Chapter Text
It had been just under three years since the end of the war, yet Harry seemed to feel the world would never stop suffering.
When the last spell had been cast, the world pushed forward with an undeniable force. Harry found himself swept away by it all; first, rounding up all the death eaters who remained after the battle, then working through the grief and loss of loved ones, attending funeral after funeral until they all blurred into one. Then had come the trials; Harry, Ron and Hermione had spoken of what had happened to them, captivating a silent Wizengamot with their tales. Their testimonies helped put away some of the darkest wizards the court had ever seen; except, that was, for three members of one certain family.
The Malfoy trials had been the clearest event in Harry's memory. He watched, stony faced, as Lucius Malfoy managed to charm and twist his way, with eloquent words and elaborate sentences, out of a prison sentence. The Manor was seized by the Ministry as part of his reparations and he disappeared as soon as his trial came to an end; no time was wasted on his wife or son and their fate.
Harry, however, had. He spoke at Narcissa's trial, recounting the events of the Forbidden Forrest, of how she had saved his life. Then had come Draco's trial; Harry had found that the hardest. Sometimes, when he thought of Malfoy, he could only think of Ron's face as he swallowed the poison mead, of the sick crunch of his own nose under Malfoy's boot. But then he saw him, pale, fearful and defeated. Looking as lost and as desperate he had in the room of requirement, as scared as he had when he had lowered his wand before Dumbledore, when he refused to identify Harry at the Manor. Harry had recounted all of these events to a silent Wizengamot and he had saved Malfoy.
With no home to return to and, despite Harry's support, their name and reputation in tatters, Malfoy and his mother had fled to France.
After the final trial was held, the world began to return to normal. Celebrations began, the world thrived in the summer sunshine and people began to smile once again.
Except for Harry, there was no such thing as normal.
He had tried, honestly tried, to rebuild his relationship with Ginny but they'd both been through too much, both slipped too far, for anything to be the same again. In the months that followed Harry threw himself into Auror training and managed to forget his relationship with Ginny. A year after that, when Harry discovered he preferred the company of other men, he felt comforted in the knowledge that he and Ginny would never have worked anyway.
Just as the dust had begun to settle on Harry's new life his world was tipped upside down once again.
Andromeda had died, just two days ago. It had been a shock to everyone who had known her, the healers who had examined her body after the said she probably been unwell for some time. They said that the pressure of losing her husband, then daughter, then being left to raise her grandson had taken its toll on her magical core, although there were no direct illnesses they could point to.
"I think it would be most probable to suggest that she died, quite literally, of a broken heart." The healer had told Harry as he openly sobbed in the small, too white, too clean office in St Mungo's.
Three years later and the war was still claiming lives.
That was why Harry was here at the Ministry, following the corridor down to an unfamiliar department. Gathering his thoughts Harry raised his fist and knocked solemnly on the door before him.
"Come in" called a voice from inside as the door magically opened itself.
He was greeted with the sight of an office so messy it looked like a bomb had hit it. When Harry said the muggle phrase, even in his head, he fought the urge to scold himself - no wizards ever knew what he was talking about when he said things like that. Finally his gaze settled on an elderly wizard, dressed as haphazardly as his bookcases were stacked, sporting a lime green hat and periwinkle robes with an orange trim. The combination made Harry's eyes hurt and he fought the urge to rub his eyes.
"Ah, Mr Potter, welcome!" The wizard greeted, smiling brightly in an overly familiar welcome which Harry was now accustomed to receiving from wizards and witches he had never met. "Do take a seat; we've been waiting for you."
We? Harry's mind processed the wizard’s words and his eyes spun across the room, noting the presence of two chairs in front of the man’s desk; one of which was definitely occupied.
Blonde hair, slicked back. A tall, straight body sitting upright against the chair back. Angular, sharp features framing stone grey eyes.
Even after almost three years, there was no mistaking Draco Malfoy.
"Malfoy?" Harry breathed in surprise, although he had no doubt who the wizard before him was.
Looking up to meet Harry's gaze Malfoy gave him a curt nod, "Potter" he replied, his tone indifferent. It was no longer laced with the cockiness or arrogance of his youth, but neither did it shake and stammer with the horror of his teenage years.
Harry found himself numbly taking a seat, his mind whirling with questions as to why Malfoy, of all people, was there.
"I'm sure you'll be wondering, Mr Potter, why we have an additional member at this meeting." The wizard began, although Harry didn't need to worry if he was an accomplished occlumens, the surprise was no doubt clearly plastered across his face.
"I thought I was... I thought this was about Teddy." Harry replied, looking carefully between the wizard who had addressed him and Malfoy, sitting so pale and still that if he didn't know any better, Harry might have believed he was made of stone.
"It is, it is." The wizard confirmed, nodding his head happily, causing his hat to wobble on his head in a most undignified way. "There may be some... Details you need to be brought up to speed with. Please, first, let's move forward with the pleasantries before we begin."
Harry found himself shaking hands with the wizard who had introduced himself as Andrew Cairn, a legal advisor specialising in wizarding family law, still none the wiser as to why Malfoy was here.
"Now, considering the recent loss of Mrs Andromeda Tonks, we're here to discuss the custody of Mister Edward Lupin, whom you known better as Teddy, of course." The way the wizard smiled through his speech, as if Harry was perfectly at ease with why his former school rival was sitting beside him in a discussion about his godson, made Harry swell with frustration. He had had enough of pleasantries - he wanted answers.
"Why is he here?" Harry asked, cutting off Cairn in mid-sentence. He curled his fingers inward, balling them into fists at his side; he had enough to deal with, helping organise Andromeda's funeral and moving Teddy’s belongings over to Grimmuald Place without dealing with... Whatever this was.
"Well, Mr Potter. As Teddy's godfather, you are of course well within rights to become a legal guardian. However, Mr Malfoy here is also - as Teddy's cousin and only remaining bloody relative - equally entitled by law. As Andromeda gave no direction I am here to tell you both that, from this point forward, are Teddy's legal guardians."
Silence covered the room and Harry felt as if the bottom of his stomach had disappeared. As shock subsided, anger resurfaced.
"But why - he's nothing to do with Teddy!" Harry burst out angrily, to which Cairn slowly shook his head.
"You do see, Mr Potter, I did attempt to warn you that there were details you needed to be filled in on." At this point Harry chanced a glance over at Malfoy - he didn't appear at all surprised by Cairns revelation. He turned to Harry as he sensed him looking, shifting a little in his seat.
