Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

There's a Pure-Blood Custom For That	By : Lomonaaeren Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 41050 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I am making no money from this story.

Chapter List
- 25
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Thank you again for all the reviews!
A Revealing Moment
            Harry stretched, and grunted a little when his arm hit something. He supposed that was one disadvantage of sharing a bed that he didn’t often hear remarked upon.
            When he turned his head and met Draco’s heated gaze, though, he supposed that he could come to think of it as an advantage instead.
            “Good morning,” Draco said, and leaned over to kiss him. The kiss became hotter so quickly that Harry didn’t know where to put his hands for a second. He wanted, at one and the same time, to cradle Draco’s face and to reach out and stroke down his spine. He wanted to tease him and be teased himself.
            Before he could properly decide on what to do, a thump and shriek echoed down the corridor. Harry rolled away from Draco, twisting around without consciously knowing what he was doing. Then his wand was in his hand, and he wasn’t sure where it had come from, either. If he was in his own bed, it would have come from the side table.
            “Harry?”
            Draco whispered from beneath him, staring up. Harry realized he had turned so that he was crouching above Draco, still naked, caging Draco between his arms and legs. He shook his head and rose to his feet. It took a moment, but he still remembered the Auror training that let him ignore the fact he was naked.
            “Stay here,” he said, and Draco, who’d been starting to rise from the bed, froze. Harry couldn’t stick around to see if he got obeyed or not. He ran to the door, ripped it open, and sprinted down the corridor.
            The shriek repeated, but this time, Harry thought he recognized it as the noise of a certain child. He relaxed a little and took the time to add a glamour of clothes to his body, but he also cast a specifically modified Shield Charm on the end of his wand that bobbed like a soap bubble, ready to expand if he had to do that.
            “Scorpius?” Harry called.
            Scorpius sniffled, and then his tear-stained face emerged from around his bedroom door. His face was tragic.
            Harry relaxed and jogged over to him, managing to ignore how much he was bouncing underneath the glamour. He had more important things to worry about right now. “What happened? Are you okay?”
            “Yes,” said Scorpius, drawing out the word in a way that showed that particular conclusion could change at any moment. “But Golden…” He reached behind his back and brought out a small collection of pieces that he showed Harry. “He broke again. I don’t know if you can put him back.”
            Harry examined the golden wings and battered beak and body for a second, then regretfully shook his head. “I’m not the one who came up with the birds and the enchantment that made them fly. My partner George has to do that. Unless you want another bird?” That would be safer. He didn’t think George would have any problem sending him a spare toy bird by post, whatever his problems with the Malfoys in general.
            Scorpius snatched the pieces back and cradled them against his chest. “They wouldn’t be Golden,” he said, and gave Harry a look of utter betrayal.
            Harry sighed and crouched down in front of Scorpius, pushing his hair back from his face. “All right. Then we’ll go to George’s shop and get him repaired.”
            “We will?”
            Harry turned his head. Draco had come out of his bedroom, a loose white robe wrapped around his waist. For a moment, Harry regretted that it wasn’t transparent, and then reminded himself where they were and whose kid they were in front of, and subjected his own brain to a severe scolding.
            “Yes,” said Harry. “I really can’t do this, and I would probably only hurt Golden more if I tried.” Scorpius turned further away, peering at Harry over his shoulder like a nervous parent. Harry firmly bit his lip so he wouldn’t laugh, and added, “Unless Scorpius is willing to wait a few days.”
            “You said,” said Scorpius, and his lip wobbled.
            Draco looked at his son, and his face softened. But Harry could see a struggle beneath the surface, and waited patiently. He didn’t think Draco had succumbed completely yet.
            Sure enough, Draco looked at him and asked, “And he and I couldn’t go?”
            “I don’t know if George would even let you in if you went by yourselves,” Harry pointed out dryly. “And if someone attacked you, then you would be—”
            “I am not defenseless,” said Draco, and his hand fell to his own wand, looped in the sleeve of his robe.
