What Shakes The Elephant

Author's Note: I apologize for my absence lately. My grandfather passed away last saturday and I've spent the week dealing with funeral things and trying to recover. It's been rough, but on the upside hard times usually do stimulate my creativity so I have come out with new stuff.

This is my second fic and it is clearly epilogue compliant. But have no fear. I hope you like it! I got really excited about this and the ideas are flowing more freely than with The Space Between so I'm putting that on hold a bit until I get this done. Or enough of it anyway. I'm also still on the fence about the Memoirs rewrite... and I have two other fics in the making... one is a crack!fic. Yep. Seriously. Siriusly. We'll get to that later. I hope you like it!

What Shakes the Elephant

“What makes her come, what makes her stay,
What makes the animal run, run away,
What makes him stall, what makes him stand,
What shakes the elephant now
And what makes a man?
I don’t know, I don’t know
I don’t know, no I don’t know you anymore.”
-The Professor et la Fille Qui Danse by Damien Rice

(full lyrics: http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/damienrice/theprofessor.html )

Chapter 1 – A New Generation

The children were running past and scrambling onto the train whilst frazzled parents struggled to hoist up the heavy trunks, or remind their little ones of every last bit of advice they could before they went off to school. Things can change drastically over a very short period of time but something Harry came to love about Platform nine and three quarters and the journey to Hogwarts was that it was one of those few things that never changed at all.

He watched, with a bemused smile, James jump onto the train and rush off to find his friends. He watched Albus Severus gingerly step up, looking stricken with fear and anticipation. Harry could do nothing more to calm or reassure him and he knew that his middle child would soon make a friend and learn that school was not as daunting of a place as James had tried to make it out to be.

Lily was pleading with her mother to go to Hogwarst as well but Ginny expertly explained for the seventeenth time that she was not yet old enough and that soon enough, she too would get to go. Harry’s eyes did not leave his second son, however, as he surveyed Al moving through the train to find an empty compartment. He worried about his son more than the other two. James was strong and self-sufficient and very much like his grandfather. Lily was still young and they could care for her as long as they needed but Al was always a little less adequate then his older brother.

He was nervous and shy and impressionable… but most importantly he was a people pleaser. Al wanted nothing more than to make Harry happy. He wanted to please his parents and hated to disappoint his father. Harry worried that it would hold him back from being himself, but he knew that school would help remedy that.

Soon enough, Albus would be rebelling in the proper manner of a teenager and Harry would long for the days when he did everything he could to make his father proud.

And so, for the time being, Harry watched his son take a seat in the empty compartment and wave out the window to him. He waved back and Albus sat down, looking towards the door in anticipation of someone who might come to join him.

And then the door of the compartment crept open in front of Harry’s eyes and he saw a thin boy with a pointed face, blond hair and (though Harry could not see from here) what he knew to be silver-grey eyes.

Albus looked up and the blond boy smiled, apparently asking to join him. Al nodded and the blond boy sat in front of him, clearly still speaking. Al listened intently to the boy and cocked his head, considering the statement. Then the blond held out a hand to Albus and Harry felt his jaw drop very slightly.

Albus took the hand of Scorpius Malfoy with a smile and a nod and Scorpius smiled back. The train started to move, though Harry hardly noticed. Albus Severus stood up to wave goodbye to his father once more and Harry only just managed a smile and a wave before the Hogwarts Express was chugging steadily out of the station and off towards the school.

Harry stood, breathing rather hard for a moment. Scorpius Malfoy was the spitting image of his father, much like Albus was to Harry. He had even pulled the very same move that Draco Malfoy had tried on Harry with one very clear difference. Albus had actually accepted.

He accepted Malfoy’s hand? He was really going to become friends with the not-yet-sorted-but-impossibly-obvious Slytherin so easily?

But Harry relaxed as he reminded himself that times were different. Draco Malfoy was not the same snobbish child he had been at school, just like Harry was not the same stubborn orphaned kid with no knowledge of the wizarding world that he used to be.

Surely Draco must have matured. Surely he must have grown and changed from the events that hit them both nineteen years ago. Harry was different. Malfoy had to be too.

And, if Albus Severus could give Scorpius Malfoy a chance, then perhaps Harry should take a leaf from his son’s book. It was about time, anyway. Wasn’t it? To deal with all those troubled waters and yards of dirty laundry that Harry and Draco shared.

He took a deep breath and turned back to the tall, blond figure just further down the platform. Malfoy seemed to be quietly (and rather uncomfortably) discussing something with his unnamed wife. She did not seem pleased but nodded to him and Disapparated, no doubt back to Malfoy Manor.

Harry seized his chance and stepped forward to Malfoy before he disappeared as well.

“Malfoy,” Harry began rather lamely. “It’s been a long time.”