"My mother, when she divorced father, returned to her maiden name of Black." Malfoy began, explaining nothing Harry didn't already know although he listened avidly. "In turn, she began to seek out contact with her sister, build bridges, so to speak." Malfoy paused, his tongue flicking out over his lips as his eyes clouded with thought. Harry found himself mesmerised by this - for so many years he had watched Malfoy, cool and impassive. When Harry had seen him with his guard down during the war, the only sight he'd seen in those eyes was fear. Now the emotion within them was different... Malfoy was hurting. "She had begun writing and then visiting Andromeda and Teddy, before she..." Malfoy broke off, swallowing thickly. Harry didn't need Malfoy to say the words - although it was not the high status news it may once have been, Narcissa's death last year, caused by addiction to calming draughts, had been covered in a small section of The Prophet.
Once again, the war was over, yet still taking lives.
"Well, I picked up where she stopped. I began writing and visiting in her place. I've met Teddy several times now, actually. I came straight over from France as soon as I heard."
Malfoy's words hung in silence as he finished, thankfully turning his gaze away so Harry was no longer faced with the raw emotions there. Even without the eye contact, Harry's kind was spinning. Malfoy and Narcissa had been seeing Andromeda and Teddy? Why hadn't she said anything? Surely, after Harry speaking at their trials, she would have known that he wouldn't have a problem with it? The words, however, felt flat even in Harry's thoughts. Yes, he may have spoken to defend Malfoy, testify that he wasn't evil, wasn't a murderer; but that didn't mean he would be willing to accept him as part of Teddy's life.
Except that now, of course, he didn't appear to have a choice.
Harry found the anger he had held subsiding, replaced by a new emotion as his cheeks began to burn.
Shame.
What must Andromeda of thought of him, not to tell him about speaking to her sister and nephew? To not tell him Teddy was meeting more of his own flesh and blood? And what had he done just now - nothing but prove that whatever fears Andromeda had held were well placed by the scene he had just caused? His shoulders slumped as he sank back into his chair, a petulant scowl on his face.
Cairns cleared his throat awkwardly, bringing himself back into the exchange. "So, as I was explaining, you are now both legal guardians for Teddy, formally recognised by ancient wizarding law. The details of such guardianship are a little more lenient, we can work out the finer details of those together. First, Mr Malfoy, I assume your living arrangements..?"
"I came straight from France, I'm staying at the Leaky at the minute." Malfoy explained and Harry almost found himself smirking at the thought of Malfoy staying in the bare, basic rooms the Leaky Cauldron offered. Surely he was much more accustomed to silk throws and polished, hard oak floors?
"I'll have to go back, in time, to close my shop and sell the house, so I can find some place more permanent here. Until then, I suppose..." Malfoy trailed off with a slight frown, as if he hadn't considered the time in between selling his home in France and finding a new one in England. Harry found the sight a little unnerving; Malfoy had always been calculated, organised, ready with a plan. Maybe he really had been affected by Andromeda’s loss...
At the thought, shame gnawed deeper into guilt, bubbling at the pit of Harry's stomach. He knew he had to do something, a peace offering of some kind at least, if they were both to care for Teddy. "Number 12 has plenty of bedrooms I don't use. You could stay with me, until you find somewhere." He offered, feeling uncomfortable as Malfoy shot him a look of unhidden surprise. "I mean, I suppose it will be easier if we're both looking after Teddy, until you find somewhere and we sorting something out..." Harry trailed off and shrugged, wishing the conversation would hurry up and end.
"That's very generous Potter, thank you." Malfoy replied, giving Harry yet another nod. Harry, however, failed to notice the gesture as he was frozen once again in shock - had Malfoy actually just thanked him?
"Very well, gentleman, that sounds like a plan!" Cairn cut in cheerfully, clearly very relieved he didn't have to sort out the situation himself. "When Mr Malfoy finds himself a permanent residence we shall meet again to discuss finer details of how you will share your newfound guardianship. Until then, if you sign these, indicating you're willing and able to take on the role of Teddy's legal guardian until he becomes of age..." Cairns trailed off as he rattled through desk drawers, eventually producing two rolls of parchment and quills with a flourish.
Harry simply took his parchment, unrolled it and - ignoring the long lines of neatly written ink - signed his name. He was certain he heard a huff of annoyance and definitely saw Malfoy rolling his eyes as he unrolled his own parchment, reading the script word for word before he signed his name.
"Excellent, excellent." Cairns said as he rolled and sealed the parchments with a flick of his wand. "Now you may use our departments Floo, we have a direct link with St Mungo's children's ward -"
Noticing the way Harry's face paled, Cairns shook his head so avidly Harry was certain the hat would fall of his head. "Of course, Teddy is perfectly healthy, we find in these cases using St Mungo's crèche to take care of children until guardians are placed is much preferable to our offices." He explained as he rose to his feet, signalling in the direction of his door. "If you leave my office and turn to your left, past the third door down you will see a small hall filled with grates. The one you need will be clearly marked. Good day, gentleman."
Harry rose to his feet, only half aware that Malfoy was following him as he led the way down the corridor. Sure enough they soon found themselves in a small, open square lined with fireplaces. It took Harry no time at all to locate the grate they needed "St Mungo's, children's ward" was engraved in ornate silver script above the green tiles that seemed to be a staple of floo grates across the ministry.
He stepped up to the grate, taking a fistful of powder before turning to Malfoy awkwardly.
"See you there then.." He said, once again finding a nod in response before he stepped forward into the flames and cast his powder down.
-x-
When Teddy had caught sight of Harry coming down the corridor he had jumped up from the stuffed kneazle he had been playing with to scurry across the floor to greet him. He had flung his arms around Harry's neck as he had bent down to hug him and Harry had felt, just for a moment, that everything was right in the world.
The feeling hadn't lasted long.
Harry remembered the way Teddy had squealed in delight, using his vantage point over Harry's shoulder to look down the corridor behind.
"Draco! Draco!" He had called before breaking free of Harry's embrace and hurrying to give Malfoy a hug which had been as warm and accepting as the one he had given Harry. As Teddy connected with Draco, Harry watched as his hair turned a startling white blonde - Teddy had, Harry had known for some time, inherited his mother’s abilities as a metamorphmagus but could not yet control his transformations; at his young age they were influenced mainly by his emotions. If the hug between Teddy and Draco hadn't let Harry see how close Teddy was to his cousin, the startlingly smooth blonde locks which covered his head told him all he needed to know.
