a silver bell.

"'Cause you an' Mummy awr mad at me," she said, coupling it with a soft sob.

Harry let a sight escape his lips.

"Brittany! We're not mad. Mummy and I were worried. Why are you spending all your time under here?"

The silence took hold again as the youngest Potter considered her answer.

"'Cause I like it here," she said softly, but firmly.

"You like it?" Harry asked, confused.

"Yeth," she said, her baby-lisp still not entirely departed at her four years of age.

Harry settled his back against the door of the cupboard, having made a decision he intended to follow through with. Brittany was a very intelligent little girl, and he was tired of keeping it from them. It was time they knew what their father had been up against in his early childhood. He would tell Brittany first, make sure she understood. Then he would tell the others. He had waited long enough.

"Come here, Baby," he said, holding out his arms to her. Now that his eyes had adjusted to the darkness, he found that there was just enough light through the cracks on the edges of the doors to illuminate her vaguely. "Daddy wants to tell you a story."

"A 'tory?"

There was some scrambling around and soon Harry found his lap occupied by a small child and her ratted, well-loved blanket.

"Whas the 'tory 'bout?"

Harry sighed again, and shut his eyes, the memories rushing back to him. When he reopened them a moment later, he felt as ready as he supposed he'd ever be for this moment.

"This story is about a little boy."

Brittany gazed up at him, silently waiting for him to continue.

"And this little boy was the son of a very kind, and good wizarding couple. They took good care of him and loved him very, very much."

"Like Mummy and you is to me and my thisters?"

Harry nodded smiling down at her. "Yes, exactly like that."

Except that Mum and Dad loved each other as well.

"Now...that's about where the happy part of this story ends. Because there was an evil wizard, that didn't really like the good witch and wizard much-,"

Harry broke off and took a deep breath.

"What was the evil wissurds name? Why didn't he like 'em?"

"The wizard's name was Voldemort, and-"

Harry had to break off again as Brittany it seems had been overcome with a fit of giggles.

"Oh Daddy, that's a funny name! Why'd they call 'em that?"

"I don't know honey; they just did...listen to the story now."

"Okay."

"Well Voldemort didn't like the couple because they were fighting against him. See, Voldemort wanted to take over the world, and get rid of all the Muggles and the Muggle-borns, and the couple didn't want that to happen."

Brittany once again interrupted the story. "Mummy's Muggle-born, right?"

"Yes, your Mummy's a Muggle-born."

The little girl scowled. "Well, Voldemort sounds like a big 'ol bully to me!"

Harry chuckled. "Yes, that certainly is one way to put it. Anyway, Voldemort wanted to get rid of the good couple because they were causing a lot of trouble for his plans...and so one night, he came to the couple's house, and he attempted to end their lives."

Brittany's eyes widened and she gasped. "Oh Daddy! He didn't, did he? Even the little boy?"

Harry shook his head. "No, the little boy survived, however his parents did not. The only reason the little boy survived was that his mother died trying to save him. Her love protected him, and the killing spell rebounded off of him and hit the evil wizard instead. He disappeared, and the boy became famous in the wizarding world, for the only known person to ever have survived the killing curse. He was known as The Boy Who Lived."

He waited but the little girl didn't interrupt again, so he continued.

"Now the little boy would have grown up in the spot-light, and could have possibly become spoiled and mean. So a very wise man said that it would be best, if he went to live with his Muggle relatives.

"But the Muggles-the little boy's Aunt and Uncle-didn't like magic, or witches, or wizards. They lied to the little boy and told him that his parents died in a car crash, for he was far too little to remember what had happened. The treated him very badly, and made him sleep in the cupboard, under the stairs, and the poor little boy never knew that he was at all magical or extraordinary in any way, and he grew up feeling alone and unloved."

Finally, Brittany interrupted again. "Daddy, I don't like this...it's sad."

Harry smiled down at her. "It'll get better, honey."

"One night, on the eve of the boy's eleventh birthday, he was found by a great, kind man who was a friend of the very wise man, and he took the boy away, and showed him all of the wonderful things he could do. The little boy was going to Hogwarts, and he had finally found his place, he was special, he was extraordinary, and most of all...the little boy had people who loved him.

"The end," he said, and though the story was far from over, he had gotten the overall point across.

Brittany was silent for quite a long time after Harry finished his story. He was unaware that the other three Potter daughters were pressed against the cupboard door, and that they had been listening to the whole story with rapt attention.

