I Knew Nothing About You

I Knew Nothing About You.

What he wants.

Draco Malfoy was a loving father.

At first, Harry had not known what to do with that knowledge.

Malfoy was his opposite; the one he had always despised. But the Malfoy - who was in truth not Malfoy but Draco - he had seen today...

It made Harry wonder exactly who the man by the name of Draco Malfoy was.

Who was the blond young man walking ahead of him, alone and lonely, but with a rare twist of lips which someone might call a smile that Harry had seen just that day, in another one's face?

A face so similar to this one but that had a childish and more feminine quality to it. A face as pointy, as pale and as smooth as the one owned by this man. A face that belonged to this man's daughter. This horrible, horrible man... who was tender and affectionate with his young child.

It was difficult and confusing for Harry to relate the two facets he had discovered in this person.

One did not correspond with the other.

It made him want to pull his hair out.

The trio had lunched at the deserted park. There were some broken swings, a small sandy field and a rusted slide. It was obvious that everything was old and in bad condition. The old park was surrounded by a new fence; it must have been put there so that small children wouldn't hurt themselves on the broken playground.

There hadn't been snow, but it was a cold day and the blond and the two females had snuggled together and talked about small things.

At first, Harry had not believed Malfoy's genuine interest in the small girl's school life nor in her life in general. However, as the day passed, he saw how the blond's eyes would flash a lighter grey now and then, how his smirks were less smirks and more smiles and how, whenever Ivi snapped or made a witty coment at Pansy - and, really, girls that age should not know how to out-smart older people - a strange emotion flickered past his face and his eyes would darken just a little bit.

Malfoy had changed and Harry hadn't seen it coming.

He had become a father. He now had responsabilities and duties Harry had never known and, from what he could see, the blond handled them more than well. He had stopped being his father's son and was now Draco. Not a name, not a family's heir; a person, a father, a man.

Malfoy was changed and there was nothing Harry could do to stop his traitorous conscience from suggesting, you should mend things.

Yet, the problem that was twirling through his brain was not that. The real question in this situation was only one, and quite simple at that. Though the answer looked much more complicated and complex.

How?

*

"Potter," Malfoy called, "you can come out now."

Now, if I just don't make any kind of noise he may think he is hallucinating.

They had arrived home shortly after the trio's departure and Harry had been questioning himself why Malfoy, the okay Auror that he was, would leave the door ajar.

Now he knew.

"Don't make me search for you." The blond was obviously annoyed. "I'm tired and I'm certain that you know exactly why, so don't start something you'll regret later."

They happened to be in the living room, having already passed through the entryway. Everything was darker than when they had left; the curtains behind the sofa were drawn and looked very opressive in Harry's opinion. The two dark red armchairs sitting besides the crimson sofa were inviting him to sit and cosy up. The cherrywood coffee table had an arrangement of white carnations that hadn't been there the night before. The two paintings in the room, one of an old ship, almost dragged down into the ocean by the effects of a storm and another one of a girl walking through a wheat plantation, both of which obscured from the weak light coming from the two lamps located on either side of the hearth.

The living room had two exits but to different destinations; either you left the house or you went to the other rooms. There were no doors separating the living room from the tv room and the archway was carved with rustic wood and it gave a quality to the ambient Harry was still flabbergasted with.

Everything was gorgeous and very expensive.

All of it had arrived with Malfoy when they moved in.

If I could just make my way to my room through here -

The other man stepped aside, blocking his passage. Stupid Malfoy was blocking the only way out.

Typical.

"And yes, Potter, I know it's you and that you are still somewhere over here." He glanced around the living room. "It's getting quite irritating standing here talking with the air, you know? So, take off the damned cloak and let's get this over with."

There was a faint pink flush on his cheeks.

Not a good sign.

"I wasn't following you," Harry granted reluctantly, taking off the 'damned cloak'.

Malfoy looked over at him, raising an eyebrow in the process.

Harry really hated that expression.

"Is that so? Then if you were not following me, what were you doing?" The sudden batting of lashes unnerved Harry and he just prepared himself for the attack. "Potter," Malfoy exclaimed in shock, "Isn't there something you should be telling me?"

What is he going on about?

The blond continued with the same air. "Certainly you weren't having naughty thoughts about my humble person... Were you?"