As he watched the exchange, Harry's stomach had twisted uncomfortably for two reasons; firstly, there was an itching discomfort, an urge to tear Teddy away from Malfoy and keep him to himself, safe and protected. Secondly, there was the gnawing guilt rising once again as he realised that Draco was clearly a much bigger part of Teddy's life than Harry had ever known.
Harry had taken them both back to Grimmuald Place and provided a simple dinner of soup and bread. Harry had felt uncomfortable as he placed the bowl before Draco - although he'd been expecting Teddy, he hadn't been expecting anyone who may have an... Opinion on whatever it was Harry served. Thankfully Malfoy had remained silent, taking his spoon and bread and leaving nothing but at empty plate behind. As they ate, the kitchen had been filled with the loud, excitable chatter that only a child could muster in such sombre situations. After their plates had been cleared, Malfoy had announced that he should return to the Leaky Cauldron and collect his things. Harry had nodded, glad for the reprieve from Malfoy's presence. What had he been thinking, offering him a place to stay? He knew his decision had been fuelled by guilt but the... uncomfortable, Harry had settled on with no other word to describe the feeling, presence of Draco Malfoy in his house.
After Malfoy had gone, Harry had given Teddy a bath and taken him into the room which had long been Teddy’s own; decorated just to his liking from the occasions he had slept at Harry’s before. Even though he had not yet had opportunity to gather Teddy’s belongings, Harry had been glad to be able to give Teddy a familiar space.
He sat down beside him, stroking the hair that flew wildly across his head, evidence of Harry’s not so refined hair-drying skills. Within moments his eyes fluttered to a close and his breathing evened. Harry slowly rose from the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb the sleeping young boy. With a final stroke of his mousey hair, Harry smiled a sad smile to himself.
"Happy birthday, Teddy." He had whispered, vowing in that second that by the time Teddy's next birthday came around his happy birthday wouldn't be empty words whispered into the darkness, haunted by the death of his grandmother.
---
Harry had gone to bed not long after he had taken Teddy to bed, leaving a short note for Draco explaining that he could choose from any of the bedrooms on the second floor. He awoke early the next morning and, as the April sun shone through his window, allowed himself a moment of peaceful happiness. The serene mood shattered like a fine glass as Harry heard a thudding of feet – light, but purposeful – making their way downstairs. In that moment Harry remembered everything that had happened; the loss, the sorrow, and the… startling turn of events regarding Malfoy.
With a sigh he pulled himself up, sliding out of bed and into his slippers. He knew, from sharing his house with Teddy before, that those footsteps would have by now found their way to the kitchen, and with Kreacher away at Hogwarts, would be making a terrible mess of his kitchen. His glasses were, as always, easily located on his bedside table. Once his blurry vision regained focus, he quickly found his dressing down and tied the familiar, comforting fabric over his pyjamas.
Harry took the two flights of stairs from his and Teddy’s rooms to the ground floor without giving a moment’s thought to Malfoy; Harry presumed he was still sleeping behind one of the second floors closed doors. During the sixth year that he spent avidly watching Malfoy Harry had quickly learnt he wasn’t the earliest of risers and, when he did arrive, spent most of the morning meal drinking coffee. The thought made him feel a little more relaxed – time for he and Teddy to enjoy a nice breakfast together before Malfoy’s presence once again brought its unease.
However as Harry reached the kitchen door, left slightly ajar, he stopped in his tracks.
“I can’t find any pumpkin juice, Teddy.” Came Malfoy’s voice, floating through the gap in the door. Harry carefully, silently edged up to the door frame and peaked through the gap. He saw Teddy was sitting up at the high kitchen table with a slice of toast, thickly covered in raspberry jam; most of which was now colourfully decorating the young boys face. Malfoy, however, was out of Harry’s line of sight. “Lots of milk, it’s good for you, that’s one thing the muggles have got right. Try some.” As Malfoy’s voice continued Harry felt more and more as if he’d awoken in an alternate universe; Draco Malfoy was in his kitchen, serving breakfast to his godson, talking so casually about muggles of all things.
Harry’s hand hovered in mid-air, frozen in the space between his body and the door handle. He had no idea what to do; after a moment of internal struggle he gritted his teeth and pushed the door open. He would not be made to feel like he was intruding in his own home. Especially not by Malfoy.
As Harry entered he was able to see Malfoy, his back to Harry as he poured Teddy a glass of milk, already dressed in a fine pair of robes. Harry suddenly felt self-conscious, picking at the fraying tie of his dressing gown. It wasn’t that he couldn’t afford fine clothes; he liked his once fluffy, now slightly threadbare dressing gown. It was homely, it was comfortable. Besides, it was his house! He could wear his pyjamas for breakfast, couldn’t he? As Malfoy turned around to hand Teddy the glass he froze, Harry’s keenly sharpened Auror observation skills noted the way his fingers tightened around the glass, his knuckles whitening as much as the already pale skin allowed.
“Uncle Harry!” Teddy called happily from his seat oblivious, as any three year old would be, to the tension between the two adults which had now frosted over the room. “Draco made me breakfast, but he says you haven’t got any pumpkin juice. Can we get some? Please?”
Harry blinked, breaking his stare with Malfoy then turned to his godson, offering him a warm smile. “Of course we can. We can go later if you want. When you’ve eaten your breakfast.” At the offer Teddy whooped happily, stuffing down his toast and adding more jam to his already red smeared face. The glass of milk, which Malfoy had now placed beside his plate, was drained in an instant before Teddy tore off out of the kitchen and up the stairs.
As Teddy left, the kitchen descended into a very awkward silence. After a moment Malfoy broke it, clearing his throat and saying “I hope it’s okay. Making Teddy breakfast, I mean. I was already up and..” Malfoy trailed off, looking uncertain. Harry was once again struck by the ways in which he had changed so much; he could never imagine the Malfoy he’d known at school behaving like this. No, the Malfoy from school would have waltzed around Harry’s kitchen as if he owned it, probably making some sneering comment about his chipped pots and lack of house elf.
Feeling, after Malfoy’s words, that he had no right to complain Harry nodded his head. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” He said, pulling the kettle toward him. Already hot, he noted. He took a spoon and began to heap grounds of coffee granules into a pot, pouring the water on top. He lost himself in the simple act of brewing the coffee until a whisper broke his concentration.
