Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Starting Again	By : Sasunarufan13 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 4210 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter nor make any profit of it. J.K. Rowling owns it

Chapter List
- 1-Starting Again
- 1
Author's note: Just something random that popped up in my head a few weeks ago. It doesn't relate to any of my stories, in case you were wondering about that. It stands on it own.
Warnings: Scorpius' pov; foul language; slash; past infidelity; MPreg; smidgen of drama
I hope you enjoy this oneshot!

Starting again
"Remember, Scorpius, you can always call me if you need to," Mother murmured while they made their way along the long, winding path to Malfoy Manor.
The eight year old boy nodded mutely and the hand around his suitcase clutched the handle tighter. He had just spent a week with his mother, Astoria Greengrass, and would – as the agreement stipulated – spend the next week with his father, Draco Malfoy and his new partner.
Six months ago, his parents went through a divorce and while both adults kept their agreement, every time they met up a strained, icy atmosphere would clung to them until one of them left again. Both were still rather sore about the divorce; even his father, despite being the one who initiated the procedure.
They arrived in front of the majestic, white door and mother released his hand to knock once on it.
When the door swung open, Scorpius noticed his mother's mouth transforming into a subtle grimace when she came face to face with the person she least wanted to see.
"Hey, buddy, you're early," a dark haired man, clad in just a blue sweater and dark trousers, greeted him with a small smile.
"Scorpius is right on time. Perhaps the hormones are messing with your memory?" Mother suggested airily; her ice blue eyes glinting coldly.
Dark green eyes gazed at her calmly. "That's possible. Either way, it doesn't matter much. I'm glad to see you again, Scorpius."
Scorpius nodded silently and felt mother's hand descending on his shoulder, keeping him immobile.
"Where is Draco?"
The man barely batted an eye at the distrustful tone. "He's upstairs in his office, conducting a Floo call with one of his clients. He'll be down in a few minutes. Do you want to talk to him?"
Mother pursed her lips together and removed her hand from his shoulder. "No, there is no need. You can tell him that I'm expecting my son on my doorstep no later than eight a.m. next week." She turned around, but not before casting a mocking glance at the man's midsection. "I hope that won't be too much to remember."
He smiled affably. "Don't worry, I won't forget."
"See you next week, Scorpius," Mother said in a low voice to him and after throwing another sharp glance at the man waiting in the doorway, she left silently.
Harry Potter glanced down at him as soon as mother had disappeared from sight. "Well, come on in. You'll get cold if you keep standing outside," he murmured and stepped aside.
Scorpius entered the manor where he now stayed for only two weeks every month and started to remove his jacket and scarf. While he fussed with his stubborn shoelaces, Mr. Potter – the boy still couldn't bring himself to call him Harry or even 'dad' like father had suggested – called for one of the house elves to bring his suitcase upstairs.
Scorpius had barely pulled on his house slippers, when familiar footsteps descending the marble staircase made him look up automatically.
Father offered him a small smile. "Good afternoon, Scorpius."
"Good afternoon, father," Scorpius murmured politely and hovered awkwardly near the front door, not certain what he was supposed to do now.
He had lived in this manor for nearly eight years and yet it felt as if he was entering a stranger's home every time mother dropped him off.
"I know it is already past lunch time, but would you mind joining us for a quick snack?" Father asked and beckoned him forwards. "Your mother mentioned you have taken up fencing lessons. Perhaps you can tell us about them?"
"All right," Scorpius managed to bring out after wetting his lips discreetly.
Father led them to one of the smaller rooms, which contained several armchairs and couches which felt as if they would swallow you up and a pale blue rug covering the floor. A glass coffee table was placed in the middle of the room and held three thick, scented candles. Three smaller, round tables were placed next to the armchairs and four large paintings, depicting nature, and two large bookcases filled to the brim with historical books filled up the room.
At the moment the long, white curtains were partly drawn and a large fire filled the marble fireplace and provided a pleasant warmth.
