Second Chances

Much later, after a great deal more cuddling and a bite to eat, Draco and Adrian made the journey back to Hogwarts. Adrian was stumbling, half-asleep on his feet, by the time they reached the castle, and Draco had to fight the urge to carry his son to his room and tuck him into bed. Instead, they said goodnight in the Entrance Hall, as was their custom. After Adrian disappeared around the corner, rubbing his eyes sleepily, Draco headed off in the opposite direction. He hadn't gotten to say a proper goodbye to Harry earlier, and he felt compelled to seek the other man out now in order to do so.

As it was not yet curfew, there were still a few students roaming the hallways. Draco ignored them as he quickly made his way to Harry's office, and for the most part they seemed to disregard his presence there. Luckily, he didn't cross paths with either his own children or Ella Weasley; he honestly didn't want to have to come up with an excuse for his presence.

The door to the office was closed and warded. No light peeked from beneath the door, and no one answered when Draco knocked. Frowning slightly, Draco turned and swept down the hall in the direction of Harry's private rooms.

Pausing to be sure no students were about to overhear him, Draco pressed his hand to a certain section of wall and repeated Harry's password. A doorway formed, and Draco stepped into the dimly lit room. There was no sign of Harry anywhere.

With a tired sigh, Draco leaned back against the door. He knew that Harry could be anywhere in the castle, on the grounds, or in the world at large. He didn't want to spend the rest of the night trying to track him down. Best just to admit defeat and trek back to Hogsmeade.

Disappointed, Draco stepped back into the hallway. As he slowly walked through the quiet, familiar pathways, he mentally argued with himself. In the end, logic lost out to impulse, and Draco turned toward the staffroom. Just a quick look, and if Harry wasn't there, then he would give up and go home.

For once, giving in to impulse paid off. Draco found Harry in the staffroom, curled up on a somewhat battered sofa, his nose buried in a massive text. At the sound of the door opening, Harry looked up. In the next instant, the book was cast aside and Harry was standing before Draco, smiling.

"If you're looking for Minerva, she's retired for the evening," Harry said, moving to wrap himself in Draco's arms.

"I was looking for you actually. I had wanted to talk to you before I left earlier, but I never had the chance," Draco explained.

Harry looked pleased. "You came looking for me?"

Draco chuckled. "Yes, well, don't let it go to your head," he teased.

"Did you talk to Sheila like we discussed?" Harry asked, turning suddenly serious. He felt Draco's body tense and wondered if he had been wrong to ask.

"Actually, Adrian and I skived off on his session," Draco replied, forcing his voice to remain calm. "We had a little chat about my father, and if I hadn't had to first console Adrian and then see him safely back to Hogwarts, I fear I might have landed myself in Azkaban tonight."

Harry moved one hand to the back of Draco's neck, slipping it under his hair to gently massage the tense muscles there in a gesture of reassurance. "I take it I was right," he said softly.

"The sorry bastard's been poisoning Adrian's mind for god knows how long," Draco spat. "And I was too fucking blind to see it."

"Don't you dare blame yourself for this," Harry snapped in a low, threatening tone. "The fault lies with Lucius, not with you."

Draco's reaction wasn't quite what Harry expected. Rather than flying into a rage or spouting off acid remarks, he buried his face in Harry's hair, clinging tightly to him. At a loss, Harry merely stroked Draco's back soothingly.

After a time, Draco gathered himself together. He straightened and gave Harry a tight little smile. "Sorry."

"Don't be," Harry replied automatically as he pushed Draco's hair back from his face.

"I didn't come to talk about my father," Draco said. "I actually came to apologise in advance. I'm going to be rather busy until the end of term. I want to get caught up on my projects before the children come home for the summer."

"Exams are next week," Harry replied, nodding in understanding. "With preparing for them, administering them, and then grading them, I'm going to be rather busy myself."

"Adrian says you've accepted his invitation to his and Damien's birthday celebration. That's the Monday after the end of term. Three weeks from today."

"Counting the days?" Harry asked with a grin.

"No, of course not. Merely counting the weeks," Draco replied playfully. "I will be looking forward to seeing you again," he added more seriously.

Harry just smiled and leaned in to claim Draco's mouth. The blond returned the kiss eagerly, sliding his tongue deftly between Harry's lips. With a stifled moan, Harry tangled his hands in the pale silk of Draco's hair and gave himself over to the exquisite feelings that Draco excited in him.

Draco shoved aside his inhibitions, overwhelmed by the need for comfort, the need to connect on some deep, primal, instinctual level with the extraordinary man wrapped in his arms. With no forethought, he lifted Harry easily and sat him on the staffroom table. For his part, Harry adapted quickly, tugging his robes up so that he could wrap his legs around Draco's hips and wriggle against him in a most delightful manner.