Then his youngest spoke again. "Why'd you tell me that 'tory?"

Harry looked down at her with a solemn face.

"Because the little boy...was me."

There was a loud gasp from behind the door that made Harry jump and without thinking he moved away from it, with Brittany in his arms and threw open the door. His eyes widened as Kimberley, Asia, and finally Cordelia tumbled over each other and into the cupboard along with them.

"And just what did you three think you were doing?" he demanded, although he was trying to control the smile attempting to play across his lips.

Cordelia was the first to recover from the fall, probably because she had the other two to break it. "We were...listening," she said innocently.

"I see."

Kimberley, the smallest of the three and the first to tumble through the door, looked up at him with adoring eyes. "Is it true, Daddy? Are you famous?"

Harry nodded, no visible emotion on his face.

"Your aunt and uncle were really that mean?" piped up Asia.

Harry nodded again. "Yes, but that's been long forgotten. As has all of it...but you had to know I suppose, someday."

Finally, Brittany spoke. "I still love you, Daddy," she said, and wrapped her arms around his neck, as if proving it so.

Harry smiled and hugged her back; finally he pulled her away and looked down at her glowing face. "Now," he said firmly. "Do you understand why your mother and I worried when you took refuge in this cupboard?"

Brittany nodded. "But-does that mean I have to stop?"

Harry sighed, and slowly shook his head. "No Baby, you can do whatever you feel is right."

***

So Brittany had continued to seek refuge in her cupboard, and, after a shortened explanation, and a slightly longer argument with Hermione, she and Harry did not interrupt the pattern.

Harry sighed as Brittany ducked her head and back under his desk. What had he been saying...Oh, right.

"I've got to work for another couple of hours, and then we'll be heading back to my house-"

Asia squealed, interrupting him. "Oh! Are we staying with you tonight?"

Harry shook his head. "No, you'll probably end up staying the night with Marigold and Violet."

Cordelia looked up from her place by the mantle where she'd been considering his office carpeting. "We're going to Auntie Pansy and Uncle Ron's house?"

"Yes, Aunt Pansy's holding a dinner party for some of the Sly-erm, some of her old school friends. I promised your Uncle Ron I'd be there, so that's where we're going. I have to take you back to my house first so you can change into dress clothes. It's formal."

Asia scowled. "I hate dress robes."

Harry had never gotten used hearing the words 'Aunt Pansy', but as Ron was their godfather, it was only natural that Pansy be the godmother.

"Well, you'll have to wear them. Marigold and Violet will be wearing them as well."

Marigold was sixteen and Violet was thirteen; they were Ron and Pansy's only daughters. Hermione and Harry had always gotten a chuckle over the chosen names.

Asia continued to scowl but said nothing more.

Nodding, Harry walked over to the fireplace and took a handful of Floo Powder from the bowl. Throwing it in, he recited the words well known words "Ronald Weasley, sixteen Godric's Hollow."

It wasn't long before Pansy's face appeared in the flames. "Yes? Oh! Hello Harry, how can I help you?"

"You're going to have to set the children's table with four more plates."

Pansy scowled. "Hermione backed out on you? Just wonderful, now I'll have those four to deal with on top of our two."

Harry immediately got defensive. "I'll take care of them, Pansy. I didn't plan on any of this either."

Pansy nodded stiffly. "Whatever just make sure they're dressed for the occasion...and behaved."

Harry affirmed that they would be and Pansy's head disappeared with a pop. Three of the girls looked up at him with expectant eyes. He was sure Brittany was listening from under the desk.

"Well, you heard her. You don't need me to repeat it. Now I've got to run down to Alicia Spinnet's office and drop off some papers, her fireplace is being redone. I'll be back in about five minutes. Now be good, and for Merlin's sake stay out of the broom closet."

With that he left the room, sure that when he returned, all of the proto-types for the new Lightening Blaze 5000 series would be out and his office would be a mess.

He wasn't disappointed and after an expected scolding, Harry smiled and allowed the girls to zoom around the room. Provided they steer clear of the fish tank - after all, it was glass.

The two hours passed quickly and soon the girls were blinking in the sunlight outside the main office of the Department of Magical Games and Sports. Ever since the war when the original Ministry building had been destroyed, the different departments had been scattered throughout London. It was a bit of a controlled chaos, nevertheless, it was workable.