            “I know that,” said Harry, hoping he sounded soothing instead of skeptical. From the look Draco gave him, it hadn’t worked. Harry sighed and backtracked. “But you can’t protect yourself from enemies like this as well as someone with Auror training could.”
            Draco folded his arms, and in a second, Harry saw where Scorpius’s stubborn expression had come from. “You were the one who kept touting Weasley’s Auror training, and insisting that you didn’t have enough of your own to make much of a difference.”
            Harry held back the roll of his eyes that he instinctively wanted to give. It wouldn’t have helped with Ron or Hermione, and it definitely wouldn’t help with proud, touchy Malfoys. “Fine. I mean that I have some, as you saw just now.” After what was clearly an unwilling moment, Draco nodded, conceding the point. “And that’s better than none. These are dangerous enemies. They want to—”
            “Target you. We would be safer if we went alone.”
            “They want to target me, but they want to hurt me, not just kill me,” Harry pointed out softly. “What better way to do that than killing you and Scorpius, or my friends? Hermione goes to her job under armed guard, you know, and there are Hit Wizards watching the Burrow when she leaves Rose there. I could call the Ministry for an escort for you, and they’d do it, but you can’t just go alone.”
            Draco screwed his face up, but Scorpius, who didn’t look as though he had understood much, broke in. “We can go to the shop and repair Golden.”
            It was obvious what was most important to him—though Harry thought that was only because Draco had made sure that he didn’t have to grow up too fast and deal with the other consequences of the war before he was ready. He gave Scorpius a soft smile. “We can go.”
            “I’m going to eat breakfast and get dressed,” Scorpius announced, and vanished back into his room, still cradling the handful of broken parts that had been Golden.
            Harry crossed Draco’s gaze with his own, and raised his eyebrows. Draco shook his head. “You realize that he’s going to be insufferable until we go. And we have to go now. I’m not breaking a promise to my son.”
            “Even if I was the one who made it?”
            “Yes,” said Draco. “If you’re going to be…in his life, then we have to get used to him feeling that he can trust you and rely on your word.”
            Harry reached out and caught Draco’s hand. “If you were about to say that I was his other parent, then I would be honored to be considered so.”
            Draco’s face softened, and he leaned against Harry. And went on leaning. He had apparently tried to stop at the clothes that the glamour made Harry appear to be wearing. He gasped a little as he was suddenly leaning against Harry’s bare chest instead.
            Harry coughed at the look in Draco’s eyes. “Scorpius is getting ready, and we don’t have time,” he pointed out.
            Draco cast his son’s door a calculating glance, and then nodded. “You’re right. But we’ll think about this when we get back from Diagon Alley.” He let a hand trail down Harry’s hip, over what Harry was sure he knew was a sensitive spot marked with bruises, as he turned and sauntered back to his bedroom.
            If the sauntering was meant to make Harry’s eyes fasten on Draco’s arse and stay there, it definitely worked. Harry blinked, shook his head, and managed to get past the impulse to blither out something stupid.
            This having a lover thing is going to take some getting used to.
*
            Harry had been prepared for some awkwardness when they walked into Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, but not the bleak, bitter hatred in George’s eyes.
            “I told you I wouldn’t serve them,” George hissed, taking a step towards Harry. His hand was already rising, and Harry automatically checked it to make sure George didn’t have his wand in it. He didn’t. Harry relaxed, but only until he could reach over and tuck Scorpius behind him. “I told you that you shouldn’t bring them here. You agreed. And how long did it take you to break that promise? It just shows me who you really value.”
            He looked over Harry’s shoulder at Draco, and then spun around and started for the room in the back of the shop. Harry took a hasty step after him. If George went in there, it would be hours before he came out, and they needed his expertise.
            “George, wait!”
            “Why should I, when you’ve chosen your side?” George kept walking, and his hand was already on the doorknob.
