Second Chances

Remus Lupin looked up calmly at the sound of his front door slamming. With a little sigh, he closed the book he was reading and set it aside, waiting for Harry to come and cry on his shoulder. It wouldn't be the first time, though Lupin hoped - as he always did - that this time would be the last. Harry deserved a little happiness after all he'd been through.

Harry stalked into the parlour and threw himself down onto his usual spot on the sofa. He yelped and leapt up again, furiously tossing aside the heavy tome he had accidentally sat down upon. Remus winced as the old book hit the hardwood floor and skidded.

"What happened?" Lupin asked, concern evident in his tone and in the expression on his thin face.

"I kissed him," Harry said, sounding as if kissing the man in question were the worst thing imaginably. "And then he threw me out."

Remus rubbed his temples tiredly. He had a feeling that getting the full story out of Harry would take most of the night. "He threw you out because you kissed him?" he asked.

"Yes," Harry replied automatically, crossing his arms across his chest and leaning back into the sofa cushions. "No," he added. "Maybe...."

Fighting the urge to smile, Remus moved to sit beside Harry on the sofa. He rested a comforting hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Why don't you start at the beginning?"

With a good deal of backtracking, and without ever revealing the identity of the other man involved, Harry managed to tell Remus about the events of the evening. When at last he had finished his tale, Harry sighed.

"I've made a real mess of things," he said in a near whisper.

"You made a few mistakes, I'll give you that," Remus replied. "What do you think was your biggest mistake?" he asked, feeling that getting into Harry's mind would be more productive than just doling out advice.

Harry considered the question for a moment. "My biggest mistake was thinking that it would be possible to have a healthy relationship with Draco Malfoy," he mused, still lost in thought.

"Draco Malfoy?" Remus asked, certain that he had imagined that name coming from Harry's lips. After all, the two boys had hated one another back at school.

Harry glanced up, his eyes wide with alarm. Apparently, he hadn't intended to reveal Draco's identity. Remus forced what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

"Yes, Draco Malfoy," Harry admitted.

Remus sat quietly for a moment, thinking of the confused boy he had befriended ever so briefly during his term as Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts. The private boy had been quite different from the public one, even then. Given Harry's description of the nights events, Remus felt certain that Draco had managed to grow up to be his own person, rather than a carbon copy of his father, and that thought pleased him immensely. He turned Harry's story over in his mind again.

"Harry," he said at last, "I feel as if there are some details you've left out - important details."

Harry refused to look at him but nodded slightly.

"Tell me?" Remus prompted gently.

"After....after I kissed him, I...I rather insinuated that I should like to...to spend the night with him," Harry stammered.

"And that's when he threw you out?"

"He didn't actually throw me out," Harry admitted. "He just...he just made it clear that he thought my staying the night was a bad idea," he finished weakly.

"And?"

"He said we needed time to think about things. I told him I didn't need time. I...I told him I knew what I wanted. He jerked away like I had slapped him. Told me that he had no intention of sleeping with me and that if I didn't like it I could bloody well fuck off," Harry fumed.

Remus coughed to hide a laugh. "Were those his exact words, then?" he asked.

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, and sighed. "No. Something along the lines of if I didn't respect him enough to back off and give him time then I wasn't worth his time."

"Ah," Remus said, smiling.

"You agree with him!" Harry accused, hurt shining in his eyes.

"Calm down, Harry," Remus said levelly. "Calm down and think. Really think about the situation, and then you tell me which of you was in the wrong."

Harry stood and began to pace, running his hands through his too short hair. At last, he stopped his pacing and came to kneel at Remus' feet, looking up into the older man's kindly brown eyes.

"Me," Harry whispered. "I was in the wrong."

Remus answered the admission with a warm smile. "So tell him that."

"You want me to apologise to Malfoy," Harry replied flatly.

"What I want is not the issue. I'm merely telling you that if you want to work things out with Draco then you should apologise for being so insensitive. If he cares about you at all, he'll accept the apology and all will be well."

"And if he doesn't accept?"

"Then you know he's the same prat he's always been and you can go on with your life," Remus replied sagely.