Harry fished his car keys out of the pocket of his robes and strode toward the beaten Pontiac Grand AM that was parked by the curb...basically the only car parked on the whole street.

Harry wasn't really sure why he drove; Apparating and even Flooing were far more instantaneous. However, Harry had never really been much for instant gratification, and he'd always loved the feeling of riding in a car. And actually driving one was so much better. So when he'd left Hogwarts he'd proceeded to procure himself a Muggle driver's license and transferred some of his Galleons into Muggle money to purchase a car. Besides, his home, work, and even Ron and Pansy's home were so near he really could have walked if need be.

Once all the girls were settled in the car and safely buckled; Asia, Kimberley, and Brittany in the back, Cordelia in the front, Harry plunged the key into the ignition and drove them home.

When they arrived, Harry wrenched the door open, struggling against the laundry basket full of clothes that had somehow been placed in front of the door. He knew exactly how it had moved, too...Shakespeare and Plato.

As he thought the names, so they appeared, skidding to halt in front of the door and barking incessantly.

"Alright, alright! Yes, we're home, now stop bloody barking!" Harry shouted over the ruckus the dogs were making, not to mention that behind him, all the girls were coaxing them on by cooing at them.

Shakespeare was Harry's giant English Sheep Dog, and Plato his little Yorkshire Terrier. Harry wasn't sure why exactly he'd chosen such greatly contrasting dogs, at the moment he wasn't even sure why he'd decided to get dogs at all...cats seemed much less noisy. There was a pounding sound from the floor above and somebody shouting to 'quiet those bloody dogs.' They were, after all, trying to sleep.

Harry rolled his eyes and threw the door of his flat open the rest of the way, quieting the dogs as they were now occupied with jumping all over the girls. He immediately went to the kitchen depositing his briefcase and keys.

"Girls, come on! We've got about an hour to be dressed, ready, and at Ron and Pansy's. Now go to your rooms and find your dress robes."

The girls slowly departed from the dogs and went to their rooms

Once he was sure they were no longer being distracted, Harry went to the cabinet under the sink and took out the dog food. Making sure they were both fed (Shakespeare tended to want to try and eat Plato's food as well as his own) he made his way to his own bedroom.

Forty minutes later, he was sitting in the living room, still waiting for his daughters to emerge.

Take after their mother when it comes to getting ready, it seems.

"Girls! We're already late, now get a move on!"

After what seemed like hours, but was really only ten minutes, the four girls emerged from their bedrooms and lined up in order of age. Harry stood to inspect them, the two dogs on either side of him, seeming to do likewise.

Cordelia was wearing dress robes of a shimmering silver color; they fit her...a bit snugly for Harry's liking.

"Delia, did your mother buy you those?"

She nodded, spinning around in a circle. "You like?"

"They're too tight," he said bluntly.

The girl glared. "Mother didn't think so."

Harry ignored her and turned his attention to Asia, whose robes were a dark blue, and then to Kimberley who wore pale yellow. Finally he looked down at Brittany, whose robes were a scarlet red. He chuckled.

"Brittany dear...I believe you have them on backwards."

Brittany looked down at her robes; she reached down the front and pulled out a tag. She giggled. "Yup, I do."

Harry watched as Cordelia helped right them.

"Alright," he said, straightening the tie on his suit. "Everyone to the car, we're really late."

Pansy's going to murder me.

***

In the car on the way to the Weasley's, Harry reached into the glove box, pulling out his favorite tape and popping it into the player. This produced mixed feelings from the girls.

"Ew! Dad, that's old stuff!" said Cordelia scowling.

"Yay! ABBA!" shouted Brittany and Asia at almost the exact same instant.

Kimberley just shrugged.

As the tape played and the tires rolled over the pavement, and Harry lost himself in the music. Waiting...waiting. There it was; Harry's favorite song.

"Half past twelve and I'm watching the late show in my flat all alone.

How I hate to spend the evening on my own.

Autumn winds

Blowing outside my windows as I look around the room.

And it makes me so depressed to see the gloom.

There's not a soul out there...no one to hear my prayer."

As the chorus came, the entire car began to sing along. Harry was even amused to see Cordelia mouthing the words at the window as she glared at it. He chuckled and continued to sing.

"Gimmie, Gimmie, Gimmie a man after midnight, won't somebody help me chase the shadows away.