The two lost themselves in their lovemaking, their hands and mouths roving ceaselessly as they sought to memorise every nuance of one another's bodies. Draco fumbled with the fastenings on Harry's robes as he kissed him, frantic to taste more of his skin. As Draco finished unfastening the robes, Harry lay back on the table, letting his hands fall to either side of his head in a gesture of submission that had the added effect of causing his robes to fall open alluringly.

At the sight of Harry nearly naked and spread out on the table like a feast, Draco's breath caught in his throat. His last fleeting thought before his brain ceased functioning was that he was glad that Harry had for once forgone wearing Muggle clothes beneath his robes. With a desperate, feral sound, he leaned forward and licked Harry's nipple with the flat of his tongue. From the way that Harry's hips jerked and his animalistic moan, he liked it very much indeed.

With a mischievous smile, Draco lowered his head to resume his exploration of Harry's chest, this time employing his teeth in a way that Harry greatly appreciated. Harry did not, however, appreciate being bitten when the sound of the staffroom door snapping shut startled Draco; he yelped in pain, but otherwise remained absolutely motionless, staring at the door in horror.

Draco slowly lifted his head to look at Harry's face. The expression he saw there worried him. "Tell me it's not McGonagall," he whispered fearfully.

"I assure you that I am not the Headmistress," Snape's low voice informed him from the vicinity of the doorway.

Draco visibly relaxed as he turned to face the Potions Master. "Thank god for that," he said, both noticeably shaken and clearly relieved.

"I don't think that Minerva would condone such a public display," Snape said. He gave Harry a meaningful glare, satisfied when the younger professor flushed and quickly turned his attention to fastening his robes.

"I don't think she would, either," Draco agreed. "But surely you don't mind it, Severus," he added. His tone was light and teasing, and he was smiling rather coyly at the older man.

Harry's head snapped up, his eyes narrowed. If he didn't know better, he would swear that Draco was flirting. With Snape. Harry glared possessively as he slid from the table to stand between Snape and Draco.

Severus gave a little snort as he retrieved a book from a small table at one end of the sofa. "If I were you, I'd restrict such activities to more private locations. It would be a shame to be officially reprimanded before you even teach your first class." He paused, watching the two young men.

Draco had the smaller man wrapped protectively in his arms. Currently, he was nuzzling Harry's neck in a way that caused his green eyes to fall shut.

"I had no idea that the two of you were on such...intimate...terms," Snape stated with feigned indifference.

"Neither of us felt the need to have our relationship on the front page of the Daily Prophet," Draco explained, his lips brushing against Harry's ear.

Harry whimpered softly at the contact, and he immediately looked mortified, his cheeks pinking once again.

Snape smirked slightly at Harry's discomfiture. He had heard tales of Potter's escapades, and from Draco's comment, he had heard the tales as well. At least Draco had some idea what he was getting himself into. "Perhaps you have the right idea," he replied at last. "There are still those who would be less than understanding about a relationship such as yours."

"And they can go straight to Hell," Draco countered, tightening his arms around Harry. "Who I choose to care for is no one's business but mine."

"Agreed," Harry said, giving Draco's arm a little squeeze.

Severus couldn't help but think about his earlier encounter with Damien Malfoy. For Draco's sake, he hoped Damien's inappropriate remark had merely been the first thing to pop into the boy's head rather than some deeper homophobic reaction. Somehow, he felt that the child had been taught one of the more petty and annoying of his grandfather's prejudices. He made a mental note to keep an eye on the child. He made his excuses and retired to his rooms, leaving the two men alone.

"What was that all about?" Harry demanded.

"What was what all about?" Draco asked, honestly confused.

"Were you flirting with him?" The moment the question was out of his mouth, Harry wanted to take it back. It sounded silly. He looked away from Draco's eyes.

Draco laughed. "More or less. It's a long story, really."

Perplexed, Harry glanced up at Draco. "Tell me?"

"Erm. Well. I'm part of the reason that Severus tried to get Remus sacked," Draco began.

Harry slid his hand under his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose as he sank down onto the sofa. "Go on," he said.

"Remus and I were friends - you know that much. I...well, I rather fancied him. We were arguing about that restriction on lycanthrope procreation one night and I...I told him that he could win the argument by making it a moot point," Draco explained, the colour rising in his cheeks. "I threw myself at him."

Harry stared, the beginnings of amusement showing at the corners of his mouth and eyes.

"Severus chose that moment to bring Remus his Wolfsbane potion. He stalks in and there I am, straddling Remus' lap with my lips pressed to his.... God, he has the softest lips..." Draco's words trailed into silence as he let his mind drift back to that one unforgettable kiss.

