Most Favourite Bedtime Story

BY : Sasunarufan13
Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco
Dragon prints: 2715
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter nor make profit of it. J.K. Rowling owns it.

Author's note: So this story is dedicated to babyvfan, because it's her birthday today :) Happy birthday, sweetheart! And because my time management is as impeccable as it always is, this story will have several parts. For now two, maybe three, depending on how long the next one becomes. Either way, yes, a new ongoing Drarry story! It's been a while since my last multichaptered Drarry story, so I hope this doesn't suck too badly!

Warnings: Harry's pov for the most part (minor Scorpius' pov); past implied MPreg; established slash; time skip; sassy Harry; canon divergence after the war (other warnings will be added once they become relevant)

Dedicated to: babyvfan

I hope you'll like this first chapter!


Chapter 1

He rushed to the bed, eager to get inside of it as quickly as possible. Not that he was particularly excited about going to sleep, but going to bed meant that grandmother would tell him a story and she'd promised to tell him his favourite if he finished his plate tonight, which he did!

So now she had to tell him his favourite bedtime story and he couldn't wait to hear it again!

Grandmother herself followed him into the room at a more sedate pace, the corners of her mouth pulled up in a faint amused smile. Her long, pale blue gown just barely brushed across the carpet as she came to a halt next to his bed, using her wand to first close the curtains before summoning a small ball of light. It hung suspended right above the nightstand, casting a gentle glow near the bed. It didn't illuminate the entire room, but it was enough for Scorpius to see her face.

"Which story do you want to hear, my prince?" she asked, settling down next to his legs on the bed. Her wand was put on the nightstand after she used it to tie her long blonde hair together in a braid.

"How daddy and papa fell in love!" he instantly demanded, wriggling under the covers until he found a comfortable position to lie in.

She smiled, definitely amused now. "But haven't you heard that story enough times by now? I'm sure you can remember everything of it. Don't you want to hear another story?"

"No, you tell it the best," he said stubbornly.

He loved hearing grandmother tell the story of how daddy and papa fell in love with each other, because it was one of the best stories he'd heard, even better than all the other fairy tales she often told him. He adored hearing how daddy started to like papa after years of disliking him and grandmother was so good at telling it! It was the best bedtime story he could hope for!

"Well then, in that case," she gave in as she always did. Settling herself better on the bed, she started to tell the story. "The story starts when your daddy was working at Hogwarts and got called to the Headmistress' office …"


"Come in!" McGonagall's – she would forever be McGonagall to him even when she insisted he could call her Minerva – rang out when he knocked on the door.

Pushing the door open, he stepped inside, saying, "You called me? I came as fast as I could, but I had a student who - "

He halted abruptly when he noticed the second presence in the office. Malfoy was sitting stiffly in one of the chairs in front of the desk, his hands folded on his lap. He turned his head to look at Harry, but surprisingly didn't sneer. His gaze did become hooded with apprehension, but the rest of his face was a blank mask, reminding Harry uncomfortably of Lucius.

"Not a problem, Harry, students always have priority," McGonagall said briskly and waved at him to come closer.

He did so, but approached the desk warily, keeping an eye on the blond. What the hell was Malfoy doing here?

"You know how we've been looking to fill in the potion's position after Miss Treeling decided she was not suited to teach?" McGonagall began and Harry barely concealed a snort on time.

Treeling had definitely not been suitable to teach children, that was for sure. One accidentally melted down cauldron had caused her to throw a fit and resign three months before the ending of the school year. While she might have been a lot friendlier than Snape had been when he taught Potions, clearly she hadn't been cut out to teach people who might make mistakes.

Harry had lost count of how many cauldrons Neville had accidentally damaged during their Potions classes and Snape had never thrown such a fit and resigned. Obviously there had been a clear difference between Snape and Treeling, but still, as a teacher she should have expected that things might go wrong. No matter which year a student was in, mistakes could always occur.

"Yes, I remember," he said dryly and Snape's portrait snorted derisively. Clearly he remembered it as well.

"After a series of interviews, I have decided that Mister Malfoy is the perfect candidate to take up the position of Potions Professor," she announced, linking her hands together on top of some parchment.

"All right," Harry said slowly, hyper aware of the way Malfoy kept staring at him. "Is there a reason why you called me here specifically? I assume you'll be announcing this news to the others tonight."

"Yes, I will. The reason why I called you here is because I'm very much aware of the past you two share," she said and raised an eyebrow. "With that in mind, I want the both of you to remember that you're adults now, colleagues, and as such I won't tolerate any arguing between the two of you, understood?"

"Arguing will be pretty hard to avoid, though," Harry couldn't help but point out. "Flitwick had an argument with Sprout just two days ago, remember?"

