Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The Little Sandbox	By : Sasunarufan13 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 4678 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter nor do I make profit of it. J.K. Rowling owns it.

Chapter List
- 1-Part 1
- 2-Part 2
- 1
- 2
Author's note: Here I am with the second and last part!
Thanks to the following reviewer: DebraRose
Warnings: two pov's; time skip at the end; fluff; established slash; mentioned MPreg
I hope you'll enjoy this last part!
Part 2
No matter how much she cajoled him, Draco refused to tell her what had made him so upset during their short trip through the park. It frustrated her, because how was she supposed to fix whatever had made him unhappy if she didn't know the cause in the first place?
Draco, however, remained tight lipped about it and in the week that followed he didn't request to go to the park again. As sudden as his interest in the park had sprung up, as sudden did it disappear again it seemed. Whatever had made him upset, it appeared to be the catalyst and he didn't speak of the park again. Instead after he had finished his homework, he would play in his room until it was time for dinner. He was no longer upset, but there was still something he was brooding on. He still refused to talk about whatever was bothering him, though.
He was as stubborn as his father at times and it made her wonder more than once why her son had to inherit that particular brand of stubbornness. She supposed that the tenacity of the Blacks wasn't really any better, but still …
When they entered the second week of July, she was in the library browsing through charm books to find a stronger charm to protect the flowers from the intense heat. There was only so much the elves could accomplish with their magic after all and she was certain she had received a book from her Aunt Lucretia which contained stronger protection charms.
"Mother?"
Draco's meek voice had her halting her search and turning to face him completely. "Yes, Draco?" she asked curiously, wondering whether he needed her help with an assignment. Draco barely needed his parents' help with his homework, but occasionally a question proved to confuse him or he wasn't certain whether he had understood the task correctly.
"Can we go to the park?" he asked, voice smaller than usual as he clasped his hands behind his back. "I finished my homework."
Tilting her head to the right, she studied him quietly. "You're not going to grow upset if we go there?" she inquired after a pause and the boy flushed with embarrassment.
"I'm not," he muttered, a bit petulantly, glancing away.
"If you promise me you'll tell me immediately if something upsets you, then we can go," she acquiesced. She had given up on getting him to talk about whatever was bothering him. He would talk to her when he was ready – he had never been able to keep things a secret from her for that long.
"I promise!" he said hastily; his eyes widening with hope.
She inclined her head. "Then we can go."
His face brightened and he rushed over to her to give her a quick hug around her waist. "Thank you, mother!" he chirped and hurried out of the library; his footsteps echoing through the corridor as he sped towards his bedroom.
Shaking her head, she made her way downstairs at a more sedate pace. Her son's obsession with the park started anew, it seemed.
It was time she really started digging deeper to discover what exactly attracted her son to that place after years of not being interested in it.
She had made the mistake of considering her son too occupied with whatever item he had brought with him to pay any attention to his surroundings. She herself had made the mistake of being too interested in her surroundings, not paying any heed to what her son was doing.
That particular realisation dawned upon her when they visited the park for the third time that week.
After having decided it was time that she discovered what exactly enticed her son to go to the park every day, she had started with considering the contraptions at this place. It was a bit inane to consider those, she admitted, as Draco clearly displayed no interest in playing on those. Yet something had him moving from bench to bench: then they sat near the monkey bars, then in front of the swings, next to the ball pit …
There had to be a reason behind her son's decision of a particular bench that day. She knew from the previous times that there was no particular pattern Draco was upholding when picking out a bench. He wasn't rotating them in a certain pattern, but seemingly chose one at random each afternoon. It had appeared random at first to her, at least, but she quickly came to realise that her son's chosen bench of the day wasn't so random at all.
She still couldn't see the reasoning behind it, though, so she turned to her son himself, hoping his face would give something away, some clue as to why he chose to sit there in particular.
It did.
And she could smack herself for having been so oblivious before.
It wasn't something that attracted her son to the park, but a someone. Draco wasn't all that invested in whatever item he brought with him as he had looked like at first. When she studied him surreptitiously over the days that followed, she took notice of the way his eyes flickered upwards every ten seconds, always looking in the same direction before looking back down at his book or puzzle. He didn't look around in distraction or in idleness – no, his gaze had a specific target.
That specific target was none other than the dark haired boy she had spotted every time they visited the park.