“He doesn’t seem affected at all, does he?” The words were so quiet Harry didn’t know if he was intended to hear. Either way, he had. He frowned, considering Malfoy’s words. Harry, of course, had noted the way Teddy seemed perfectly at ease with his new living situation – and hadn’t mentioned his grandmother once.
“He’s young. I’m sure it hasn’t really sunk in yet… Or…” Harry trailed off, his heart dropping like a stone. He suddenly realised, with the surprise of finding Malfoy in the office, he hadn’t covered the most basic ground with Cairn’s about what had happened to his godson in the day and a half after Andromeda’s death before Harry had been allowed to collect him. He turned away from the pot to Malfoy, although from his position he could only see the back of his head. “Do you… Do you think they even told him?”
Although Harry couldn’t see his face he could see the sudden stiffening of Malfoy’s shoulders. There was silence for a moment then, even more quietly than before, Malfoy spoke again. “Surely they… Had to?”
“I don’t know.” Harry replied, shrugging although the gesture would be lost on Malfoy. “I’ve never been in a situation like this. They might leave it to the families… I suppose…” Harry trailed off, an awkward pause rising as he chewed on his bottom lip. “I suppose we’ll have to ask him.”
At these words Malfoy twisted in his seat, turning to face Harry. He eyed him for a moment and Harry suddenly felt hot under the intensity of his gaze. He realised that this was the longest conversation he and Malfoy had had without insulting each other in… well, ever. There were, of course, more important things to be thinking about.
As if sensing Harry’s thoughts Malfoy nodded, standing to smooth down his robes. He opened his mouth, as if to say something, when Teddy burst back into the kitchen. “Uncle Harry – I haven’t got any clothes! Just my yesterday ones, and my pyjamas. We’ll have to go to grannies and get some.”
The way Teddy spoke of Andromeda so casually made Harry’s heart twist in pain. He gaze a long glance to Draco, who simply stared back. “Teddy…” Harry began, the hesitation clear in his voice.
“Yes, Uncle Harry?” His godson replied, looking up at Harry with wide eyes, innocent and trusting.
“Come here.” Harry said, picking Teddy up – with some difficulty, he noted, when had the kid got so heavy? He was relieved to place Teddy down on a kitchen chair, taking the one next to him and placing a gentle hand on his leg. After a moments silence, during which Teddy looked between the two adults with his wide eyes, Harry cleared his throat. He had no idea how to do this, he realised, so he let instinct take over.
“When… Before I – er,” Harry paused, flickering his gaze over his shoulder to where Malfoy say, silently overseeing the conversation. “Before we came to get you… Did the lady who was with you tell you anything about where Granny Andromeda was?”
“Yes Uncle Harry” Teddy replied, happily nodding his head. “She said that she had gone away and that someone special was coming to pick me up. Then it was you and Draco! It’s so cool staying here for a bit.”
“For a bit?” Harry repeated, his stomach sinking at Teddy’s final words.
Teddy nodded slowly, looking at Harry as if he were stupid; a technique only a three year old could master. “Grannies gone away, so when she’s home I’ll go home. Like when you go away all the time Uncle Harry. You always come back.”
Harry’s heart seemed to stop beating, his throat suddenly and painfully dry. It was true; he often told Teddy he was ‘going away’ before he went on stake outs and long distance missions with the Auror department and, yes, he always came back. He pulled Teddy over onto his knee, needing the physical reassurance of his weight there as he delivered the next part of his news.
“I’m sorry, Teddy… But…” Harry broke off, his voice cracking. How did he tell a three year old, one who had already lost his mother and father, that the woman who had raised him ever since was dead too? He didn’t know – he just knew he had to. “Can you remember when Victoire was born and you asked Granny Andromeda why you didn’t have a mummy and daddy like her?” Harry asked, referring back to the sad conversation only a few months ago, when Teddy had met the bundle of life that was the then six month old Victoire Weasley. Slowly, Teddy nodded, his eyes clouding over as he held Harry’s gaze.
“Well… Granny Andromeda wasn’t very well. She was poorly. So she’s had to go and… move on too. She’s with your mummy and daddy now.” Harry found himself blinking back tears as he spoke, desperately pleading with his body not to betray him; he couldn’t let Teddy see him cry, not now, he had to be strong.
“Why?” Teddy asked, his voice barely more than a whisper and Harry’s heart shattered. Such an innocent question; one that he longed for the answer to.
“I don’t know..” Harry admitted honestly, burying his face into Teddy’s hair as he held the youngster tightly. “But I do know that you can stay here and you’ll always be safe. I’ll look after you.” Harry’s tone strengthened as he continued as if he were putting the force of his emotions, of his desire to protect Teddy, into his words.
The young boy said nothing, simply clung to Harry for what felt like the longest time. After a while his grip loosened and he looked up at Harry. His eyes were still wide, Harry noted, but now… Clouded by sadness, a little more of their innocent chipped away.
“Why don’t you go upstairs and put yesterday’s things on? Then we can go… We can go to your grannies and collect your things.” Harry said, a discomfort settling over him that had little to do with the heavier than expected weight of the three year old in his lap.
Teddy nodded mutely and dropped off of Harry’s lap, silently leaving the kitchen. As Teddy’s footsteps could be heard ascending the staircase Harry heard the sharp screech of chair legs against the stone kitchen floor.
He snapped his head up in surprise to see Malfoy; Harry had forgotten he was still sitting there. As he looked, he noticed the sad, worried look which had softened Malfoy’s angular features and the way Malfoy’s eyes were wet with unshed tears.
“I’ll go and make sure he gets dressed ok.” Malfoy said, slowly making his way toward the kitchen door. When he reached it, he turned over his shoulder, shooting Harry one last look. “You… You did well, Potter.”
Harry swallowed thickly, looking up to meet Malfoy’s gaze. Wet green eyes met wet grey ones and Harry found that any words died in his throat; what could he possibly say? Instead, he nodded, waiting until Malfoy had closed the door behind him and his footsteps had faded away to silence before he put his head in his hands and allowed the tears to overtake him, the pot of coffee cold and forgotten.
-----
Returning to Andromeda’s house had been difficult to say the least. Thankfully, Harry had taken two weeks leave from the Auror offices when he found out about Andromeda’s passing and his new found guardianship of Teddy. Malfoy (who, of course, had nowhere he needed to be in England) had declined the invitation and, in all honesty, Harry had been glad he had. Teddy hadn’t spoken a word as Harry had packed his wardrobe into a trunk, taking care to fold each item of clothing with care and precision. He had found the repetitive movements comforting and soon enough the trunk was full. Harry charmed it to become pocket size before pulling out another bag.