Intent eyes stared back at him.

Malfoy should have opted for dramatics.

Harry scowled. "Malfoy. Don't flatter yourself. The day I started feeling attracted to you is the day I've gone crazy."

Mocking eyes searched his face suspiciously. "You sure you aren't feeling a little out of balance?"

"Keep this up," Harry glared, "and I may well truly go mad."

He didn't know where his brain had gone when he considered a truce with this man in front of him.

"Very well," Malfoy conceded. "I demand to know what were your real reasons to, how should I put it? Stalk me? Follow my every step?"

Harry huffed. There was no way he was getting out of this conversation any time soon.

"Okay, then. I admit it. I was following you."

Malfoy beamed at him. The blond had never done that before. Harry felt a strange warmth in the pit of his stomach. He squashed it.

"There you go," Malfoy praised him. "That wasn't so that difficult, was it?"

It wasn't a smirk but neither was it a smile.

Malfoy was grinning at him.

Maybe he was in a good mood, after all.

"Now," the blond started bossily, "you aren't going to go all shy on me again, right? You are going to tell me why you were behind my back all day."

Harry sighed. Malfoy's infamous grey eyes were serious and just a little demanding, boring into his brain, shifting through all his thoughts.

If Harry knew the reason himself, this talk wouldn't be happening.

"I really don't know why," he blurted. The expression the blond was wearing did not leave space for only that blunt confession. "I just felt I should follow you two." Now that he had started, Harry found himself telling the other man everything. "I have noticed for some time that Pansy always visits you every Saturday morning and you go out after you have breakfast together." I'm not admitting I enjoy the smell of his specialties. Ever. "As you have said a hundred times before, my curiosity got the better of me as it always does and I found myself following you." Harry shrugged. It hadn't happened that way but he wasn't in for another reprimand.

Malfoy frowned.

"So now you know my dirty little secret," he drawled. "I suppose you want something in exchange for your silence."

Incredulous, Harry stared at him.

"What are you talking about, Malfoy?"

The blond frowned further. "You know that Ivi is my daughter. No one else can know. I'm offering you the chance of asking me anything so that you won't tell any of your little ex-Gryffindor friends this beautiful fact."

It was Harry's turn to frown. In irritation. "You think I'm blackmailing you?"

Malfoy's tongue wet his lips. "If you aren't, then why..."

He didn't finish.

"I won't blackmail you," Harry announced firmly.

"Because that's beneath you, right?" the other man snapped.

"Exactly," Harry shot back, all of a sudden feeling affronted.

"Then what -"

It was so digusting how Malfoy could think he would do such a thing. Harry stepped on the living room's rug. "The only thing I want from you, Malfoy, is to know why you have kept Ivi unknown to everyone."

The blond sneered. "Typical. The brave and noble Boy Who Lived once again ready for a fight."

Harry didn't back down, even though he was internally cursing and hexing Malfoy.

The blond sighed, rolling his eyes, his face suddenly blank. "If this information gets out, Ivi will be in great danger. Life-threatening danger."

That got Harry's attention. Malfoy sat down on the sofa.

"You remember Moira." Harry nodded. Dark hair, dark eyes, light-colored skin. Sweet smile, sharp inteligence, beautiful personality. The blond sighed once more. "She's Ivi's mother."

"So you found her," Harry stated, perplexed, sitting in the armchair in front of the sofa.

"Yeah," Draco smiled bitterly. He suddenly focused his eyes on Harry's face, making him uncomfortable. "This isn't easy for me to talk about. I know you liked her and - well, you understand."

Draco's eyes were heated and didn't allow lies.

Harry nodded, unable to utter a proper answer.

He re-started his tale. "After almost a year and a half of search, I found her in Brazil." He was relaxed, obviously remembering their good moments. "There was a little bit of missunderstanding but in the end we figured everything out and realized we still liked each other a lot. We got married. She became pregnant." Draco took a deep breath and leaned back, closing his eyes. "We were attacked in our house, one day. I don't know how they found us there but they did. We were by ourselves and Moira was pregnant. I told her to run away but she refused and said she would only leave with me. I knew it was dangerous in her condition, but I apparated us out of there."

Afraid of shattering Draco's story, Harry breathed, "What happened next?"

The blond opened his eyes and Harry saw them hardening.

