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Expecting the Unexpected	By : Phoenixstrike Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 21915 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all its indicia are © JK Rowling, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books, Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. I own none of the copyright, and this fanfiction makes no money.

Chapter List
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Chapter Thirteen: The Memorial

Draco joined Andromeda and Harry downstairs in the kitchen around seven, and Teddy woke up soon after that. Andromeda made toast that no one except Teddy ate (“More!”) and then the adults all dressed in their sombre black dress robes, left the cottage, and poured in to the waiting Thestral carriage that Harry had arranged with McGonagall the previous day, eating a huge slice of humble pie in the process. Harry’s heart had thumped uncomfortably when he saw Andromeda stroking the Thestral before they got in. The unease must have shown on his face, however, for she said gently, “Don’t worry, Harry. It was my mother-in-law, twenty years ago, and she had terminal cancer. I was with her when she died.” Teddy was the only one in the carriage who could not see the skeletal black horse pulling the carriage, Harry realised, and he vowed to do everything in his power to make sure it stayed that way.

Hogwarts’ grounds were already filled with people by the time they arrived. Harry spotted Kingsley chatting with some of the surviving members of the Order of the Phoenix, looking authoritative and grave. He’d done a brilliant job in his first year as Minister, rebuilding the wizarding world and restoring the rights of the Muggle-born. He saw Harry arrive and nodded to him in greeting. Harry was incredibly thankful that Kingsley had accepted his request to not have to make a speech. People stared enough at him these days. He didn’t need the added attention.

“I’m still not entirely sure I’m exactly welcome here,” Draco said. He nervously fidgeted with the material covering his Mark, in response to the glares he was receiving.

“I’ve made it clear numerous times that you and your mother both saved my life and defected from Voldemort,” Harry replied. “It’s not like I invited Fenrir Greyback along. Besides, you’re my boyfriend and we come as a pair now. If they want me to stay then no one will say anything to you. They’ll have to lump it.”

At exactly ten, the entire Weasley family, including Ron and Ginny, arrived. They all looked incredibly pale. Andromeda spotted Mrs Weasley and immediately made her way over to her. The two women began crying when they saw each other and embraced, united in a mother’s grief at the loss of a child. Harry swallowed hard and turned away from them. Today was going to be challenging.

“Morning, Harry, Malfoy, Teddy,” Hermione said solemnly, approaching him and Draco, who had Teddy balanced on his hip, chewing on the ear of the toy dragon Harry had bought him for Christmas. “We’ve just been to visit Fred’s grave.” She dropped her voice so only Harry could hear. This close Harry could see dried tear tracks on her face. “Oh, Harry, it was horrible. Molly began to sob, and George- it was like the light had gone out again. He just stood there and stared at the headstone- he didn’t cry or anything. I don’t think he slept at all last night.”

Just then Ron and Ginny came over. They looked drained.

“Distract me,” Ron said. “Please, tell me about your cottage, or whatever. Anything that will take my mind off today.” Harry opened his mouth to say something, anything, but, unfortunately, Draco beat him to it.

“Well, Weasley, Harry finally let me do him up the arse,” he said. Then his lips curled into a smirk. “That thought ought to distract you for a while.”

Harry froze in total horror due to what Draco had just announced. Hermione’s eyebrows disappeared into her hairline and she turned scarlet, Ron buried his head in his hands, and murmured, “When I said distract me, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind. I could have happily lived the rest of my life never hearing that,” but Ginny threw her head back and roared with laughter.

“Thank you, Malfoy, that really did cheer me up,” Ginny spluttered, wiping tears from her eyes as she continued to chuckle.

“You did not just say that,” Harry groaned, mortification flooding him. “I can’t bloody believe you sometimes.”

“It worked, didn’t it?” Draco replied, looking completely smug. And Harry had to admit that was perfectly true. Ron didn’t look upset anymore. However he did look slightly nauseated, which Harry didn’t think was much of an improvement.

Harry looked over the grounds and saw people were beginning to take their seats. He spotted Dennis Creevey sat with two people who were obviously Muggles, and must be his parents. Harry wondered how they got here, given the Muggle-Repelling Charms on the castle, but decided McGonagall would have had to alter the wards in some way for today. Colin was certainly not the only Muggle-born to have lost their life, one year ago today.

Draco set Teddy onto the ground, and he and Harry held a hand each (the dragon in Draco’s robe pocket) and the group made their way slowly to their seats, Ron muttering to Hermione in a low voice, although Harry picked out the words ‘Harry’, ‘ferret’, and ‘arse’. They took their seats next to the Weasleys and Andromeda in the front row.

A hush fell over the crowd at Kingsley made his way onto a makeshift platform and cast Sonorus upon himself.