Draco looked up in surprise when Narcissa entered his bedroom on Friday evening. He had just prepared himself for bedtime and was climbing into his bed, tugging the summer blanket over his legs.
"Mother," he smiled, though confusion lingered in the depths of his grey eyes.
She returned his smile and sat down on his bed, turning towards him as she placed her hands in her lap. Not beating around the bush, she questioned lightly, "So who's that dark haired boy you keep looking at when we're at the park, sweetheart?"
Instantly his eyes grew wide and he looked caught before he huffed and crossed his arms, looking away. "I'm not looking at anyone," he insisted stubbornly, but his cheeks were colouring a faint pink.
She grabbed his chin gently and pulled his face towards her. "My dragon, I'm not stupid," she said mildly and he lowered his eyes to his lap, looking a bit chastised. "I notice you keep looking at that boy every time we're there. Do you know him?"
Pouting, he sighed and his shoulders slumped in defeat. He might try to evade her questions for a while, but he also knew when to give up. "He's Harry Potter," he said quietly, fiddling with his fingers. "He's – he's in my group."
She lowered her hand to her lap and exhaled slowly, not letting her surprise show. She had never got quite the good look at his face, but she knew how Harry Potter looked like from the many pictures which appeared in the newspaper every year around the boy's birthday and on Halloween, the night he had vanquished the Dark Lord. Everyone knew about the Potter boy, how when he was still just a baby, barely one year old, had managed to make the most evil wizard since Grindelwald disappear overnight.
The Dark Lord had gone to the Potters' home on that faithful Halloween night to get rid off them all for reasons nobody knew. His plan had turned against him, however, and instead of him doing the killing, he had been murdered, disappearing into nothing. Nobody – except for the Potters and most likely that old coot Dumbledore – knew exactly what had occurred during that particular night. The Potters remained tight lipped about it, refusing to talk about what had happened and how their son had managed to vanquish the dark wizard. They had become celebrities overnight and the only evidence they had ever been attacked was in the form of their destroyed house and a scar in the shape of lighting bolt on their son's forehead.
After the attack they had moved away, keeping their new address a secret, and so far no reporter had managed to discover their new home. The pictures which surfaced every year of Harry were usually taken in Diagon Alley when he was there with his parents to celebrate his birthday for a few hours.
She had never expected Harry Potter to be in her son's class. Or to live close by.
"I didn't know he followed lessons with you," she said calmly.
He shrugged half-heartedly. "We're not supposed to talk about it. Nobody can know because then the newspapers would be there every day," he explained, still not completely looking her straight in her eyes.
"That's understandable," she murmured. She wouldn't like being hounded by the media day after day either. "Have you talked with him?"
"I – I tried, but I – I messed up, mother," he admitted in a small voice, looking quite upset.
"What did you do, Draco?" Her son could come across quite forcefully at times; it was something she and Lucius were still working on to prevent him from offending the wrong person.
"I just – we were talking and he was nice and he was smiling and then he mentioned meeting one of the Weasleys and I told him he shouldn't talk to them, because they're not as good as some other families like ours. He got angry at me and now he doesn't want to talk to me anymore," he answered, everything coming out in a rush and at the end he sniffled, rubbing over his eyes, which were wet with the sheen of tears.
"Oh, Draco," she sighed, shaking her head lightly, and her son flinched, his lower lip trembling.
This was why she didn't like it when Lucius talked about other families when Draco was around. Children were impressionable; Draco certainly was, hard as he tried to impress his father. Of course he would pick up how his father sneered when the Weasley family was mentioned and would imitate that distaste even when he didn't know why Lucius disliked that family.
To be honest she was a bit fuzzy on the details of the centuries old feud as well. Sometimes she wondered whether Lucius himself knew why exactly his ancestors had started the fight.
"That was not smart of you to say, sweetheart," she admonished him gently. She would have scolded him more firmly if he wasn't already looking like he would burst out in tears any second now. Whatever had made him utter that remark before, he clearly regretted it now.
"I didn't mean to make him angry," Draco said miserably, fidgeting so much with his blanket, it looked like he was strangling the poor cloth.
"I know, Draco. Did you apologise?"
"I want to, but he doesn't want to listen to me, mother," he replied and if possible, he sounded even sadder, bringing his hand up to rub over his eyes. "He always looks away when I want to talk to him."
