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Unstoppable	By : Thunderbird Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 14474 -:- 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
- 5
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- 7
A/N: Thank you for the reviews! I appreciate all of you folks who have been sticking with the story and letting things unfold. We've set up most of the elements at this point so things can get rolling right along now.
Fair warning, the feels are strong with this one. Given the subject matter, not surprising. But there are also some sweet Drarry moments for you here so... worth it? I certainly hope so. Enjoy!
And please keep reviewing! It makes such a difference.
Chapter 6: Soon
(Draco)

“Would you like milk or sugar?”
Draco glanced up at his aunt as she placed a mug in front of him and began pouring him tea. “No, thank you. Black is great.”
She poured herself some as well, then set the pot down and situated herself in an armchair near where Draco was already camped on her sitting room sofa.
Draco watched her closely for a moment, as this was the first time she’d remained still long enough for him to do so. When he’d first arrived she’d been fussing over some substance Teddy had gotten on his shirt (something from the boy’s extensive collection of art supplies, it appeared), and then she had to convince him to go play upstairs while she and Draco had an “important grown-up talk.” Teddy, of course, was resistant, since his favorite cousin had just arrived and it was the perfect opportunity to be read to. After she’d finally cajoled her grandson into doing as she wished, she insisted on making tea, though Draco had assured her it wasn’t necessary. But she did it anyway, as if it were a compulsion.
As she sat before him now, Draco tried to ascertain if there was anything different about her. It was possible she looked more tired than usual, but that might have been his imagination. She was the single parent to a five-year-old boy, so she always looked just the slightest bit haggard anyway. Her dark, heavily-lidded eyes, so much like her sister Bellatrix’s, held the same fortitude and intelligence they always did, and her long, raven locks were clean and well-kept, though starting to show the first signs of gray.
All in all, his aunt seemed quite like herself. He never would have known she was sick just by looking at her.
“How are you feeling?” he asked her.
She gave a small sigh. “Almost normal at the moment, actually,” she said. “The dizziness and the cramping are gone completely. And I was having some occasional sharp pain in my arms and legs, but that hasn’t shown up for a few days now.”
Draco nodded. Those were all symptoms that were normal for the early stages of the disease, but they came and went.
“I definitely notice a difference in my magic, though,” she added. “It’s not… huge. I don’t think anyone from the outside would see much of a difference. But I feel it. Spells require more effort. The more difficult ones… sometimes I can’t even get them at all on the first try. I tried to conjure a Patronus the other day, just to send a friend a quick message… took me three tries.”
“That’s normal,” Draco reassured her. “With treatment, that can improve a lot.”
Andromeda nodded. “That’s what they tell me.”
“Have you given any thought to your options, since you met with the Healers?”
To his surprise, Andromeda started laughing, and he had the feeling it was at his expense. She gave him a wry smirk. “Yes, my darling nephew,” she said drily. “I have, in fact, given it some thought.”
Draco smiled, realizing what she was getting at. Of course she had been thinking about it. It was likely all she had been thinking about.
“What I believe you were trying to ask, as delicately as possible, of course,” his aunt continued, still sounding amused, “is whether or not I’ve decided what treatment I’m going to pursue, if any. And the answer is yes. I have decided.” Her voice was more sober now. “I’m going to do the charms and the potions both. I want to throw everything I can at this. I want to buy myself as much time as possible.”
Draco nodded again. He had been almost certain that that would be what she wanted. But a small part of him had been worried that she wouldn’t want to go through with it. “I’m glad to hear that,” he said. “The first few rounds of treatment are difficult, but as your body adjusts you’ll find you actually feel a lot better. Healer Kipling told me you can expect to have a year, maybe even longer, of feeling almost completely back to normal.” Of course, the monthly treatments would still be draining, but for at least three weeks out of each month she would feel pretty good. That, in Draco’s opinion at least, made it worth it.
“Yes, Healer Kipling told me the same. And it certainly is a good reason to do it. But I’m honestly not really worried about the treatment. That will be what it is and go how it goes. But…” Her voice had gone suddenly soft. “But Teddy…”
Draco bowed his head. They had arrived at the real issue at hand, the real reason he was there.