            “The war is over!” Harry barked, not even knowing those were the words he was going to speak next. “There’s no sides anymore! And we need your help to repair Scorpius’s bird, and I didn’t leave them outside in the alley because the Risen Cobras are fucking hunting me, and they wouldn’t be safe! Hell, I wouldn’t even be here if I could repair the damage by myself! I suppose I could go home and firecall you, but that would be stupid, when we’re here! Can you bloody grow up for once?”
            “Harry, Scorpius’s big ears,” said Draco, but Harry didn’t care. George was turning around and staring at Harry in a way he’d never looked in all those years of Harry listening to him and helping him and holding him.
            “If you lost a twin, you would understand,” George whispered. “No one can understand except someone who lost a twin.”
            “Then I suppose I shouldn’t have tried to help you at all, since someone can only understand if they’ve lost a twin.” Harry chopped his hand down. “Here, let Draco and Scorpius go sit in the other room, and you help me with this bird.” He felt as though all his great sex with Draco had never happened—worn and tired and disgusted. “Here, fine, it’s ridiculous, but if you have to have them out of sight to be out of mind—”
            “I lost Fred.”
            “I know that,” said Harry, and closed his eyes. It felt like the same tired thing he had gone through with Ron and Hermione, all over again. He knew George was suffering. But there was a limit to how much he could help him with that suffering, or bear it, or be responsible for it. And he was nearing that limit pretty fast.
            “I lost him.”
            “I know that,” Harry said back, insistently, and turned to George. He knew Draco and Scorpius were standing very still behind him, but right now, he couldn’t help them. He had to have this out with George now if he was going to have it out at all. And he knew part of this was his fault because he had coddled George and let him get away with not going to a Mind-Healer and all the rest of it, but thinking about it that way wasn’t helpful, either. “What do you want me to do about it?”
            George caught his breath, his eyes fluttering with hurt. Harry nodded to him. “I know that it’s hard for you. I know that. But I really don’t know what else I can do to to help you or soothe you or reassure you that I’m your friend no matter who I date or live with.”
            Harry heard Draco make a slight coughing noise, but he didn’t turn around. He had to handle this with George on his own, he thought. Draco interfering now would only make things worse. Harry waited where he was, holding George’s eyes.
George finally looked away, licked his lips, and murmured, “I don’t think that anyone can understand the full extent of my loss. That’s another reason I don’t want to go to a Mind-Healer.”
“Fine,” said Harry. He thought he kept his voice calm and neutral this time. He gestured to Draco and Scorpius, and they edged past George, Draco keeping one hand on Scorpius’s shoulder. Harry was glad of that. He didn’t think George could stand Scorpius touching either him or anything in the shop right now.
George waited until the door at the back of the shop clicked shut. Then he shivered and told Harry, “I’ve been marking time until I get to the point when I can let go and go back to Fred, and it won’t disappoint too many people.”
Harry said nothing for a second. Then he murmured, “You’re only thirty. And you know how long wizards live.”
“I’m resigned to the fact that it’s going to be a long time,” said George, with a snap in his voice that made Harry wonder if that was true. “But in the meantime, I can live the way that Fred would have wanted me to.” He turned his head, but didn’t face the room at the back of the shop before he snapped around again and said, “And part of that means no truce with the enemy.”
Harry thought for a second. He supposed he could have argued that Fred would have wanted no such thing, but then George would just tell him again that he couldn’t understand what it was like to lose a twin, and Harry supposed that was true.
In silence, he held out his hands, filled with the parts of Scorpius’s bird. George folded his arms and walked over to the far side of the shop.
“You won’t even repair a toy for him?” Harry heard so many emotions in his own voice that he hadn’t heard there in years, and from the startled glance George gave him, so did he.
But a second later, George’s face hardened. “No truce with the enemy.” He took a deep breath. “And as long as you’re dating him, then I have to ask you not to work in my shop. Or come here. Knowing that someone who actually likes a Malfoy is here…” He shivered. “You don’t understand what kind of dreams that would give me, the kind of dreams where Fred would disapprove of everything I do.”