“Welcome, Ladies and Gentlemen, to Hogwarts, on this most special and sombre of occasions,” he began. “Exactly one year ago today, our world was finally rid of the most critical threat it had ever faced. A tyrant was destroyed, and this time, for good. Evil was defeated at the hands of one Harry Potter. Harry, every witch and wizard here owes their freedom to you. On behalf of the magical community of the United Kingdom, I extend my sincere gratitude.”

There was an outbreak of enthusiastic applause then- the clapping from his friends and family was almost deafening, and Harry knew he was blushing furiously; his cheeks felt extremely warm to his touch. He sank lower, in a vain attempt to make himself less conspicuous. Clearly not an attainable feat given the size of his stomach, and the fact he could almost feel hundreds of pairs of eyes boring a hole in the back of his head.

“But,” Kingsley continued, and a grave hush fell over the crowd once more, “Harry would be the first amongst us to point out that he didn’t accomplish this astounding achievement alone. Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley both played vital roles in the downfall of You-Know-Who, and they both deserve just as much of our gratitude as Harry does. Both showed themselves to be true Gryffindors, and utterly loyal friends to Harry when it really mattered.” Harry clapped enthusiastically, and was heartened to see that even Draco managed some polite applause. Both his friends beamed with pride, rosy- cheeked and eyes sparkling.

“We do, however, also have many, many others to thank. And many of you are sitting in the audience here today,” Kingsley said. “To anyone who fought in the Battle, I commend you for demonstrating outstanding courage. You all played your part in defeating the foulest Dark Lord who has walked the earth, perhaps ever. Everyone here had their role to play. You-Know-Who tried to destroy us. Instead, with his own destruction, he bonded us in a way that is unbreakable. United we stand. And it is for this reason that I am beyond proud to serve you all as the Minister for Magic.”

Kingsley paused then, and the smile that was on his face slipped off.

“There are, however, over fifty other brave souls who demonstrated bravery beyond anything that could have ever been expected of them, and are not with us today. Over fifty witches and wizards who gave their lives fighting for what they believed in. We all lost friends and family on the second of May, 1998. And every single one of them died an absolute hero.”

He waved his wand and conjured a list of all the names of the dead. The list was long, as if to visually remind each and every one of them exactly how many had fallen, one year ago. Kingsley began to read from the list of names, pausing for a few seconds after each one. The audience was silent, save the sound of grieving relatives weeping softly when their family member’s name was called. Most of the names Harry didn’t recognise, but that didn’t stop him feeling gratitude beyond anything he’d ever felt before for each and every one of them. He tried to keep his emotions in check, but lost the battle and let the tears fall as soon as Kingsley read out Remus’ name.

Snape’s and Tonks’ names followed in succession, and by the time they got to the final name on the list- Fred’s- there was barely a dry eye anywhere in the audience. Even Draco had a tear track running down his left cheek. Kingsley himself was crying softly as he read, and Harry thought back to the reigns of Fudge and Scrimgeour. He was positive that neither of them would have shown such a public display of honest, raw emotion.

“We do not just mourn today, however,” Kingsley said, taking a deep breath to calm himself. “We celebrate a truly remarkable victory. And we prove to those we lost that they did not die in vain. We will go on, and we will live, and we will get stronger, and stronger. And so both in memoriam and as thanks to those who died, I ask you all to raise your wands and send sparks of a colour of your choice into the air.”

As one, the witches and wizards all drew their wands, and there was a low muttering of various incantations as sparks of all colours shot into the sky. Harry looked at the Weasleys- they had all chosen, unsurprisingly, red. It represented both Gryffindor and Fred’s favourite colour. Hermione chose gold- a representation, Harry was sure, for Remus Lupin, as she chose the colour of a phoenix, as well as also representing Gryffindor- linking to Lupin’s former house. Andromeda shot shocking pink sparks, clearly signifying Tonks, from hers. It took Harry just a tiny moment longer to decide on his. Emerald sparks erupted from his length of holly, joined a fraction of a second later with the silver of Draco’s, intertwining with the green.

“Thank you, Severus,” Harry whispered tearfully, as Teddy, who was still on Draco’s lap, laughed and tried to grab the sparks. He wondered what the Muggles would think, should an aeroplane be flying over Hogwarts grounds at that moment, then decided he really didn’t care.

Thankfully, the speeches had been kept to a minimum. After Kingsley had spoken, Professor McGonagall had thanked everyone who had worked over the summer on the restoration of Hogwarts. Following that there was a speech devoted to Snape, detailing how he had exactly foiled Voldemort and his crucial role in victory. Its climax came when McGonagall unveiled a new portrait of the hooked-nosed former Potions master that was to be hung next to Dumbledore’s in the Headmistress’ office.