“When I first heard the diagnosis I deluded myself into thinking that maybe I could keep him anyway,” she was saying now, true sadness in her voice for the first time that morning. “I thought that I could…” Her fingers drummed on the outside of her mug of tea as she stared down into it. “…I could just leave him with you two, while I’m receiving the treatment, and then take him back and keep him for the rest. I thought, even if I didn’t feel well, I could be well enough for him. I could make myself…” She took a shaky breath and looked at Draco. “But that’s really just selfishness, and unwillingness to let him go. Teddy deserves better than that. He deserves stability, not to be bounced back and forth from place to place. He deserves a place to call home, and parents that can take care of him all the time.” She looked at him pleadingly.
Draco reached out for her hand, and she took it. “It’s not selfish,” he said. “You love him, and you’ve taken such good care of him. You just want the best for him, and for a long time the best place for him was with you. It’s hard to imagine anything else. I understand that. But the most important thing for you right now is to have the time and the means of getting better, of letting the treatment really work. The best thing you can do for Teddy is give yourself that really good year, so that you can really be with him, not overwork yourself by taking care of him all the time.” He squeezed her hand. “Harry and I will take him. We’re ready.” He realized it was unfair, speaking for Harry when Harry actually had no idea any of this was going on, but he was sure what he was saying was right.
“Harry knows?”
Draco sighed. “No, not yet. I’m not allowed to tell him until you give me permission, of course. But I know the first thing he will say when I tell him about what’s going on, and what Teddy needs. He’ll say we should take him. I won’t even have to suggest it. He loves Teddy like he’s his own son, and so do I.”
Andromeda was crying in earnest now, though quite silently. Tears were flowing freely down her cheeks, and she brushed them away with a quick swipe of her hand. “I’m just going to miss him so much.”
Draco swallowed the lump in his throat. It wouldn’t do to break down now. Andromeda needed him. “This isn’t the end, ‘Dromeda, not by a long shot. We’ll bring him around to see you all the time, and you can pop over to us any time you like. The first few months will be hard, since you won’t be feeling very good, but then… there’s time. You still get time with him.”
Andromeda took a deep breath, then wiped her eyes again. Her voice sounded calmer as she said, “Yes, I know. There is still time. But it’s not nearly – not nearly – enough.”
“I know,” said Draco. “It’s not fair.”
“No, it isn’t. And I especially hate that this is happening for him at this age. I mean, I hate that it’s happening at all of course. But at least if he were younger, he wouldn’t really be able to understand what was going on. And if he were older, he would be mature enough to handle it. But at this age… I’m afraid it will just confuse and frighten him.”
Draco was transported, temporarily, back to a memory of when his father had taken him to see his grandfather Abraxas on his deathbed. Abraxas had been dying of a disease in the same family as Andromeda’s, in fact, and he was in the final stages.
Draco had been eight years old, and he distinctly remembered the feeling of his father’s firm hand on his back as he guided Draco into the room, towards the bed. He remembered not wanting to look, but feeling as though he had to. By that age, he knew that showing fear in these sorts of circumstances was weakness, and weakness was always unacceptable.
Draco was already familiar with the idea of death by that point, of course. They’d lost one of their house elves, Mopsy, only the year before. But this was different, seeing it. His grandfather’s skin was sallow and almost waxy, like a doll’s, and he took these horrible rattling breaths that sounded painful, like there was a violent clanging in his throat. In a strange way, though, seeing his grandfather like that somehow made his death feel less real than Mopsy’s, rather than more. Mopsy had taken care of Draco every day of his life, and her absence was deeply felt within him. Looking at his dying grandfather, it was simply as though he had transformed into something unrecognizable, something not really human. It terrified him, and made him hope that things would be over soon, for everyone’s sake. He never shared this aloud, of course. His father would have never approved of such a thought.
And then he remembered, perhaps most vividly of all, the argument that had ensued between his parents afterward. His mother thought exposing Draco to such a thing was irresponsible. “No child his age is ready for that,” she had said, her eyes a blue, icy fire. “You’ve only frightened him.”
“He needs to learn of the realities of death,” Lucius had replied with the kind of cold indifference that Draco was already used to. “When he is grown, such things will be less frightening, because he has already seen it.”
To this day, Draco still wasn’t sure whom he agreed with more on that particular issue. In a way, they were both right.