"Gimmie, Gimmie, Gimmie a man after midnight, take me through the darkness to the break of the day."

And so the car continued, and that is how they pulled up to the Weasley's sprawling residence, music blaring and singing their hearts out. Not a normal wizarding family by any stretch of the imagination.

When they entered the house, it was bustling with people. Ron had said a few guests; he hadn't said the entire Slytherin house!

"Harry, mate! What took you so long?"

Harry tilted his head in the direction of the girls, who were reacquainting themselves with Violet and Marigold.

"'Mione left you with the girls?"

"She had to, one of her clients-something about Spain...oh hell, I don't know," he said, smiling comically.

Ron nodded sympathetically and patted his back. "That's alright, come on in! I'll get you a drink."

Harry followed Ron through the crowd of people in the expansive house towards the bar in the den.

Ron had come to be pretty well off. Just out of Hogwarts he'd suddenly decided to study Nature magic; he studied it day and night. Needless to say Hermione and Harry were amazed at the amount of effort he poured into his every day work. They were even more surprised when about six months after he had taken up the subject, their dearest Ron made a breakthrough. Through some complicated procedure that not even Hermione could understand, he had managed to find a way to utilize the energy that came from Nature Magic. A way to utilize meant that there was an unlimited amount of power now open to the wizarding world. Once magic could only come in short bursts, as the only magic available was that which was derived from wizards. Now, it was available from the earth; magic unlimited. They now had wizarding electricity

The results had been explosive; he'd gone public the moment he'd gained the wizarding equivalent of a copyright. So many mass producing companies had been interested in the idea. Ron had made a fortune. Pansy had been thrilled, not that they were doing badly before. The two had gotten married not a month after their graduation from Hogwarts to the shock of just about everyone. Pansy's inheritance had kept them on their feet for as long as was necessary, but necessity wasn't long. Ron had made his discovery, and set himself as one of Britain's premiere wizarding millionaires. It would be an understatement to say Harry and Hermione were proud of him.

When they arrived at the bar, Harry was surprised when Ron slipped behind the counter.

"Why didn't you hire somebody to do that?" asked Harry.

Ron shrugged. "Why? So I can socialize?" He scoffed. "Plus this way I can keep an eye on them...I don't want a pack of raging drunk Slytherins plowing through my living room."

Harry laughed. "You asked for whatever you get; you married one after all."

Ron scowled, then quirked a smile that meant he was off in dreamland. "Yeah...but I love her."

Harry smiled back at him. "Okay then, bartender, how about you fix me a Bloody Mary."

"At your service, Mr. Potter."

Harry and Ron talked and laughed at the bar until Pansy called everyone's attention to herself and announced dinner. Next to Harry, Blaise Zambini grunted. "About time."

Well, these certainly are a friendly bunch aren't they? Haven't changed much.

Dinner was uneventful; a steam of maids flowed continually from the kitchens and served the many guests seated around the enormously long table. Harry was caught up in a discussion on the new broomstick regulations with (to his utter astonishment) Marcus Flint; he really didn't pay attention to much of what was going on at the dinner table. He recognized very few faces, but perhaps that was because he was attempting to avoid recognition himself and kept his head down unless he was talking to Marcus. Some horrid rendition of what hoped to pass a classical music was playing in the background, making it hard for Harry to digest his food. He glanced often at the door that separated the dining room from the kitchen, knowing his daughters, along with Marigold and Violet, were eating their dinner just through them.

After dinner and dessert had been long disposed of and everyone had been talking idly for a few minutes, they were interrupted by the tapping of Pansy's spoon on her glass.

"Fellow Slytherins...and Ron and Harry," she said, laughing slightly; the rest of the table, save of course Harry and Ron, laughed as well. "It was wonderful seeing you all again after such a very long time. Please stick around after dinner to catch up some more and enjoy yourselves. With luck, we can keep it up till the early hours of the morning, as we have done so many times before in our dear common room. Again, it was wonderful to see you all again. You're excused."

As people began to stand again, making more chatter, Harry groaned. The early hours of the morning? Fantastic. He stood and made his way into the den. The hallway, stairs, entryway, and the den were all full of people chatting and laughing, telling tales and there was even someone in the entryway singing. Harry eventually met back up with Ron and they talked until Pansy dragged him away to help her with clearing people out of the upstairs bedrooms.

Well, the Slytherins really haven't changed, thought Harry, laughing.