"Is that why you want to go to the park? Because he's there too?"
The boy shrugged, looking down at his blanket. "I like him, he's got pretty eyes," he admitted shyly. "They look like those green stones you wear at parties, mother."
What is it with Malfoys and comparing eyes to gemstones?, she thought amused, recalling how Lucius often compared her eyes to sapphires. Like father, like son it seemed.
"How did you know he goes to the park every day, Draco?" she asked curiously, figuring she could continue the questions now that it seemed like her son was willing to talk about his classmate.
He blushed faintly. "I heard him talking about it to one of the girls in our group," he muttered.
And because he wasn't able to talk to the boy, he decided to watch him from a distance. She wasn't entirely sure what to think of that and if she had to be honest she didn't want to spend day in day out at the park either all because Draco didn't dare to approach Harry anymore. That would have to change.
"What made you upset that time? You didn't want to go to the park for a week," she remarked, determined to get everything in the open now. She wanted to help her son, but if he had had another fight with the Potter boy, it would become more difficult to reconcile them.
Draco scowled, clenching the blanket in his hands. "Harry was sick," he mumbled. "He wasn't in class for the whole week!"
Narcissa released an inaudible sigh of relief. Well, she could work with that. If the boys had only had one argument, then making amends shouldn't be too difficult. She had accomplished harder things than that.
"Do you want to be his friend, Draco?" she inquired calmly, caressing his blond hair back.
His eyes widened, catching the setting sunlight and making them gleam like silver. "I want to be his best friend, mother! But he doesn't want to talk to me," he added crestfallen, his shoulders slumping in defeat.
"How about this: tomorrow we will go up to Harry and you're going to apologise properly for what you said to him about the Weasleys," she suggested, gently unfurling his fists out of the blanket.
"But they're not better than us," he argued, frowning heavily.
She raised an eyebrow. "None of that talk, Draco. Who Harry likes is up to him, you understand? If you want to be his friend, you're going to have to say sorry and mean it."
He gazed at her, a storm brewing in his eyes, as he considered her words and he pouted, but nodded slowly. "Okay, I'll apologise," he said softly. "But what if he doesn't want to listen to me?"
"He'll listen," she reassured him. "You'll see." She bent down and brushed a kiss against his forehead, pushing him gently down until he was lying flat. "And after you've become friends, you'll just have to show him you're a better friend than anyone else, hm?"
She smiled when he lit up, a big smile splitting his face apart as he snuggled deeper underneath the blanket, curling his fingers around the edge of it. "I'll show him!" he swore, determination flashing up in his eyes.
"I know you will, love," she murmured and rose up, walking to the door and flicking her wand at the curtains to draw them shut. "Good night, dragon."
"Good night, mother."
She closed the door gently behind her, but not before having conjured a small, softly glowing ball in the room, so that Draco wouldn't have to go to sleep in complete darkness. He wasn't quite ready yet to say goodbye to that small light.
Straightening her back, she set way to the bedroom she shared with her husband. A conversation with regards to his commentary about certain families was in order.
This time Harry was at the park with the black haired man and the red haired woman – his parents. It should have been obvious earlier who they were exactly, Narcissa mused dismayed as she made her way to them with her son in tow. She hadn't encountered that particular shade of red on any other witch so far.
Nor did anyone else, aside from her son, share that particular deep shade of green which greeted her curiously when she halted in front of them. They were at the sandbox; the sand this time being a light shade of red.
"Can I help you?" Lily Potter asked curiously; her gaze flickering briefly towards Draco, who was hovering shyly behind Narcissa as she stood up. She was wearing a large hat against the piercing sun and she adjusted it absentmindedly; her long, red hair fluttering in the light breeze.
At the sound of her voice, her husband looked up from the castle he was building with his son. His glasses glinted in the sunlight as he studied Narcissa carefully. "Mrs. Malfoy, right?" James Potter questioned, rising up from his spot. He brushed some sand off his legs before offering his hand. "Good afternoon."
He must have recognised her from a Ministry ball. She inclined her head and accepted his hand before shaking that of his wife. "Good afternoon, Mister and Mrs. Potter," she smiled, placing her hand on Draco's shoulder and pushing him forwards softly. "I'm sorry to interrupt your afternoon, but I'm here on the behalf of my son, Draco, who wants to say something to your son."
"Harry," Lily remarked, brushing her hand over her son's unruly dark hair.