“Teddy will most certainly be confused and frightened,” Draco said to Andromeda now. “But that’s natural. There’s no real way around it, but he has a lot of adults in his life who love him and who he trusts, and we can all help him with that.”
Andromeda took that in silently, and Draco wondered if he had said the wrong thing.
“You’re right,” she said finally, and Draco let out a breath. She took his hand again. “I don’t know what I would do about this if I didn’t have you and Harry. It wouldn’t feel right, giving him to anyone else.”
“It wouldn’t feel right to us, either,” Draco agreed.
“I want you to know how happy I am, that I got the chance to reconcile with you and your mother. It has made all the difference in the world to me, these past few years. You are such a wonderful man, Draco. You’ve grown up so nicely.”
Draco wasn’t sure he could bear to take this at the moment. He held onto her hand hard as he said, “We don’t have to do this now, Aunt. There’s still so much time to say the things we need to say. I don’t want to say goodbye too soon.”
“I know,” she said. “But I need to say this now, because you are going to be taking my little boy as your own, and I need you to know how much I appreciate it, how grateful I am to you and Harry both for this, and for everything else you’ve already done. You need to know that I have absolute faith in you, that I trust you without question.”
It did, in fact, ease some of the fear within Draco, hearing that. “Thank you,” he said. He wasn’t sure he could manage much more, but he made himself say, “I’m very lucky to have known you, and Harry is also.”
She smiled at him. It was a watery smile, but it made Draco feel a little calmer. He had become a softer, more open-hearted person since the war, and beginning his relationship with Harry. But these sorts of conversations: intense, emotional, and deeply felt, were still quite hard for him. The feelings they awakened were sharp and unyielding, and they sliced right through him.
“Now,” Andromeda said, sniffing delicately, “with that out of the way we can talk logistics.”
Draco sighed inaudibly with relief and nodded. He could handle logistics. “Who else knows?” he asked.
“Right now it’s only you and my Healers.”
Draco nodded. He’d thought as much. “I’ll tell Harry this afternoon, obviously.”
“You can tell anyone you need to,” Andromeda said. “It will be common knowledge soon enough.”
“What about… my mother?”
Andromeda dropped her gaze back to her mug of tea. “That, in some ways, will be the hardest I think.”
“Would you like me to tell her?”
Andromeda shook her head. “No. I need to do it. I think it’s important that I do. I’m only hesitant because… because I know she’s leaving for France with Philippe in a few weeks and I don’t want to ruin their trip.”
Draco resisted the urge to scoff. “Don’t be absurd, ‘Dromeda. She will want to stay and support you.”
“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of. I don’t want her to put her life on hold for me. I want her to keep living it.”
“She’s basically retired and has almost nothing but leisure time,” Draco pointed out. “They can go to France later if they want. Philippe’s chateau isn’t going anywhere. She won’t be upset to put it off, not one bit. What will upset her is if you let her go to France without telling her about your illness. She’ll be absolutely furious with you.”
Andromeda sighed. “I suppose I’m terrified of everyone resenting me because now they have to work their lives around this… this thing I have. I can’t bear it if that’s what happens.”
“No one will resent you,” Draco insisted. “My mother will want to be there. It will matter to her a great deal.
Andromeda sat on that for a minute or two. “Yes, it will,” she said finally.
“Good,” Draco said, relieved. “So, you’ll let my mother know, I’ll let Harry know, and we’ll start making plans. When do you start treatment?”
“Next week,” she replied. “The exact date hasn’t been set yet, because I haven’t yet informed the Healers of my decision. But that will happen soon. And then we’ll be getting started right away, is my understanding. Which means…” She met his eyes. “You should be prepared to take Teddy within the next few days. That’s awfully soon, I know-“
“We’ll be ready,” said Draco. “And I’ll rearrange my work schedule, if I need to, to be home that day. So Teddy knows we’re all here for him. You just tell us the day and we’ll be ready.”
Andromeda nodded solemnly.
“The other thing we have to decide,” Draco went on, “is when we tell Teddy what’s happening. I think it should be sooner rather than later, give him some time to adjust to the idea. Harry and I will have some time tomorrow. Maybe we could come over and have the conversation then, with all four of us.”