Another house elf – one of the older ones – was already setting down plates with small snacks and steaming mugs filled with some kind of herbal tea on the coffee table when they entered the room.
"Here," Father murmured to Mr. Potter and directed him to one particular armchair which was least likely to swallow someone up. "Sit down here; this chair will be easier for you to get up again."
Mr. Potter narrowed his eyes. "Are you making fun of me?" he demanded to know, but didn't put up a fuss when father softly pushed him down to sit.
Father pecked him quickly on his cheek. "I would never," he said solemnly, but mirth was dancing in his steel grey eyes.
Mr. Potter huffed, but didn't retort; instead he accepted the mug with a tea the elves specially brewed for him and took a small sip of it.
"So, Scorpius, how many times a week do you attend this class?" Father asked curiously, once they were all seated.
Scorpius blinked and forced himself to focus on the conversation. His parents had never been very affectionate with each other – not even during their marriage – so it still took him by surprise and at times even flustered him a bit when he saw his father hugging Mr. Potter or kissing him. Even a chaste kiss on the cheek was something that Scorpius wasn't accustomed to seeing his father do that.
"Two times a week, because I'm still a beginner," Scorpius replied and selected a vanilla biscuit from the plate in front of him. "The more advanced students have classes three to five times a week."
"What made you decide to start fencing classes?" Mr. Potter asked curiously and leant over to place his mug on the table.
Scorpius shifted a bit on his armchair and fiddled with the ear of his mug. "I thought it would be interesting," he mumbled. His fingers twitched slightly and a couple of crumbs landed on his trousers. "Grandfather said it would help me concentrate better."
Mr. Potter hummed thoughtfully, but didn't speak up again for which the young boy was grateful. It wasn't that he hated Mr. Potter – the man was very nice and genuinely seemed interested in whatever Scorpius had to say, but he couldn't help but recall his mother's angered speech about how Mr. Potter was out to steal her son from her and how his father would be sorry he had let himself be 'enchanted by the Halfblood whore'. Scorpius didn't really understand the last word and he hadn't dared to ask the meaning either, as it was clear mother hadn't really intended him to hear that.
Every time he returned to her house, she asked what Mr. Potter had done and said and it confused the blond boy. Despite being the indirect cause of his parents' divorce, he didn't hate Mr. Potter, but he didn't dare to like him either, because that felt like a betrayal to his mother.
It was all too confusing for the boy.

They had been talking for half an hour – well, he and his father had been doing most of the talking as Mr. Potter seemed content to just listen – when a house elf popped into the room and announced that there was a Floo call for Mr. Potter.
"Do you know who?" Mr. Potter asked and set his mug back down.
The house elf nodded. "Miss Granger, Master Potter. Missus is seeming worried."
"All right, I'll be right there," Mr. Potter muttered and heaved himself out of the chair.
"Why would Granger be worried?" Father asked and narrowed his eyes warily.
Mr. Potter rolled his eyes and brought a hand to his back, rubbing it absentmindedly. "Neville must have told her about my visit yesterday – or most likely, he was forced to tell her." He shook his head.
"Is there something wrong?" Father inquired sharply.
"Nothing in particular," Mr. Potter murmured and made his way to the door, before father could grab his arm. He casted a peculiar glance towards the older blond. "Only that it can happen any day now, so we should be prepared."
With that he left to accept the Floo call from his friend.
Father inhaled sharply and pinched the bridge of his nose for a few seconds, murmuring something harshly underneath his breath.
"Father? Is … is something wrong?" Scorpius asked hesitatingly. Mr. Potter didn't seem worried, but his father looked ready to jump up and pace around.
Slowly father shook his head and he lowered his hand, his breath coming out calmly again. "No, not really. I suppose it's good news in some way," he murmured and sounded distracted. "We've been waiting for a week already, so I guess this is good news."
Scorpius nodded slowly, taking another sip from his tea; hoping that the trembling of his hand wasn't that visible.