“This is for anything else you want to keep.” Harry had explained to the silent youngster as he looked around the room for an example. His eyes had fallen on a small, stuffed dragon on his bed. “Like this, he wants to come and live with us too, doesn’t he?” Harry asked, forcing a smile as he picked up the red cuddly toy.
Teddy had nodded mutely and Harry had placed the dragon into the bag. He had helped Teddy select a wide range of toys from his bedroom and pack them away, although Teddy offered no more than nods of approval to Harry’s suggestions. Once all the toys had been sorted through they had descended the stairs and went into the sitting room. The breath caught in Harry’s throat as he looked at the fireplace; a sight he had seen many times before but was now more painful than ever.
He had stepped forward, running his fingertips over the glided frame of the first photo he picked up. In it Tonks and Lupin we’re beaming, proudly holding their new born son in their arms. It was, as far as Harry knew, the only photograph the three had taken before… Tucking the photograph under his arm and pushing the thought away he moved onto the next. It had been taken a year ago at Teddy’s second birthday party. In it, Andromeda sat beside a beaming Teddy who was presented with a huge chocolate cake. Excitement swept the young boys features as he puffed out his cheeks and blew out the candles, Andromeda smiling lovingly beside him before the scene replayed itself. As Harry watched again he had stared closer, into Andromeda’s eyes, trying to see the sadness he must have missed.
Why didn’t you tell us? We could have helped. Harry had silently pleaded with the witch in the photograph before he remembered Teddy was waiting with him. He then crouched down, both photographs in hand to show.
“We can bring these and I can put them on your beside table.” Harry had explained, allowing Teddy to carefully examine each photo although he’d probably watched them a thousand times before. “Then you can always have mummy, daddy and granny looking down on you. Keeping you safe.”
Harry had watched as Teddy let his fingers ghost over photo-Andromeda before he looked up at Harry and nodded. A small, sad smile tugged at his lips, but it was a smile all the same. Harry offered one in return, pleased he had managed to get something right.
The rest of the evening had followed in a similar silence. Harry and Teddy had been at Andromeda’s for hours without realising it, when they had returned home it had been time to prepare dinner. With no time left to go shopping after they returned home the meal had once again been a simple affair, and once again Malfoy didn’t complain. Yet without Teddy’s excitable chatter to fill the room as they ate the three sat in silence, Harry or Malfoy sometimes trying in vain to strike up conversations with Teddy which were met with little more than nods in response.
"This is my house now, isn't it?" Teddy asked that night, breaking his silence as Harry tucked him beneath his patterned sheets, the newly acquired photographs sitting proudly beside his bed.
"Yes," Harry whispered, smoothing back Teddy's hair and attempting a smile despite the emotion held in his innocent question. Teddy nodded in response, settling back against his pillow.
"Is it going to be Draco's house too?" Teddy asked, causing Hardy to freeze in surprise. It seemed Teddy, no matter his young age, had developed a keen ability to read situations. Harry sat in silence for the longest moment, wondering how to respond. Thankfully, the silence didn't seem to bother Teddy. "He's my cousin, you know." He informed Harry with a smile.
Harry had clutched at the turn in conversation, at the first real smile Teddy had offered since that morning, and nodded. "I know."
Teddy's eyes had slowly fluttered closed and, within no time at all, his breathing shallowed and he was fast asleep. Harry rose from the bed, taking a long look at his sleeping godson and the photographs which stood beside him before creeping from the room.
He quietly padded down the stairs, in search of the kitchen and a steaming mug of hot chocolate to ease his mind before he retired to bed. When he reached the kitchen he once again found Malfoy sitting at the table, a mug already clasped in his hands.
“I er- I hope you don’t mind.” He said, nodding slightly toward the drink in his hands.
“I already said I didn’t,” Harry replied as he headed over to the counter and poured steaming hot water from the kettle into a mug he heaped with coco powder.
“That was for… Never mind.” Malfoy trailed off, looking down at the mug in his hands. Harry knew the words he hadn’t spoken ‘that was for Teddy’ he assumed Malfoy would have said but Harry was glad he didn’t. He didn’t want any more awkward conversation, any more carefully chosen words.
Harry sipped his drink in silence, choosing to lean against the kitchen counter rather than join Malfoy at the table. After a moment of silence Malfoy stood brushing past Harry as he placed his used mug into the sink.
“Tomorrow I’ll need to go back to France.” He announced, breaking the silence between them. “Arrangements need to be made to sell the house… I’ll have to pack up my things and… I’ll have to find someone to take over my shop.” Malfoy stopped and the tips of his ears reddened slightly as he realised he was listing his jobs aloud and that Harry probably didn’t care. Which he didn’t, not really; although he was intrigued to see Malfoy embarrassed. “I’ll go in the morning, after I’ve said goodbye to Teddy, I don’t want him thinking…” Malfoy trailed off, silence falling again as the pair recalled the painful conversation held in the kitchen that morning.
Harry nodded mutely to show he understood and watched as Malfoy swept from the kitchen. Staring down at the half filled mug in his hands he sighed and poured the contents down the sink, he wasn’t in the mood for drinking. Not for drinking anything that weak, anyway. His eyes lingered on a bottle of firewhisky, high on a kitchen shelf way beyond Teddy’s reach. After a moment he decided against it, shaking his head to himself as he dragged his tired body to bed.
-x-
The first day of Malfoy’s absence passed quickly. He had, as he said he would, waited until morning so he could say goodbye to Teddy. That morning Harry had collected Teddy from his room and taken him downstairs to the kitchen where Malfoy was already waiting, full dressed in a travelling cloak and with his trunk beside him.
He had bent down to Teddy’s level as Harry had let the boy drop from his arms, his sharp, angular features softening slightly under the smile he had worn to talk to him. He hadn’t, Harry gladly noted, used the words ‘going away’ to describe his absence to Teddy. Instead he had told him that now he was going to be living in England, he had to go back to France and pack up his house. Harry had watched on as Teddy nodded, leaving him once again taken aback by how much his godson seemed to know about Malfoy. Malfoy had offered Harry nothing more than a short nod and a curt “Potter” before pulling out a small, yet ornate silver orb which – as Malfoy spun, disappearing on the spot – Harry quickly determined to be a portkey. Harry had rolled his eyes to himself as Malfoy disappeared; portkeys were usually everyday objects like… boots or teaspoons – not fancy silver orbs. Trust Malfoy to demand the highest quality in everything.