Harry looked away from the small smile creasing the corners of Draco's mouth, not wanting Draco to see the jealousy he felt must surely show on his face. He wasn't particularly bothered that Draco seemed to remember that one long-ago kiss so fondly; more, he was envious that he had never engendered such a response in anyone - ever. After a moment, Draco's voice broke into his thoughts.

"Anyway," Draco continued, "Severus was convinced that Remus was to blame - never mind that the poor man was horrified. He decided that Remus was a paedophile and set out to have him thrown out of Hogwarts. He wouldn't believe Remus' protests, or mine, but he couldn't very well go to the Headmaster without proof. So he decided to attack through Remus' lycanthropy. I hated him for that." Draco stood for a moment, his mind obviously far away.

"I don't understand what that has to do with you flirting with Snape," Harry said, calling him back.

"Oh, that," Draco said, smiling slightly. "I wish the idea had occurred to me sooner, but it was only after Remus left the school that I really got angry enough to do what I did. The night that Remus left, I was furious. I went to Snape's office, raving and trying again to explain that he had the wrong idea. I think by that time that he knew he was wrong, but refused to admit it. Anyway, finally I decided that I would just have to prove my point - so I pounced on him."

"If you tell me he liked it, I'm going to Obliviate the both of us," Harry said, scrunching up his face in disgust.

"I think he would rather have been chopped up and boiled in one of his potions," Draco replied, leaning back against the table. "He was...I don't think there are words for what he was. He panicked and flung me away hard enough I cracked my head on the floor. After Madame Pomfrey patched me up, he apologised profusely. I didn't understand his reaction until years later."

Harry waited for a moment. When Draco didn't speak, he rolled his eyes in annoyance. "So, are you going to tell me?"

"I was trying to decide if that was relevant to the story. It isn't something Severus really wants bandied about, I'm sure," Draco explained. He moved to sit beside Harry on the sofa. "Promise me you'll never speak a word about this."

"I promise," Harry said sincerely.

"When Severus was much younger, younger than we are now, he...well, he rather fancied my father," Draco supplied, looking down at his hands. "Father, being the unmitigated prick that he is, was disgusted to learn of Severus' feelings. I don't know the full details, but he said and did some hurtful things to Severus. He says now that he was too young to realise what he was feeling, that he was just in awe of Father's power and influence and overwhelmed by his attention, but I don't know that it's true. And before you ask, no he doesn't play for our team. Father was an exception, not the rule."

Harry nodded solemnly. "It's easy to fall prey to someone who shows you any bit of attention or affection when it's something you aren't used to," he said quietly. "It amazes me sometimes how much Snape and I are alike. It frightens me, at times."

"Why does it frighten you? A person could do much worse than to be like Severus," Draco replied, a hint of angry disapproval in his voice.

"For...I don't know how long, years maybe, I've been afraid I would end up bitter and angry and alone, shying away from society, hiding here at Hogwarts...."

"Hush, now," Draco said softly, pulling Harry into his arms, alarmed by the anguish in the other man's voice.

To Draco's surprise, Harry chuckled softly. "There are times, Draco, when I swear you think I'm one of your children."

Draco laughed softly. "I've had thirteen years of being a father and a few months of being your...whatever I am. The paternal instincts are a bit stronger, I'm afraid."

"Everything," Harry whispered, burrowing farther into Draco's arms.

"Everything?" Draco asked, confused by the seeming non-sequitur.

"My everything," Harry clarified. "That's what you are."

Draco stroked Harry's hair. "That's a lot to live up to," he mused. He could feel Harry shake his head slightly.

"It isn't something to live up to, Draco. It's the end result of being who you are," Harry explained.

Draco remained silent, shifting a little so that Harry was lying with his head in his lap. They stayed like that for a long while before finally reluctantly going their separate ways.

All during the walk home, Draco turned Harry's words over in his mind. How had things come so far so fast? He wondered if he and Harry were getting in over their heads. As he climbed into bed, wishing that Harry were there in his arms, he realised that even if they were in over their heads, he didn't mind a bit.

*

Despite the fact that Draco buried himself in his work, the time until the end of term seemed to drag by. He missed his and Harry's conversations as well as the kisses and caresses . They owled, of course, but it simply wasn't the same.

For Harry, the weeks whizzed by in a flurry of classes and exams, punctuated with overtaxed students begging for extra help. He made time to contact Remus on the Floo to make certain he was all right after the full moon, and he and Draco sent one another a few sporadic notes filled with an odd mixture of remembrances, suggestiveness, and chat about Draco's children. His days were busy, but the nights were misery. Having had Draco in his bed, he found it difficult to sleep alone.

Shortly before the end of term, Harry received an unusual and unexpected message just as he was dismissing his last class of the afternoon: he had a visitor and should come directly to the staffroom. Harry's heart began to race even as he told himself that the visitor in question couldn't possibly be Draco. He immediately rose and headed for the staffroom, forcing himself not to race down the corridors and stairs.