Harry curled his hands in silence around the parts of Golden. In silence he looked at George, and in silence he drew his wand and pointed it at the stand of golden birds and said, “Acclaro mystica.”
The stand vibrated, and the birds rose into the air and blurred around for a second. Then a series of letters began to unwind from them, floating in the air like small scrolls. Each incantation George had used to make the birds, to repair them and make them fly and ensure their wings flapped in time and everything else, was there.
Harry knew it was chaos and he wouldn’t be able to sort them out clearly, but that didn’t matter so much. When he went home, he would ask Draco if he had a Pensieve, and then he would sort out the incantations and make sure he understood how they worked, and which ones would be necessary to fix Golden.
“What are you doing? Stop!”
The spell was stopping anyway, which made Harry hope that George realized just how useless his cry was. The stand settled back into place, and the birds on top of it, although jumbled and in different places than before. Harry cast a Cushioning Charm to stop the ones that fell to the floor from breaking, and met George’s gaze. He was pale enough his freckles looked like a disease.
“Where did you learn that spell?” George whispered.
“Aurors,” said Harry easily. “When they absolutely need to know what Dark spells are cast on a place or object, they use it. Not often, mind. It’s very noticeable, and so it’s no use in places that they’re trying to sneak up on. But useful enough to remember.”
“You could take down my shop like that. You could set up your own shop if you liked.”
Harry opened his mouth, closed it, and ended up shaking his head. “I suppose I really am the enemy, if you think like that,” he murmured. “But I don’t want to, George. You said no truce with the enemy. Fine. But I made a promise to a little boy that I would repair his friend. I’ll know how to do it, now that you won’t.”
“He’s a Malfoy.”
Harry had no idea whether George was talking about Draco or Scorpius, but frankly, it didn’t matter at this point. “And Malfoys didn’t kill Fred,” he said evenly. “No Malfoys were near him.”
“They’re still Death Eaters! Free ones!”

“You sound like the people who slaver in the paper about me even being friends with Draco,” said Harry. “One of them wasn’t born when your brother died. Maybe you want to extend the hatred down the generations just like your ancestors did, but Draco doesn’t, and we’ll stay away so you don’t worry about it.”
“You’re a traitor.”
“I’m the enemy, you said it, and enemies don’t betray each other,” said Harry. His heart was heavy, but George had been the one to declare Harry had to leave, and the one who had said that Fred’s loss ten years ago was more important than anyone living. “Come on, Draco, Scorpius.”
He remained ready to raise a Shield Charm in front of him if he had to while they came cautiously out of the room and across the shop, but George only stood and stared at him. Harry turned around when he was near the door, and nodded to Scorpius. “I’ll need a day or so to fix Golden, but I can do it, now.”
Scorpius nodded back but didn’t say anything, maybe too overawed. Draco gave George a single clear look.
“I pity him,” he said, when they were outside. “I pity anyone who drives you away from them.”
Harry said nothing, but curled his fingers around Draco’s.
*
SP777: I’m reluctant to do more with dates because I don’t find them, in and of themselves, that interesting.
BAFan: Thank you!
MoonlightVampiress: At the very least, Draco would have received a Silencing Curse or something! And thanks.
staar: Well, Harry is getting along. Although he’s sorry about what it may cost him with George.
Morgana: No, Malfoy is not responsible for Fred’s death, but George has decided that anyone who was involved with the battle is still, in a way, responsible for it. And Draco did let in the Death Eaters that scarred Bill.
Jester: Thank you!
moon: I think I like conflict and characters who believe they have found a comfortable place and don’t like being dragged out of their corner a bit too much. ;)
But yes, I think I know what you’re talking about. “Our Ordinary Days” is probably the one-shot you mean.
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There's a Pure-Blood Custom For That