Harry laughed, seemingly surprised at the sound. "I'm being an idiot, aren't I?"

"You always are where relationships are concerned."

"What do you know of my relationships?" Harry countered, twisting around to sit rather than kneel beside the sofa.

"More than you might expect," Remus answered cryptically. "More, in fact, than I ever wanted to."

"You shouldn't believe everything you read in the Daily Prophet," Harry told him with a little grin.

"You're changing the subject," Remus chided.

"Of course I am," Harry replied offhandedly.

"You should invite him to dinner," Remus remarked, changing the subject back to Draco.

"Somewhere chic and refined like the restaurant he introduced me to last night? No, thanks. I think I'll pass," Harry replied sourly.

"I meant you should invite him to dinner here," Remus explained patiently.

Harry considered the suggestion. "You think that having a chaperone of sorts around might help?" Harry asked.

"Actually, I simply thought it would be nice to see him again. Now that you mention it, though, Draco might well be more comfortable in a situation that doesn't involve the two of you being alone together."

"Remus...why do you think Draco reacted like that?" Harry asked, turning to look up into his friend's face again.

Remus leaned forward to meet Harry's serious gaze. "I think that you should talk to Draco about that, Harry," he said quietly. "I may have theories, but only he knows for certain why he shied away from you. Give him a little time, and he may even volunteer the reason. Be patient, Harry. You've had enough of jumping in over your head," Remus said.

Harry sighed. "I'm such a fuckup," he said.

"What is it the Muggles say? Hindsight is 20/20? You can't change the past, Harry, anymore than I can. We both of us have to live with the mistakes we've made. We're two halves of the same coin, you know. I spent my life afraid to love anyone, and you've spent yours determined to love anyone who will accept it. I'm not at all certain your way isn't the better of the two," Remus said, looking pensive.

"So we're both fuckups," Harry amended. "At least we can be miserable together."

"Can we be miserable together tomorrow?" Remus asked. "This old man needs sleep," he added, pushing himself to his feet.

With a grin, Harry bid Remus goodnight. Aware that he had made a right mess of his new dress robes, he got up off the floor, dusting debris from the soft fabric. Not altogether reassured by Lupin's 'pep talk', Harry headed for his own bed where he lay awake for some time replaying the evening's events in his mind.

Sleep did not come easily, and when at last it did come, it was neither peaceful nor refreshing.

**************

On Monday afternoon, Draco dutifully headed to Hogwarts to collect his son. He knew that Harry would be waiting on the front steps with Adrian, and he had no idea what to say to the man. He wasn't even entirely certain whether his anxiety was due to a desire to see Harry or a desire to avoid him.

Sure enough, there Harry stood, chatting and laughing with Adrian. Seraphine was with them, as was another girl whom Draco didn't know. Whatever he was telling the children, Harry had their undivided attention.

"I can't believe Da' was ever like that," Draco heard the unfamiliar girl say. She pushed a lock of dark brown hair out of her face and looked up at Harry adoringly.

"Well, you can't expect him to get into mischief the way he did when he was your age," Harry said. "Besides, you get into enough trouble for the both of you."

The girl giggled. "Just you wait," she said. "Da' says I'll be much more trouble in a year or two," she said wisely.

"He means you'll be more trouble when you discover you have hormones," Harry replied.

That remark sent both girls into a fit of giggles.

Smiling slightly to himself, Draco stepped up to join the little group.

"Dad!" Adrian cried, throwing himself into his father's arms as if it had been a year rather than a week since he had last seen the man.

Draco hugged his son tightly, and then accepted another exuberant hug from his daughter.

"Dad, this is my friend, Ella," Sera said, introducing the other girl.

The girl extended one slim hand to Draco. "Eleanor Weasley," she offered, smiling brightly when Draco shook her hand and introduced himself. "Yes, I know," she replied. "Uncle Ron would skin me alive for being civil to you," she said cheerily.

"Honestly, Eleanor, have you no tact?" Sera asked, turning her tiny nose in the air in a gesture that reminded Draco strongly of his mother.

