Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Unstoppable	By : Thunderbird Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 14476 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any affiliated characters. I make no profit from this story.

Chapter List
- 26
- 27
- 28
A/N: All right, away from the heavy plot now and back to the wedding! Let's spend some time with Harry and Narcissa.
Also, I've been thinking a lot about it and I still for the life of me can't figure out where I want to send Harry and Draco on their honeymoon. I know what's going to happen there (lots of smut, of course), but I don't know where! Suggestions are welcome.
Warnings: Implied M/M lemons
Chapter 27: Chandelier
(Harry)

Harry was daydreaming when a knock came to his office door. He was supposed to be drafting a memo to one of the solicitors about the Rowle case, which was to have a preliminary hearing the following week.
But he wasn’t writing the memo. Instead he was thinking about the incredible talent of Draco’s tongue, a talent his fiancé had put to good use the night before as he teased Harry’s cock and massaged him inside with two deft fingers, tormenting Harry into a whirling, building vortex of pleasure that seemed to go on and on.
He’d come shouting Draco’s name to the ceiling, slept beside him in a blissful, post-coital haze, and then spent the entirety of the following morning in a state of semi-arousal as he remembered it: the pleasure, but also the look on Draco’s face as he swallowed Harry’s cum.
Fuck. He adjusted himself in his chair, trying to manage his erection.
This engagement had been like a cattle prod to both of their libidos. They’d gotten much more daring in the past couple of weeks and had even pawned Teddy off to Andromeda and Narcissa a few evenings so they could shag unhindered in any room of the house they felt like.
Imagine what the honeymoon is going to be like, he thought, when we’ll have no interruptions or obligations to stop us from fucking nonstop for a week straight. He chuckled to himself in anticipation and amusement.
Which was when the knock on the door came, and Harry had to breathe deeply a moment to quell his flush.
“Come in.”
A petite brunette opened the door, a stack of parchment in hand.
“Is this a good time, Mr. P- I mean…” She cleared her throat. “Harry. Is this a good time?”
“Sure, Andrea,” he said, smiling at her. “What can I do for you?”
Andrea Platt had started at the Foundation only about four months after Harry. Naomi’s task force had just completed its mission and founded the Department for Blood Equality and Inclusion, of which, to his shock, Harry was named Deputy Head. Which meant that he, at nineteen years old, was going to be managing a staff and required an assistant. Andrea had been hired then, and had served dutifully as his assistant for three years, until he recommended her for a promotion. Even though she was now one of his fellow department operatives and no longer his assistant, she still had trouble not calling him “Mr. Potter” in spite of how often he reminded her not to.
It had been odd, in fact, when she had called him “Mr. Potter” while she was his assistant, given that she was three years older than him. But, since he was the youngest Deputy Head of a department the Foundation had ever seen, he’d had to get used to people older than him deferring to him quite often, even when he didn’t want them to.
She sat down across from him now, her attention on the stack of parchment she held.
“There’s some… reports from the afterschool program…” she began, thumbing through the pages. “A couple of incidents. Nothing major, just the normal accidental magic sort of stuff. One student melted his friend’s hat while they were play fighting over it and another…” She thumbed some more. “Another turned a fellow student into a badger… but the staff put that right very quickly.”
“Sure.” Those sort of things happened all the time when dealing with magical children.
“And we’ve lost two attendees, I’m afraid.”
“Lost them.” Harry looked at her with concern. “How?”
Her eyes widened. “I mean – no, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean ‘lost’ in the sense of… I meant that they’ve decided to leave the program. That’s all.”
Harry bit back a smile. “No, I understood what you meant. I just wanted to know what caused them to leave. Was it something about the program, or…”
Andrea huffed a self-deprecating sigh and flushed. “Right. Of course. Um, no, it wasn’t us. One child’s family is about to move to Iceland, so… that’s that.”
“Yeah.”
“And the other child…” She looked over her notes. “…is being pulled because his father had some kind of falling out with the father of another child in the program, and those children are friends and the father of the first child doesn’t want them spending time together anymore.”
Harry sighed. “So he’s pulling his son out.”