"You can call them by their first name, Harry," she sighed and shook her head. "I realise that, so let me specify: I do not want any fighting, be that physical or magical, between the two of you, understood? You have a problem with each other, you talk it out like the adults you are or you come to me. You're both professors and you should set an example for the students. Have I made myself clear?"

"Crystal," Malfoy drawled, opening his mouth for the first time.

Harry nodded. "More than clear."

"Expecting those two to get along would be like expecting those Blast-Ended Skrewts to be less violent," Snape sneered, crossing his arms.

"Now, now, Severus, they're no longer children," Dumbledore chided gently; his blue eyes gleaming amused. "I'm certain they'll get along better now."

"Oh, haven't you heard? Hagrid managed to tame them. Now they only react violently when they're startled – like most animals," Harry remarked innocently.

"At twenty-four years old, you remain just as annoying as when you were a student, Potter," Snape groused, glowering at him.

"I'm flattered to hear that you're still keeping track of my birthdays," Harry smirked.

"Still as arro-"

"And that's enough, both of you," McGonagall said warningly. "Unless there are any further questions, you're both dismissed. Draco, the house elves should be finished bringing all your suitcases to your private rooms."

Harry left with a nod at her and at Dumbledore and stepped on the staircase which would bring him back down. Footsteps marched right behind him and when he turned his head a bit, Malfoy was standing only one step behind him, his gaze still firmly fixated on Harry.

The dark haired man refused to let it bother him and simply looked to the front again, saying, "Well, I guess I should welcome you to Hogwarts again."

"Don't hurt yourself, Potter," Malfoy muttered.

Harry grinned, amused in spite of himself. "As long as you don't get a breakdown about a cauldron melting, I think you'll do just fine."

"I appreciate the vote of confidence," Malfoy drawled.

Well, he could hardly be worse than Treeling, really. At least Malfoy had always been good at Potions, something Harry had honestly doubted of Treeling.


"Malfoy is now teaching Potions?"

Harry couldn't blame Hermione for sounding so sceptical. The last thing he had expected was to see his old school rival show up in Hogwarts again to teach Potions of all things.

"Those poor students," Ron sighed and shook his head. "What was McGonagall thinking when she hired him?"

Hermione looked like she was going to stroke her hair back before realising she was in the Floo together with her husband and that move would be awkward at best. "Well, I'm going to assume he went through the entire interview and she didn't find anything wrong with him."

"I can tell you several things that are wrong with Malfoy," Ron snorted.

"So far there doesn't seem to be any complaints, but he's also only been teaching for a week," Harry commented.

Some of the female students actually seemed to really appreciate that Malfoy had taken over the Potions position. Harry supposed he couldn't really fault them for that. For all that Malfoy could be a real arrogant bastard at times, he'd always been rather good looking and he definitely had grown into his pointy face. Now he had a jaw and cheekbones that could cut glass and more than once already Harry had heard girls sighing about how wonderfully intense Malfoy's grey eyes looked.

"How are the other professors reacting to him? During mealtimes, I mean?" Hermione inquired curiously.

"I have no idea," Harry told her honestly and scratched his cheek, smiling sheepishly. "I haven't eaten in the Great Hall for the past week, because I was busy preparing my classes."

"And not because you're trying to avoid some of the more enthusiastic students?" She raised an eyebrow.

He scowled at her. "You'd want to avoid them as well if they kept asking you out."

"Hey, mate, that means you're still good looking," Ron teased him.

"So I suppose you don't mind that Miss Fields keeps asking you out as well?" Harry shot back, referring to the eighteen year old witch who had started working at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes seven months ago, together with the twins and Ron.

More than once Ron had complained to Harry that Fields wouldn't stop flirting with him, even when he'd clearly shown off his wedding ring and even after he'd kissed Hermione in front of her.

"I thought she had stopped doing that?" Hermione said icily; her brown eyes turning frosty even through the flames.

"Erm, it's not that bad anymore," Ron laughed nervously, before scowling at Harry. "Really, mate?"

"What? It means you're still good looking, no?" Harry shot back.

"You're such a dick, Harry," Ron complained.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley, you've got some explaining to do," Hermione said coldly. "And Harry, do go eat in the Great Hall; you don't want those girls to think they've got the power to scare you off."

"Of course they don't - " Harry sighed and cut himself off when the fire abruptly turned a golden red colour again, signalling she had closed down the Floo connection.

He supposed he should feel at least a bit guilty for throwing Ron to the wolves like that, but really, he had started it. He knew very well that it made Harry uncomfortable when students as young as fourteen years tried to flirt with him. The seventeen year old girls even went as far as reminding him that at the end of the school year a relationship wouldn't be illegal anymore. No matter how many times he rejected them – as politely and gently as he could – they kept trying to flirt with him.

