Chapter Text
Malfoy Manor was unusually quiet during this time of the day. The normal patter of little feet and laughter was noticeably silent. Draco Malfoy sat across from his father rifling over a stack of marriage and inheritance contracts with a fine-tooth comb. “Brilliant, just… brilliant,” growled Lucius under his breath. “How could you allow this to happen, boy?”
Draco sighed heavily and kept his eyes glued to his papers. He was growing quite tired of being called ‘boy’ every five minutes. He hadn’t been a boy in nearly twelve years.
“This is ridiculous. You’re going to lose us every gold galleon that has been in this family for centuries. Not to mention…” He looked away as his words trailed off.
“Maybe you shouldn’t have sent me off to France,” Draco said. He looked down at his fourteenth child as she played with her toys beside his chair. “Darling, go on and find the nanny.” The tiny white-haired girl got up and ran out into the hall.
“Being a Malfoy, it is your job to at least do a bit of research into a woman’s lineage before you marry her. You assured me Matilda was a pureblood witch, not a pureblood Veela. You told me that bitch of a sister-in-law of mine had her screened,” said Lucius, curling his top lip up in a snarl. “But, as always, Andromeda manages to single-handedly destroy the family once more.”
“I had no choice. It was arranged without my consent.” Draco dropped his head in his hands. “I’m screwed. I’m nearly positive none of the harpies are really my children but I can’t prove it. If we could have one tested and it’s not mine, would that negate this?”
“Out of fourteen children only one is a witch. You’re probably right but that won’t help you. This contract is very specific about what your actions cause; not hers.” Lucius stood up and walked out of the den shaking his head sadly. “Very specific… wait a moment,” he murmured, easing himself back into the room. Crouching down in front of his file cabinet, he opened the bottom drawer and began skimming through its contents.
“What are you looking for?” Draco looked up from the desk to see what he was up to.
Lucius opened a large folder, packed with hundreds of photocopies. As he flipped through the pages his unsteady sighs grew deeper and more frequent.
Draco stood up, placing his weight over the desk to peer over his shoulder. Lucius plucked a few pages out of the folder and rested them on his knees. His head moved side by side, skimming over the encrypted words.
“What is it?”
“Yes! Yes, this is it!”
Giving Draco a shove back into his chair, Lucius tossed down several folders over the desk. “He’s still alive… I’m nearly positive. He would have to be,” he mumbled under his breath, scanning over page after page of documents. “Aha! As long as there’s a Horcrux out there it stays intact! Yes!”
“Father?”
“Oh, I’ve got it! Wait here!” cried Lucius, leaping over the desk to clutch his son’s shirt. He yanked him up and kissed him square on the lips before thrusting him back into his chair. He ran out of the room, the stacks of papers in his arms flying around the hall as he ran through the corridors.
“What have you got?!” cried Draco, thoroughly dazed.
“Ha ha! You’re not going to like this...” sung Lucius, grinning evilly as he reentered the room more than an hour later. “Neither will he.”
“He— who is he?” Draco fidgeted around with the buttons on his cuff, avoiding his father’s exuberant gaze.
“It was difficult. I can’t believe I actually got it. Cost me ten thousand galleons but the little fraud gave up the location.” Lucius shoved a piece of parchment into Draco’s hand. “Secret keepers are basically bribes waiting to happen in this day and age.”
“What is this?” he asked, looking down at the numbers and street name.
“That’s Severus Snape’s street address. It’s rumoured he lives there with him. It’s heavily warded against visitors, you’d better find a way to get in there,” said Lucius, crossing his arms in victory. “You owe me, boy. Oh, do you ever owe me.”
A rough head scratching while looking at the paper revealed nothing to Draco. He looked up at his father in complete confusedness and shrugged his shoulders. “I give up. What am I missing here?”
Lucius lost his impish grin. “What I’m about to tell you remains between us. It is a perversion, what they did. You tell no one. Do you understand?”
Draco nodded.
“I’m sure you can remember when You-Know-Who began killing just about anyone he deemed unfit in the wizarding world...” Lucius frowned as the words left his mouth. His wife was one such victim. “Anyway, he began experimenting on wizards. The prisoners in the camps who were strong enough to endure his torture were all rounded up and used as guinea pigs.”
Draco cocked an eyebrow. Severus was a prisoner, so were many of his classmates and friends. No one was safe once the Dark Lord had taken control over the Ministry. “Does this have something to do with Severus?” he asked. Snape was a touchy subject to Lucius.
Lucius shrugged. “Not directly. Although, I am aware that he was also used in other ways. I haven’t spoken to the man in nearly a year, and even then his words were few and far between. Something along the lines of ‘kill yourself’ and ‘you are dead to me’.”