“Precisely.”
“The other child is staying in?”
“Yes, sir.”
Harry gave her a mildly admonishing look for the address, but she was still staring at her notes and didn’t see.
“Is there anything else I should know? How’s the Rowle situation being received? Is there a lot of talk or gossip about it among the kids or parents?”
“Some talk amongst the parents, mostly about what a ridiculous sod Edmund Rowle is.”
Harry snorted, and Andrea gave him a tentative smile.
“The children seem oblivious. It’s business as usual.”
“And Jasmine?”
“I’ve been looking out for her like you asked, and she seems her normal self.”
“Great, thank you for doing that.”
“It’s my pleasure, sir.”
Now she was looking at him, so at least his admonishment could land.
“I mean Harry,” she amended, chagrined.
He smiled. “I’ll admit, I was concerned about how the Rowle case would affect things at the program. I thought… I don’t know…” He rubbed his chin. “I thought maybe some parents would pull their kids, because of the bad publicity, or maybe the children would… that the line between purebloods and the rest would feel sharper somehow, that the gap would widen.”
“I don’t think that’s going to happen. We would have seen it by now.”
Harry nodded. “Sure. I’m just… that’s my worst nightmare, honestly. The program is my brainchild, four years of my life. If it all falls apart because of one stubborn war criminal…”
“I thought you handled the interview with the Prophet really well,” she said. “You clarified the situation and let people know where we stand. I think we gained ground rather than lost it.”
“You think so?”
“I do. I really do. I think… don’t quote me on this, but I think the publicity might have actually been good for us. We made it clear we’re a place of inclusion, that we welcome all kinds, and that we’re a safe space where a child’s blood status and family history don’t affect how accepted they will be. And like you said, it’s been nearly four years since the program was founded, and people take for granted that it’s there… the publicity has reminded people that what we do is important.”
Harry thought that over. “You think interest will go up?”
“I think enrollment will go up,” she said. “We usually get a surge in January, don’t we?”
“The largest surge in enrollment we get is in September,” said Harry. “But January’s decent too.”
“Well, I think it’s going to be more than decent. I think it’s going to be a really good January for us.”
Harry allowed himself a small smile. He liked her optimism, and her competence. He was glad it was she he had chosen to oversee the program, since he had to be away from work most afternoons with Teddy.
“Well, thank you, and keep up the good work. I feel a lot better knowing the program is in such good hands when I can’t be there myself.”
Andrea’s smile was more than tentative now, and she looked rather pleased. “Thank you for saying that.”
Harry glanced at his watch. “I’d stay and talk longer, but unfortunately I have a lunch meeting. But let’s get together soon and discuss the coverage of my duties during my honeymoon. I want to make sure nothing slips through the cracks, and with Naomi now on maternity leave…”
“Of course,” she replied. “Though you know you shouldn’t worry. We’ll take care of all of it.” She stood.
“I know you will. But I have to admit I feel a little guilty. Seems to me I didn’t pick the most convenient time to get married. But this is important to both Draco and I, so we’re making it work.”
“I think it’s wonderful,” Andrea said, beaming. “The whole wizarding world has been waiting for you to tie the knot. And now that you have Teddy…”
Harry nodded. “Yeah, it’s the right time.” It’s what all the papers were saying, not that that was why Harry thought so. He’d rolled his eyes at the media’s coverage of their engagement and all the speculation about what sort of ceremony they would have and what they would be wearing and what sort of “A-list” war heroes and celebrities would be attending. It was absurd, but it was also business as usual, for the papers anyway, so he didn’t much care. “All right, I’ve got to run. I’ll see you later on?”
“Sure. I’ll talk to your assistant and put a meeting on the schedule for us.”
“Perfect.”
***
The lunch meeting he had was not with a client or a solicitor, but with Narcissa Malfoy. The wedding plans were in full swing now, and Narcissa had apparently compiled an entire book that included every detail of the ceremony and reception, and needed Harry’s approval for a good portion of it. While he would be happy to spend time with Narcissa under other circumstances, he was not particularly looking forward to the meeting. A part of him hoped that Narcissa would just make most of the decisions herself so he didn’t have to, but another part of him was worried that he wouldn’t like some of her ideas and would have to tell her so. That was quite an unpleasant prospect.