Harry looked up, curiosity flitting across his face before his eyes landed on Draco and wariness instantly filled those green eyes. Slowly, looking almost reluctant to do it, he stood up, but remained standing between his parents. "What do you want, Draco?" he questioned, a hint of suspicion colouring his voice.
Next to her, Narcissa felt Draco tensing up and at the same time vibrating with nerves. Still, despite how nervous he must be right now, he took a couple of steps closer to Harry and clasped his hands behind his back. After taking a deep breath, he blurted out, "I'm sorry that I was being mean about the Weasleys! I shouldn't have said those things and I'm sorry for making you angry!"
Harry pursed his lips, narrowing his eyes slightly. "You were really mean," he remarked and Draco flinched, his eyes cast down to the ground as his cheeks coloured a faint red. "The Weasleys are really nice, you know."
Draco didn't say anything and Narcissa held back a sigh. Well, perhaps it was better if he didn't say anything to that particular comment; he might be genuinely sorry about upsetting Harry, but he wasn't sorry about the things he had said about the Weasleys, she knew that. It didn't matter what he thought of them, though, as long as he learnt to hold his tongue around Harry.
It wasn't as if she genuinely liked everyone she and Lucius interacted with after all. The trick was to make it seem like you did; that made it much easier to get things done from other people.
"Why were you so mean to them?" Harry demanded, his eyes sparking and deepening in colour.
"Because I – because I want to be your friend and you seem to like them more," Draco answered petulantly, flushing even harder at that admission.
Narcissa thought she could hear Lily softly cooing and when she glanced at her, the other woman had clasped her hands together and was smiling faintly while James was a mixture of wary amusement.
Harry cocked his head to the right. "You want to be my friend?" he asked stumped.
Draco nodded rapidly. "I really, really want to be your friend," he replied earnestly, looking up shyly at the other boy. "I'm sorry I made you upset."
"I can like more than one person, you know," Harry huffed, placing his hands on his hips. "If you promise not to be mean to others anymore, then we can be friends," he declared suddenly.
Draco looked taken aback for a moment before his face brightened. "Really?" he asked awed, taking another step closer.
Harry nodded and smiled. "Yeah, really. But you have to promise not to be mean anymore, okay?" he added and Narcissa had to stifle her amusement at how stern he sounded.
"But what if someone is being mean to you?" Draco questioned pensively. "Can I be mean to them then?"
Green eyes blinked and a contemplative look flashed across the boy's face. "Well, I suppose that's okay then," he said slowly, nodding. "Uncle Sirius says you have to fight fire with fire and if someone's mean, you have to get back at them! So I guess it's okay if you say mean things to other mean people."
"James, what on earth is your friend teaching my son?" Lily hissed, looking thoroughly annoyed.
Smiling sheepishly, James rubbed the back of his neck. "Life lessons?" he offered weakly and Lily closed her eyes for a moment, looking like she was calling the gods to give her the strength to deal with this.
Narcissa could sympathise with her – Merlin knew Lucius could drive her up the wall sometimes with some of the stupid decisions he was wont to make at times. Perhaps it was something all men were afflicted with and the women were left to suffer in the wake of that.
"So we can be friends?" Draco asked uncertainly, hopefully, looking like he would shatter apart if Harry gave so much as an inkling of a negative reaction.
"Yes, Draco, we can be friends," Harry grinned and waved him closer. "You want to build a castle with me?"
Wide, grey eyes looked up at Narcissa with hope practically spilling out of them. "Can I, mother?"
"Yes, you can," she smiled, looking up at the couple in front of her. "I'm just going to talk to Harry's parents. Have fun, sweetheart."
If Draco was to become best friends with Harry, it only made sense if she got better acquainted with the Potters. They were going to interact a lot starting from now on after all.
In fact, why not start with offering them a place to celebrate Harry's upcoming birthday in peace, without the meddling of the media? No doubt they would definitely appreciate that after years of being hounded by the press.
With a secret smile, she followed James and Lily to the nearest bench.
Leaving her son behind in the sandbox together with his new friend.
Sixteen years later
"Merlin, it's been a long time since I was last here," Harry laughed delighted as they walked through the gates and onto the long, winding path, which after years of not having tread upon it was still very familiar to both men.
Draco smirked, curling his arm around Harry's waist. "I figured this would be a good place to take Teddy out for the afternoon."