"She didn't resist. Muggle pregnant women are very sensitive to magic, you know? Most of the times they end up harmed by the presence of magic around their babies." His voice was light and untouched by feeling. "The baby was saved but -" He swallowed and looked away. "My wife died."

Harry could feel the hurt and sadness flowing steadily out of Draco.

The blond clearly blamed himself for Moira's death.

Bloody Death Eaters.

"I still don't -"

Draco interrupted. "Neither do I. The only thing I know is that I have to protect Ivi no matter the cost."

His unusual eyes were haunted and there were light purple shadows under them.

"I think you should rest, Malfoy," Harry advised. "You look beat."

Draco's lips twisted in the way Harry was starting to find adorable and rolled his eyes.

How could a father and his child be so alike?

The blond got up and went to his bedroom. "Potter," he called without turning, in a soft voice Harry had never heard, "promise me you are not going to tell anything I've just told you now."

He was ordering him but nevertheless Harry smiled.

"I promise."

Draco glanced back at him and nodded once. Firmly.

"Goodnight, then," he yawned carefreely.

Only when Harry was sure he wouldn't hear did he wish, "Goodnight, Draco. Sleep well."

*

Harry had discovered a bunch of things about the furtive character that was Draco during the talk they had had the night before.

And it hadn't been just about Draco.

The blond had also told him some small facts about Ivi.

It was actually curious how Harry would have never suspect any kind of fatherly feelings Draco might have.

The blond certainly knew how to dissemble well. Harry was mystified by that.

What kind of person is able to keep that away from everyone?

"What do you think you are doing?"

Harry twisted around so fast he let the two unbroken eggs that happened to be on his hands drop on the floor.

He was in the kitchen. The walls were painted lime green. The oven was white just like everything else in the kitchen but the table, situated opposite the small rectangular window.

"I... Er... Mmm... Well... I..."

He had been so caught up in making some scrambled eggs to eat he hadn't seen Draco coming.

Now the white floor was dirty and he had to clean it.

Harry groaned.

"What did you think you were doing?" the blond repeated.

Harry pinched his nose. "I'll clean it up. Don't worry."

Draco smirked. "I'm sure you will." His smirk dissolved into a light curious expression. "That wasn't what I asked, anyway." His tone was calm and there was that slightly raised eyebrow expression on his face again.

"I was trying to cook myself breakfast," Harry answered pitifully.

The blond looked over at the mess on the floor and all around the kitchen.

"It looks like the food didn't like your face much."

There it was. The right side of his mouth was lifted just enough to show white teeth and his eyes were shining silver.

He was teasing Harry just like he did with Ivi.

It gave Harry a burst of something inside his chest.

He ignored it.

"I'm fine. The kitchen suffered the most, anyway."

The blond stared at him for a moment and suddenly looking decided, he ordered, "Let's do this: you clean the mess you made and I cook us breakfast. Agreed?"

Harry didn't think twice about this proposition.

I'll finally see what all the fuss is about his food, he grinned.

"I'll get my wand," he said starting towards the door.

"About last night," Draco called unsurely and looking unconfortable.

"I won't tell anyone. I promised."

"I know," the blond sighed. "I just feel like -"

"Something changed?" Harry offered off-handedly.

Draco narrowed his eyes like he always did whenever someone interrupted him. The blond gave him a tight nod.

"You know things very few people know about me. About Ivi," he added forcefully. "She's the most precious thing in my life and I am willing to kill or die for her."

"Listen, Malfoy," Harry called, "I don't know what is to be a father but I can tell how important a child can be to her parents. I won't ever hold that against you."

"I'm not talking about that."

The mood had changed but it wasn't precisely tense.

Yet.

"Then, what?"

"You and I," the blond drawled softly not averting his eyes.

That didn't explain anything to Harry.

"What about us?"

Draco's face was like untouched parchment: white, blank and unnerving.

"I know I can't say we have been enemies all this time, for we fight the same battle here." His eyes were flat and grey and revealed nothing to Harry. "But we weren't ever friends. In our last conversation, I shared some facts most dear to me with you. That makes us something. I want to know what."

Harry looked away from Draco's demanding eyes. He knew he was searching for answers and also that he wouldn't find them anywhere here in the kitchen but he didn't know what else to do.