"Nope, not a bit," Ella replied with a wide smile. "It was nice meeting you, Mr. Malfoy," she added. Grabbing Sera's arm, she tugged the girl away from the group. Sera waved briefly to her dad before turning back to her friend as she headed towards the lake.

"Sera wants to meet Dr. Ponsford," Adrian announced. "She thinks counselling sounds...um..." he looked up at Harry for assistance.

"She thinks counselling sounds like a rewarding career," Harry explained.

Draco turned to stare at the retreating form of his daughter, and then looked back at Harry. "Did having a career ever cross your mind when you were thirteen?" he asked, looking a bit rattled.

"No, I don't think so," Harry confessed.

"The girl worries me sometimes," Draco said.

"She was trying to impress Ella," Adrian noted.

"Why would she need to work to impress that girl?" Draco asked. Seeing the dark expression that crossed Harry's face, he quickly amended the question. He honestly hadn't meant the remark the way it had come out, and the last thing he wanted was to further alienate Harry. "What I mean to say is that Eleanor seems the type to like a person based on....well, what the person is like rather than who she is or pretends to be, if that makes any sense."

"In other words, she's a bit like her Uncle Ron," Harry replied casually.

Draco rubbed his eyes and sighed. He had known the subject of Ron Weasley would come up eventually. "Yes, rather like her Uncle," Draco agreed. "Although," he added, "I do hope the girl is a bit less vindictive and a tad more even-tempered."

Sensing the tension growing between the two adults, Adrian decided to step in. "She doesn't want to make Eleanor like her," he explained. "She wants to seem more grown up because she fancies Ella's cousin."

Draco looked positively green at the mere mention of his daughter fancying anyone.

"Which cousin?" Harry asked, sounding a bit alarmed.

"The Veela one," Adrian replied impatiently. "Dad, we're going to be late!"

"Veela?" Draco asked, concerned.

"Armand's Mum was part Veela," Harry explained. "Fleur Delacour. She was one of the Triwizard champions."

"She married a Weasley?" Draco asked, sounding surprised.

"No, she f..." Harry began hotly, his voice trailing off as he became aware of Adrian's curious gaze following the flow of conversation. "That is...er...she and Bill never married."

"I see," Draco replied quietly. He, too, was now aware that his adolescent son was hanging on their every word. "We should be going," he added. His heart hammered in his chest as he waited what seemed like an eternity to learn whether Harry would accompany them into Hogsmeade.

"We can continue our conversation on the way, if you like," Harry suggested a bit nervously. Draco had a feeling that Potter was asking for permission to join them, and he quickly nodded his assent.

"Tell me more about this Armand," Draco prompted as the trio made their way across Hogwarts grounds. "Should I be concerned?"

Harry ran a hand through his dark hair, considering his words. "Armand is living proof that Weasleys should never marry Veela," he began. "Or breed with them. Both Veela and the Weasley clan have notoriously volatile tempers. You know first hand what Fred and Ron were like. Armand is worse."

"Sera is never going near him," Draco said firmly.

"Probably a wise decision, though I doubt she'd see it that way," Harry agreed. "For the record, Armand isn't a bad kid. He's intelligent and well-mannered and hardly ever gets into trouble at school. He's a prefect, actually, and will likely earn more than a few OWLS next month."

"He's in fifth year?" Draco asked, looking more worried by the minute.

"Er...yes."

"That settles it. If he as much as looks at Sera, I'm bringing her home," Draco swore.

"Dad!" Adrian cried.

"Don't you think that's a little extreme?" Harry asked with a smile.

"No, Potter, I don't," Draco replied curtly, although he did think it extreme and would never actually follow through with it. "I'm a bit young to be a grandparent, don't you think?"

"You're not making sense," Harry said.

Draco stopped in the middle of the lane. "When you were fifteen, did you think about anything other than sex?" he asked.

Harry gave him a strange look.

"All right. Did you think about anything other than sex and the possibility of dying a horrible death at Voldemort's hands?"

"Actually, I didn't discover sex until a bit later on," Harry replied.