After a while, father had to go back to his work and Scorpius decided to go to his room to check whether the elves had put everything away correctly.
He passed Mr. Potter on the stairs, who smiled at him distractedly before he disappeared into the room again where his father was still seated.
Despite knowing better, Scorpius involuntarily halted on the next step when he heard Mr. Potter talking. His voice drifted over through the open door.
"Draco, there is nothing to worry about."
Father scoffed and Scorpius could hear feet shuffling over the rug. "Nothing to worry about? You can't tell me I can't worry about you when you're in this state. What did Longbottom say?"
Mr. Potter sighed softly. "I've already progressed to five centimetres apparently. The potion he gave me two weeks ago kicked in finally."
A sharp intake of breath followed that admission. "So it can happen any day now?"
"Yes."
"Well, that settles it then," Father stated firmly. "You're not going to leave this Manor until …"
Footsteps neared the open door.
Scorpius decided to stop eavesdropping before he was caught and hurried upstairs, his heart tumbling funnily in his chest.

The next day nothing out of the ordinary happened. While father finished some urgent business, Mr. Potter helped him out with his regular homework. As befitting of an heir to one of the oldest Pureblood lines, Scorpius had several tutors who taught him in the art of duelling, potions, charms and transfiguration. Mr. Potter admitted readily that he wasn't good at potions, but he offered his help in checking over Scorpius' essays for charms and transfiguration – thereby also editing his spelling and grammar mistakes – and gave advice about the best duelling stands and even taught him some new spells.
"Just don't let your dad know I taught you these." Mr. Potter winked after teaching him a spell that would make a person's hair grow out and wrap around the victim to stop him from moving.
"I won't," Scorpius promised and couldn't hold back the small smile blooming up on his face. Mr. Potter didn't treat him like an ignorant child – like mother was still wont to do on several occasions – and didn't become annoyed when Scorpius didn't immediately grasp a new concept in duelling, unlike his instructor, who seemed hell bent on assuming that because Scorpius was a Malfoy, he was arrogant and difficult to teach. On other times, however, his instructor seemed to believe that he was an utter failure and had actually once murmured out loud how an esteemed family like the Malfoys had produced a mediocre person like him.
That had hurt a lot, Scorpius admitted and shifted his feet into the correct stance when Mr. Potter corrected him softly.
It was funny and weird how he learnt more from Mr. Potter during the few hours he worked on his homework, than from his tutors during the many hours he spent together with them.
Would it be presumptuous of him to ask Mr. Potter to take over his duelling class? The older man seemed a lot more experienced than his own tutor and hadn't his father always said that Malfoys only wanted and needed the best?
Scorpius lowered his practice wand – he was still too young for a real wand to his great disappointment – and gathered his courage, but before he could ask Mr. Potter to take over his duelling class, he noticed how a quick grimace of pain flashed across Mr. Potter's face and he leant against the wall.
"Are you okay?" Scorpius asked tentatively. Should he call for a house elf or find his father?
Mr. Potter took a deep breath and straightened his back as much as he could. He smiled reassuringly. "Yes, don't worry. Just a cramp."
Scorpius nodded; his eyebrows furrowed.
"All right, let's see how many spells you can recognize if I show you …"

On Monday night, Scorpius was startled awake by the sudden rush of footsteps running past his bedroom. Sleepily he blinked and turned his head to the right. Squinting, he managed to make out that it was barely two o'clock in the morning.
Who could possibly be up at this late hour and in such a rush as well?
Curiosity growing, he slipped out of his bed and padded over to the closed door. Silence greeted him.
Eyebrows furrowed slightly, he opened his door and looked around. Deeper down the hallway, a small beam of light slipped out of a room, of which the door was ajar.
That was the room father shared with Mr. Potter.
Before he realised what he was doing, he had already left his room and he shuffled on bare feet to the bedroom, guided by the weak beam of light.