“I’m glad you’re here, Harry,” Narcissa greeted him in the foyer, kissing his cheek.
Harry returned the kiss and pulled back to smile at his soon-to-be mother-in-law. She had been slowly warming up to him for years, degree by degree, as Harry continued to prove his devotion to her son. But now that he and Draco were engaged he was seeing a whole new side of her, a whole new level of warmth. Maybe she had been waiting for this for a long time, or perhaps she was simply excited and would go back to her normal self after the wedding. Harry didn’t know. But either way it was one of the plus sides of this wedding planning process, and he decided he would enjoy it for what it was, for as long as it lasted.
“I’m glad to be here.”
She gave him an amused, knowing look. “I know this isn’t your favorite thing, and I would do much of it with Draco, if he had the time, but… it must be done.”
“I understand.”
“Good then. I thought I’d first walk you through the space we’ll be using for the ceremony and the reception, to make sure it’s to your liking.”
“All right. Though I’m sure I will like it.” He wasn’t about to tell her he didn’t.
She took him first to the ballroom, a bright, expansive room with high, gilded ceilings, arches all along the side, framing the space, and a massive, opulent crystal chandelier that probably weighed about a ton hanging as a focal point in the room.
“We’ll have the reception in here,” she told him. “We’ll set up tables for the guests to eat and drink and sit comfortably on that end of the room.” She pointed to the far side, where the ballroom ended at a set of large glass doors that opened into the gardens. “And on this side will be the dance floor, and I’ll erect a stage for the band here along this wall.” She gestured some more.
“Right,” Harry said dazedly. A band, just another thing he hadn’t thought of. Well, he couldn’t see the harm, though he hoped part of the night they could play music on a sound system, so Harry and Draco could both have their favorite songs. Draco had already given Harry a list, and Harry had added to it himself.
“Well, what do you think?”
“I… think it’s great. There’s… you know… a lot of space, and that’s good.”
He heard Narcissa chuckle to herself softly and gave her a sheepish smile. She smiled back, hooking her arm through his.
“I have all sorts of ideas for how to decorate the space. We’ll make it very special for you, I promise.”
“I trust you,” Harry told her. When it came to décor, Harry had no opinions whatsoever.
“Let’s look at how the garden is coming along, shall we?”
She led him across the ballroom to the large doors, and they opened magically as the two approached. Harry gasped at the sight before them, unable to help it.
In the distance the rest of the Malfoy gardens could be seen, dead and dusted with snow. But here, in this wispy bubble of climate-altering magic, it was downright balmy, the air pleasant against the skin of his exposed face and hands. There were rows of rosebushes that were green, though not yet blooming, lining the stone-paved path that led to an open area and a wooden structure that appeared to still be under construction.
“The architect I hired hasn’t fully finished the design for the gazebo, so we’ve only put the frame in,” she explained to him, pointing to it. “But that is where you will stand for the ceremony and say your vows. We’re thinking we’ll paint it white, and have flowered vines growing all along it. It will look very festive.”
She went into more detail, talking about the structure and the roses and how the seating for the guests would be arranged, and Harry half listened and half simply tried to picture it, standing with Draco before all of their friends and family. He could picture it, and the image made his heart jump in his chest.
There were moments, like this, when it would hit him that this was really happening, that he was really getting married.
“I love it,” he said.
She turned to look at him sharply, and for a moment he worried that he had rudely interrupted her in the middle of her explanation. But then she beamed at him, and he had no choice to smile back.
“I’m glad,” she said simply.
“It’s really incredible that you can transform the garden like this. Doesn’t it use a lot of magic? Wouldn’t you have to renew the charms every now and then?”
“The charms are feeding off of surrogate artifacts placed throughout the rose garden.” She pointed to the stone statues of various animals that were standing here and there. “They keep the charms going, and have the added bonus of being nicely decorative.”
“Whose magic are they channeling?” Harry asked, though he thought he knew the answer.
