Hearts Open (at the Close)

VI.
It seemed like Draco had been at Grimmauld Place for years. In reality, it had been a few months.

Months.

It seemed unbelievable that Draco had gotten used to his situation, but maybe it had been inevitable. Two more escape attempts (no, Draco could not ‘hi-jack’ Harry’s magic to Disapparate, and no, the wards would not fall just because a fire was set—and pursuant to that, a hole could not be burnt right through one of the walls) had briefly pushed Harry and Draco farther apart, but by that point, there was no one else.

There was just Harry, and Draco didn’t want to be alone anymore.

“You have everything you need in the lab?” Harry asked softly, coming up behind Draco and wrapping his arms around his waist. Draco hesitantly placed a hand over Harry’s. He didn’t like giving so much of himself, but Harry gave everything, even though he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Draco didn’t want to be there.

“Yes, thank you,” Draco said politely, taking out another cup for Harry’s tea.

“Just let me know if you need anything, anything at all,” Harry said, kissing the side of Draco’s neck. Draco shivered.

Harry was so equally generous and clueless with potions ingredients that Draco could easily ask for the makings of a fatal draught, and Harry’d be none the wiser. He didn’t know why he refused.

He didn’t want Harry dead, but he wanted his own freedom more.

“I will,” promised Draco. He pulled away from the soft embrace, but Harry didn’t scold him. He knew better than to crowd Draco, something for which Draco was grateful. Having his own space and the ability to turn Harry away—within reason—made his life easier to bear.

The only other thing that kept Draco from brewing one of those fatal positions for himself was the fact that Harry was showing a marked improvement. He sometimes made it weeks without an episode of violence or confusion. His wild magic seemed to be integrating with his body; they were no longer fighting for supremacy. Draco wasn’t exactly sure what it entailed, but it meant that Harry had a chance of getting better, even of recovering completely. And if Draco had to wait that out, well, he probably could. And Harry showed more and more remorse over Draco’s situation, though he never offered to change it in any way.

By that point, Draco was used to seeing the regret in Harry’s eyes. He’d asked him about it, but Harry just said something like, ‘Isn’t it funny how things turn out?’ And Draco had demanded to know what things, but Harry only smiled sadly and went into his bedroom. Alone.

“I have a present for you,” Harry murmured against Draco’s skin, each word a tangible brush of lips and breath.

“Really?” The scepticism in his voice made him cringe—he didn’t want Harry upset. “What is it?”

“It’s a surprise, of course.”

“I hate surprises,” Draco retorted. He brought the tea into the living room, unsurprised when Harry fixed both just the way they liked it: Draco’s with a bit of honey, Harry’s with enough sugar to down a troll.

“I know that.” Draco didn’t wonder how. “But I think you’ll like this one. I know you’ve been lonely…”

Draco froze, unwilling to hope… had Harry arranged for a visitor? Or maybe they would be going outside?

“What? Please, Harry, tell me.” Draco hated pleading, but he wasn’t above it. He knew who held all the cards.

But Harry only chuckled in that maddening way and made cryptic comments for the rest of the evening until Draco finally shut him up with an angry kiss. Harry didn’t seem to mind.

*

Waking up was a trial the next morning. Harry had been in such a good mood he’d kept Draco up all night, torturing him.

Of course, Draco hadn’t seen it as torture at time—Harry was very talented—but now his body ached inside and out, and all he wanted to do was stay in bed.

But Harry had said not to sleep in too late, and Draco was too excited about the possibility of going outside to risk remaining in bed.

Dressing carefully, Draco eventually made his way down the stairs. Tea. Tea was needed, and no later than now.

When that need was met, Draco was finally sound enough of mind to wonder where Harry was. He gave the lower level a precursory search, but figured Harry must be in the basement, possibly in the lab. That could be disastrous, Draco knew, but he couldn’t hear swearing or explosions, so Harry must have it under control for now.

He puttered around for a bit, tidying up and opening books without reading them. It was almost an hour later when he realised that Harry’s magic hadn’t made a single demand on him all morning. In fact, he couldn’t even feel Harry’s magic. It was usually an intangible force that made its presence known through unnerving and slightly sinister pressure. But it was gone.

“Harry?” he called, pitching his voice so he could clearly be heard on all floors. Nothing.

Running down the stairs, Draco immediately knew that he wouldn’t find Harry down there. And he was right. Faster than he’d thought himself capable, Draco ran up the two flights to the floor their bedroom was on. He checked every room. No Harry.

Staving off panic—what would happen if Harry died? How would he ever get out?—Draco sat quietly in the living room and stared at the demolished fireplace. For some reason, Harry had never seen fit to fix it, and Draco took it as an unsubtle warning not to try anything like that again.

Then Draco heard a sound he hadn’t heard in all his time in the house—the front door opening. He leapt up and ran toward it. Were they Aurors? Had someone finally found him?

But what he saw destroyed any hope he might have been cultivating.

Harry had returned. But he wasn’t alone.

He was holding two-year-old Teddy Lupin.

“What have you done?” Draco gasped, mind racing to take in the sight of his captor holding a small child, a child who was squirming but didn’t look altogether displeased with the situation.

“It’s Teddy,” Harry said unnecessarily, as the child was sporting black hair and a wicked looking scar on his forehead.

“Does my aunt know you have him?” Draco demanded.