Mr. Potter was sitting up in bed, his feet firmly on the floor. He was taking deep, controlled breaths and a red flush covered his cheeks; the large white shirt he was wearing was sticking to his skin as if he had been sweating profusely for quite some time already.
Involuntarily Scorpius' gaze was drawn to the wet spot on the bed right behind Mr. Potter's back.
"Scorpius, why are you awake?" Mr. Potter asked, his voice rough. "Did your dad wake you up?"
Hastily Scorpius returned his eyes back to the man, feeling strangely guilty. "Ye-yes. I heard him rushing past my room." He took a step closer, standing on the threshold now. "Are – are you all right?"
Mr. Potter didn't answer him at first; he stood up when a house elf with dark brown hair appeared in the room and switched out the soaked bed sheets for fresh, dry ones. As soon as the bed was changed, the house elf disappeared again, taking the dirty sheets with him.
"Define 'all right'," Mr. Potter smiled weakly and then shook his head quickly when Scorpius shot him a worried look. "It's nothing to worry about, Scorpius. You can go back to … Hngh!" He bent almost double, clutching his full stomach tightly. His eyes were closed and his jaw tightened, as if he was trying to keep his screams inside.
One moment, Scorpius stood still in the threshold and the next, he was standing next to Mr. Potter; his hands awkwardly hovering above his stomach, not certain whether his touch would be welcomed.
His brain finally pieced together the pieces of the puzzle and he gasped out loud. "Is she coming?" he whispered, as if a louder voice would make it worse for Mr. Potter.
"Yes, she is," Mr. Potter huffed and opened his eyes, his breathing regulating itself again. "And if my luck still holds, she'll be out soon."
"I wouldn't bet on it."
Scorpius started when father's voice drifted over to them. He turned around and saw his father holding a piece of paper in his hand.
Father pursed his lips and placed the paper on the nightstand. "Seven centimetres, Harry."
"Crap, I thought I was at least on eight by now," Mr. Potter sighed and clucked his tongue annoyed. "It broke, though, so doesn't that mean it should go faster now?"
Father snorted and approached them. "I wouldn't count on it. Astoria was in labour for another ten hours after hers broke and when it broke, she was already at eight centimetres."
Mr. Potter groaned annoyed. "Merlin, I hope I'll be more lucky then. I've been having contractions since dinner and I'm fed up with them already."
"Why on earth didn't you say anything?" Father hissed angrily.
"What was there to say?" Mr. Potter scowled. "What would you have done if I told you about them?"
Father opened his mouth and then frowned, looking conflicted.
"Yeah, exactly," Mr. Potter snorted.
Father sighed exasperatedly and then glanced at Scorpius. "Scorpius, sorry for waking you. You can go back to sleep now."
"But …" Scorpius looked back at Mr. Potter, who seemed both fed up and tired at the same time.
Mr. Potter noticed his conflicted look and smiled tiredly. "Go on, Scorpius. There is no need for all of us to be awake."
"But she …"
"It will still be a while before she's here," Father said softly and he gave Scorpius' tousled hair a quick caress. "You can catch some sleep in the meantime. We'll wake you up once she has arrived, all right?"
Scorpius kept wavering, biting his lip. Sleep was tugging at his unconsciousness, but he didn't want to give in. He knew he couldn't do much here – he was probably being in the way, but he was reluctant to leave for some reason.
His eyes were drawn again to Mr. Potter's stomach – six months ago, when he first met him in real life, his stomach had been relatively flat. Now, it was clearly rounded and big. Mr. Potter had been uncomfortable with his belly for a month now and the blond boy figured that the man would be glad to finally be rid of it after today.
Although, despite Mr. Potter's obvious annoyance, his hands were still stroking his belly lovingly, so Scorpius figured he wasn't that irritated.
But then, why would he be when he was expecting Scorpius' half-sister and was obviously looking forward to having her?
Father had told him from the very beginning that he would be getting a sibling soon. At that time, they hadn't known yet that it would be a girl, so father had just informed him that he would be having a baby brother or sister in six months. That had apparently been one of the reasons why his parents divorced: the discovery that Mr. Potter was carrying father's child.