The four year old boy in question – adopted by Lupin and Black four years ago after Black had stumbled upon the abandoned baby during one of his Auror cases – was swivelling his head back and forth, taking in the sight of the park with a vivid curiosity. At the moment he was sporting black hair and light grey eyes; they had discovered quite early on that he was a Metamorphmagus – a fact which might or might not have attributed to his biological parents abandoning him. Morgana knew how the minds of those wretched people had been working when they had discarded their own child like a broken toy.
"It's nice to be back here," Harry smiled, swinging the hand that was holding on to Teddy's back and forth gently.
"Why don't we go to the sandbox? For old time's sake," Draco suggested with a wink.
His lover of five years snorted. "Why not? Maybe Teddy will match his hair with that of the sand," he commented amused and they made their way to the sandbox in question, ignoring the furtive glances they got from other families.
Harry was still as famous as ever. His fame might have abated somewhat if Voldemort hadn't returned when they had been barely fourteen years old. Draco could still vividly recall the terror he had felt when Harry had crumpled down in front of the maze, Diggory's dead body cradled in one arm and the Cup – the one that had signified his victory as the Champion of the Triwizard Tournament – clutched in his other's.
What followed had been three tense years of constantly being on guard, of looking behind their backs just in case someone was waiting to attack, of seeing their parents get attacked and panicking about their safety, of becoming suspicious of people they had been friends with for years before, wondering whether they had turned traitor or not.
Then, two months before Harry would turn eighteen years old, he had defeated Voldemort for good, a second victory over the dark creature who had terrorised the world for years on end.
Their families had come relatively unscathed out of the war, with no losses, but with an increased fame for the Potters – and in lesser amount for the Malfoys. It was annoying at times, having to deal with people clamouring for Harry's attention, having their dates interrupted because they desperately wanted an autograph and to thank Harry over and over again for saving the Wizarding World. It was a small price to pay for being safe and happy, though.
Draco halted at the border of the sandbox, watching how Harry stepped onto the sand with Teddy following him eagerly. There was no one else in the sandbox today; the park itself was relatively empty. The weather was quite mild and it was still quite early in the afternoon. In all likelihood the park would fill up in a couple of hours, but for now nobody else was around.
Teddy was squatting down with a concentrated look on his face, picking up fistfuls of the bright green sand before letting it stream down from between his fingers. He appeared particularly fascinated with the sand as he kept picking it up and dropping it over and over again. Harry was watching him with a fond smile, his hand slowly rubbing over the gentle swell of his stomach.
Draco swallowed and his hand dipped down to his pocket, wherein a flat, small, square box was stored. An explosion in the Department of Potions and Elixirs five months ago had had Harry unknowingly inhaling the Fertilitates Potion – the brew which allowed men to carry and bear a child. Two months after the explosion incident they had discovered Harry was pregnant; there had not been a single doubt in their minds that they were going to keep the child.
Unexpected as it was, the baby was still theirs, had been conceived out of love and they couldn't imagine getting rid of him or her. Their families had been ecstatic when they had been informed about the baby and Draco was pretty sure his mother was planning an elaborate baby shower with the help of Lily.
As he looked at the dark haired man in front of him, he was once again overwhelmed by the amount of love he felt for him. It filled him to the brim and at times it felt like his body would just explode into teeny tiny pieces, unable to deal with the sheer magnitude of love he harboured for Harry. They had been best friends since they were eight, had become more when they had been nineteen.
And it had all started right here. In this little sandbox. Here it had all began for real.
Slipping the box out of his pocket he slowly crossed the distance between him and Harry. The younger man looked up with a curious smile, and his eyes soft with love.
This time the question he asked Harry in the sandbox, in their place, was slightly different, a bit altered, but the nerves that raced through his body were the same – maybe even a tad worse.
Harry's answer, however – his answer, that was still the same as the first time. The same reply he had given when a little blond boy had scraped together his courage and asked the boy with the shining, green eyes – green like the gem emerald – whether he wanted to be his friend.
Different question now, but still the same answer.
Yes, Draco.
The End
AN2: Ah, the fluff … So weird to write after all the angst and drama I've been writing for other stories LMAO
I hope you enjoyed this last part! Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me!
I hope to see you all back in my future stories!
Cuddles
Melissa
- 1
- 2
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

The Little Sandbox