He stood by the bar most of the time Ron was gone. A few people came up with the usual Oh-my-God-Harry-Potter?-Long-time-since-I've-seen-you banter. He smiled and played along. A couple times he saw the girls jet through the hallway and smiled when not a few seconds later Pansy's high-pitched shout could be heard, scolding them for their recklessness.

He was standing in that manner, leaning his back against the edge of the bar counter, drink in hand when he saw Brittany, and his heart melted. Harry saw her, dancing through the feet of the other people in the den. Her skirt spun around her as she did little hops and jumps like a fairy in a hidden corner of some magic forest. Harry, grinning, drew his wand and pointed at his daughter as she twirled. Instantly a cluster of little silver stars gathered around her and danced around her head and robes as she played. Harry would do anything to indulge the girl's fantasy, after all...you were only young once.

He continued watching her, a smile in permanent residence on his face. That was until, not watching her steps, as almost all children do, she toppled full force into a pair of legs. Harry frowned, and moved to help her...but something stopped him.

Brittany fell backwards onto her behind and quickly looked up to see who or what she had collided with. The person, who couldn't miss being run into by a dancing six year old, spun around, looking first straight ahead of him and then down at the lump of black-haired girl that was at his feet.

Harry recognized the person, how could he possibly not, and he would have bet his gasp could be heard clear across the country. He continued leaning on the bar, frozen, watching as that which was once his worst enemy, address his youngest daughter.

Draco Malfoy crouched down next to Brittany Potter, resting his forearms on his knees. He sent an amused smile at the little cluster of stars that were hovering above her head before speaking.

"Well, hello there. Do you happen to be the something that has just run itself so recklessly into the back of my legs?"

Brittany looked up at him with half-scared, half-curious eyes and nodded, just once. A smile spread across his lips; it gave Harry a chill.

"Well then, perhaps," he said and as he did he reached down, sliding his hands under her arms and standing her back on her feet with a gentleness Harry doubted he'd ever seen coming from Draco Malfoy. "You should watch where it is you're going.

Brittany nodded again and moved to walk away. Harry was just about to sigh in relief when Malfoy's hand came to rest on her shoulder and she spun around again.

"Where are you going so quickly? I want to talk to you," he spoke with a smooth voice, the clarity of tone was simply remarkable.

Brittany seemed mesmerized by him. "Y-you do?"

Malfoy nodded. "Indeed. Firstly, what is it you were doing that caused you to run into me? And secondly, what are those ridiculous sparkling things fluttering about your head?"

Brittany gasped and looked up, seeing the stars for the first time. She looked from the stars, to Malfoy, back to the stars. "I don't know, but they're prettyful."

The saying caused Malfoy's smile to broaden and Brittany continued.

"I was playing ballerina!" she said and spun in a circle, letting her robes fan out around her. She looked up at him again, chancing that maybe, since he was speaking with her, he would become open to more adventurous actions. "Will you play with me?"

Malfoy's eyes widened and for a moment, Harry thought the other man was about to scream, but instead, he smirked. Finally something Harry was used to seeing.

"Well, I don't see why not." The tall blond man held out his hand and Brittany took it skeptically. Malfoy leaned down to her a minute. "I've never done this before; you'll have to instruct me."

Brittany grinned at him. "Well, first you spin around in a circle like this."

She spun, still grinning, and her robes twirled around her. Harry was shocked when Malfoy turned around once in an awkward circle.

"Like that, you say?"

"No, no," she commanded. "You have to do it on one foot, so you twirl, you can't just walk in a circle."

She repeated her action. With a reluctant look around the room, Malfoy copied her to the fullest, spinning around on one foot, and even twirling his arms about as she had. When he was done, Brittany nodded approval.

"That's it! Now, you have to jump forward on one foot, and spread your arms out on either side of you. It's called a pear-ree-yet, like this."

As she did it, Malfoy shut his eyes, and muttered something under his breath. Harry laughed; it really was a sight to watch. Malfoy was just readying himself for utter humiliation when three blurs flew into the room one after the other. When they'd zeroed in on who they had been looking for, all three of them came to a halt next to her. Kimberley stopped, running into the back of Brittany, and her halt caused Asia to run into her, thus making Cordelia run into Asia. Harry groaned; here came the cavalry.

Malfoy stopped, shocked, and looked at the group of black haired girls before him.