The rest of that day passed as if it were being sped up by the opposite of a Status Spell. Harry fed and dressed Teddy, taking him out to muggle London to stock the empty cupboards with food. He took a small comfort in allowing Teddy to choose popular muggle treats; chocolate biscuits, bags of jelly bears, fizzy drinks – all the things Harry had seen as a child, but never been allowed to touch. Of course he wouldn’t let Teddy have them all at once – but the treats seemed a small consolation for the pain he knew the young boy must be feeling. He was still aware that Teddy’s favourite drink – pumpkin juice – was missing from his cupboards. Despite this, he didn’t have to strength to go to Diagon Alley, or even Hogsmeade, and deal with the eyes of the wizarding world, sympathetic, offering empty words of sorry whilst using the apology to sneak a conversation with their hero, to shake the hand of the chosen one. When the time came for Harry to put Teddy to bed, he hadn’t thought of Malfoy once.
Harry was halfway through a book about a young witch and her mischievous talking cat, hoping to soothe Teddy into a peaceful sleep with the happy tale, when he spoke, breaking his void of silence.
“When will Draco come home?” He asked, peering up at Harry from his pillow.
“I don’t know.” Harry answered in reply, for it was the truth. Until that moment, he hadn’t thought of Malfoy; of what he was doing, where he was or how long he would be. Truth be told he had been, in fact, rather relieved with his absence, relishing in the way he no longer felt uneasy in his own home.
“Soon, I promise.” Harry added, yet that part was a lie. Until that moment, he hadn’t cared for Malfoy to return at all; however, as wide, innocent eyes bore up at him, speaking the first real words they had since learning of his grandmothers death, Harry found himself wishing – for Teddy – that Malfoy would return. Teddy said nothing in response, his eyes flickering back down to the book Harry held open against his lap. He picked up where he left off – halfway through a scene where the cat was singing in a bathtub – and allowed his thoughts to wander off as he read on. First, he couldn’t deny the jealousy which bubbled within him as he thought of how much Malfoy must mean to Teddy. As he thought of this, his thoughts warped to how that meant Teddy must like Malfoy more than Harry, and how Harry wasn’t good enough. Then his thoughts moved on to an irrational desire to prove he could best Malfoy in some way, to find a way in which he could cheer Teddy up which would not involve Malfoy’s return. By the time the story was finished and Teddy was fast asleep in his arms Harry slipped away with the resolute – and absolutely ridiculous – notion that if he could get his hands on some pumpkin juice before the morning, he would be Teddy’s favourite again.
Not particularly caring for the time, Harry left Teddy’s room and moved upstairs to in search of parchment, quill, ink and Otus. The latter was Harry’s dark brown spectacled owl; true to his breed, he had dark circles rimming his wide, amber eyes, giving the suggestion of a pair of glasses. It had taken Harry some time, and countless missed messages, to admit he needed a new owl. He didn’t count the new owl as replacing Hedwig, for as soppy as it may make him seem, he knew she could never be replaced. He remembered the day he purchased Otus fondly; he had taken Teddy to Diagon Alley after telling him he needed his help to choose an owl. Teddy had instantly warmed to Otus, insisting Harry buy him without taking much more than a slight glance at the other owls on offer. When Harry had asked why Teddy didn’t want to look at any of the other owls Teddy had simply replied;
“He looks like you, Uncle Harry. Look, he’s got your glasses.”
Harry smiled at the memory and, with Otus now following, headed downstairs to the his sitting room. His note was short, telling Hermione he had run out of pumpkin juice and asking if she could pick some up for Teddy. When Otus had flown proudly through Harry’s open window he sat back, forgetting his thoughts as he watched the flames in his hearth flicker, warm and golden.
As the flames turned a sudden, bright emerald Harry jumped back in surprise. Before Harry had time to register that the change in colour meant an incoming Floo, Hermione had stepped out of the grate and was shaking soot from her clothes.
"Hermione?" He asked by way of greeting, knowing he was gaping a little in surprise.
"Oh, Harry!" The witch replied, instantly stepping forward and gathering him into a suffocating hug. Again, Harry was surprised. Such displays from Hermione only usually came in dangerous or upsetting circumstances; an impending task fighting a dragon in the Triwizard Tornument, or defeating the Darkest wizard of all time, for example.
Stepping back and eyeing him carefully, she began to explain herself. "I'm sorry, I know you don't like people barging in..." She trailed off, wearing an expression of a particularly pained puppy. She was right; Harry valued his privacy. The wards of his home only accepted Floo visits from Ron and Hermione and Floo calls from the wider Weasley family. Even his Auror partner had to owl him if he wanted to communicate; and that was a luxury in itself, as the wards Harry had placed around his home also stopped letters from everyone but a small selection of people. "But... We've been so worried Harry. Of course, we heard about Andromeda and I wrote but..." As she paused this time, Harry felt a heat of guilt crossing the back his neck. He knew the letter she was talking of; it came the day after Andromeda's death, the day before Harry went to the Ministry to collect Teddy and become his guardian. Harry had recognised her familiar, neat script but had declined to read the words they formed.
"Sorry, I er - I've been busy..." Harry excused pathetically, realising now how worried his friend must be after writing to him about Andromeda's death and only, three days later, receiving an owl about pumpkin juice in return.
"Of course, of course." Hermione replied with a wave of her hand, dismissing Harry's apology. "We expected as much, but still, we worried."
Harry warmed at his friends accepting, forgiving nature but his thoughts had returned to the reason for his letter in the first place. "Could you bring some pumpkin juice?"
Hermione slipped a hand in her pocket, pulling out a tiny bottle which she returned to size with an expert flick of her wand. A full bottle of pumpkin juice was now clenched in her palm. "How is he?" She asked softly, thankfully choosing not to comment on Harry's insane request. Harry didn't think he wanted to admit the reasoning behind it to anyone; as understanding as Hermione was, his response of 'I need to make Teddy happy so he likes Malfoy more than me' sounded crazy even to his own ears.
"Quiet, upset. He didn't even know, at first, I had to tell him..." Harry broke off, taking the pumpkin juice from her grasp to busy himself, to avoid feeling the welling of emotion as he recalled the heartbreaking conversation.