“All right,” said Andromeda. “That would be fine.” She swallowed. “What… what do we tell him?”
Draco thought about that for a moment, about all of the sick children he had treated in the past year or so, and what they had needed from him. “We tell him as much of the truth as we think he can handle,” he said. “And we hope it’s the right amount.”
Andromeda stared at him, and Draco wished he could give her a better answer, that he knew exactly what to do in a situation like this. But the truth was, there wasn’t really a good answer to that question. There was nothing about it that was going to be easy, and that was simply a reality. It just had to be faced head on, like most difficult things.
Stomping on the stairs startled both adults from their silent thoughts, and soon Teddy appeared at the bottom of the staircase. Draco saw Andromeda quickly wipe her eyes.
Teddy looked at both of them for a moment, then entered the room without a word and climbed up on the sofa to join Draco. He sat very close, resting his head under Draco’s arm, and Draco ran a hand through his hair and gave the top of his head a kiss. Teddy was a naturally affectionate child, but he became especially clingy when he was upset or frightened. Draco suspected that Teddy sensed something odd was going on, even if he didn’t know what that something was. Draco tightened his arm around the boy, offering him reassurance he couldn’t give verbally, and felt Teddy nuzzle against his ribcage.
“All right there, Teddy?” Draco asked. “Did you have fun playing in your room?”
“Yeah,” Teddy said, sounding a little subdued. “Nana got me these new crayons and when I color with them in my coloring book it makes the pictures come alive.”
“Is that so?” Draco said with a smile, and Teddy nodded vigorously. “That sounds pretty cool. Do you want to show me?”
“Ummm, not right now. Maybe later,” the boy replied.
“I bet I know why you came downstairs, little one,” Andromeda said, giving him a warm smile. “You’re getting hungry for lunch, aren’t you?”
Draco felt Teddy nod against his ribs.
“What would you like?” his grandmother asked him.
“Chicken nuggets,” said Teddy, without hesitation.
“Ah, should have guessed,” she said with a grin. “That’s all he wants to eat nowadays. Chicken nuggets.”
“They’re good,” Teddy insisted.
Draco laughed. He had heard of this particular Muggle food, though he found it a bit strange, especially since the brand Andromeda bought had the pieces shaped into little dinosaurs, which seemed a bit random. He could only guess that Muggle children must really like dinosaurs, in the same way that magical children liked dragons, unicorns, and hippogriffs, and that somehow having their food shaped like them made them want to eat it more.
“All right, but I’m making carrot sticks and apple slices as well, and you must eat them all. Do you promise?”
“I promise,” said Teddy.
Andromeda looked at Draco. “Would you like to join us for lunch? I promise to make the two of us something other than chicken nuggets.”
“I can’t I’m afraid,” Draco replied, aware that Teddy was looking up at him hopefully. “I promised Harry I’d be back in time for lunch.” It was how he had gotten Harry to let him leave the house that morning in the first place, since he couldn’t tell his boyfriend where he was going or why. The only thing that seemed to placate Harry was the idea that he would soon be learning what this big secret was that Draco was keeping from him. “And as you know he and I have some important things to talk about.”
“You can’t stay just a little longer?” Teddy asked, and Draco made the mistake of looking down into his cousin’s pleading eyes, which he had decided to make sky blue that day. “We didn’t even get to read a story. We didn’t get to do anything.”
“I know, Ted, I’m sorry,” Draco said, running a loving hand over Teddy’s head. “But I promise you’re going to see me again really soon, all right?”
“Can I come stay with you and Harry soon?”
Draco resisted the urge to look at Andromeda, to see how she had taken that question, instead keeping his eyes on the five-year-old next to him. “Of course, little man. Whenever you want.”
He soon bid goodbye to both his aunt and cousin and made for home with a heavy heart. He was not particularly looking forward to this conversation with Harry, if only because sharing bad news was never enjoyable, and it would make Harry sad to know the truth.