He tried anyway.

"This is a truce."

The blond nodded.

"Then -" Harry stopped, not really sure of his next words.

The other man just kept staring at him, forcing the phrase out of his mouth.

"We can try to be friends," he suggested weakly, in an unsteady voice.

The blond touched his finger to his bottom lip and Harry felt warm.

Ivi had the same habit.

"Alright," Draco agreed, extending his right hand, "experimentally friends?"

The arched eyebrow and challenging eyes did not leave space for faltering.

In the end, Harry was nothing but a Gryffindor.

"Friends." Harry smiled at him, letting his thin, delicate hand go.

*

Casey was not this person's real name. She - he? - had been given a horrible name and Casey hated when people used it. And so he - or was it 'she'? - created this pseudo name.

People did not know who he - it certainly could be a 'she'... - really was. Casey made sure of that.

The disappearing act had been perfect and he - maybe it was a 'she'... - finally was able to put her - 'his'? - plan into action.

Draco Malfoy had been pretty much the only thing Casey thought about all throughout her - 'his'? - adolescence.

She - probably a 'he' - knew it was obsession but nothing could put a stop in all the dreams, daydreams and fantasizing. It was incurable and the only thing that could change his - possibly a 'her' - hell - for life without Draco was not real life but a mockery of feelings and sensations - was having Draco by his - 'her'? - side.

This game of cat-and-mouse was getting on her - wasn't it 'his'? - nerves, so from now on this person was going to be treated as a 'he'.

But it sure could turn out to be a 'she'.

Who knew?

He had kept track of everything about Draco's life. It was a hard job but for the blond, there was nothing he wouldn't do.

Casey had mourned when the young man had gotten married and so, he had put his hand - more like his whole body and mind - into a plan to destroy the couple.

He succeeded when the Death Eaters finally decided his information was at least worth the bother of looking.

They looked and attacked. Casey had been worried Draco would be caught in the "battle" - which wasn't really a battle... It was more like a massacre. The worst hadn't happened because he had gone and secretly helped the couple.

Fortunately for him, the woman hadn't resisted all the magic around her and died hours, days later. It was hard to be sure; they had gone beyond his knowledge and only when it was the woman's funeral did he found out their destiny.

There had obviously been the brunette's family and Draco had been there as well.

He vowed that that expression would never cross the blond's face again.

He wouldn't die soon and the day they got together, he would protect that beautiful, amazing man forever.

However, things weren't always helpful or pleasant.

No, no.

There had been that time when that read-head slut had flirted with Draco and things just had to go back into the right place. There had also been the dates that Draco and that stupid clear-eyed, brown-haired tramp had had. That had been fixed as well.

Draco could not be with anyone else but him. He was Casey's Draco and no one would come between them.

Only, now, that Potter bloke seemed to have taken a sudden and suspicious interest in Draco's character.

For over two weeks, there had been too many silent shared moments and Casey did not like that.

Potter was curious and his famous nosing around was really concerning.

They could get too close and Casey knew the blond could be irresistable, even when it was unintentional.

The glances and glimpses Potter stole at Draco may have passed unnoticed by the blond but Casey had seen them and made notes.

It seemed Potter's opinion about his Auror partner was changing and it was possible that Casey would have to take matters - Finally. - into his own hands.

It was time for a more offensive approach.

*

The leader of their squad - who was amazingly Blaise Zabini - had ordered Harry and sweetly asked Malfoy to help in one of the Auror's many missions.

And on a Monday morning, nonetheless, Harry groaned.

Nowadays, things were a little lighter than when they had been at war. There were very few attacks and nothing like before. Their assignments were easy and mostly consisted of throwing some hexes at the kids who liked to bother them with false alarms.

And so they found themselves in an abandoned cottage, in obvious need of repairs, in the middle of nowhere.

"This is disgusting," Malfoy complained for the thousandth time. "I can't believe I'm breathing this filthy air, dirtying my favorite boots and my perfect, beloved new robe in this infested habitation. Urgh, when was the last time they cleaned around here? The Middle Ages?"

Harry sighed in annoyance. "Malfoy, please, don't make this worse on us. It's bad enough that we have to wander around in all this dirt. I know that already. You don't need to tell me so a hundred times."

The blond looked at him. "Fourteen."

"What?" What is he talking about now?