During the past few months, Scorpius hadn't really thought about the baby growing inside Mr. Potter's body, but …
"Can – can I stay here while I sleep?" Scorpius asked and hurried to add when father opened his mouth, "I'll stay out of the way, I promise!"
"What do you think, Harry?" Father asked and leant against the bed.
Mr. Potter waved his hand haphazardly. "I don't mind. Can't promise I'll be completely quiet, though," he said and looked at Scorpius apologetically.
"'S not a problem," Scorpius muttered shyly and shuffled over to the other side of the bed.
"All right, you can stay here then until it's time," Father murmured and tucked him inside the large bed, covering his body with the heavy bed sheets.
Scorpius turned to lay down on his side and while he did manage to doze off, he was still aware of Mr. Potter softly cursing when he was hit with a contraction and his father murmuring soothing words. After a while, he became aware of Mr. Potter walking around slowly, pausing every now and then. Scorpius didn't know exactly why he was walking around – wouldn't it be easier to just sit down? – but he figured there had to be some kind of reason for it. Maybe he could ask later, when everything had passed.

"Shit, Draco, it's getting worse," Mr. Potter groaned a couple of hours later.
Scorpius was still in that state between dreaming and awaking, but his sub consciousness picked up the hushed conversation, while he burrowed himself deeper into the sheets.
"Five minutes apart," Father murmured. "Maybe your luck is indeed holding out. I don't think it'll be long before you can start pushing."
"It better not be long anymore!" Mr. Potter groused out. "I thought the Cruciatus curse was bad – shit!" He gasped loudly and a pained whimper escaped him. "I just want her out of me!"
"Soon, baby," Father whispered. The crinkle of paper was audible. "Ah! Ten centimetres. I'm going to call Longbottom again and say he needs to come. Go lie down; I'll be right back."
"Fine," Mr. Potter murmured tiredly and the next moment, Scorpius was pulled back from his sleepy state when the mattress dipped down.
"Is it time?" Scorpius yawned and sat up, rubbing a hand over his eyes.
"Yeah," Mr. Potter replied and his hand was rubbing over his stomach, his breathing strained. "It won't be long anymore now."
"Scorpius, can you go to your room for now?" Father entered the bedroom again, followed by a sandy haired man with friendly, blue eyes. "I'll come get you when she's born."
Scorpius nodded and stepped out of the bed, leaving the room quickly. Before the door closed completely, he heard Mr. Potter gasp loudly.
"Fuck! She's definitely coming now!"
"All right, Harry, I need you to …"
Slowly, Scorpius retreated to his room and slipped back in his bed, which was now very cold. He sat up and wrapped the sheets around him, hoping to warm up quickly again.
The clock showed six thirty. Huh, he was surprised that it was already morning.
He wondered briefly whether father had used Silencing charms on the door of their bedroom; Scorpius couldn't hear anything and his grip on his sheets tightened. Butterflies were rampaging around in his stomach and he shifted around; his heart beating quickly.
How long did it take for a baby to be born? He brought his hand to his mouth and bit down on the nail of his thumb. It was a filthy habit, he knew, but he had to get rid of his nerves somehow.
Why was he nervous anyway? Because the idea of having a baby sister would no longer be an abstract idea soon? It wouldn't be long anymore before he would be able to see his baby sister and he tried to make sense of the conflicting emotions raging in him.
He thought he should feel angry. Angry at his father for not remaining faithful to his wife; angry at Mr. Potter for somehow being able to attract his father's attention. Angry at them both for having a child without thinking properly about it – mother had been very clear about the fact that his baby sister had not been planned at all and father had said nothing to dispute that.
But father seemed actually happy for the first time in years. Scorpius couldn't recall one moment when he had heard his father laughing freely with his mother, as he had done so a few evenings ago when Mr. Potter had told a story.