"Hello," said Cordelia, seeing the man her sister had been conversing with. "Who are you?"

"Draco Malfoy," he said, giving her a penetrating look. "And you are?"

Uh-oh, Harry though.

Cordelia brought herself up to her full height, 4'7, and looked at him proudly. "I'm Cordelia Potter, and that is my sister."

Malfoy stopped, and stared, completely and totally still. Finally he spoke. "Potter, you say?"

"Yeah!" said Kimberley proudly. "Our daddy's Harry Potter. He's famous!"

"I'm aware of the fact, yes." Another smirk graced his face. "Actually, I knew your father in school. Well, I'm sure you will all make a wonderful troop of Gryffindors."

Cordelia scowled at him. "I am not a Gryffindor."

Malfoy looked surprised, and then he smirked again. "Ravenclaw?"

Cordelia shook her head.

"Hufflepuff?" he asked again, somewhat desperately.

"Nope," said Cordelia, shaking her head again, a smirk on her own face. Harry was almost proud of her.

The blond man standing in front of his daughter stared and his mouth fell open. He soon collected himself. "Well, well, well. Potter has a kid in Slytherin...will the man never cease to amaze me?"

Harry decided now would be about the time to step in, and he did so, striding across the room and placing a hand on Cordelia's shoulder. "I suppose not. Even after all these years I can still manage to throw you for a loop, Malfoy."

Malfoy's smirk grew, only it was missing all of the cruelty and malice it had held so long ago when Harry had last seen it. "I believe I've sent you on a few loops yourself, or have you forgotten that prank in sixth year?"

Harry glared. "No, it hasn't managed to slip my mind as of yet. Kind of hard to forget when one levitates you above the Great Hall in your underwear."

Malfoy snickered, Cordelia's eyes went wide and Harry realized that Malfoy had just gained himself an everlasting hero-worshiper.

"You did that? To Dad?"

Malfoy nodded, still smirking.

"Wow! Can you teach m-?"

"Okay, that's enough chitter-chatter. You four get moving before your Aunt Pansy kicks you out," Harry ordered with a wink.

Asia, Kimberley, and Cordelia (somewhat reluctantly) nodded and moved toward the doorway. Harry was surprised when Brittany ran forth and attached herself to Malfoy's leg, hugging it tightly.

"Goodnight Mr. Malfoy. Thank you for playing with me!"

Malfoy smiled, a genuine smile, and crouched down again. He took her in his arms and gave her a small hug before pulling away and whispering, but loud enough for Harry to hear.

"It was a pleasure young lady. I would play ballerinas with you any day."

Brittany grinned and finally turned and ran after her three sisters.

Malfoy stood and faced Harry. "Nice family Potter."

"Erm, thanks. And thanks for playing with Brittany, she really appreciated it."

The blond man smiled and shrugged. "She's sweet, I didn't mind."

Harry smiled and nodded and for a few moments there was an uncomfortable silence. Malfoy finally broke it.

"Make me a drink, Potter. You can tell me about yourself," he said. He looked sincere, yet still with the demanding air that was Draco Malfoy.

Harry really couldn't find a reason not to, so he shrugged and began walking towards the bar, Malfoy not far behind him.

***

By the time they were on their second drink they had exhausted all possible small talk. Conversations about political affairs and weather (both of which they managed to argue about, though how one can argue over weather Harry could never figure) were run out and there was no other option but to turn the conversation to more personal matters.

"So, Potter, are you still working for the Ministry? Unspeakables?"

"I'm still at the Ministry, but I left the Unspeakables a couple of years ago," said Harry, brushing at a piece of invisible fuzz on his suit.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Can you speak yet?"

Harry couldn't help but chuckle. "I'm afraid not. Everything in that department is confidential. That doesn't change when you leave the branch."

"Well then, where are you at now?" asked Malfoy.

"Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports," said Harry offhandedly.

"I should have guessed. How're you dealing with that Quidditch pitch fiasco?"

Harry had to fight not to choke on his drink. "How did you-? I swear if someone in my department's been leaking information-"

He broke off when Malfoy began laughing. "Relax, Potter. Nobody's been leaking information. Anybody with the intelligence of a Puffskein could see that there were less than sixteen kilometers between the stadium and that little Muggle town."

Harry snorted. "So I'm not the only one that thinks the Department of Planning and Development of Magical Establishments only has about two brain cells combined?"