“No, but I’m sure she won’t mind. She always wanted me to spend more time with him.”

“Won’t mind?” Draco repeated, aghast. Teddy went still and looked at Draco with wide eyes. Lowering his voice, Draco continued. “Of course she’ll mind! You’ve kidnapped her grandchild!”

“We’re a family!” Harry protested, shifting Teddy to his other hip. “She’d want us all to be together, Draco. And Teddy does, too, don’t you?”

Teddy watched Harry for a moment before nodding slowly, but Draco didn’t think the child understood the question at all.

“Give him to me,” Draco demanded. He held his arms out and waited. Teddy was his blood kin, after all.

Harry smiled beatifically and handed the child over. Teddy set to squirming, but Draco pressed a soft kiss on his temple and shushed him gently. He slowly calmed down, but he was eyeing Draco very carefully. They stared at one another for a long time. Teddy’s eyes were the Black grey, despite his Harry-costume. After a few moments, Teddy’s hair went white from root to tip, and his little nose went from button to pointed.

Harry came up and touched the corn silk hair. “He’s beautiful, isn’t he? And he’s ours.”

Draco’s arms tightened protectively around the form in his arms. He didn’t look at Harry. “He is.”

*

“Come on, Teddy, Draco. Dinner’s ready!”

Both blonds looked up at the sound of Harry’s voice. “Race?” Draco suggested.

“Okay!” Teddy shouted, bolting across the yard. He didn’t fall once despite the somewhat uneven terrain. The backyard was spelled just like the rest of the house. Harry’s magic didn’t let them go any further than the predetermined perimeter. No one could see them. They couldn’t see anyone. Draco didn’t even know if it was a real lawn or Harry’s creation. He supposed it didn’t really matter as long as Teddy got to go outside.

Teddy, of course, beat Draco to the back door, but only by a foot. “Careful stepping up,” Draco warned, hands out to brace Teddy if he needed it, which he didn’t.

“By myself!” Teddy crowed, running into the kitchen and launching himself at Harry’s legs. “By myself, Daddy!”

“Oh, Teddy, that’s great! You’re growing up so fast, aren’t you?”

Teddy nodded eagerly. “Awmost fwee!” he cried.

Draco’s heart almost stopped. It had sounded like Teddy had said free, and Harry hated it when Draco talked about that now. After Teddy, everything had changed. Harry no longer took Draco’s pleas for freedom with a grain of salt. The topic was expressly verboten.

But Harry only laughed and cast a questioning glance to Draco, who had stopped mid-step.

Almost free.

“Were you outside in just this?” Harry asked, finger Teddy’s sleeve. Teddy nodded. “And you were warm enough?”

“He was running around like crazy,” Draco explained.

“You were?” Harry asked Teddy in that baby voice Draco hated but Teddy adored.

“Like this!” he cried, and then squirmed until Harry let him down so he could run in meandering circles around the kitchen.

Harry watched, laughing. “Oh, you’ll be sleeping well tonight,” he predicted. He pulled Draco in, and Draco let him. “And then maybe Daddy and Daddy can have some time alone.”

“Harry, don’t… don’t call me that,” Draco whispered. The first time Teddy had called Harry Daddy, Draco had gone upstairs and cried. The first time he’d called Draco that, he’d felt a burst of pride so intense he’d felt like his heart was breaking. And then he’d gone to his room to cry. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair.

“Draco, stop it,” Harry said, softly but firmly. “You’re his daddy and he loves you.”

“Look! Daddy, look!”

Both Harry and Draco turned to see Teddy concentrate until he had two long antennae. “Bug!”

“It’s actually kind of cute,” Harry mused, his arm tight around Draco’s waist.

Draco leaned his head on Harry’s shoulder and buried his face in his neck.

“Daddy!” Teddy called, and then again, and finally Draco had to look. It wasn’t Teddy’s fault Harry had him all confused. “Up!”

Draco barely had his arms out before Teddy was scrambling up his body and wrapping chubby arms around his neck. He reached out and grabbed Harry’s hair, pulling him closer.

Teddy sighed contentedly, planting a wet kiss on both his Daddies’ cheeks. Harry followed with his own wet kiss for Teddy’s cheek, and a soft one for Draco’s lips. Draco took the comfort.

“Come on, dinner’ll be cold at this rate,” Harry said a few moments later, his voice thick.

They took turns helping Teddy eat, though Draco’s turn was mostly spent cleaning up the mess from Harry’s turn.

After dinner, they usually sat in the living room and read to Teddy. Draco read him schoolbooks, and Harry read him the few children’s book that they’d found in the library.

“Don’t want potions!” Teddy grouched when Draco took out the Transfiguration text. “Want Hawwy Pottah!”

Draco frowned. “What do you mean?”

Harry chuckled sheepishly. “I’ve been telling him about my exploits at school. You know, Quidditch, the basilisk, Sirius, the Triwizard Tournament.”

“You’ve been telling a two-year-old those things? Merlin, Potter, what sort of father—” Draco slammed his mouth shut and went completely still.

Teddy chimed in with an irritable, “Awmost fwee!”

“No, Teddy,” Draco snapped coolly, looking at Harry. “Never free.”

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Author's Note: The next chapter is quite short, only 700 words or so, but it contains a true conclusion. I hope you've all enjoyed the story. Thank you all for reading!