Second Chances

Draco took his time walking back to the infirmary, playing and replaying Harry's confession in his head. To say that he was shocked would be a vast understatement. In fact, he felt uncertain as to whether he would ever really be able to wrap his mind around the idea of Harry as a murderer. He wasn't even sure, under the circumstances, that the term 'murderer' should apply to the man. After all, it had been a time of war, and soldiers generally were not condemned for the lives they took in battle - at least not in the judicial sense. Draco wondered vaguely if Harry had actually used the Killing Curse and whether, under the circumstances, it actually would be considered 'unforgivable' if he had.

Wrapped in his thoughts, Draco made his way through the halls of Hogwarts, his steps slower and less certain than usual. Headmistress McGonagall met him outside of the infirmary.

"I was wondering if I might have a private word with you, Mr. Malfoy," she said.

"Of course," Draco replied, though he really wanted nothing more than to look in on his son.

The headmistress led him up to her office, offered him tea, and bade him have a seat. Draco dropped wearily into a chair, gratefully accepting a ginger biscuit and a cup of soothing tea.

"Have you given my offer any more thought?" McGonagall asked, peering at him over the edge of her own teacup.

When the Headmistress had first offered him the Transfigurations position after learning that he had tutored his children - and done a fine job of it - Draco had given her the most noncommittal response he could muster. Since then, he had considered the offer from all possible angles, but so far had reached no definite decision.

"I have considered your offer," Draco replied, "but to be honest, I can't seem to decide whether I should take you up on it. I have to think of what's best for my children."

"Of course you do," Minerva replied, sounding as if he were daft for pointing out the obvious. "Recent events have made me wonder if your presence might not be a calming influence on the boys, and perhaps provide a bit of a safety net for Adrian."

Draco sat for a moment, staring down into his tea in quiet contemplation. "Perhaps you're right," he said at last. "However, I have a few projects in the works that require my complete attention for the next several weeks. I don't know that I would have enough time to devote to developing the curricula."

"There are guidelines in place now that didn't exist when you were a student. In fact those guidelines are in place partly due to the ineptitude of several of the teachers you studied under. The late Headmaster saw to the development of a loose set of rules governing what information should be taught at what level."

"If I may, Headmistress...if there are such strictures in place, how is it that the current Transfiguration teacher is problematic?"

"Simply put, she doesn't know how to teach. She has no patience for the students and a decided lack of expository skills," McGonagall replied, sounding quite agitated.

"I see. So I would have basic parameters set, then," Draco mused. "Still, I haven't any experience. I'm not certain I'm up to the challenge."

"You were an excellent student of Transfiguration, Mr. Malfoy, and you're a natural leader. I'm certain you'll have no trouble adapting your public speaking skills to the classroom setting. Furthermore, I'm certain that I could answer any questions you might have along the way. I do know a little about the subject of Transfiguration, after all," she replied with a small, tight smile.

"If you're certain..." Draco said, letting his voice trail off.

"I am," Minerva replied adamantly.

Draco smiled, rose, and extended his hand. "Then I would be honoured to join the Hogwarts staff next term."

Standing, Minerva took the offered hand and gave it a business-like shake. "I shall look forward to working with you, Draco," she said.

"And I, you," he replied. "If it's all right, I'd prefer to discuss the details another time. I'd like to look in on Damien, now."

"Of course," Minerva replied, moving to open the door for Draco. "I hope he's feeling better soon. He's such a dear child, for all he's so much like his father was at that age," she added.

Draco chuckled as he stepped out of the office. His step was a little lighter, now, as he headed back to the infirmary. It had helped to distance himself from the scene with Harry.

Silently, Draco pushed open the door to the infirmary and stepped inside, noticing at once that the curtains had been drawn around Damien's bed. His heart jumped in alarm, but calmed again when he realised that Damien's voice, along with Adrian's, was drifting quietly from behind the curtain.

"I'm glad you're feeling better," Adrian said to his brother. "I was really worried."