So honestly, Ron had had it coming. It wasn't like he would be in that much trouble, anyway, given that Hermione knew about Fields' persistence.

In the meantime … He glanced at the clock and sighed, standing up with a groan. Perhaps he should go to the Great Hall again before any of his colleagues would start asking questions again.


The first thing he noticed upon entering the Great Hall was how far removed Malfoy sat at the professors' table. He sat all the way to the left, near the Slytherin table, while the others sat more to the right, with McGonagall and Flitwick more to the middle. He saw the wary looks some of the other professors snuck at Malfoy, as if they were expecting him to rise up any moment now and declare his undying loyalty to Voldemort.

Malfoy in the meantime didn't look at them even once, and merely sat there, stiffly eating his food. Somehow Harry had the feeling this particular seating arrangement had quickly become a common occurrence during mealtimes.

Were they really going to act like this? He'd thought they had put this bullshit behind them once the war and the subsequent trials had ended. He'd definitely expected more of his colleagues, considering that the majority of them were a lot older than him.

Concealing a sigh and ignoring some of the flirty smiles thrown his way, Harry made his way to the big table and promptly sat down next to Malfoy, who startled visibly.

"You mind me sitting here?" Harry inquired, just in case he had completely misread the room and Malfoy was the type to prefer sitting alone while eating.

"If it's out of pity, yes," Malfoy said curtly. "Otherwise, do whatever you want, Potter. When have you ever not done that?"

Ignoring the jab, Harry started filling his plate with mashed potatoes. "I've never done anything out of pity and I'm certainly not about to start with you now," he retorted. "Not that popular with the other professors, huh?"

"No, apparently they have a hard time forgetting I allowed Death Eaters into the school, imagine that," Malfoy drawled, stabbing his fork through his fish.

"Well, they'll have to get over it eventually," Harry said, deciding to go for the carrots instead of the corn.

"Or what? You're going to talk to them?" Malfoy sneered.

"No, McGonagall might interfere then and that's the last thing anyone of them wants – if they're smart at least," he added.

While Dumbledore had been fond of making the other person feel guilty by being disappointed in them, McGonagall had the ability to sound both pissed off and disappointed at the same time, which was much worse in Harry's opinion. She might not be one of the youngest anymore, but she was still a force to be reckoned with and she wouldn't allow any discord between the professors.

"I don't need her sticking up for me," Malfoy muttered darkly. "I can handle myself just fine."

"Sure," Harry said noncommittally and decided to change the subject then. "So, how are you settling in?"

Malfoy's silence forced him to glance at him and he raised an eyebrow at the strange look the blond wizard favoured him with. "What?"

"You're really going to ask me that?" Malfoy asked sceptically. "Are you serious? We're going for small talk?"

"Well, it's either that or I delight you with the tales of my six year old godson who recently has decided that he wants to become a Quidditch player. Or with the tales about Ron working at his brothers' joke shop," Harry droned. "It's up to you, really, but I figured you would rather talk about yourself."

Grey eyes narrowed. "I don't know what your deal is, Potter, but people are starting to stare. You might want to think twice about associating with me unless you want to tarnish your precious reputation," Malfoy said sarcastically.

"I know they're staring at me, that's no longer a surprise," Harry replied calmly. "And I've never given a damn about my reputation, Malfoy, as you should well know by now. Can we at least pretend to be civilized people who can exchange some small talk with each other? It's been six years since the war, Malfoy; I'd like to think we can get past our rivalry of then. So, what's it going to be? Your settling in at the school or the delightful tale of my godson driving his grandmother mad? Your choice."

"You're quite annoying," Malfoy informed him after a short pause. "But yes, I've settled in as best as I can. Had to ward my private rooms to avoid Peeves from wreaking havoc in it."

"Yeah, McGonagall has been trying to find a way to finally get rid of him, but no such luck so far," Harry sighed. He had had to ward his own private quarters when Peeves had had too much fun trying to steal his belongings and selling them to the students.

"And you?" Malfoy asked abruptly.

"Me what?" Harry asked confused, because it wasn't as if he had only recently become a professor.

"How come you decided to teach instead of becoming an Auror? I remember the newspapers were full with speculations about when you would start your training."

"Oh, that." Harry shrugged and started eating. "I've thought about becoming an Auror, that's true, but when the war ended, I found I was no longer interested in spending the rest of my life chasing dark wizards. One of them has been quite enough to last a lifetime, really. McGonagall mentioned that she was looking for someone to fill in the Defence Against the Dark Arts position and I figured I might as well give it a try. It hasn't been that bad, to be honest. At least here nobody tries to kill me on purpose," he added humorously.

"Not even the Slytherins?"