“Mine.”
Harry looked around at all the artifacts. “This is quite a lot. Is it not a drain on you?” He’d used surrogate artifacts before, when he was restoring Grimmauld while still at Hogwarts, but those had taken only a little of his magic, as not much was required to heal the energy in the house. This, though, this was working against nature, and in a large space to boot.
“I do feel the change,” she replied. “But I am a powerful witch, and it is not debilitating.”
He stared at her, unsure what to say. It seemed to be asking a lot for her to do this, just so they could have their wedding outside. On the other hand, it was she who had chosen it in the first place. She obviously knew what she was doing.
“Come now,” she said, running a gentle hand along his arm. “Let’s sit in the parlor and have some lunch, and I’ll show you all that I have planned for you.”
They settled themselves comfortably and Narcissa informed the elves they would like some food. Then she presented Harry with a quite large leather-bound book full of drawings, photographs, and color samples.
“Let me show you what I’m thinking about for the wedding party.”
“All right.” This, Harry could only assume, was going to be his least favorite bit.
“I’m aware that you and my son are electing to wear tuxedos rather than robes.” Her lips were pursed as she said this, indicating her tacit disapproval of the choice, and Harry had to make a concerted effort not to grin. “But I do hope you will allow my tailor to make the tuxedos, so that they are of high quality and fit well.” She opened the book.
“I…” Harry paused, realizing there was no point in arguing. “I suppose that would be fine.”
“And I hope you will consider colors other than black.” She was flipping through the pages now. “Honestly, Muggle men. Must they always wear black when they dress for an occasion? It’s so pedestrian.”
Harry couldn’t help it. He let a chuckle escape him. “What did you have in mind?”
“I have a lovely shade of gray picked out for Draco.” She showed Harry an array of various shades, with names like “pewter,” “ash,” and “fossil,” all which, Harry thought, seemed to not resemble at all the names they were given. She pointed to one that was lighter in shade. “I think this one will suit him nicely, with his eyes. And it has a hint of purple, which will correspond with the colors I’m thinking of for his side of the wedding party.”
“You want to put them in purple? Even the men?”
“If they’ll allow me,” she said tartly.
Harry chuckled some more. He wondered if Blaise and Theo would bother putting up a fight at all, or if they would just accept the inevitable. They were both purebloods, after all, and used to wearing vivid colors in their dress robes. Why should suits be any different?
“So Draco’s tux would be that color?” He could picture that nicely, actually. Draco always looked handsome in gray.
“With a purple tie, to match the rest of the party. I haven't picked the exact shade yet. Perhaps orchid, or violet.”
"Whatever you think," said Harry. "What about my tuxedo?”
She gave him a sweet smile that made him suspect she was about to try and cajole him into something.
“You look best in jewel tones: deep reds, greens, even purples…”
Oh Gods, she’s not going to make me wear purple as well, surely, he thought in horror.
“And, of course, blue.” She turned the page, and there was another array, this one entirely of shades of deep blue. “This one, I think: ‘midnight.’ Elegant but understated. It’s dark enough to suit your coloring, but it has enough vibrancy that it will make your eyes absolutely stunning.”
Harry looked at the color, undeniable relief rushing through him. He could live with that color. In fact, he rather liked it. He owned a fair number of shirts that shade or something like it, and Draco always responded well to him when he wore them.
“I like that. I think Draco will too.”
“Oh, he will. He won’t be able to take his eyes off of you. Trust me.”
Harry fought a blush and asked, “What were you thinking for my side of the wedding party, then?”
She sighed, sounding put-upon. “That is a bit of a conundrum for me at the moment, as I’d like to have the women in silver.” She closed her eyes. “Elegant silver gowns that will sparkle in the light. Can’t you picture it?” She opened them again. “Miss Granger and Miss Kemp would both look lovely in that. But I’m just not sure about all that silver for the men. Longbottom might be able to pull it off; his hair is dark enough. But your Weasley…” She gave Harry a look, as though it was his fault entirely that his best mate had red hair. “I don’t know what to do about him.”
“You could just put them in black, with silver ties,” he ventured, having no idea if his suggestion would be in taste or not.