"That's the number of times I've told you this was the worst assignment Blaise could send us to take a look at." He added sweetly, "Fourteen."

Harry rolled his eyes and went back to their work of 'looking for whatever was wrong in this scene'. "You can be very strange sometimes, Malfoy."

"Oh," Malfoy's lips twisted, " but if I didn't act strange sometimes I wouldn't be an interesting person."

Harry's eyes turned to the ceiling. "You are an interesting person already being the brat, annoying and frustating character you are. I'm sure there is no need to add strange to your many characteristics."

"I'm glad you find me interesting," the blond conceded, "however, your taste in company isn't one of the highest. Me being the only one worthy of any note on your small and precarious list."

"Hermione and Ron are far better company than you right now." Harry thought some more. "Actually, I even think my Muggle cousin Dudley would be better than you."

Draco scoffed. It was amazing how much it resembled Ivi. "You only say that because I refused to let you eat the cake I was baking." He added complacently afterward, "Besides, nobody here said Granger was bad company."

Harry choked. "Did you just say Hermione is okay?"

"And that I happen to be lovely company," the blond replied evasively, dodging the question.

Harry stared at him. "Go back to work, Malfoy. Your intention of making me do all the hard work here went down the toilet."

"Ugh, Potter," Draco made a face, "do you have to talk about these things when I'm doing my work?"

"Your work does not involve you ordering me around."

The blond narrowed his eyes. "Who said so?"

"Your adorable friend Zabini, remember? That time you tried to convince him it was my fault that Mrs. Vaughn's house fell down? Because I was not suppose to 'leave all the work with the helpless and unresourceful soul you are'?"

"It was your fault!" the blond exclaimed in outrage, glaring furiously. "I told you to help me knock that horrible, yellow wall down, but would you? No! I had to take matters into my own hands and do everything on my own."

"If you hadn't destroyed the wall, the house wouldn't have fallen down."

"True," he granted grudgingly. "However, if you had just done as I asked -"

"Malfoy," Harry snapped, "you ordered me."

"Very well," he continued unmoved, "as I ordered you, the house would be intact till this present day."

"Malfoy," Harry sighed, "the wall did not have to be taken down just because you didn't like its paint."

Malfoy narrowed his eyes. "I only wanted to make sure Mrs. Vaughn looked at least a little bit stylish. You were just jealous of my good taste."

"Oh, for Christ's sake," Harry breathed deeply. "I'll go look in the kitchen."

Malfoy yelled back, "Fine. I'll go into the bedrooms."

He muttered quietly on the way to the kitchen, "I really don't know how Pansy and Zabini have put up with him for so long."

After a few minutes, the blond called Harry. The other man was in the master bedroom.

There on the white wall above the unmade and messy bed, in big, bloody letters, was the phrase:

I'M BACK.

Harry looked at Draco and found his grey eyes focused on his own. "I don't think this is a child's doing."

Draco nodded. "Let's head back. We've got to inform Blaise."

*

Two weeks had passed since their truce and Harry felt they were getting nearer to one another. It was progress. Small, but progress, nonetheless.

Zabini had said they were not to worry and there were already people taking care of the message they had found. How he had known before their arrival was still a mystery to Harry.

But now is not the time for those thoughts, Harry patted his stomach.

Since the day they had declared a tentative friendship the blond had been cooking breakfast for the two of them. He seemed to enjoy himself while doing it so Harry never asked if Draco wanted him to cook as well even though he knew how to.

The blond man sure had a gifted hand for cooking. If Harry didn't stop eating so much he would soon add some pounds to his weight.

"If you keep grinning like that, Potter, you are going to strain a muscle, you know?" Draco smirked at him.

His grin widened. "I don't care. It's Sunday, I've had a wonderful lunch and I won't have to clean all these dishes."

Draco lifted his eyebrow and got up from his seat.

"Is that so?"

"Oh yes, I just have to do this," Harry brandished his wand, cleaning and organizing everything in its original place, "and everything is as it was before."

"Amazing," Draco mocked him, "I didn't know you were allowed to play with your wand already."

"I know," Harry played along in an awed tone of voice, "unbelievable, isn't it?"

Draco shook his head.

"Since you've cleaned everything, I think I can leave the kitchen for the time being."