“Let us not forget that today is a day of exultation as well,” advised Kingsley. Today heralds the anniversary of a wonderful victory. Therefore please do try and enjoy the rest of the memorial service, and remember what the Battle of Hogwarts gave to our community. It gave us all a reason to rejoice. Thank you.”

He performed the Quietus counter-spell on his throat and stepped off the platform to tumultuous applause.

Harry spent the best part of the next hour with Ron and Hermione, fake grin firmly fixed in place and inwardly wishing he could just sit in a chair and eat a sandwich, being thanked by strangers, whilst the few invited members of the press took photographs and set Quick-Quotes Quills to work. He had a vindictive moment when he wondered in his head how many of the people ringing his hand and thanking him profusely right now, and who had clapped and cheered when Kingsley talking about unity had sent him angry letters or even a Howler just a few weeks ago, but forced it from his mind. Everyone here was here because they had played their role (or was a relative of someone who had) in bringing down Voldemort. He found it hard to believe that any one of the people crying quietly whilst stammering their gratitude would have called him ‘wicked’ or damn him to Hell, simply for allowing himself some personal happiness for once in his life.

When his stomach forcibly reminded him that he was late for lunch and he also hadn’t eaten breakfast, and this was a terrible idea when heavily pregnant, he politely but firmly made his excuses and escaped with Draco and his friends to a quiet area of the lake and tucked into the plate of food Hermione had made up for him. He felt better with a good meal inside him, and stared out over the lake, which was rippling slightly in the cool spring breeze, and tried to ignore the embarrassment he felt at having to sit in a Transfigured chair, deciding that if he sat on the grass with the others, he wasn’t going to be able to get back up. He looked over and saw Augusta Longbottom in the distance. He couldn’t hear what the old woman was saying, but could clearly see her enthusiastically miming what very much appeared to be a sword drawn from a hat and beheading a snake to two unknown elderly witches. He chuckled lightly to himself. The woman was finally proud of Neville, and it had only taken the destruction of a Horcrux to achieve it.

“What’s it like, Harry?” Ron said in a low voice, once Hermione and Draco were deep in conversation about some Potions theory, and drawing Harry’s attention away from the amusing charade. Harry only had to look at his face to know what he meant.

“Thought you didn’t want to know anything about it?” he countered, taking another bite of a ham sandwich. “Weren’t you the one who begged me to not even snog Draco in front of you?”

“I don’t want you two to shag in front of me,” Ron said, “I’m just curious. Does it hurt? Or feel like, you know, you’re on the loo or something?”

“Not really, and certainly not,” Harry replied. He was getting fed up of this conversation. And he was more than a little fed up with Draco for mentioning anything at all. As far as he was concerned, what he and Draco did in bed was no one’s business except theirs. He’d never once asked Ron about his and Hermione’s sex life. “And that’s all I’m saying.” Ron opened his mouth to utter something else, and Harry felt his fragile patience snap.

“If you’re so desperate to know what it feels like, Ron, just ask Hermione to peg you,” he said, sharper than he’d intended, and apparently louder too, from the look of horror Hermione shot him and the tirade of laughter Draco dissolved into.

The afternoon session involved the unveiling of a monument a short distance from Dumbledore’s tomb, engraved with the names of all those who had lost their lives in the fight against Voldemort, not just in the Battle of Hogwarts. Harry found the names of his parents, Sirius, Dumbledore, Mad-Eye, and even Cedric, each one sent a thrill of sadness through him.

The day concluded with a brilliant display of daylight-compatible Weasleys' Wildfire Whiz-bangs, courtesy of George, the climax of which was a spectacular minute-long finale, with the final fireworks spelling out ‘Mouldy Voldy’ in huge green lettering. Everybody laughed, except Teddy, who had begun to cry and reached for Andromeda when the fireworks exploded.

“We’ll all see you very soon, dear,” Molly Weasley said as the memorial finally came to a close and people began to leave. Harry noticed the woman looked absolutely exhausted. He gave her a quick hug.

“You’ll have to come and see the baby as soon as she’s born,” he said. “After all, the grandmother should be one of the first to hold her grandchild.”

As Harry had expected, his words had Molly in more tears, but he knew they were happy ones this time. He was engulfed once more in a hug.

“Thank you, Harry,” she whispered. Harry said a quick goodbye to the rest of the Weasleys, including a very pregnant Fleur (“You are lucky you are ‘aving a caesarean, ‘Arry, I am already scared of ze labour!”) and Charlie’s Romanian boyfriend Rasvan, and they left the grounds.