“I have considered that,” she said with another sigh, looking through the book some more with a distracted air. “But I have yet to find a solution that satisfies me.”
Harry watched her turn the pages, feeling an unexpected surge of affection for the woman.
“But no matter,” she said. “We can get the tailors working on the other pieces and perhaps inspiration will strike and I will know what to do.” She looked at him. “So, you approve of the colors.”
“I think they’re great,” said Harry, meaning it.
“If we had more time, I would let you think on it for a few days. But I’d like to get the fabric ordered and start in with the fittings right away.”
“That’s fine,” Harry cut in. “I don’t need to think. These are good.”
She gave him a knowing look, but moved on. “Very well. Let’s talk about the reception. I need your choices on flowers and I want to talk over the possibilities for the menu, as well as music.”
Harry took a deep breath. “Yeah.”
An elf brought them finger sandwiches and pumpkin juice, and Harry ate and drank while Narcissa flipped through her sample book some more, showing him various possibilities and occasionally asking for his input. He found himself saying “Whatever you think is best” quite a lot, though Narcissa did push him to make an actual choice once or twice. And he did feel strongly about the music.
“A band for part of the time would be fine,” he said. “But Draco and I have some specific songs we want to play. You know, Muggle songs.”
“And a band couldn’t possibly learn them?” she asked, arching a brow.
“We were thinking we’d prefer to hear the originals.”
“Through one of those Muggle contraptions. A… stereo, it’s called, isn’t it?”
“Well, yes, although for a party you’ll need… large speakers and such, you know, to make sure it’s loud enough.”
She looked at him blankly.
“Magnification charms will probably only interfere with the stereo’s functioning,” Harry explained. “Because of the electricity. You’ll have to do it the Muggle way.”
“This will require electricity.” The realization seemed to hit her like a blow.
Harry faltered, seeing the problem. The manor wasn’t wired for it.
“I will work something out, Harry,” she said, correctly reading his anxious expression. “I will find a way.”
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t really thinking about the fact-“
“Harry,” she interrupted him. “This is your wedding. You should be able to play the music you want. I will find a way.”
Harry looked at her a moment, trying to read her face. “You’re just... already doing so much. Considering the challenge of the climate-altering charms and everything, not to mention-“
“I said I would take care of it,” she cut in again. “I want to. I will find a way. A list of songs, though, would be appreciated, to make sure we have what we need.”
“I’ll finalize the list with Draco and send it to you.”
“Good then. That’s all I had for the reception.”
“All right.”
“And that leaves us one last thing, for today at least. The rings.”
Harry blinked. “Draco and I both decided on platinum.”
“Yes, I know. I’ve already had them forged.” She took out a small velvet box and placed it on the coffee table in front of them.
“Oh.”
She smiled. “But in pureblood tradition, there is more to the wedding bands than precious metals. There is also magic.”
Harry huffed a laugh. “Of course.”
She opened the box to reveal the simple platinum band resting inside. “This will be Draco’s ring. You will put this on his finger in the final portion of the ceremony.”
Harry picked up the box to look at the ring more closely. It was pristine and shiny, simple but elegant. He’d pictured it in his mind’s eye plenty of times, but seeing it in person… it was impossible not to imagine what it would be like to pick up the small, cold thing and place it on Draco’s finger. He ran a finger over it, lightly, and the gesture felt strangely intimate.
“I have a request, regarding the rings,” Narcissa said, regaining his attention. He placed the box back on the table and looked at her. “It would make me very happy if you were willing to use blood rings for your wedding bands. It is an old pureblood tradition, in light and dark families alike. And, though Draco would hardly want to pressure you about it, I think it would make him quite happy as well.”
“Blood rings,” Harry repeated. “Blood magic?”
“Yes,” she replied. “Perfectly legal, and very common. It’s quite simple, really. It’s a charm placed upon the ring of your choosing.” She tapped on the platinum ring between them. “The charm allows the ring to absorb a drop of your blood and manifest a design that represents your essence. It changes the look of the ring, makes it unique. But, more importantly, it’s symbolic of your commitment. Draco, when he wears this ring,” she tapped the box again, “will, symbolically, be carrying a piece of you with him at all times. It shows his devotion to you, and that your lives are irreversibly intertwined.”