Aware of Adrian watching them with wide eyes, Draco began to walk again. "Suffice it to say, Harry, that most of the boys in our year were not as sexually repressed as you obviously were. You got a late start."

"I made up for it," Harry muttered.

Draco glanced over at Harry, pondering the remark. The comment was wide open for interpretation, and he found himself wondering whether Harry was merely noting a vastly increased interest in sex or whether the man had gleaned more than his share of practical experience. The troubled expression on Harry's face could be indicative of either.

"Dad?" Adrian asked hesitantly, drawing his father's attention away from a frank perusal of Harry's face.

Draco looked down at his son with a somewhat guilty expression. "What is it, Adrian?"

"Can we talk about something else?" The boy's cheeks were bright pink and he looked decidedly uncomfortable.

"Yes, of course," Draco replied quickly. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I just don't want to know, you know? I might be almost twelve, but I'm still too young to be scarred for life." Adrian turned to Harry. "I'm twelve next month, did you know? You'll come to my birthday dinner, won't you?" he asked.

"Adrian, honestly," Draco chided. "That is hardly the way to extend a proper invitation."

Harry grinned down at Adrian. "I promise you that if you extend me a proper invitation that I will come to your birthday dinner," he said. From the corner of his eye, he could see Draco smirking.

Adrian seemed more than satisfied with Harry's answer. "Cool," he said. "Dad always lets us have whatever we want for our birthday dinners. Well, almost. One time, me and Damien tried to convince him to let us have just sweets, but he said 'no'."

"Damien and I," Draco corrected automatically, torn between frowning and smirking when Adrian rolled his eyes. He settled for disregarding the impertinent gesture altogether.

Grinning, Harry opened the door to Dr. Ponsford's office and held it for the two Malfoys. He shrugged off Sheila's calculating glance and settled himself into a chair near Draco.

As soon as the two men were alone, Harry suffered a miserable moment of doubt. Draco seemed to be trying to ignore Harry's very existence, and Harry found himself suddenly very nervous. His agitation and anxiety managed to utterly destroy his well-rehearsed monologue.

"I know I've really buggered things up," he blurted out at last. "I never meant to imply that...that I don't care or that I don't respect you. I...Draco, I'm very sorry for pressing the issue the other night," Harry said in a rush, never looking up from where his hands lay twined in his lap.

"Apology accepted," Draco replied quietly. "I'm afraid this may take more work than either of us counted on," he apologised.

"I remember one of my Muggle teachers telling me once that nothing worth having is every easy to attain," Harry mused. "I grew up believing that."

"Yes, well, I grew up believing that if a thing was worth having then my father likely already owned it," Draco replied a little bitterly.

Harry gently took Draco's hand in his own, smiling when Draco's fingers twined with his. Draco relaxed a little, although his heart still raced in his chest. Harry wasn't going to walk away; the rest, they could work out.

"Will you have dinner with me this weekend?" Harry asked.

"You're not planning on dragging me to one of those horrid Muggle take-away places are you?"

Harry laughed. "No, though I'll have to file that idea away for future reference," he teased. "Actually, Remus suggested I invite you to join us one evening. Cooking has become one of his favourite hobbies. He's forever trying to fatten me up. He's as bad as Molly Weasley," Harry explained, shaking his head and grinning.

"In that case, I'd be delighted," Draco answered honestly. Some of his fondest memories of his childhood were of the time spent with Lupin, and he had been wondering for some time how to go about reconnecting with the man. The presence of a third party would also help prevent another disastrous scene.

"Friday evening?"

Draco assured Harry that Friday evening would be perfectly acceptable. "Around seven, if that's all right," he added. "I'll be at Mother's, and she always keeps me rather late," he explained.

Smiling, Harry leaned in and kissed Draco on the cheek.

"I had best go and tell Remus to be expecting us. I'll see you on Friday."

As the door shut behind Harry, Draco sat back in his chair, a wave of relief washing over him. Glad as he was that he and Harry weren't on the outs, it wouldn't do to seem too eager to stay in Harry's good favour. Better to play the part of the scorned lover reluctantly granting absolution for Harry's sins than to let the other man know how desperately he wanted this relationship to work.