But the truth in question had been weighing on Draco since the morning he’d learned it, and he had to admit that actually being able to get such a thing off his chest for once was something he welcomed. Since beginning his residency at St. Mungo’s, Draco had had to carry a number of secrets. Confidentiality and discretion were not merely admired there; they were required, seen as one of the most important aspects of the job. Draco had known this going in, of course, but he hadn’t thought much of it. Of course he would protect the identity of his patients, avoid talking about the details of their cases from those he knew. It wasn’t any business of Harry’s, or Blaise’s, or Pansy’s to know what symptoms his patients were experiencing, what treatment option they had decided to go with, or what the results were. Why would he ever feel a need to share them?
But then he discovered something he hadn’t thought of. What happened when he learned a detail of Healing history that pertained to a friend? The community of wizarding Britain was in fact not a very large one, and basically everyone he knew would come to St. Mungo’s if they required treatment, which meant that Draco was constantly learning things about his friends that he couldn’t share with other people, things he didn’t really want to know himself.
Most of them were fairly innocuous, thankfully, like how his old Charms professor, Filius Flitwick, had had a bit of a scare last May when he had to come in for some testing, only to discover that it was just some residual magic from a poorly cast charm from one of his students, or how Pansy discovered over the summer that a certain formula of Pregnancy Prevention Potion made her hallucinate quite frighteningly, and she was to avoid it at all costs. These were not things that Draco saw as being anyone else’s business, and so he had no qualms about following the rules and keeping such knowledge to himself.
There were also things he learned, however, that he found very difficult to keep to himself. Back in April, for example, he’d happened to see a potion prescription, just in passing, made out to Vesper Kemp, for a potion that would terminate a pregnancy. And then, only two weeks later, Vesper and Blaise began telling their friends that they had split up.
He hadn’t said a word to anyone about it, not even Hannah, though technically he could have gotten away with that, since she was a fellow Healer and all. But it didn’t feel right, somehow. It felt like gossip, especially since he knew no other details of the situation. He hadn’t seen Vesper’s chart, only the prescription. He didn’t know if Blaise knew about the pregnancy, if he had encouraged the abortion or was angry about it. He didn’t know if it was the reason they had broken up, or if they were already on the outs and she had chosen to end the pregnancy because the relationship was going to end.
Draco didn’t know anything, really, except that Vesper had been pregnant (she would have had to be, to be able to receive the prescription in the first place), and that she was pregnant no longer. Everything else was guesswork, and he had no one to speculate about it with. So he had just locked the secret up tight and tried not to think about it.
He was glad he wouldn’t have to do the same with Andromeda’s illness. That secret had been weighing on him quite a bit, and he was carrying enough already. It would feel good to share the burden with someone else for a change.
When he arrived home by floo he was immediately hit with a wonderfully savory aroma, and his stomach grumbled. He made his way towards the kitchen, knowing what he would find there.
Sure enough, Harry stood at the range, dressed simply in a blue t-shirt and black jeans that hugged him in all the right places. He turned to look at Draco, offering a smile that had warmth blooming in Draco’s chest, and it eased the ache, just a little, from his conversation with his aunt.
“You’re just in time,” said Harry. “Lunch is almost ready. I made chicken stew. I hope you don’t mind. I had a craving.”
“Not at all,” Draco replied softly, coming further into the room to join Harry at the stove. He slid his arms around Harry’s waist, pressing Harry’s back to his front, and smiled when he heard the brunet give an appreciative hum. Harry was solid and warm, and Draco pressed closer to him, nuzzling into his neck, his hands exploring the hard muscles of Harry’s stomach and chest. He rested one of those hands over Harry’s heart for a moment, and the steady beat of it against his palm calmed him. Finally, he was home.
They remained that way for a few minutes in silence, neither of them moving, save for when Harry stirred the pot of stew in front of him or lifted the lid to check on the rice that was steaming away on another burner. His other hand remained ever on Draco’s own, their fingers interlaced together.
Harry knew something was wrong. He must have known it, what with the way Draco had been behaving the past few days. He knew it was something bad. But he seemed willing to be patient and let Draco take quiet solace in his mere presence for the time being.
When the rice was done, Harry gave Draco’s hand a squeeze and said, “Lunch is ready. Why don’t you grab us some drinks? I’ll have pumpkin juice.”
“All right,” Draco said, then gave the back of Harry’s neck a couple of soft kisses before pulling away.