"No...it's unanimous."

There was a silence as the two digested the fact that for once in the entirety of their acquaintance; they were in agreement on something.

"So what are you going to do?"

Harry sighed and took a swallow of his drink. "We're moving the pitch."

Malfoy hissed through his teeth. "Risky decision, Potter. The World Cup-"

"Yeah, yeah, I know the cup is in three weeks and if we move the stadium we'll have to delay. It's just something we have to do; I'm not going to break the law."

It was Malfoy's turn to snort. "That's odd...rules never seemed to bother you before."

Harry looked up, meeting the other man's gaze and shrugging. "I grew up."

They continued in silence for quite some time, until finally Harry took over the conversation.

"And what are you doing with yourself?" It was lame he knew, but he could think of no other line of discussion.

"I have a little coffee-book shop. In the lane between Knockturn and Diagon Alley's. We sell fiction, Magical and Muggle."

Harry just stared.

"What?" asked Malfoy, looking defensive.

"I just-I've been in there before, a few times. You have a nice selection; I just didn't know you ran the place."

Malfoy's defensive look was replaced with a smile. "Well thank you, Potter. Actually, before I opened the shop...I'd been going through Auror training. About four months into it I realized it wasn't for me."

"Yeah, no kidding," said Harry, trying to picture Malfoy as an Auror.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Malfoy was getting defensive again.

"I-well I don't know. With your father being who he was, I always assumed you would take a different...road, in life."

Malfoy rolled his eyes and gave Harry a harsh look. "Yeah, well. I learned pretty early in life that I am not, and never could be, my father. Consequently I was a lot happier when I'd reached that realization."

Nodding, Harry apologized, looking down at his feet. "Sorry. I guess I just never really saw you as anything else but the son of Lucius Malfoy."

When he looked up again, Malfoy was gazing at him with, if he wasn't mistaken, a sad kind of look. "Of course you didn't. I was a Slytherin, which to you meant I didn't have a conscience, a soul, or a heart. I don't blame you. After all, I pigeon-holed you the same way."

Harry sighed. "Yeah, well. Out of Hogwarts...you start to realize that maybe you don't have as much in common with your house mates as you thought you did."

He felt the penetrating look Malfoy was sending him without even looking up. "Granger?"

His whole body stiffened.

You don't want to talk about this, why are you-

"You could say that, I guess. I don't know what it was that made us think it could work...hell, I don't even know why I'm talking about this to you."

"It must have worked to an extent," said Malfoy with a slight hint of humor to his voice. "You have four kids to show for it, and you're talking to me about this because I'm here, and I'm listening."

Harry looked up from where he'd been studying the carpet of the den. "But are you?"

Malfoy smirked. "Would I be here if I wasn't?"

A shrug. "I suppose not."

"Then talk."

Simple, such a simple deduction. Harry nodded. "Alright then."

He stood from his bar stool and walked a few steps away, to an armchair that sat by the room's fireplace. Malfoy took the adjacent one, and Harry, for some reason he had yet to fathom, began to speak.

He told him everything. The silence, the arguing, the butting heads, right down to the monotony of their sex life. If his own actions weren't enough to shock him completely, there was the fact that Malfoy's reactions were of an understanding nature, almost sympathetic. When Harry finished he sat staring into the empty fireplace, feeling nearly...relieved.

"Well, have you seen anybody since?" Malfoy finally asked.

Harry frowned. "No, haven't really been interested in anybody yet. I'm sure, if I give it a little more time...I'll come around."

"Don't be so sure, wasn't it Dumbledore who always said 'Live your life, while you have the chance'."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "You're quoting Dumbledore?"

Malfoy shrugged. "Greater miracles have happened."

"What about you?"

"What's that?"

"Have you seen anybody since Pansy dumped you in sixth year?"

"I'll have you know that that was a mutual separation." He said it with a straight face but there was a ghost of a smile on his lips.

"Well?"

Malfoy began to laugh. "Yes, Potter. I've dated a number of people since Hogwarts."

"Really? Anything long term?"

"Well..." Malfoy trailed off and a smile quirked at the corner of his lips, as if he knew a great secret that he was about to divulge to Harry. "As a matter of fact, one lasted about a year and half...just recently broke it off actually. He was an ass, one of us had to do it and he wasn't in any hurry."