There was a pause, and Draco moved a little farther into the room. He stopped when Adrian spoke again.

"Hagrid said he doesn't know why the thestrals did that to you," he said apologetically. "They don't ever hurt people."

"They did this time," Damien replied bitterly.

"Yeah, I know. But we can't figure out why. I mean, they didn't hurt me, and I was riding one, too," Adrian said.

"How did you get it to fly, anyway?" Damien said, trying to sound nonchalant.

"I just told it what I wanted it to do," Adrian replied.

"And it did what you told it?" Damien asked, sounding surprised. No response came from Adrian, but Draco assumed the boy must have nodded an affirmative, because Damien snorted. "It's just a dumb animal, Adrian, it doesn't understand English."

"That's not true!" Adrian cried. "Thestrals aren't dumb, and they do understand when you talk to them. All the books I've read said that's how you can get them to take you wherever you want to go. And they never get lost, either."

"You really did just talk to it?" Damien asked, almost too quietly for Draco to hear.

"Of course I did." There was another pause. "Why? What did you do, Damien?" Adrian asked worriedly.

"Nothing," Damien replied, a little too quickly. "I didn't do anything. I never had the chance."

"Bullshit," Adrian replied. Draco made a mental note to speak to the boy about his rough slang. "I covered for you, Damien. Tell me what you did," he demanded harshly.

Damien whispered something Draco couldn't hear.

"What?" Adrian shouted. From the corner of his eye, Draco saw the door to Poppy's office open, and he gestured for her to keep quiet. "Damien, how could you?" Adrian asked, his voice laced with anguish. "How would you like it if someone kicked you in the ribs to try to make you walk? How could you be so stupid?"

Draco crossed the remaining distance between himself and his boys in a few long strides and jerked the curtain aside. Two guilty faces looked up at him in alarm.

"Adrian, that's enough," Draco said in a quiet, calm voice. Adrian looked down at his hands and said nothing. Draco sighed and sat down on the edge of Damien's bed. "What am I going to do with you two?" he asked with an exasperated sigh.

Damien sank back into the pillows he lay propped up against, looking troubled, and Adrian pulled his feet up in his chair so he could hide his face against his knees. They so hated for their father to be disappointed in them.

"Keep them and love them, I would imagine," Poppy said wisely, interrupting the uneasy silence, as she moved to take Damien's thin wrist in her hand. Satisfied with his pulse rate, she cast a few spells to check other vital signs and then gave a little nod. "You'll be right as rain in time for classes on Monday," she told the boy. "Rest today, and tomorrow you can catch up your revising."

The mediwitch headed back to her office, mumbling to herself about how she would never finish her potion inventory at the rate she was going. The door to her office closed with a quiet click, leaving the three Malfoys alone.

"I'm sorry, Dad," Adrian whispered after a few more minutes had passed.

"It isn't me you should be apologising to," Draco reminded him gently.

Adrian lifted his head and looked at his brother. "I'm sorry I yelled at you," he said.

Damien looked down, shame-faced. "I deserved it," he whispered. He sat quietly for a minute, and then looked up at his father. "Adrian lied to you, Dad. It wasn't his fault. It was mine."

"Damien!" Adrian hissed.

"I know," Draco replied. Both boys turned to stare at him. How was it that Father always knew things? "You know I don't approve of you lying, especially to me. I didn't say anything because you were trying to protect your brother."

"I'm sorry I lied," Adrian said. He fidgeted, and Draco knew he wanted to be hugged and forgiven.

"I'm not really sorry that you did," Draco replied. "It's good to know that you two are looking out for one another. Just don't make a habit of telling tales, all right?" He smiled at his youngest son and held out one arm in invitation. Adrian practically jumped out of his chair and threw himself into his father's embrace.

Damien watched the two for a moment. "Grandfather says that hugging all the time is undignified."