They prepared the table in silence, Draco pouring each of them glasses of juice and laying out napkins and silverware, while Harry scooped generous helpings of rice and stew into two bowls and brought them to the kitchen table. Draco thanked Harry quietly as his bowl was set in front of him, and took the time to enjoy a couple of bites before he looked up at Harry, who he knew was watching him intently.
“This is delicious,” said Draco. “Thanks.”
Harry didn’t respond, still watching him. Draco took another bite of stew.
“You aren’t going to eat?” Draco asked him, noticing that Harry hadn’t even picked up his spoon yet.
“I was hoping we were going to talk. I was hoping that I was finally going to get to hear what has been going on.”
Draco sighed. He could understand Harry’s impatience, but now that they were here, together… he wasn’t even sure how to begin. “You should eat a little first. You must be hungry.” He knew Harry had gone for a run after breakfast, as was his usual weekend routine.
“Not really,” Harry said drily. “All this anticipation has kind of ruined my appetite.”
Harry was annoyed with him, or perhaps simply frustrated in general. Draco put his spoon down. “Very well,” he said. “I went to see Andromeda this morning.”
Harry released a heavy breath. “About what?”
Draco licked his lips, where some salty broth from the stew still clung, and realized the best thing to do was come out and say it. “She came to St. Mungo’s for some testing this past week, because she’d been experiencing some symptoms that were troubling her.” He glanced at Harry, to see that he was listening with rapt attention. “It turns out… well… it was a good thing she did, because as it turns out she has an illness called Perniciosus Totus. It’s a degenerative illness, in which little stray bits of her magic get released into her body, causing her internal organs to break down over time. There are a number of different types, mainly differentiated by which organs are attacked. Some types attack only one or two, some attack many. In Andromeda’s case, pretty much every organ is affected, to some degree, even her magical core.”
He paused there, letting Harry absorb that.
“What…” Harry cleared his throat. “What can be done?”
“There is treatment for it. She will come in to the hospital once a month for Regeneration Charms, which stimulate her magic into helping her organs repair themselves. She’ll also take a regimen of potions, one of which will help with the regeneration process and a couple that work to block the harmful stray magic and slow the damage to her organs. It’s a bit intense, all in all, but Andromeda has decided to go for all of it, since it can extend her life considerably.”
“For how long? How long will it extend her life?”
“Overall she has two to three years, her Healer estimates.”
Harry released another breath. “That’s not very long,” he managed.
“No, but it’s much better than if she got no treatment at all.”
Harry shook his head, obviously trying to take it all in. “So this… this is terminal? I mean, there’s nothing to do… there’s no cure?”
Draco shook his head. “There is treatment, but there is no cure.”
Harry placed his elbows on the table, steepling his hands together and resting his face against them for a moment, his eyes closed. Draco waited.
“How…” Harry began. His hands dropped, and he looked at Draco. “What caused this? Was it something… like an exposure… or something from the war? A bad spell? What makes someone get this illness?”
“It’s nothing she did,” Draco said gently. “And it’s nothing anyone else did. We don’t really know why witches and wizards get this illness. It doesn’t appear to be hereditary. My grandfather Abraxas died of Perniciosus that attacked his heart and lungs, and I haven’t heard of any other Malfoy in living memory who’s had it. It just… it just happens sometimes. People just… they get sick. It just happens.”
Harry nodded. “All right,” he said softly, sounding a bit far away. “All right.” He seemed to come back to himself again. “What about Teddy?”
“That’s the other thing,” Draco said carefully. “This treatment… it involves time spent at the hospital, plus a lot of rest at home, especially for the first three months or so. Then she will feel quite good for about a year, a year and a half. And then the charms and potions will start to lose their effectiveness, and her organs will start degenerating faster than they can be repaired. And at that point she will start to decline, and will require at home care. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, of course but… with the amount of time and energy that she has to focus on this treatment, it really would be best for Teddy to live somewhere else, in the care of someone else, starting immediately. Andromeda and I have talked and we’ve agreed-“
“We’ll take him,” Harry interrupted.
Draco couldn’t help a small smile. “Yes, that was our thinking too, so long as you’re up for it.”
“Of course,” said Harry. “He’s… I mean, we’ve been there his whole life, more than anyone. He’s ours, too. He always has been, even if he didn’t live with us.”