Harry stared at the ring. “So my blood goes in his ring, and his blood in mine?”
She nodded. “Precisely.”
“And that’s all it does? I mean, it changes the design of the ring to match my… essence, or whatever, but that’s all it does?”
“Yes. Like I said, it’s symbolic.”
“And Draco wants this.”
“When I asked him, he said that I should ask you. Which, in my opinion, is his way of saying he would like it, but he doesn’t want to force you into something you don’t want to do.”
Harry considered that. It sounded like Draco, though there was also a chance Narcissa was manipulating him a little. He didn’t hold it against her; she was a Slytherin and a Malfoy, a woman used to getting what she wanted. And what she wanted wasn’t unreasonable.
But what do I want? He would be wearing this ring for the rest of his life. Did he want something that used blood magic on his finger forever? It was a little creepy.
Then again, it wasn’t as though he was unfamiliar with the use of blood magic. Those surrogate artifacts keeping the rose garden warm outside were using blood magic. It wasn’t unethical.
And it was just a drop of blood. And it would be Draco’s.
A part of Draco that I carry with me, always. He felt warmth pool in his stomach, and that, more than any intellectual consideration on the matter, made the decision for him.
“All right. Then let’s do the blood rings. That’s fine.”
“Lovely,” Narcissa replied. “Would you like to complete the charm right now?”
Harry stared at her. “What do you mean?”
“If you add a drop of blood to this ring, then the charm will be complete. You’ll get to see what Draco’s finished wedding ring looks like.”
“Yeah, all right,” he said. He didn’t much see the harm, and he was curious. “Just one drop?”
“Yes. Just touch the ring with it. Magic will do the rest.”
Harry used his wand to prick his finger, wincing only a little. Narcissa removed the ring from its box and felt it out to him.
The moment his bloody finger touched the ring there was a spark, and then thin coils of magic began to twine themselves around the band. Narcissa’s fingers held it steady; apparently the magic didn’t affect her at all, only the ring, which emitted one final white glow before settling.
Harry and Narcissa both stared down at the transformed band.
“Very nice,” she said quietly.
Harry agreed. It was a simple design; not much had changed. It was the same platinum band, only now there were lines of gold criss-crossing and wrapping around the band, almost like thin metallic vines.
“Your essence is gold,” Narcissa said, smirking. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
“I think I knew that already,” Harry said, remembering something from the war. “Friends of mine turned into me using polyjuice potion, once. It was that same color.”
“Ah, yes. Polyjuice reflects the essence of the person just like this charm does. The magic to create both has the same ancient roots.”
“Do you know what color my wedding ring will have in it, then, with Draco’s essence added?”
She gave him a coy smile. “Yes. But why don’t we let that be a surprise? Something special on the day? I promise I won’t tell Draco what color this one is either. I won’t even tell him that the charm created the lattice design, though that’s what he cared most about knowing, more than the color.”
“Why?”
“Because the design reflects the love and commitment of the person who provided the blood towards the person who will wear the ring. The lattice is the design that shows the strongest possible bond between two people, a love match. It shows the depth of your commitment and your desire to integrate your life with his in every way.”
“Oh.” Harry thought about that for a minute or two while Narcissa returned the ring to the box and put it safely away. “Was this some kind of test?” he asked her finally. “To see how committed I am?”
She laughed delicately at his frankness. “Historically, it often has been,” she said. “Especially in situations where the families of the betrothed are suspicious of each other or the fidelity and intentions of one or both of the betrothed are in question. That is not the case here, though, of course. So, no, it wasn’t a test. I never had any question about the depth of your devotion to my son, nor his to you.”
“So you think my ring will have the lattice as well, once Draco adds his blood?”
“Knowing Draco, yes. I have no doubt that it will. But let’s still leave it to surprise him, shall we?”
Harry nodded. “Yes, all right.” With the ring put away and the other details covered, Harry figured this was the end of their lunch. He was about to say something about getting back to the office when Narcissa spoke.
