Fate and a Rose | By : CBeta Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 16782 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
A curly brown haired girl stood on wobbly legs as she held herself up by clutching to a coffee table. Hermione smiled lovingly at her daughter and watched as she attempted to walk over to a black haired baby who was sitting with his back turned to her on the other side of the room, clutching a rattle and slamming in into the floor loudly.
Harry and Draco sat on a couch across from the wobbly little girl, Draco holding a second girl with wisps of straight blonde hair and green eyes. The girl was sleeping serenely, sucking gently on a tiny thumb as she cuddled into her father.
The trial over Harry using more than one unforgivable was over, Harry having won hands down. Harry and Draco had just moved into a nice home similar to the one that Draco had lived in when he was a small boy; it was elegant and tall, with three floors. Harry and Draco shared one wing of the house, and each of their children had one of their own, though most nights they slept with their parents, all cuddled up on one gigantic bed.
Hermione had married a nice muggle doctor and was once again pregnant, this time with a boy. Ron was not married yet, but he was engaged to Pansy Parkinson, weird as it may be.
Harry found it odd that all of his friends were going to get married off while they were so young; he and Draco had decided to wait to have an official wedding ceremony for at least another few years. They wanted their children to be old enough to remember it.
It had not been very hard for Draco to get over his father’s death; he had been conscious when Harry had killed him, and he was actually rather grateful. Of course, Narcissa was a whole different story, but Draco figured that eventually her grief would pass. And in the meantime, she was a great grandmother. She hid her sadness well when she was with the little ones.
Everyone really missed Hogwarts. After Harry’s trial had started, the victory of the Wizarding world had warn off a little bit, and everything had gone back to normal. Of course, the Ministry allowed Hermione, Draco and Harry to finish their seventh year at the school that they loved, but Ron had not. It was still questionable that he would remain on the light side after the events that had occurred. No one wanted Ronald Weasley to be the next Dark Lord.
After they had graduated from Hogwarts, Hermione had started a job as an Auror, and Draco had started in professional Quidditch as a Seeker for the Falmouth Falcons (1). Harry, for the most part, still didn’t have a job, but he was hoping to study medicine some day. He wasn’t quite sure if he wanted to be a doctor for muggles or a healer for wizards yet, so he refrained from making any decisions until he was certain he knew what he wanted.
Harry’s attention was drawn away from the unsteady girl standing at the coffee table when his daughter began wailing in Draco’s arms. Draco stared at the usually quiet little girl bewilderedly; he still hadn’t gotten used to the young girl’s cries.
Harry smiled softly at Draco and took the girl from Draco’s possessive arms, though Draco was quite resistant to give her up.
The young girl continued to wail until she was handed to Harry. Her wails slowly became whimpers as Harry coddled her tightly to himself. She slowly drifted off to sleep, her head on Harry’s shoulder. Her plump baby cheeks were bright pink from the exertion it took to cry, and they were still slightly moist, but Draco leaned in and kissed one anyway.
Then he laid his head in Harry’s lap and stroked his thigh suggestively.
Harry shook his head and smirked at his boyfriend’s antics, but he pushed Draco’s head out of his lap anyway. He stood and stretched languidly before he collected their son in his other arm, though the young boy continued to pound anything and everything near with a rattle that would soon be broken if he didn’t stop, and raced up the stairs with them.
When both children were safely deposited in their own individual cribs, Harry raced back down the stairs, grabbed Draco’s hand and hauled him up the stairs behind him as he ran like a madman towards the bedroom without even excusing them from their guest.
Hermione smirked gently and continued to watch her daughter, who was looking curiously at the spot where the dark haired boy had once been. Never had she more than wanted to know what her sweet little girl was thinking than she did now.
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(1)The falcons wear dark-grey and white robes with a falcon-head emblem across the chest. The Falcons are known for hard play, a reputation consolidated by their world-famous Beaters, Kevin and Karl Broadmoor, who played for the club from 1958 to 1969 and whose antics resulted in no fewer than fourteen suspensions from the Department of Magical Games and Sports. Club motto: “Let us win, but if we cannot win, let us break a few heads.”
Page 34, paperback copy of QUIDDITCH THROUGH THE AGES, by Kennilworthy Whisp. (Copyright 2001 by J.K. Rowling. All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Press.)
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