What have You Done?

Chapter Fourteen:

December Tenth:

It was with a weary sigh that Draco Malfoy stood from the fireplace into unfamiliar surroundings. Had he been walking into a pit of snakes, Draco would have done so swiftly and happily to flee from the vicious mood his father, Lucius Malfoy, had sunken into.

Draco grit his teeth silently, his eyes scanning the humble furnishings that decorated the front living room of the strange house. His father was quickly becoming a thorn in his side with his cursed mutterings and sharp tongue. Had it not been for Narcissa keeping the man in line, Draco would have hexed him from the manor weeks ago. Was it not out of the kindness of his own heart that he had allowed them to move in when his sire had fallen ill?

The sounds of soft footsteps and humming reached his ears, dim and possibly from another room. It had to have been the Weaslette, the red haired, foul tempered witch who had dealt him her fair share of nasty hexes. And yet, the humming served only to loosen the knot that had been forming in the pit of his stomach since the arrangement of this meeting.

Draco brushed dust from his robes idly, his gaze skimming past the open window as he pondered whether or not to shout, or to make his presence known by leaving the room.

His decision was taken from him as the living room door suddenly burst open to admit a frazzled looking Harry Potter. The Gryffindor groaned as he stretched, his green eyes blind to Draco as he twisted his spine and ran a hand through messy black hair.

"Potter."

The reaction was swift, Harry's stance straightened and his wand was aimed at Draco's chest within seconds, the blonde having entirely missed where the Gryffindor had pulled the thing from. Green eyes bright with rage suddenly dimmed and his weapon was securely tucked up one sleeve before he extended a hand to the stunned Slytherin with a rueful smile.

"Apologies, Malfoy," Harry grinned and nodded his head, indicating for Draco to take a seat on the faded, leather couch, "Auror instincts, they're kind of hard to get rid of even after you've been doing nothing but office work for three months."

"Indeed," Draco drawled, his face blank though inside his chest his heart was only just calming down. He had been on the wrong end of the wand far too many times to be at ease. "I thought you had been reassigned to patrolling last week? Surely the incident with the vampire didn't affect you that bad?"

Harry snorted and dropped heavily into the chair, discarding his robes easily to show that he wore nothing underneath but a pair of jeans and a vest. "Course it didn't. It'd take more than a new vampire to take myself and Ron out, but the damn thing's Sire went and disowned the thing, it's near suicidal. Took longer than I thought to find it a new coven."

Draco hummed softly, his eyes dropping to the floor. A heavy silence filled the room, broken only by Ginny's persistent humming and the unmistakable sounds of a muggle washing machine. The blonde abided it for no more than a minute before a strange sound of exasperation spilled from his mouth and he opened it to say "I apologise."

Of course, Harry had chosen that precise moment to grin and say, "It's alright, you know."

The pair stared at each other, Harry's eyes softer in a way Draco had doubted he would ever see. Forgiveness. Harry was offering forgiveness without the need for an explanation, or a debt settlement. The blonde felt his lips tug upwards in a small smile before shaking his head and groaning.

"Of all the friends he could have made, all the allies he could have bonded with, he chose your son."

Harry merely laughed in response, leaning back in his seat and laying his hands on his stomach. "I could very well say the same vice veersa." his eyes grew brighter. "It was bound to happen, you know?"

Draco started, his eyes drawing up to land on the other man. "What was?"

"An alliance, between the two of them. Never James, that lad is far too stubborn for his own good. Marrying that French girl was a blessing, at least Annabelle can knock some sense into him. But Albus? Albus is too soft, too good-hearted to ever allow someone who is suffering out of his sights."

"Scorpius wasn't…"

Draco's voice faded and he frowned, his son's face swimming before his vision as he recalled each insult thrown the boy's way, each article he read concerning his family, his name. Scorpius had suffered. Not by the hands of his family, but by those who believed him to be nothing but a reproduction of his sire.

"I never wanted that for him."

The promise was soft, but painfully loud in the quiet room and painted with guilt. The blonde heaved a sigh, shaking his head as though he could shake away the badness that had come upon his son because of him and his father. Because of their choices, their mistakes. "He's too good for that."

Harry said nothing in return, merely offered a comforting silence, an acceptance Draco had needed since the beginning of this whole mess. He snorted as he dropped his head into his open palms, uncaring for the moment of dignified Malfoy behaviour.

"Your son's a bloody blessing to him, Potter."

###

"Sev?"

"your interruption had better be worth it, Potter, I'm reading."

Albus wrinkled his nose in response, draping his legs across the arm of the chair and dropping his transfigurations book to the floor. "You don't suppose the library has detailed books on Veela, do you?"

The black haired man sighed, snapping his book shut with one hand and casting black eyes out onto the sleepy scene within the sitting room. Albus stared up at him, swinging his legs lazily and occasionally flicking his gaze to land on the sleeping Veela who lay curled up on the rug before the blazing fire. The former potions master almost smiled. Almost.

"I highly doubt it. That library is beyond lacking when one has genuine need of it. Surely your… Aunt can tell you all she knows of their kind?"

Albus sighed, tilting his head back and rubbing the bridge of his nose. "She's told us all she can but Fleur has her limits. She is mostly human, you know. Even her mother, who is half Veela was denied a place in the Veela court in France for not having enough of her baser instincts. Fleur has taught Score how to use his magic and control his Allure but certain things concern me."

Severus' brow arched, his expression vaguely intrigued. "Oh?"

"Yeah," Albus sighed, pinning the slumbering slytherin with a concerned gaze. Scorpius slept on, oblivious to the attentions, his white wings draped idly around him in a cocoon of soft feathers. "Like, why does he sleep so much? I knew he was tired when I wasn't here because he wasn't sleeping but now he naps three, four times a day and through the night. Plus, his diet, all that sugar. It can't possibly be healthy… I don't know, maybe I'm fussing…"

"Perhaps," Severus drawled, picking up his book and skimming to where he had left off, "It is a habit of Potters to jump to conclusions and form the wrong answers."

He smirked as Albus opened his mouth to retort, "However," his black eyes flickered to the Veela, "Your father did have a… surprising knack for worrying just the right amount. You would do well to contact the Veela court in the coming months. They will give you the answers you seek. Now, if you're done prattling on, desist your whining and allow me to return to some semblance of peace."

"Aye aye Sevvy."

"And stop calling me that!"