Adrian pressed closer to his father, and Draco tightened his arm around his son, taking a deep breath before allowing himself to respond. "Your grandfather and I have very different views on a good many things, Damien. He has never cared for physical displays of affection, but I don't think they're undignified at all. I rather like hugs, and I intend to get as many as I can before you lot are too old for such things," he said, giving Adrian a little squeeze. "As you get older, you're going to have to start deciding things for yourself, Damien, rather than just listening to what I or your Grandfather have to say. It's perfectly all right to ask for our opinions, but only you can know what works best for you."

Damien chewed his lip thoughtfully. He looked at his brother, snuggled contentedly against their father's side. It had been a long time since he'd hugged Dad, and even longer since he'd snuggled up to him like that. Grandfather had told him years ago that Dad was going to ruin Adrian by coddling him too much, but maybe he had been wrong. It was something to think about.

As Damien lay back considering his father's words, the door to the infirmary opened again. Draco looked up to see a familiar-looking dark-haired girl peek in, followed almost immediately by his own daughter.

"You're awake," Sera said to her brother, smiling. "When we looked in earlier, you were still asleep," she explained, squeezing by Draco and Adrian to give Damien a kiss on the forehead. "Everyone's been worried about you."

Damien smiled weakly. "Sorry," he said. Sera gave him a sympathetic smile and sat primly in the chair Adrian had vacated earlier.

The other girl, who Draco finally recognised as Eleanor Weasley, paused uncertainly at the foot of Damien's bed before moving around to the side opposite the family. "You are an utter fool, Damien Malfoy," she chided him teasingly. "Don't bother trying to bribe me for information ever again, because you won't get it, not if this is the result."

Damien flushed slightly and cast a surreptitious glance at his dad, hoping he hadn't heard Ella's remark. Unfortunately, he had.

"Bribery, Damien?" Draco asked, raising one eyebrow. He wondered if the boy had learned that from his grandfather, as well.

"Bribery," Ella affirmed with a brisk nod. "And don't think you're squirming out of your end of the bargain just because you landed yourself in hot water."

"I'm a Malfoy," Damien replied, lifting his chin proudly. "We don't weasel our way out of commitments."

Ella's dark eyes flashed dangerously at the word 'weasel', and Draco had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. The scene reminded him a little of his school days, when he used to bait Ella's uncle Ron with that same derogatory play on the family name. "I should hope not," Ella replied coolly. "I've an essay to write," she announced. "Sera, I shall see you in the library."

With one last menacing glare at Damien, the Weasley girl turned on her heel and strode from the infirmary with a swirl of robes that reminded Draco strongly of Snape. The girl was so very un-Weasley that Draco had a difficult time believing she could possibly be related to the red-haired git that he had so often fought with back at school.

"What exactly did you promise her, anyway?" Sera asked, intrigued.

Damien flushed again. "Nothing, really," he said. "I'm very tired." He leaned back against his pillows and closed his eyes.

At a word from their father, Adrian and Sera said a quiet goodbye. With promises to return later, they headed off to study. Draco brushed Damien's fringe back from his face. "Is it all right if I stay here while you sleep?" he asked.

"I'm not really that tired," Damien admitted. "I just didn't want Sera asking stupid questions. She's always poking her nose into my business."

Draco smirked and shook his head slightly. At times, Damien was a little too much like he had been as a child, a little too Slytherin.

"Dad?" Damien asked, drawing Draco out of his reverie. "You know how when we were little, and we had nightmares, you'd hold us till we fell asleep?" He refused to meet his father's eyes.

Draco smiled and brushed his fingers through Damien's hair again. "I don't think we should be moving you," he said gently.

"Madame Pomfrey said I could get up a little, if I felt able."

"Come on, then," Draco replied. He helped Damien to stand, rather shakily, and take the few steps from the bed to the chair. Settling himself for a long stay, Draco sank into the chair and pulled Damien ever so carefully onto his lap. Soon, his children would all be too big for such things. Draco was surprised at the sharp pang of loss he felt at the realisation. He had always loved cuddling his children, but he had never thought how he would miss it. Burying his face in Damien's soft blond hair, Draco sighed. He just wasn't ready for his children to grow into young adults. Besides, between this whatever it was with Harry, the feud with his father, his work, and the normal trials of raising a family, he had as much as he could handle without having to worry about hormones and puberty.