“What were these experiments?”
“There was one boy whom the Dark Lord had a particular interest in. I’m sure you know of whom I’m speaking.” As Draco squinted in uncertainly, he nodded for him to continue. “Harry Potter. He was a prisoner there before he managed to kill off the old snake. Seven years, Draco. Seven years of torture and humiliation as The Dark Lord’s private plaything.”
“I didn’t know it was that bad. I thought, well, you know, they said it was just holding camps,” said Draco, furrowing his brow.
“Potter was captured shortly after completing his mission to destroy some ancient magic the Dark Lord had used to keep himself immortal. Horcruxes. He was eighteen years old. The Dark Lord, instead of killing him, realised part of his soul was attached to the boy, his last remaining Horcrux. He kept the boy’s friends alive to keep him compliant.”
Draco shivered. “You mean Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger?”
Lucius read over the papers. “Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, Ginny Weasley and Severus Snape were all housed together. The male Weasley, Granger and Snape survived. The Ministry denies that Mr. Potter escaped after Voldemort disappeared, they claim he’s dead.
“But I’m going off-track, where was I? Oh, yes. They experimented on all of them in one way or another, something ancient and horrible. I have the paperwork here, copies of the encampment files. It turns out that through that scar, Potter could wield a magic that was imprinted on him by his mother’s sacrifice to save his life. He was granted Love magic. It, and the Horcrux the Dark Lord gave him made him un-killable, far more powerful than he himself.”
“So Lord Voldemort experimented on him? Did you see any of this when he finally released you from prison?”
“I did,” Lucius said, frowning. “To be honest, I didn’t care what happened to any of them, except maybe Snape. I hardly saw Potter, he was kept elsewhere. You-Know-Who was obsessed with him, as he always had been in one way or another. Completely mental about him, he was. If someone looked at the boy for too long they’d be certainly hexed, or sometimes outright killed. I don’t know the details of what they did to Potter, but I do know the results. Results that will help you if you can pull this off.”
Draco blinked at him. “And that is…?”
Feeling uneasy about recounting this terrible thing, Lucius swallowed back the bile threatening to come up and spill out of him. “Okay, after testing the findings of hundreds of ancient, elder, modern and newly created curses on all of the Mudbloods, Half-Bloods and blood traitors they had captured, the Dark Lord himself cursed Potter with the most successful ones - to serve his purposes.He wanted to fuse Potter’s and his magical DNA together to birth a wizard that could wield both Parsel and Love magics. See where I’m heading, boy?”
The younger Malfoy shrugged. “Uh…experimenting with genetics - through curses? What kind of curses did he give him? What, what, what?”
Lucius clicked his tongue. “The Dark Lord gave the boy something that might just be able to help you out.” Grey eyes lit up gloriously.
"Okay..." Draco was almost afraid to ask. “What did they give him that could help me out?”
Lucius leaned in closely, peering down each side of the hallway to be certain no one was around. “The ability to magically create life.”
Draco blinked. “Are you saying…?”
Lucius dangled the files in front of him. “This marriage contract states you can never produce another child, let alone an heir, with another woman. Woman, Draco - He’s a man.”
“Er, I get what you’re saying… I think. I didn’t think that was possible. I’ve never heard of such a thing. Are you certain this happened? Why would he do that? What the fuck…” Draco looked like he might be sick. Even trying to imagine what his father was telling him made his skin crawl. Suddenly, he didn't think he wanted to know what happened in those camps. His mother was one of the prisoners in those camps. “Does he like…have a…is he a woman now? What the fuck, father? Did they do these thing to my mother, too? What were you people doing in these camps?”
“It’s not like that,” Lucius said. His cheeks were pink with embarrassment and shame. “Potter’s a man, he's all man. He doesn’t actually become pregnant…physically. It’s very complicated. It's like the growth is a parasite that consumes him to grow larger, stronger, to take on his DNA and become human. It doesn't start off as an embryo, I don't believe. I do remember that the boy, Potter, nearly died when they did this to him. He grew very weak, very sick, and the Dark Lord had all of his alchemists working day and night to save him."
"Is this really true?" Draco asked him, finding this tale hard to believe...in a sense that he now knew his father was working for Voldemort in the camps while these atrocities were happening. "And what about my mother...?"