Draco felt warmth surge through him at that. Ours.
“I agree,” he replied. “Obviously it’s going to be an adjustment, but I think… I think we can handle it.”
Harry nodded his head absently, going silent again, this time for a long time. Draco knew this was necessary, that Harry needed time to process all he had just learned. When he needed to be, Harry was certainly quick to action, and in everyday conversation had quite the ready wit, Draco had been pleasantly surprised to discover early on. But when it came to the bigger things, the things that required a great deal of thought, Harry did best when he was given the room to really think and consider. Draco had observed this back at Hogwarts, during their 8^th year. When asked a question in class Harry was rarely ever immediately ready with an answer, like Hermione was. But if you gave him time, and didn’t put pressure on him, he could answer, and usually his response turned out to be much more thoughtful and interesting than his “faster” peers. It was something Draco had learned to appreciate about his partner. He was beginning to discover, as he experienced more of the world, that true thoughtfulness was actually quite hard to come by.
So for the time being he was content to leave Harry to his silence and simply observe him as the brunet stared off into the distance, his mind in motion but the rest of him quite still. As Draco’s eyes traced along the features of his face, the shape of his hands, the lines of his body, he was forcefully reminded of the gravity of his love for this man. It wasn’t something he had really ever forgotten, of course, but rather something he was so used to that he didn’t give it much thought anymore.
In a lot of ways, the form of his love for Harry had changed in the years they had been together. Early on his love, his desire, his need for Harry made him feel wild and unbridled, like he was trying to fly on a broom he didn’t have full control over. He remembered feeling a bit wobbly and off-kilter, terrified and exhilarated at the same time, holding on tight for dear life and hoping he wasn’t going to slip off and plummet to his doom. Perhaps that was all a bit dramatic, but it was what it felt like, because the stakes were so high. Harry was everything he wanted, yet nothing he expected. He knew losing him would be the most painful thing he’d ever experienced, yet he also knew if anyone was worth that kind of risk, it was Harry.
And, oh, how that risk had paid off. Because though Harry was intense, and emotional, and sometimes even temperamental, he was also steady, and loyal, and true. And after a while Draco found himself on solid ground again, as their love settled, solidified, became something of substance.
He certainly didn’t want to lose the passion of those early days, and he certainly worked to preserve it. A relationship needed passion. But he couldn’t help but feel that the kind of love they had now was even better than that. It was something he could count on, like a house finally settling onto its foundation, or, better yet, dye finally suffusing into every fiber in a ream of cloth, taking it over completely, becoming it. Harry and turned him porous, and Draco’s love for Harry had seeped into every part of him, into his skin, the sinews of his muscles, the gaps between his tendons, and through the bone, into the delicate tubes of his marrow, the deepest parts of himself, always there, always active, a steady, sweet hum in his blood. A part of him, inseparable from the rest.
“The key is, I think,” Harry said finally, pulling Draco out of his meditation, “to make sure that we disrupt Teddy’s routine as little as possible. The transition will be hard enough on him as it is, without him having to change the basic schedule of his day-to-day life. I think we have to be very careful about that.”
Draco nodded. “I agree.”
“So, he needs to do and have all the things he usually does and has. He needs to go to nursery school at 8:30 as usual, and be picked up at three, and have time at home with one of us after, and eat dinner as usual, and be in bed by eight. That’s his day. The weekends can be more flexible, obviously, but I think during the week, we stick to the routine.”
“All right.” Draco couldn’t help a warm smile as he watched his boyfriend considering what had to be done.
Harry sighed. “It means I’m going to have to rearrange my work schedule. I’ll have to leave the office every day in time to pick him up from school. I know we have the option of him staying there until five but I just don’t… I don’t want him to feel abandoned.”
“I think that would be best for him,” Draco agreed. “But is it possible for you, to change your work hours like that?”
“I don’t see it being too much of a problem. Naomi may be my boss but she essentially leaves me to myself, seeing as how I do all the day-to-day management of the youth programs essentially on my own. I’ll just have to make sure I don’t schedule any meetings after three, and if I still have work to get done I take it home with me to finish in the evenings, after Teddy’s gone to bed.”
“He can also play on his own sometimes, to let you get things done.” Teddy was very good at entertaining himself, and liked to be alone sometimes.