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

Harry spent the majority of the day shut up in his office brooding and trying to correct essays. He skipped dinner, deciding that he could slip down to the kitchens later, when he wouldn't risk running into anyone who might guess that something was amiss. He stared at his students' work until his eyes burned and the words danced on the page, but concentrating on the familiar material and the comfortable routine helped calm him.

A knock on the office door drew Harry out of his work-frenzy with a start. His mind had been a million miles away. So much for constant vigilance.

"Come in," he called wearily, never looking up from the essay he was marking.

"Harry," Draco greeted, his voice gentle and warm.

Harry laid his quill aside carefully before forcing himself to look up into Draco's face. He remained silent, not trusting his voice.

"I just came to say 'good night'. Damien's asleep. Pomfrey is releasing him in the morning, so she's sent me home to rest," Draco explained with a small, uncertain smile.

"I'm glad he's doing so well," Harry replied. The words sounded foreign, as if they had passed his lips without ever going through his brain. "I'll see you on Monday?" he asked, nervously rifling through a stack of essays.

"Actually, I was hoping you could do something for me," Draco replied cautiously.

Harry looked up, surprised. "What's that?" he asked.

"Could you bring Adrian into Hogsmeade on Monday? I got a bit behind on my work, coming up here, and I've some things I desperately need to finish up. I'm not certain I'll be done in time for Adrian's appointment."

"Of course," Harry replied, trying not to sound disappointed. He stared down at the essays in his hands, wondering again if he had been wrong to tell Draco everything. He feared that perhaps this favour was merely Draco's way of avoiding him.

The rustle of fabric and a slight displacement of air drew Harry from his thoughts, and he looked up to see that Draco had moved to stand beside his chair. He shook his head slightly to clear it. His inability to concentrate on the here-and-now was exactly what had nearly cost Tonks her life. Somehow, he had to learn to keep his mind from wandering.

"Harry?" Draco said softly.

Harry cursed under his breath. His mind had wandered off into the topic of not letting his mind wander. He forced himself to look up into Draco's eyes.

"Are you going to be all right?" the blond asked.

"I... It's been a long day," Harry said. He knew he hadn't exactly answered Draco's question, but it was the only thing he knew to say.

To Harry's surprise, Draco reached out one elegant hand and caressed his cheek. He leaned forward, scowling when his hair fell into his face. Brushing the blond locks back over his shoulder, he pressed his lips against Harry's.

"I'll see you soon," Draco promised. A moment later, he was gone.

For quite some time, Harry simply sat there, savouring the memory of that chaste, gentle kiss. The kiss was all the proof he needed that Draco wasn't trying to avoid him and that somehow things would be all right. He let it buoy his spirits enough to propel him to his rooms, where, after downing a Sleeping Draught, he managed to fall into a fitful sleep.

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

On Monday afternoon, Harry dutifully collected Adrian and headed into Hogsmeade. The boy chatted away merrily about the day's classes, and Harry tried his best to listen attentively and comment accordingly. He was in a slightly better frame of mind than he had been on Saturday evening, and his concentration had improved, but the constant whirl of thoughts and emotions still made him poor company.

Handing Adrian over to Doctor Ponsford, Harry collapsed into a chair, relieved to be alone with his thoughts. When the door to the street opened a short time later, Harry scowled at the interruption and glanced up. Draco was standing just inside the door, as composed and immaculately groomed as usual. There were slight shadows under his eyes, and Harry wondered if the man had gone without sleep to catch up on whatever it was he had been working on.

"You look like hell," Draco said by way of greeting as he took the seat next to Harry's. "You haven't been sleeping well, have you?"

"I'm fine," Harry said dismissively.