"Look, Draco, we'll speak about the happenings inside the camps another time. Right now we need to focus our minds on this daunting task before it's too late." Lucius began to shake with worry. He was and would always be a coward, a man who couldn't save his wife and almost lost his son - the boy who had no idea how close he came to being hunted down and murdered, too. "Back to Potter," he said after clearing his throat. "I was told to watch over him when our master brought him out of his manor. He certainly never looked pregnant or fat or whatever, even days before he birthed it. That could have been an illusion charm; I’ll ask my contacts. The thing is...well, You-Know-Who wanted Potter to look and remain young and pretty forever. He was not to carry any blemishes, no marks. It was all very strange, a very uncomfortable time in my memory, for sure. The Dark Lord's own physical appearance began to change shortly thereafter. I was told his new human appearance was actually his true image, that he was quite the charming looker in his prime...before the darkness bled into him. And Potter remained young, pretty at all times...no matter how badly they treated him. And from what I hear Potter should have been dead more times than you can imagine. And then after, once the child was born...the Dark Lord took Potter on as his sole property, made him his personal whore, a kept possession that no other could ever touch again. They both looked like…you know, they were both really handsome.”
“Yeah, Potter was handsome,” Draco murmured, garnering him a look from his father.
“Oh, that’s right. I keep forgetting you’re a shirt lifter when I think of how many children you have.” Lucius shrugged off his disdain. “It’ll be a bonus for you in this situation, I suppose. You’ll have to copulate in order to activate whatever it does to make it happen. I’m positive of that. One of my contacts told me all about the monster and the niceties of screwing the Potter boy - in every way he could screw him, metaphorically and literally. That was something You-Know-Who insisted upon. He, it became known, was a bloody shirt lifter, too.”
“Merlin, father,” Draco said. His hand was on his neck, he looked pained. Knowing his own father took more disgust in his sexuality than the tale he was spinning at that moment was somewhat of an eye opener. “Doesn’t matter, he’s probably dead. I've heard he died killing the Dark Lord. And even if he wasn’t, he’s not going to open his door for me. We weren't exactly the best of friends. I’ll have to send off a letter or something.”
Shaking his head madly, Lucius threw down the files in front of his son. “Harry Potter is not dead, I’m nearly positive. However, you are correct; we were particularly unpleasant to him when he was a boy. I hardly think he’ll grant your wish through owl mail so you can keep our fortune. You’re going to have to appeal to him with the stark truth. Once you find a way inside, take the little one with you. Explain to him what losing our fortune really intails, Draco, give it everything you’ve got.”
Draco sighed. This task seemed impossible. “Right.”
Memorising the address made the large old house appear easily enough, getting to the front door was the problem. Draco watched as a blue bird flew a bit too close to the large home and fell to the ground as a pile of ash, completely incinerated. Obviously, the wards were a bit stronger here than on the average wizarding home. Three days he sat in front of it, watching, waiting for someone to enter or exit. Lucius had told him that the floo network attached to the building was also warded. It was impossible to apparate or disapparate either. The only entrance and exit was walking in or out thought the large front doors.
The crooked old street still showed the signs of war. It had been over for nearly three years and Draco hardly saw any of it, as he was sent away just before it started. He met his former wife the day he turned eighteen, and was made to marry her one whole week later. He lost everyone he ever loved, besides his father, when it finally ended by the thankful hand of the one and only Boy-Who-Lived. Harry disappeared the day Lord Voldemort died and hadn’t been seen since. The Ministry of Magic claimed Potter dead, but Draco could feel it, someone important was in that house.
As if Merlin himself smiled down on the young man, Draco’s eyes widened seeing an awfully familiar looking couple walk up to the front of the house. They peered around carelessly as Draco ducked down behind the tree he’d began to call ‘home’, and the redheaded man cast a very interesting and memorable spell in front of him to disable the wards. Instantly, lights flickered and died around the old building, and the witch and wizard walked up to the door.
Draco caught sight of Severus Snape as it opened to Ron and Hermione Weasley inside.
“Well I’ll be damned...”
“How in the hell did you get this address?” asked Draco, glaring at Lucius. “He’s got to be in there, father. This is serious. What if it gets out that he's still alive? Who was their secret keeper?”
Lucius waved it off. “Don’t worry - no one else will get the address. They had to use this...this person as a secret keeper as the Weasleys were still in the camps. He's one of their sort. Fortunately, he was down on his luck...relationship-wise, that is. He was sworn to secrecy with an offer he couldn't refuse, and he gave it up willingly in exchange for a glorious reward. No one else will ever get this information.”
Draco's eyes narrowed with unconscious distrust. “You got it. You knew...”
“I know everything,” Lucius argued. “Do you honestly think I'd set this up without insuring yours and the child's safety? I told you not to worry about it.”