“That’s true. Honestly I think the only real sacrifice will be that I won’t be able to visit the after school program anymore, since it will be during the exact time that I have to collect Teddy. I’ll have to find someone else on my team to check in on them occasionally.”
Draco frowned. That was a shame. He knew how much Harry liked being hands-on with the programs. “Well, I’ll be home some days during the week. Maybe we can work it out that I can pick up Teddy those days, so you can check in on the program then.”
“That’s true,” said Harry, sounding surprised, and it made Draco laugh.
“I am going to be around you know. You’re not going to do this all on your own.” He reached out and took Harry’s hand.
Harry ducked his head, smiling. “Of course. I knew that. I just know how hard you work and this will be more work on top of that.”
“I’m ready,” Draco said, giving Harry’s hand a squeeze so the brunet would look at him. “I want this. It’s like you said. He’s ours, too, right?”
The look Harry gave him was so full of warmth and love that it was hard not to leap across the table to give him a thorough snog. But it was hardly the time for that, given everything.
Harry, however, seemed to disagree, because he stood suddenly and made his way around the kitchen table, taking a seat close to the blond. Draco watched him closely as a hand came up to cup his face and Harry leaned in for a kiss. It was soft, and tender, and chaste, and hardly the ravishing that Draco’d had in mind. But it was perfect as it was.
Harry pulled away, just by a few inches, and stared into Draco’s eyes, his fingers lacing through the hair at the back of Draco’s head. Draco stared back, waiting, knowing, just from the discerning look in Harry’s eyes, that he wanted to say something.
“I’m sorry.”
Draco blinked at him, confused. “For what?”
Harry shook his head. “Not for something. I’m not apologizing. I’m saying I’m sorry. I… feel sorrow. I’m sorry that this is happening. And you’ve had to carry it around for most of the week, unable to tell me, or really anyone, and that must have been hard.”
Draco let out a breath. Trust Harry to think of that, to think of him, even right after hearing such upsetting news. He wanted to reply, but he found his throat suddenly tight.
Harry was running a hand soothingly across Draco’s chest as he spoke again. “And this is your aunt. She’s your family. I just can’t imagine… you must be sad, and angry, and scared, and you’ve had to hold all that in. It’s not fair. You shouldn’t have had to deal with all of that alone.”
Draco felt a sting in his eyes and fought it. Dammit, Harry. He had been holding it all in, and he’d been doing quite a good job of it too, at least until Harry’s simple yet incisive observation had the flimsy pretense that he was fine – just fine – crumbling.
“It’s all right, Draco,” Harry said softly. “You’re allowed to be sad. So am I. We can… be sad, and angry, and scared together, right?”
Draco reached out and clutched at Harry’s neck, pulling him so their foreheads rested together. Hadn’t this been what he wanted, to share the burden? He had thought so, but it wasn’t always easy, even after being with someone for five years, someone strong enough to handle it. Because even now, after all the work he’d done, he could still hear his father’s voice in his head.
Men handle their own problems, Draco. True strength comes the day you learn to only rely on yourself.
But his father was wrong. He had been wrong about a lot of things. And Draco never, ever wanted to live like that. So he gave in, resting his head on Harry’s shoulder, settling himself against the vibrating warmth of his partner’s pulse, and, finally, let go.
Up Next: Hermione and Ron have fun at the gala with their friends, then go home and have some fun on their own.
Dedicated_Reader: Thanks! Lol yeah, Harry may be a grownup now, but we certainly wouldn’t want him to lose his sassiness, would we? :)
LadyShire: Thank you! I’m glad I’ve done a good job of sucking you into the story so far. That was the goal! And sorry for the wait. I try to make it less than a week between each update but I’m writing as I go so I’m a little at the mercy of my muse. I appreciate you following along anyway and reviewing. It means a lot!
smn: Thanks!! Yeah, Fawley’s a douche. Luckily Harry knows what he’s doing. And I’m glad you appreciated the shrimp comment. Hermione is doing her best to be her normal self but, as you can imagine, she’s thinking about her parents a lot. More on that soon! And I’ll keep the “Up Next” feature around, since you’re enjoying it. Thanks for the feedback!
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Unstoppable