Draco frowned slightly, obviously not believing Harry. He didn't contradict him, however. Instead, he sat collecting his thoughts for a moment.

"Harry, I've been thinking about what you told me," he said calmly. He could see Harry's hands tighten on the arms of his chair. Cautiously, he laid his own hand on Harry's arm in a gesture of comfort. "I wanted to ask you a question about what happened."

Harry licked his lips nervously. "Go on," he replied, surprised when his words came out as a whisper.

Forcing himself not to look away from the pain in Harry's eyes, Draco took a deep breath. "Did you use the Killing Curse, Harry?"

Harry's eyes widened slightly in surprise. He shook his head in a quick, jerky motion. "No. No, I never...I couldn't...my parents," he stammered.

Draco moved his hand from Harry's arm to the back of Harry's neck. "Calm down," he murmured. "Harry, you're a wreck. You need to talk to her about what happened. About what you did," he added, gesturing toward the door to Sheila's inner office. He pressed the fingers of his free hands to Harry's lip when the dark-haired man opened his mouth to protest.

"No one is going to send you to Azkaban, Harry. Firstly, Dr. Ponsford isn't going to tell anyone. What goes on behind that door stays behind that door; that's what she told me the first time she and I discussed Adrian. Secondly, you were an Auror and Lestrange was wanted dead or alive, so there was no crime committed. Lastly, no one could charge you, much less convict you, in conjunction with the death of Peter Pettigrew. Your godfather already served the sentence for that. Besides, the Ministry never admitted that he was still alive. They would have a hard time sending you to Azkaban for killing someone who supposedly died when you were an infant."

Harry swallowed thickly and fought back tears that he refused to let fall. He thought about what Draco was saying. It all made perfect sense. He continued to sit quietly, letting Draco's words sink in as he studied the man's face. Draco looked so very tired. Harry was certain he hadn't slept in days.

"This...this is the important work you needed to get finished?" Harry asked as the pieces all fell into place in his mind.

Draco just smiled and stroked Harry's cheek. "I wanted to be certain I was right about a few things," he replied. The research had helped him organise his own thoughts on the subject as well as aid Harry, but he kept that bit of information to himself. "Will you tell her now?" he asked.

"I...I'll try. It isn't that easy," Harry said, biting at his lip. "I'll talk to her before I leave and set up an appointment," he added.

"I took the liberty of setting that up for you," Draco admitted, turning his gaze to the painting on the far wall. "You're to see her as soon as she's done talking with Adrian."

Harry had a moment of blind panic as he realised that Draco intended for him to spill his darkest secrets here, today, in just a few more minutes. He knew that Draco had his best interests at heart, and he really couldn't fault him for trying to help. Under normal circumstances, he would have been appalled at anyone setting up an appointment of any type without his knowledge or consent, but these were not normal circumstances, and he could only feel a strange mixture of anxiety and relief.

"Thank you," he whispered, drawing Draco's attention back from the painting.

Smiling, Draco leaned forward to give Harry another sweet, soft kiss as he had on Saturday. Harry found himself returning Draco's smile in spite of his worry and fear. Settling back into his chair, Draco took Harry's hand in his and twined their fingers together, giving Harry both strength and comfort.

At last, Adrian emerged from Sheila's office, immediately throwing himself at his dad. Draco hugged the boy in a one-armed embrace, reluctant to let go of Harry's hand. Only when the doctor beckoned Harry into her office did Draco release him, pressing a soft kiss to the back of Harry's hand.

"Do you want me to wait for you?" Draco asked as Harry rose to join Dr. Ponsford.

Harry shook his head. "I don't know how long I'll be, and you should sleep," he replied.

Draco nodded and gave Harry one last reassuring smile before Sheila ushered Harry into her office. As he and Adrian headed toward Hogwarts, Draco's mind kept turning back toward Harry. The next hour or so would be difficult for Harry. He wished there was something more that he could do for the man, but knew that this hurdle was one Harry had to face on his own.