It was, however, another hour before Harry managed to get away. Members of the Order, his school friends, and Kingsley himself all wanted to speak to him, until Hermione loudly and pointedly said, “You must be shattered, Harry; I’m sure you must be desperate to get home and have a lie-down?” resulting in everyone uttering their apologies and goodbyes. Harry could have kissed her, and he’d never seen Draco look so grateful to her either.

He left Andromeda with McGonagall (the former was dining with the Headmistress that evening) and set off across the grounds to the Thestral-drawn carriages with Draco, Ron and Hermione. He sat down heavily on his seat and let his head fall on Draco’s shoulder. The constant tiredness was what Harry found the hardest to deal with in the pregnancy- he was used to being full of energy.

“I’m not going next year,” he said, knowing the words were empty in their threat. He closed his eyes. “All I want to do now is eat, have a bath, and sleep.”

“Are you sure you want us to come for dinner, Harry?” Ron asked. “We can go back up to the castle if you’d rather.”

“No. I want to spend some time with you both,” Harry replied dozily. “I’m just going to close my eyes for a minute, that’s all.” He hadn’t realised he’d nodded off until Draco was gently shaking him, telling him they were home and it was time to wake up.

He stepped out of the carriage behind Draco, and it was a second or two before he realised Draco had frozen. He followed Draco’s shocked stare to the small table in the garden, where he and Draco had eaten lunch just a couple of days before, and felt his blood run cold.

Lucius Malfoy was sat at the table.

*

“Father,” Draco said coldly. “What are you doing here?”

“I decided today would be a good time to speak with you,” Lucius said. “I was under the impression that you would not have been welcome at the festivities today, and would therefore be home alone when I called. Obviously I was mistaken. Your illicit affair with Potter has shoehorned you in, in all directions, hasn’t it?” The bitterness in Lucius’ voice was poorly disguised. He glared at his son, just as Hermione and Ron emerged from the carriage. “And you’re associating yourself with a blood traitor and a Mudblood too now, I see? I’m extremely disappointed in you, Draco.”

“We are blood traitors too, Father,” Draco snapped. “I think defecting from the Dark Lord and indirectly playing a part in his downfall qualifies us as that. And it is only due to that fact that we’re not rotting in Azkaban. Sorry to break that to you. So why don’t you just say what you came here to say then leave us to enjoy our evening in peace.”

“I want to offer you one final chance to reclaim your inheritance,” Lucius said. “I’m seeing my solicitor in the morning and I am going to make it all legal. After tomorrow you will be unable to claim a Knut of the Malfoy vaults, and the wards will be adjusted to refuse you entry to Malfoy Manor.”

“Then I suggest that’s what you do, if you feel this strongly about it,” Draco said. He reached out and very deliberately put an arm around Harry’s shoulders. Harry noticed that Lucius’ eyes narrows in extreme distaste. “Harry and the baby mean more to me than any amount of money ever could. You really thought I’d abandon my own child for a Manor that housed the Dark Lord for months, and a bunch of Galleons that I don’t need? This child is your flesh and blood. And you’re treating him like a parasite. I don’t want anything from you.”

“May I come in, and we can discuss this properly, rather than standing in your garden and arguing like common Muggles?” said Lucius. Draco shook his head. Harry noticed that Draco had his hand on his wand. He had done the same to his, and a quick glance at his best friends showed they both had, too.

“We’ve been over and over this, Father.” Draco said. “We have nothing else to discuss. I don’t want your money, and you won’t accept my orientation or my child. You’re upsetting Mother with your behaviour. I will not allow you to blackmail and manipulate me. Good day, Father.”

“If that is genuinely how you feel, Draco, then so be it,” Lucius sighed. He glared at Harry. “I sincerely hope you’re proud of yourself, Potter.” He stood from the table and began to walk down the path, pausing as he reached Harry and Draco.

“There really is nothing left to say, is there?” he said, in a voice full of resignation that Harry didn’t trust one little bit. “Except for one thing. Praetrunco Placentam!”

“Stupefy!” yelled Draco, Ron and Hermione together, the second Lucius had begun to cast, but they were too late; even as Lucius crumpled to the ground as the force of three Stunners knocked him unconscious, his unknown curse slammed into Harry, who had been standing at far too close a range to do anything about it.

At first he thought that whatever Lucius had cast had done nothing; he certainly didn’t feel different. But all of a sudden a searing, gut-wrenching agony flooded through him, radiating from his stomach. He screamed- something Harry had barely even done under the Cruciatus Curse. He then became aware of a frantic, distressed kicking in his belly, as if the baby was thrashing.

“Draco,” he rasped, as his own consciousness began to ebb. “I’m sorry. I didn’t keep her safe.”

The last thing he heard was Draco’s own screams of anguish and Hermione and Ron’s terrified shouts, and then his world went black.
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Expecting the Unexpected