Malfoy turned around slowly and calmly, as though he had all the time in the world, and looked at Harry. His eyebrows were raised and his silver eyes burned into Harry, giving him the impression that he was incredulous and critical.

“Perhaps not long enough,” he responded, though the sneer in his smooth voice had changed. There was some mild note of amusement there. Harry smirked, despite himself.

“Well I might have agreed with you an hour ago,” Harry admitted. “But it seems that my son thought otherwise. He and Scorpius seemed to have hit it off.”

Malfoy’s look of bemused incredulity did not waver as he let his eyes tear through Harry. He heaved a silent snort.

“I suppose I’ve taught him well,” he said, the sneer slightly more prominent. “Or perhaps you haven’t taught yours well enough.”

Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes. He couldn’t deny that he was surprised at how easily he managed to slip back into the old routines of snarky remarks with Malfoy. Old habits die hard, he supposed.

“I don’t think that’s it at all,” Harry went on. “I think I’ve taught Al quite well, actually. In fact, he was better prepared to deal with a Malfoy than I was.”

At this point the blond man before him gave Harry a hard look. He was literally unreadable. Harry struggled to maintain eye contact when every fibre of his being was telling him that this was going to venture into uncomfortable territory.

“What do you mean by that?” Malfoy asked. He folded his arms over his chest.

“I’m just saying,” Harry began, mildly unsure of exactly what that was. “That if our sons can give friendship a chance, the least we can do is try the same.”

Malfoy snorted once more and let his lips curl into a very familiar sneer with no reservations. His silver eyes were trained on Harry and suddenly he had the feeling that there was no one else around for miles.

“I believe we’ve already tried that,” he reminded Harry. “And, ah yes, I believe you turned me down in favour of the red-headed witless wonder. And rather rudely, I might add.”

Harry felt his anger rise slowly and suddenly it was not so hard to keep his eyes on Draco’s.

“And you talking like that is exactly why, Malfoy,” he snapped back, unable to stop himself. But the image of Albus taking Scorpius’ hand on the train, the smile on his face and the idea that he had made his first friend was all Harry needed to find himself again. He would be damned if he was going to let his old rivalry cause his son unnecessary anxiety. This was for Al. “Malfoy, I though we were past these petty arguments. We should be more mature than that.”

“One would have thought,” the blonde agreed rather harshly. His face was still calm and controlled and Harry wondered how he managed that so well.

“Look if our sons are going to be friends,” he began and quickly cut Malfoy off when he opened his mouth to speak. “And I know they will because I know my son, we should at least try to be civil with one another.” He took a deep breath and set aside the anger and disdain he thought was long-dead. “I think it’s about time we’ve put all those skeletons behind us and at least tried again. You can’t ignore the past, but in light of everything that has happened over the last twenty years, I’d say we can at least learn to move on.”

“You’ve become eloquent in your old age, Potter,” Malfoy said with no particular tone. Harry cocked an eyebrow. They were not only the same age, but only thirty-six.

“What do you say, Malfoy?” he asked, holding out his own hand in much the same manner that Scorpius had. “It can’t hurt.”

Malfoy adjusted himself and his eyebrows rose slowly to the sky again as he studied and considered the hand offered to him. Harry did not back down, but he recognized the calculating look in his once-rival’s eyes.

“Oh, it can hurt, Potter,” he finally replied, taking Harry’s hand. “And I promise you it will. But you are right, for once, about some things.”

“That’s a first for you,” Harry told him. “It must have been painful.”

“Regretfully so,” Malfoy admitted. Harry didn’t know what to think of the way their conversation was progressing. “So tell me, what does this little agreement entail?”

“Meet me for drinks on Friday night,” Harry blurted out, unable to think of any better option. “Just a casual chance to catch up. At Three Broomsticks, yeah?”

Malfoy’s lips curled around the edges and his face betrayed his amusement.

“What makes you think I have nothing better to do on a Friday night?” he asked silkily.

“You are a father now,” Harry answered simply, well aware of the fact that parenthood can put a rather powerful damper on a social life. Malfoy snickered.

“I’m not you, Potter,” he reminded. Harry felt his face flush a soft red. “But Friday night it is.”

“Great,” he answered, suddenly aware of the plans he had made. “Err, I’ll see you then.”

“Yes that is the idea,” Malfoy drawled. “I’ve got to get to work. Until Friday.”

And he Disapparated before Harry’s eyes, leaving him in a state of shock and anxiety.

Had he really just made a date to see Draco Malfoy alone and get to know him? Had he really just gone through with all that?

Perhaps he should have thought this out better… but Harry was never known for thinking things through very thoroughly before acting on them.

He turned back to his wife and daughter, feeling rather puzzled with his own actions.

“What was that about?” Ginny asked as he approached. He looked up. She did not appear to be pleased.

“Hmm?” Harry mumbled, snapping back to attention. “Oh I was just talking to Malfoy.”