"Oh, Harry.. I can't imagine..." Hermione whispered, looking genuinely horrified as her now empty hand ghosted across a slightly rounded stomach. Harry glanced down, watching the path her movements took. He was surprised for a second to see the swell there, although it was only the blossoming evidence of a fact he already knew. It was the size of the bump that surprised him; the last time he had spoken to Hermione, she told him excitedly of her and Ron's news, before they had told either of their parents. As Harry now watched her caress the slight swell of her stomach, he realised with growing how long ago that conversation had been.
"Maybe you and Ron, if you're not busy that is, could come over for dinner tomorrow?" Harry asked in attempt to ease the guilt that was now gnawing away at him. "I mean, it would definitely be good for Teddy to have some familiar faces around." Familiar faces that aren't Draco Malfoy, Harry added, but only in his mind.
The smile he got in return was one of genuine happiness, as Hermione nodded happily. "Of course we can! I know Ron's worried too, I mean, he misses you. I know you work together, but with having different partners..." She trailed off and Harry nodded. He and Ron had trained as Auror's together, keeping a close knit friendship even as he broke things off with Ginny, even as he told his best friend he was gay. But they weren't partners - the department thought it best to 'spread their expertise' - and slowly, as his and Hermione's relationship moved forward, their contact had faded.
"Tomorrow, then. 6 o'clock." Harry said, forcing away the unpleasant thoughts. Hermione smiled and nodded once more, giving him a brief hug and a wave of farewell before she disappeared into the flames, calling out the address of the home she and Ron shared together.
Before Harry retired to bed that night, he stared for a long while at one of the photos on his sitting room wall. It was of himself, Ron and Hermione on their wedding day just over a year ago. Harry watched as the trio smiled and laughed for the camera and as Ron placed a kiss on his new wife's cheek. Harry knew, with an uncomfortable twist of his stomach, that this was when his contact with them both had begun to slip. Harry had slowly brought himself back, watching their happiness from a distance. Not resenting it, he promised himself, just watching it.
That night as he closed his eyes, Harry found himself willing his own tired thoughts to believe that he'd invited his friends for dinner to renew their fading friendship, not to provide Teddy with a distraction from Malfoy. Not to make sure Teddy could enjoy himself with Harry, without Malfoy around. Not to make sure that he became Teddy's favourite again.
But if Harry couldn't convince himself, then were his own excuses at all true?
------------
Harry had once again found himself waking Teddy the next morning, as if the sadness which now weighed on the young boys heart also weight on his energy. Whenever Teddy slept over in the past he would be wake long before Harry, excitedly bouncing on the end of his bed, asking what they would do that day before he returned home to his grandmother.
Except now, he never would.
Harry pushed the sadness way, instead focusing all his efforts on cheering up the young wizard. He told him that Ron and Hermione, who Teddy had met before, were coming for dinner and asked if Teddy would like to help him bake a cake. In all honesty, Harry was terrible at baking, but he knew Teddy had enjoyed making cakes with his grandmother and was desperate to find something to bring a smile to his face once again.
Because, of course, the pumpkin juice hadn’t worked; how could pumpkin juice replace a grandmother?
They set about their cake – a simple sponge, which Harry planned to let Teddy decorate in whichever way he liked – with Harry reading instructions from one of the many cookery and baking books he’d been given by Mrs Weasley when he first insisted on living alone (she’d made a great fuss of making sure he’d be eating properly, but as of yet the books had all lay untouched). Teddy followed Harry’s every instruction, from carefully pouring eggs Harry had cracked into the flour to mixing the ingredients with a wooden spoon which was ridiculously oversized for Teddy’s small grip, but was the only one Harry had been able to find. The cake soon went into the oven and Harry made lunch as it baked. When Harry’s wand glowed with the familiar red light of the modified Tempus charm which served as a timer, he bent down to the oven to retrieve their cake.
Harry groaned inwardly as he pulled the attempt from the heat; it wasn’t burnt, but it wasn’t cooked properly, either. The outer edges were golden, suggesting the illusion of a perfect cake, yet the inside had sagged and sunk pitifully, leaving a shrunken, deflated lump on the tray.
Harry quickly murmured “Engorgio”, using the charm to double the size of the cake so it looked a little more presentable. He plastered a smile onto his face as he presented the tray and a range of decorating tools to Teddy, but as he watched on he couldn’t help feeling that the cake and his shoddy attempt to improve it was a perfect metaphor for his current feelings; pathetic and hopeless. All he wanted to do was to make Teddy smile again.
He threw himself into preparing dinner and giving Teddy a bath before Ron and Hermione arrived. When they did, Ron greeted him with a large slap on the back.
“Harry, mate, I know Hermione’s said, but we’re sorry.” His best friends face was earnest as the apology left his lips and Harry gave a nod in appreciation of the gesture.
“Thanks, Ron.” He replied, watching as Hermione bent to greet Teddy, speaking softly to him as they took a seat on the sofa in the sitting room. Harry took the opportunity to slip away into the kitchen until their meal was ready. When it was he called them through and they sat together, eating at the table. Harry watched on as Hermione made conversation with Teddy, naturally chatting to the young boy as if he was replying with enthusiasm to her every word. Teddy didn’t appear as upset as he had done, but he was still quiet, still yet to smile. Ron joined in just as happily, chatting away to Teddy about dragons and broomsticks whenever his wife fell silent. As Harry cleared the plates, he watched as Ron leant over and placed a tender hand on his wife’s stomach. The sight made his stomach twist painfully; that simple gesture, the love a mother and father had for their child, was something Teddy would never truly have. It was also, Harry knew, something he would never experience for himself. He would never have a wife, never tenderly cradle a pregnant stomach, never seen his own child born. As his gaze shifted to Teddy, who was glugging down his second glass of pumpkin juice, Harry admitted several things to himself. He knew Ron and Hermione’s happiness was part of the reason his contact with them had slipped; although he was happy for them, their love made Harry feel like an outsider, like he was watching something he would never have. Secondly, he now knew, why Malfoy’s presence bothered him so much; he wanted to be the most important person in Teddy’s life now, he wanted to take the role that Hermione and Ron were soon to take, that Andromeda had little time to fulfil and Remus and Tonks even less so.
“Uncle Harry?” Teddy asked as he put down his empty glass.
“Yes?”
“Will Malfoy be back tomorrow?”
As the question spilled from Teddy’s lips, Harry watched the way Hermione and Ron’s jaws dropped open in surprise. Avoiding their questioning gazes, he turned to Teddy with a shrug.
“I don’t know, Teddy, I told you. I’m sorry.” He said, and he was. Sorry that he couldn’t give him an answer, sorry that he couldn’t cheer Teddy up, sorry that Malfoy once again appeared to best him in Teddy’s affections.