Harry grinned. "No need to say it twice."

When they were out of kitchen he asked, "By the way, Malfoy, what are you doing today?"

*

Harry had always been curious, even though he hadn't realized it before, about how the blond spent the days they were left by themselves.

On Saturdays, he went out either for a walk or just to not cross paths with Draco. On most Sundays, Harry visited his friends and came back only after dusk.

Today, he had decided to stay and spend the day with his partner. It was, after all, Sunday and Draco hadn't gone to see Ivi the day before. What he did not know was that he was missing the show the blond always made watching television while he spent his weekends away.

As Harry stepped into the living room, he discovered Draco sprawled out on the carpeted floor, glaring balefully at a big screen tv across the room. The light coming in from the window beside the entryway made the room bright and inviting; altogether, it didn't seem like such a bad place to spend his Sunday.

Harry lied back on a velvet dark-blue armchair to see what affronted Draco so much.

"What kind of stupid bastard believes such an obvious lying woman like this one?" Draco frowned disgusted and in frustration, criticizing for God-knows-how-many-times the actors, the script and the scenery of the movie they were watching. Well, he was, actually, criticizing the movie in itself but Harry wasn't going to complain.

After all, the movie was a really, really bad one.

"You know," Harry admonished, "Muggles created the remote control because of that. When you don't want to watch some - stupid? Is that what you called it? - movie, they can change channels without the bother of getting up."

Draco glared up at him.

His neck was milky white and looked too fragile.

"Potter, if I wanted to not watch this movie, I would have destroyed this horrible TV," he retorted sweetly.

Spoiled brat.

"Then why is the TV still unharmed?"

"I find it amusing how people can act foolishly when they think they are in love. It's nice to watch it," the blond told Harry in a voice usually used for small children.

"That's not nice," Harry frowned disapprovingly, "that's horrible. Some might even call it evil."

"People don't know what evil is," Draco said haughtily.

There wasn't anything Harry could say to that so he just muttered, "I still think it's not nice."

The blond glanced at him from the corner of his left eye and pursed his lips, "What would you know, you saint Potter?" He turned to the TV. "Besides, stop babbling about all this nonsense. You're making me miss the movie."

Harry sighed.

There was no salvation for Draco.

He should stop thinking that there might be one.

The blond was a lost cause in the end.

"Want some popcorn?" He offered while getting up, resigned to not give up so easily.

Draco stared at him with a horrified expression.

"Go near my kitchen and I'll spoon your brains out and give it to the first stray dog I find." There had been a minor accident in the kitchen involving Harry, flour, milk, eggs and chocolate. Really, it wasn't his fault if the bloody thing just blew up. "Although the dog may not want it, but I'm sure rats eat pretty much every kind of garbage."

That made Harry narrow his eyes. "Do you think people are able to eat ferrets' meat?" He inquired sweetly moving closer to the blond and making the other man get up. "Because, suddenly I feel like having a healthy, different and unusual meal. It certainly would do me good. Don't you agree?"

Draco looked him over suspiciously. "I think I may have to agree with you on that matter. You do look a little too chubby."

"Really?"

"Really."

In less than two seconds, Harry had Draco under him and was hitting him with one of the cushions thrown around the room haphazardly.

"Potter... that's... unfair..." Draco whined breathlessly, "you didn't... give me... any... warning."

The blond twisted them around and now he was the one on top.

"Give me..." He pulled the pillow, stradling Harry. "this... bloody... cushion!"

"No... I will... not!"

They quarreled around for a while using the other five cushions of different colours that were at hand. Both, in the end, declared technical spare.

"The movie has reached the end, Malfoy," Harry informed him.

"What?" Draco was a little bewildered.

"The movie? Has ended," Harry explained patronizingly, making the other man scowl.

"Don't you use that condescending tone with me, young man," he scolded as if Harry was Ivi.

Harry retorted, "And don't you think you can order me around."

He stuck his tongue out just for the childish feeling of it.

He really needed to check over his brain.

Probably, it was just due to the present company.

"Potter," Draco growled in a movie-for-kids evil voice, "you better hide that tongue from me or I'm adding it into my next potion."

Harry looked at him, balancing the odds.

He stuck his tongue out one more time.

Draco threw a cushion at his face.

Harry just laughed.

Things are starting to look good.