“Thank you, Harry,” she snapped, placing one hand on her hip as the other was under Lily’s power. The little girl clutched her mother’s hand as though if she let go she might fall off the earth. “I’m not blind. What I want to know is WHY you were talking to Malfoy.”

Harry could tell that she was feeling short-tempered today. Getting the kids to the train on time was always a difficult and tiring task, plus Lily was in a phase where she absolutely needed to have an explanation for everything. No matter what it was.

“Well, it’s been a long time, Gin,” Harry explained as calmly as he could. “Nineteen years… I saw Al making friends with Scorpius Malfoy on the train and I figured maybe it was about time I gave him another chance. There’s no use keeping up old rivalries, so I asked him to meet me for drinks on Friday night.”

This response did not seem to please Ginny at all. Her face turned an unpleasant shade of red.

“Lily, go ask Auntie Hermione if she still expects us over for dinner tonight, will you?” she told her daughter kindly. When the little red-head ran off to see her aunt, Ginny wheeled on Harry. “Harry, I don’t know what you are thinking. If the little Malfoy brat has managed to hoodwink Albus into being friends with him than there are more important things for you to be worried about than finding out what Malfoy has been up to for the past nineteen years!”

“Ginny,” Harry began, his temper rising. He did not appreciate the comments about Al. “Albus isn’t a fool. He’s not stupid and he’s not easily hoodwinked. If anything, he’s more open-minded than either of us was back in school and I’m, frankly, proud of him.”

“He hasn’t done anything for you to be proud of, Harry,” Ginny retorted. “All he’s done is give a Malfoy the chance to brainwash him. How is that admirable?”

“And what about what you just said makes your argument a good one?” Harry countered, feeling hot. “This is exactly my point. You have just as much prejudice against Malfoy as he ever had against you. I will not have my son be subjected any of those things that motivated the war.”

“Harry, this isn’t about the war,” Ginny shot back, her voice growing more quiet and still as she spoke. This was normally a bad sign as it meant that her anger was rising. “This is just about you and Malfoy. He is no good. He never was. And I find it disturbing that you don’t seem bothered at all by the fact that our son is befriending his kind!”

“What exactly is ‘his kind’, Ginny??” Harry replied testily.

“You know what I mean, Harry,” she continued, a warning in her tone. Harry snorted.

“Look, Gin,” he tried to reason. “If Scorpius really is as terrible as you say, then Al won’t be foolish enough to let himself be led. He’s a strong kid and he knows what’s right. But if they do become friends, as I have a feeling they will, I do not want him to feel any kind of animosity from us. He doesn’t make friends all that easily, you know that.”

“So you’ll have him befriends whatever riff-raff he can?” Ginny answered back. Lily was calling out to them from down the platform where Ron and Hermione were talking to Teddy. “Look, I don’t want Al to face animosity either. I want him to have friends and grow on his own but I would like to be able to protect him from the wrong kind of people. So what kind of message are you sending if you try to befriend the wrong kind of person, Harry?”

“Well not a very good one, naturally,” Harry answered simply, his anger dwindling at the sight of his daughter approaching. “That’s why I’m not trying to befriend the wrong kind of person.”

“You are insufferable,” she retorted. “Fine. Go out with Malfoy Friday. Maybe the nineteen years apart have allowed you to forget just how much of a prat he is. At least when you remember I’ll be able to say I told you so and not feel bad at all.”

Harry frowned at Ginny as she turned her back to him, crouching down with open arms to catch their daughter with a smile and a little giggle. It was almost unnerving how good she was at changing her mood for her children.

“Auntie Hermione said that eight would be good,” Lily told her mother proudly. “And Uncle Ron said to bring some firewhisky and then Auntie smacked him.” She giggled amusedly and Harry found that he couldn’t keep up his anger towards Ginny when faced with his daughter’s laughter.

He smiled and took her other hand so that they could go home and prepare for tonight.

It was an early birthday celebration for Hermione as she was going to have to be in Bulgaria for a conference on her actual birthday.

As they made their way back to the Apparition point, Harry couldn’t help feel rather elated. He had the life he had always dreamed of. He was married with three beautiful children and had family. A large and loving family. The war was over, the danger gone. He enjoyed his job, though he hadn’t actually expecting to ever being doing what he did, and he couldn’t dream of anything better.

He marked his appointment with Malfoy on the calendar when he arrived at home (in part to serve as a reminder to himself, in part to emphasize his seriousness to Ginny), then quickly began helping Ginny with the dessert they were bringing to the celebration.

----

A/N: A bit short but the chapters will get longer and yeah... Remember that "All is well" line? Not so much in my fic. BAHA. I have DASTARDLY THINGS PLANNED! Can you tell I'm excited?

Reviews keep me posting and writing and feed my muse and make me feel all warm and squishy inside. I loves you all!