Instead of responding to Harry’s words, Teddy let out a long, drawn out yawn. Harry seized the opportunity, standing to stride across and lift him into his arms. “Bedtime for you, Ted.” He announced, offering Ron and Hermione a small, brief smile that didn’t reach his eyes before he swept from the room and upstairs to Teddy’s room. He relished in the warmth in his arms and the way Teddy burrowed closer, finding comfort in his embrace. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow, eyes softly closed as Harry tucked the covers of his bed around him. He watched the young boy sleep for a moment, knowing nothing but questions waited for him downstairs. With a sigh he carefully and quietly closed Teddy’s bedroom door and crept back to the room in which he knew his friends would still be waiting.
Waiting they were, but they asked nothing. Instead they sat, staring at Harry, silently willing him for an explanation. Harry allowed the words to tumble from his lips, detailing everything from the moment he entered Carin’s office to find Malfoy waiting, to the morning the blonde had returned to France to sort his affairs.
“Now Teddy won’t stop asking about him..” Harry sighed as his speech came to a close, knowing his face betrayed the resentment he felt.
“That’s only natural, Harry.” Hermione said soothingly, reaching out across the table to place a hand over his. “He’s already lost so much, it doesn’t mean that he doesn’t want you, just that he doesn’t want to lose anyone else…”
Harry knew her words were true yet they did little to console him. Deep down he did know that Teddy would be the same if it was Harry who had left but it didn’t stop the burning jealousy which consumed him when he thought of the influence Malfoy clearly had on Teddy’s life.
“It’s surprising, though, that Malfoy’s willing to completely abandon his life to move over here for Teddy. I can understand that his mother wanted to build bridges again after the war, but I never thought… I mean, to drop your entire life and move, especially to a country where many of the wizards still disregard your name… He must have changed to do something like that… I mean, I know you supported him at the trials, and you were right, he’s not evil… But this, this is more…” Hermione muttered on and Harry restrained himself from sighing aloud at her constant need to think aloud. He didn’t want to hear about how big of a gesture Malfoy was making, or how he must have changed, or anything that shed any form of positive light on the git. He especially didn’t want any acknowledgement of how Harry had been the first to tell the wizarding world Malfoy wasn’t evil – his current overwhelmingly bitter mood as enough to almost make him wish he hadn’t said a word and left him to rot.
Almost.
Thankfully, Ron was much more on his level.
“So the ferrets actually living here then?” He asked, receiving a sharp elbow in his ribs from Hermione for his comment.
“Yes.” Harry sighed, raking his hands through his hair. “I had to offer, at least until he gets his money through from selling his properties in France and can find somewhere over here. The sooner the better, I say.”
Ron nodded and Harry was glad to have his agreement.
“Guardianship is a serious thing though Harry. You’ll both be responsible for Teddy, everything that happens in his life…” Hermione spoke up again and Harry had to resist the temptation to growl in annoyance. She certainly had a talent for making Harry face truths he didn’t want to. He would, as long as he loved and cared for Teddy, have Malfoy in his life.
He faked a yawn, over exaggerating the gesture. It was, actually, quite late and although he wasn’t tired he sought solace in his own company. Put more bluntly, he wanted to wallow in his own self-pity.
“We should go.” Hermione said, standing as soon as she saw Harry’s yawn. “Make sure you look after yourself, Harry. You know where we are if you need us, please don’t forget that…” The look she gave him as she spoke made Harry’s hard mood soften, guilt once again rising within him for turning her away so easily.
“I know, thank you.” He said, rising to his feet to accept the hug she offered. Followed them through to the sitting room where the fire roared and would allow them to Floo home. With another farewell hug Hermione disappeared into the flames but Ron hung back.
“Seriously, mate, I know you’ve got a lot on but… We do worry about you. Don’t forget about us, ok? Especially now you’ve got Teddy and that git to deal with.” Ron clapped Harry firmly on his back, the strength of the manly gesture clearly over exaggerated to balance out his emotional words. “Like Hermione said, we’re always here. Make sure you remember that.”
“I know, thank you.” He replied, repeating the same words he had to Hermione. He watched his friend disappear into the flames and released a breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding. In the same instance, a large horned owl tapped sharply on the glass of the sitting room window. Harry hurried over to allow the bird in; he didn’t recognise it, yet he knew not anyone could get back his homes wards. He took the parchment and uncurled it, reading the neat, looped script which covered the page.
Potter,
Everything is in order here and I shall be returning to England tomorrow. In the papers we signed at the Ministry, there was a clause that allowed contact between ourselves to be permitted as we are both Teddy’s guardians, so I know this owl will get through your wards. However, I think my physical presence will have less success getting past them as it wasn’t explicitly stated that we would be sharing a residence. I was, of course, allowed into your home in the first instance as I arrived with you and did not leave during that time. I will return at 12 noon tomorrow and I would appreciate it if you could allow the wards to accept my direct return.
Malfoy
Harry sneered openly at the note in his hands, only looking up as he felt a brush of wind as the large owl flew out of the window – apparently Malfoy wasn’t expecting a reply. He closed the window behind the bird, and threw the note into the flames, watching as the parchment turned to ash. He knew, however, that he had little choice than to alter the wards for Malfoy’s return. He lifted his wand and murmured the elaborate Latin which would expose the wards to his magic. As an old, pureblood property, the ancient Black house had many layers of wards which could take hours and significant magical drain to work through. However Harry only had to alter the layer of wards set most recently, the ones he set himself as the owner of the property. He opened the wards which controlled his post, recognising the new name added to the persons whom were permitted to pass letters through the wards.
Draco Malfoy
Obviously he should read magical contracts more thoroughly before he signed them in future, Harry thought to himself as he wrapped his magic around the name. It would have been pointless anyway, he conceded, as he would need to contact Malfoy if they were to both be Teddy’s guardians – it was hardly a point he could have disputed. His magic was now securely connected to Malfoy’s name and Harry concentrated his mind and his magic on allowing the wards which controlled direct access to Harry’s home to connect to Malfoy’s signature. When he felt the tingle of magic which told him the wards had altered, Harry opened his eyes and murmured the incantation which would close the wards once more.
On his way to bed he paused at Teddy’s door, pushing it open to allow the slightest crack through which Harry could gaze at his sleeping godson.
“Tomorrow..” He whispered through the gap in the door, as if his answer to Teddy’s earlier question would seep through into his dreams.