“My son loves you very much.”
Harry smiled and stared down at his hands. “I know.”
“He is very committed to you. There is nothing he wouldn’t do, nothing he wouldn’t give up, to make sure you stayed in his life.”
Harry stared at her, wondering why she was saying something she must know he already knew.
“He tells me everything, you know,” she went on. “He tells me how much he loves you, and how committed he is, and how wonderful you are. And he tells me when he’s made mistakes. And he tells me when you’ve been good enough to forgive him.”
“Narcissa-“
“He told me about the fight you had.”
“The fight?”
“When he came to me asking for a house elf to help you with managing your home and care of Teddy, he also told me about the fight, about what he did, and the things he said. He was…” She shook her head. “He was so ashamed, Harry. Of not seeing it sooner, of thinking only of his needs – he’s terrified of it, you know, his own selfishness… perhaps he has Lucius and I to blame for it, I don’t know. He’s not terrified of you leaving him as much as he’s terrified that he cannot deserve you, and that his selfishness will make you give too much, and resent him.”
Harry watched her a moment, until he was sure she wasn’t going to continue. “I know all of this,” Harry said. “We tell each other everything too. We’re talking about it. We’ve been working through it.”
“I know you have. That isn’t why I bring it up.”
“All right…”
“I bring it up because there are two sides to it. Draco was wrong; we all know that. He was taking you for granted, and he wasn’t making time for you and Teddy. He has worked very hard to be better.”
“He has,” Harry agreed.
“But are you working hard to be better about asking for help?”
Harry said nothing for a moment. Narcissa reached toward him and took both of his hands in hers.
“Yes,” Harry said finally, quietly. “I’m working on it.”
Narcissa squeezed his hands tighter. “I want to know, Harry, why, when things were so hard, when Teddy was sick and you were so tired… I want to know why you didn’t call someone. Me, or Molly…”
Harry stared at their clasped hands. “Honestly, I didn’t think of it.”
“Why not?”
“I’m… used to taking care of things on my own, I guess.” He shrugged slightly.
“This is from your childhood, then, the fact that you had to always take care of yourself.”
“Narcissa, I…” He chewed on his lip, wondering if she wasn’t going to like what he was about to say. But he had to be honest. “I don’t like chocking up everything I do to my terrible childhood. It doesn’t help me.”
She sighed. “All right. Then tell me why you didn’t firecall me or Molly. We would’ve helped you in an instant.”
“I told you. I didn’t think of it. Because I’m used to doing things on my own.” He could feel her looking at him, but he looked off into the distance, watching the portrait of an old Malfoy ancestor as he puffed lazily on an ivory pipe. “I thought I could handle it. Merlin knows you guys have enough going on. Molly is constantly dealing with crises with her children and grandchildren, and you’ve had Andromeda to take care of, and I know you’ve been doing so much of that because of how Draco and I have been so busy…” He trailed off as he felt Narcissa tighten her grip so much that it hurt.
“Busy caring for Andromeda’s grandson.”
Harry blinked. “Well, yes, but-“
“But that’s not even-“ Narcissa cut herself off, raising her chin and staring stonily back at Harry. “Harry, I don’t even know where to begin.”
Harry stared at her. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You said Molly is always dealing with crises regarding her children and grandchildren, so she doesn’t have time to help you. Since when are you not her child as well?”
“I… I don’t know.” He felt a lump starting to form in his throat. He didn’t like talking about this, or even thinking about it.
“Hasn’t she told you that you are? I’ve heard her say it myself.”
“Yes, but…” Harry swallowed. “It’s not the same.”
“Not the same as what?”
Harry grit his teeth. “I don’t know.”
“Yes you do. Say it. Not the same as what?”
“I’m not really her child. I mean… I know she thinks of me… I know she… I know she would do anything for me. But I can’t ask her to, not when she has six other children and I’m not really… hers.”
Narcissa gripped him hard. “And what about me? You’ve been with my son over five years now. You’re going to marry him. That makes us family.”