Did this mean that his father was much happier with Mr. Potter? Maybe he and mother just weren't meant to be.
Maybe father was meant to be with Mr. Potter, but hadn't found him on time.
Was it all right for Scorpius to dislike Mr. Potter simply because his mother didn't like him? Mother had always pressed on him the importance of independence – didn't this mean that he should decide for himself whether he liked Mr. Potter without mother trying to force her opinion on him?
After all, it wasn't Mr. Potter's or father's fault that they had fallen in love. Things like that just happened sometimes. That didn't mean it was bad, right?
Scorpius was still pondering about these questions, when nearly two hours later, a knock sounded on his door and father leant against the threshold; his face tired, but ecstatic at the same time.
"Scorpius? Do you want to meet your baby sister?" Father asked and his eyes contained nothing of the hard and cold look he had worn frequently when he was still together with mother.
Mr. Potter looked even worse than father. His eyes were bloodshot and he looked incredibly pale, but he was sitting up against a whole stack of pillows and he was holding a bundle of blue blankets against his chest, cooing softly to it.
Green eyes locked onto his own grey ones, when he entered the room quietly.
"Scorpius, you're ready to meet your sister?" Mr. Potter smiled tiredly.
Scorpius looked up when he felt father's presence behind him and father squeezed his shoulder gently, offering a warm smile.
Taking a deep breath, Scorpius crossed the room and halted next to the bed. Mr. Potter lowered the bundle, so that he had a better view of it.
Her face was very red and still scrunched up, was the first thing Scorpius noticed when he looked at his baby sister for the first time. She wasn't ugly, though. A layer of fine, black hair covered her small head and her lips were making smacking sounds.
"Do you want to hold her?" Mr. Potter murmured.
"Can I?" Scorpius asked surprised.
She looked so fragile and small – wouldn't he hurt her?
Father came over to help Mr. Potter with handing over his sister as Mr. Potter seemingly had trouble moving too much.
Then the warm, small body was resting in his arms and Scorpius looked directly in her little face. She felt so small … So helpless.
Mother had been cursing at his unborn sister, calling it ugly names when she thought Scorpius wasn't nearby.
How could anyone hate such a small, fragile baby? She looked so innocent, so helpless.
So warm.
A surge of protectiveness washed over him suddenly. It didn't matter what his mother thought about this small girl – she was Scorpius' baby sister and he would do everything in his power to protect her and take care of her.
Suddenly he was glad that Mr. Potter – no, Harry. He was glad that Harry had come into their lives. Because if he hadn't, then Scorpius would never have known that his father could look so happy and he wouldn't have had his baby sister.
If Harry hadn't shown up, Scorpius would probably never have had a chance to experience the feeling of a warm, close-knit family.
"What do you think, Scorpius?" Father asked amused.
Scorpius looked up and smiled. "She's beautiful, father," he murmured and he wasn't joking or being sarcastic. Even though her face was still a bit scrunched up, he could already tell she was a very beautiful baby. "What is her name?"
Harry smiled. "Lily," he replied softly.
"Lily," Scorpius repeated quietly to himself. The name of a flower – it suited his baby sister.
He had to hand her back to Harry when it was time for Lily to be fed, but he was allowed to sit next to Harry and help him with holding the bottle at the right angle.
Maybe his family home wouldn't feel that cold anymore with the arrival of his baby sister. Mother would be very unhappy, but for the first time, Scorpius couldn't find it in him to care about that.
He was now a big brother, after all – he had to worry about his baby sister, not about his mother potentially becoming angry.
Besides, he thought when he caught the warm gaze of Harry, if his mother did become too angry at him, he had this home to return to – he was pretty certain Harry wouldn't stand by idly if his mother tried to do something.
But that was a worry for later. For now he would bask in the love he could feel hanging in the room and look after his baby sister.

AN2: Still don't know how my brain came up with this, but well *shrugs* What do you think of it? Please leave your thoughts behind in a review!
Cuddles
Melissa
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Starting Again