When Harry nervously entered the staffroom, he found the last person he would have expected.

"Ron!" he exclaimed, surprised by the sight of his old friend. They owled each other fairly regularly, but he hadn't seen the other man since the Christmas holidays. Between his work at the Ministry and his housefull of children, Ron was always rather busy, but Harry knew it was his own preoccupation with Draco and his children that had keep he and his friend apart the past few months.

"Hullo, Harry," Ron greeted cheerfully, greeting Harry with an enthusiastic hug.

"I wasn't expecting you," Harry admitted. "I was going to owl you later on and make plans to come and see you and Hannah."

"The kids will drive you half mad," Ron said, grinning broadly. It was no secret that Ron Weasley was crazy about his rambunctious children. "Rebecca has learned the fine art of the temper tantrum, Daniel's turning out to be as much of a prankster as the twins ever were, and Lauren talks about nothing except Quidditch, boys, and going off to school next year."

Harry's eyes widened slightly. He hadn't realised that Lauren was old enough to be starting at Hogwarts, and the information was a bit of a shock to his system. "When did we get old?" he thought to himself. He forced his attention back to Ron when he realised the other man had continued to speak.

"Harry," Ron said, looking rather serious. "Mum and Dad said you came to see them just recently."

"Yes," Harry managed to say. So Ron knew his dirty little secret. Still, he hadn't acted any differently - had he?

"Dad told me everything you told them," Ron said. He hesitated for a moment, running his hands through his hair with a frustrated sigh. "Damn it, Harry, you should have come to me with this."

"You had your hands more than full without having to play nursemaid to me," Harry replied a bit angrily, turning to lean against the table.

"Harry," Ron said softly, resting his hand on the other man's back. When Harry didn't look around, he called his name again, and Harry reluctantly turned to meet his eyes. "I thought we were friends. Are friends."

"We are. Aren't we?" Harry said, sounding suddenly afraid.

"And doesn't friendship mean we're here for each other when the world goes to shit?" Ron asked.

Harry looked away again. He didn't know what to say.

Ron sighed. "If you had come to me, I could have handled things with Mum. She still gets really emotional whenever the war is mentioned. Well, we all do, really, but especially Mum. I can imagine what it would do to me to have to bury even one of my children, and Mum and Dad went through it three times. Part of Mum died with George, and another part with Percy, and another with Ginny." He paused to rather awkwardly embrace Harry. "God, don't cry, Harry. You'll get me started, too."

"Sorry," Harry replied softly, wiping away tears he hadn't even known were falling.

"When I talked to Mum, she was feeling really bad about whatever it was she said to you..."

"She said she couldn't stand to look at me," Harry replied tonelessly.

"She was upset," Ron rationalised. "She's still upset, actually, and disappointed that you took matters into your own hands instead of going through proper channels. But that's Mum - thinks you have to behave like a proper gentleman even in the middle of a war. Don't take it to heart, Harry. She'll come around."

"Thanks," Harry said, drying his eyes again.

"For the record, none of the rest of us feels any differently about you than we ever have. You're still an honorary Weasley. You can't get out of it that easily."

Harry chuckled softly. He felt better about the Molly situation, now, and just having Ron around always cheered him. He was in no hurry to part company yet. "Can I buy you dinner in Hogsmeade? Or at least a butterbeer?" he asked, hoping to prolong Ron's visit.

Ron gave Harry a calculating look from the corner of his eye. "If you're asking me out on a date, you're about a decade too late, mate," he joked, earning another laugh from his friend. "Actually, Hannah's expecting the both of us for dinner."

Harry accepted the invitation, and when he returned much later the same night, he was tired and relaxed enough that for once he was able to go to sleep without lying awake missing Draco.

*

At last, exams were over and the Leaving Feast a distant memory. Harry packed his necessities and fled to Remus' for the summer without once looking back. He wanted to dash across the village to see Draco, but he forced himself to be patient and give Draco the weekend alone with his children.

Harry found it surprisingly easy to settle into living with Remus and Tonks. By the end of the weekend, he had become accustomed to hearing random thumps followed by Tonks swearing and adjusted to seeing the two lovers snuggled up together almost constantly. They seemed to be making up for lost time, a concept which Harry understood quite well.

On Sunday afternoon, Tonks and Remus finally managed to shock him. Emerging from his room after a relaxing morning spent reading, he stumbled into the parlour to find everything half-hidden in an avalanche of feathers. Remus and Tonks were engaged in a massive pillow fight in which they hurled conjured pillows at one another with increasingly aggressive spells. The game appeared to involve a lot of kissing. Harry had never seen Remus act so undignified, and the sight warmed him. He had known that Tonks would be good for Remus. He made a mental note to mention that to them later, and launched himself into the battle.