“I know we’re going to be family soon. I know I will be your son soon-“
“No, Harry. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. There is no ‘will be.’ There’s only what already is. You are already my son.” Her grip loosened a little, and she ran one hand over his gently, leaning forward. “You have been for a long time. Maybe I… I’m not so good at demonstrating my feelings. I’m sure you know that. But I also thought you knew… I hoped that you knew how important you are to me, and how much I care for you. I thought you knew that you could turn to me for anything.”
Harry shook his head, fighting the sting in his eyes for all he was worth. “I think I… know it, you know… in theory. But in practice… I don’t think of it. And if I did I wouldn’t even know how…”
“To ask?”
“Yeah.” Harry freed one of his hands to dash across his eyes. “Or when I’m supposed to ask and when I’m not.”
“What do you mean?”
“I want to be a good father to Teddy. I just want to do right by him, you know?” He blinked, unable to stem the tears now, and feeling rather mortified for it. “And I don’t know when I’m supposed to ask for help and when I’m supposed to do it on my own. I’m just… trying to… I’m just doing it as I go, and I never know if it’s right, or-“
“Harry, that’s what parenting is. Doing the best you can and never knowing until much later if you’re doing it right. That’s what makes it so terrifying, and that’s why no one can do it alone, including you.” Harry looked at her, and saw that her eyes glistening just as much as his. “You need to stop thinking about supposed to when it comes to asking for help. There is no ‘supposed to.’ When you need help, ask for it. Go to Molly, if you’re more comfortable – as you are her child, by the way, in every way that matters – or ask me. Floo me, or owl me, or send me a Patronus, and I will come running.”
“But what if you’re in France or something?” Harry asked, knowing his voice sounded a bit pathetic. “I wouldn’t want you to-“
“I will get to you by any means necessary,” she interrupted him. “Even if it means Apparating a dozen times. I will do it. And I will be glad to.” She reached out and brushed some moisture from his cheek, and it struck Harry as the most maternal thing she had ever done for him. “My sons are the most important things in my life. Philippe knows and understands this. He has children of his own. He would do the same for them, even though they’re grown.”
Harry chuckled sardonically. “I thought being grown meant being able to handle things on your own.”
Narcissa chuckled too. “That’s an illusion that children have. They think that adults know everything there is to know and can handle any situation. It’s what makes them feel safe. But we know different, don’t we?” Harry nodded. “When Draco was three… oh, I can’t tell you. I was at my wit’s end. He was… well, you know how three-year-olds are, from when Teddy was that age. He was into absolutely everything he could get his little hands on, and his magic… when he threw a tantrum I worried for every fragile object within screaming distance. I didn’t know what I was going to do. I thought I was an absolutely failure as a mother and I was convinced that I wouldn’t survive until he turned four, which was when other people told me he would calm down a bit. So I asked my mother-in-law, Audra – my mother was not someone to go to about advice, you see – what other trials lay ahead, and if I was ever going to get a moment’s peace, or if Draco was going to put me through hell in some way or another until he finally came of age. Do you know what she told me?”
“What?” Harry asked.
“She told me that what I was going through was normal, and that the first thirty years or so were the hardest. But after that, it wasn’t so bad.” She laughed at the memory, and Harry laughed with her. “I resented that answer, to be honest, but she was trying to make a point, and an important one. Parenting is difficult – that, we already knew – but it also never ends. It doesn’t matter if your children have children of their own. They still need guidance; they still have troubles. You aren’t always equipped to help them, but you always do the best you can. Because you would do anything for them, and that, usually, is enough. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Harry breathed in and out a few times, then nodded. “Yes, I think so.”
“You have people in your life who love you and want to help you Harry, with the small things and the large things. Maybe it doesn’t feel the same as having parents. Only you can know that for yourself. But it’s not… it’s not nothing. Please don’t disregard my or Molly’s offers of help because you think we’re only offering them out of courtesy. We offer them out of love, and because we want to see you thrive, and we hate to see you carry all those burdens on your own.”
Harry looked at her and nodded again. He believed her, he thought, this time. It was hard not to.
Up Next: Hermione prepares for Harry and Draco's wedding.
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