Harry wasn't entirely sure whether the other man was joking or not, but answered regardless, "No, surprisingly not. I think my brief demonstration of the things I'm capable of should they step out of line was enough to convince them that trying to kill me might not be in their best interest."

Only years five to seven had been really a problem at the start. They remembered the war all too well, most of them having fought in it, and they had been wary of having him as their professor. Some of the more problematic students had tried to catch him off guard during the practical lessons by attacking him with advanced dark spells, but he'd quickly put a stop to that by countering those with some darkish spells of his own. That had shocked them, he knew, because they had expected him not to know those kinds of spells, having considered him too good to know them. After all, the Patron of the Light as the newspapers loved to refer to him would never know such dark spells, right?

A short demonstration had thrown that assumption out of the window and had gained him the respect of the Slytherins.

"I'm surprised you're still here," Malfoy commented offhandedly. At Harry's bemused look he elaborated, "You know, considering the other professors usually only lasted a year."

"Ah yes, I suppose my odd luck is good for something at least," Harry snorted. "Would be embarrassing if I could defeat Voldemort, but wouldn't be able to teach longer than a year."

"Maybe that's not so much your odd luck, as your stubbornness," Malfoy remarked dryly.

"Whichever it is, I'm still here, and McGonagall doesn't have to search for a new professor every year. She's pretty grateful for that," the dark haired man grinned.

They fell silent after that, but it wasn't an awkward or an uncomfortable silence as Harry had expected. It was quite amicable even, especially when taking into account the fact that he and Malfoy hadn't spoken in years to each other and before that, they had found themselves on opposite sides of the war.

They parted at the end of dinner without saying another word to each other, but Harry caught McGonagall's approving gaze right before he left the Great Hall. He offered her a quick smile in return, though he hadn't been civil to Malfoy for her sake. He and Malfoy were colleagues now, and he would prove – if only to himself – that they could be civil towards each other now that there was no longer a war or Voldemort dividing them.

They might never be best friends, but they could be civil if Malfoy didn't decide to start acting like an arrogant prick again.


"Professor, can you please come join us during practice tonight?" Thomas Wright asked, his eyes glittering with excitement.

"I'm not the coach," Harry reminded him as he put the last stack of assignments in his bag.

"I know, but we've been kind of hoping that you would show us some tricks," Wright grinned crookedly. "You're still the youngest Seeker Hogwarts ever had and you led Gryffindor to victory in your last year! We want to win the trophy again this year, so could you show us some of your moves? Elisa is a great Seeker, but you're still better."

"How would you know when you've never seen me play?" Harry huffed amused. "Tales can be exaggerated, you know."

"My brother watched every match of yours when he attended here and he said not even professional Quidditch players are as good as you," Wright said excitedly. "So please, professor? You don't have to stay for long, just show us some moves that Elisa can use to win!"

"I don't know," Harry said slowly, grimacing at how much even half an hour of flying would put him behind in grading the assignments.

Normally it wouldn't be a problem but Teddy was slated to visit him this weekend. His godson had been looking forward to this visit for weeks now, so Harry had promised he wouldn't do any work at all in order to devote all his time to the young boy.

"Please? Just half an hour, no longer!"

"Never knew you to back down from showing off your flying skills, Potter," Malfoy drawled, appearing unexpectedly in the classroom.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked, frowning slightly. The dungeons were nowhere near his classroom so it wasn't as if Malfoy had to pass his class on the way to the Great Hall. "Besides, it's hardly showing off when there's nobody to compete with me."

"Oho, well, what about I be your competition then?" Malfoy suggested out of the blue, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he crossed his arms. "For old time's sake and all that. What do you say?"

"You want to fly against me," Harry repeated sceptically. "That eager to get your arse kicked again, Malfoy?"

"I'm not the one who hasn't touched a broom in years, Potter," Malfoy smirked. "Maybe I should give you a head start of half an hour, just so you can get used to a broom again. To even out the playing field."

"Oh, I don't need half an hour to wipe the floor with you, Malfoy," Harry shot back. "You, on the other hand, might need the warming up."

"Put your money where your mouth is, Potter. You and I, tonight at the Quidditch Pitch. Try not to cry too hard when you lose," Malfoy told him arrogantly before striding away.

"Aw yes! Wait until the rest of the team hears this!" Wright exclaimed and rushed away before Harry could say anything.

"What just happened?" Harry asked aloud, but the classroom was completely empty now and of course nobody answered him.

It was only when he was making his way to his quarters that he realised Malfoy had never said why he had shown up.


AN2: So yes, it's been a while since my last multichaptered story for this fandom, hope I won't screw up too badly *sweatdrops*

babyvfan, I'm throwing in all your favourite themes, so prepare yourself LOL

Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.

I hope to see you all back in the next chapter! Please stay safe and take care of yourselves!

Cuddles

Melissa



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