It was a usual thing for Harry to be at a loss for words, on occasion he had even been known to stutter. However never had he been so at a loss for words that he was reduced to a sputtering, mumbling, squeaky voiced pile of confusion.

"I-y-you...did you just-huh?"

This elicited a chuckle from Malfoy. "You heard me right, Potter. I said 'he'. As in a male. As in I'm gay, and he was gay, and we had a gay relationship. Clear enough for you?"

Harry stared a minute, he nodded and tried to say yes, but all that came out was a lost sounding squeak. It was enough to send Malfoy into gales of laughter. Apparently, he found Harry's shock somewhat amusing.

Harry quickly realized how discourteous his response had been. "Oh Merlin, I'm sorry. That was...rude."

Malfoy's laughter continued. "No! Its fine-I haven't laughed like that in a long time."

Harry looked at him curiously. "Are you sure you're not...offended or anything?"

The other man nodded, his laughter dying down to a smile. "Not at all. Relax, Potter. I was just winding you up."

A confused looked graced Harry's face. "So you're not...homosexual?"

A soft chuckle. "No, I am gay. It's just great to see people's reactions. Amazes me every time. I always thought it was pretty obvious."

"Obvious? How long have you...known?"

"Since about sixth year," said Malfoy bluntly.

"Really?"

Malfoy nodded and Harry began speaking again. "Well, I had no idea. I would have never guessed." Harry thought a moment. "Did your father approve?"

"Approve? Are you joking? It's probably one of the reasons I didn't end up following in his footsteps. Good thing too, his side lost, and I wouldn't be here talking to you. Imagine that...my sexuality saved my life."

Harry took all this in, realizing that until now, he'd never really considered the fact that Malfoy had depth. Never thought about the idea that maybe he wasn't just another little Slytherin Death Eater, just like his father. Harry realized he had been shallow.

"Yeah...imagine that."

They lapsed into silence for quite awhile, and then Malfoy began chuckling again. Harry raised his eyebrows, asking what exactly he found so funny, at which point Malfoy blushed and ceased laughing.

"It's...it's nothing."

"No, you're going to tell me what you're laughing about. Or I'll take that daiquiri away from you and you won't get another drink the rest of the night."

"You sure you want to know?" asked Malfoy, raising a pale eyebrow and giving him a skeptical look.

Harry nodded firmly.

"Alright then. I was thinking about the time when I levitated you over the Great Hall in your underwear."

Once again, Harry was confused. "Why would I not want to know about that?"

"Because, what I didn't mention previous to this was that at the time, I found it rather...endearing. You hovering there, blushing like mad in your little snitch boxers. It was cute."

There was a silence as Harry digested this. Malfoy thought he was cute, or had at one point.

"You thought I was...cute?"

"Contrary to popular belief, you are rather attractive you know," said Malfoy, smirking.

"I-well...thanks, I guess."

"You're not...put off are you?"

"Not really, no. Just surprised...I never really thought that my former rival might have considered me attractive."

Malfoy raised his eyebrows. "Why the past tense?"

Harry sputtered and Malfoy cursed.

"Bullocks, I've had too much to drink. You can disregard that."

Harry chuckled uneasily. "I think we've all had a little too much," he said, nodding his head toward the other side of the room. Malcolm Baddock was currently on the table with a lampshade on his head whilst Millicent Bulstrode attempted to shove a five-dollar bill into the hem of his pants.

Malfoy snorted. "Right you are. Really though, why the 'former'? I didn't realize we'd dropped those positions."

Harry shrugged. "Well, I decided that as we're standing here actually carrying on a civilized conversation...maybe it's possible we've lost rival status. Wouldn't you say so, Malfoy?"

The blond seemed to mull it over, before slowly nodding his head. "Alright, fair enough. Only...if we're going to be proper acquaintances, isn't it traditional that we address each other on a first name basis?"

"Erm...right. Well then," Harry said, sticking out his hand to Malfoy. "Let's do this the right way. I'm Harry."

Malfoy smirked, trying to control a chuckle and extended his own pale, refined hand and grasping Harry's with it. "Draco."

They were flying backwards, to a time when two small wisps of boys, one dark, one light, stood facing each other. Only now, the dark boy was not the wizarding world's golden child, and the light boy was no longer bound by his ancestry. It went by in a flash, the irony of it sweeping through both their minds at almost the exact same instant.

Their friendship was formed...and perhaps...it would take them both further than they had ever thought possible.