“Whatever. I find this sudden knowledge of yours extremely suspicious. I’ll go and see them tomorrow. Right now I have to give Cissy her bath,” Draco told him as he walked off.
“Don’t wait too long,” his father said under his breath as his son turned the corner, “We’ll have to go with plan B if you fail.”
“Come here, love,” Draco picked the angelic three year old up from in front of her mound of toys and carried her off into the bath. He sat her on his lap as he filled the tub, giving her a gentle hug around her waist. “Were you good for papa while I was gone?”
“Mhm,” she said, smiling up at her daddy. She held her arms up as Draco lifted her sundress up over her head.
“Do you want to go with me tomorrow to meet someone?” He lowered her into the sudsy water.
“Yes,” she replied, grabbing her ducky from the bath toy basket.
Draco tipped her head back and poured a cup filled with water over her hair, soaking it thoroughly. The ducky began swimming around the tub, quacking loudly. Smiling sadly down at his only child left with him, he rubbed a pea-sized amount of shampoo into her hair and formed the suds up into a giant ball. “You promise to be very good for me? We’re going to see an old school professor and classmate of mine.” He ran his shaky hand through his own long white hair, pushing the chin lengths strands away from his forehead.
“Uh huh,” she grunted, lost in an attempt on making her toy cooperate and float in a straight line. She bit down at her tongue, trapping it between her teeth in stark concentration.
"Okay, let's finish this up, love." Draco rinsed her hair and washed her up as she splashed water all over the floor. He wrapped her in a towel and carried back out into her bedroom. She picked out her favourite nightgown and held her arms up as Draco slipped it on, then pulled her pants up and took her into his arms. Holding her up above his head, he spun around as she screamed in delight.
“Faster!”
“I’m going to be sick if I go any faster!” he exclaimed through fits of laughter. They both fell back on the large four-poster, out of breath and completely dizzy. Draco tucked her in under the covers and kissed her forehead. “I’m the best hair dryer in the whole world, now get some sleep, I love you.”
“I wuff you,” she said, holding his hand. She kissed it and closed her eyes.
Landing easily back in front of the old house with Narcissa strapped to his chest, Draco shrunk his broom and held up his wand, disabling the wards surrounding it. He hadn’t felt this nervous in years. He looked down at his free hand, seeing it shake uncontrollably. Unbuckling the child, he took her hand and walked up the path.
The front door opened and Severus Snape stuck his head out curiously. “Draco Malfoy?”
Draco lifted Narcissa back up in his arms and scurried up to the door. “Hey, Severus, it's been a while, eh? Err, can we come in?” he asked. Snape looked old, worn out, as if he hadn’t slept in years. His lengthy black hair was streaked with grey and hung in dull limp strands over his shoulders. His posture lacked it’s once looming overtone. He'd been put through the ringer, but he came out alive.
He opened the door and ushered them inside quickly. “Come on then. No dilly dally, son. How did you...Your father,” he said gloomily, showing his clear distaste. A noise vibrated in his throat, its depth and tone strung along in utter disappointment. "How is he? Dead, I hope?"
“Yeah, no, he's still alive...sorry, Sev,” he replied. He looked around the modestly furnished sitting room casually. It was pleasant, clean, the atmosphere around them making him feel welcome. It looked like a home; a real home, where people lived happily and hugged their children as they read bedtime stories to them. So unlike Malfoy Manor and it's cold hollowness. This looked like something he’d always dreamed of but had never touched before. He looked back at Severus and smiled with envy. “Nice place, and umm...I need to talk to Harry Potter.”
"Beg pardon?" Severus’s eyes widened briefly. “Harry Potter…I don’t know what you mean. He is dead, died years back. Okay then,” he said in a sing-songy voice as he moved back to the front door, "good to see you again. Tell your father I said die. I mean 'hi'."
“Don’t-hold that thought.” Holding up a finger to pause this situation, Draco dashed off and set Narcissa down in a chair at the opposite side of the room. He patted her head and forced a smile to comfort her. “Stay here.”
“Okay,” she said, kicking her legs over the side of the chair.
He ran back to Severus, cocking his eyebrow as he crossed his arms over his chest. He was a Malfoy through and through; Malfoys were tall, strong, opinionated, and they always got what they wanted. “Don’t fuck around, Snape, I'm not stupid. There's no way in hell you live here on your own in this homey setting. You're as cold as they come; then and now. He's here. I know he’s here.”
Severus eyed at the small girl across the room, hardly intimidated with the younger Malfoy heir. “Is that your child?” he asked, looking her over carefully. A small smile curled up at the corners of his mouth. She was literally a pint-sized version of Draco's dead mother, mimicking nearly every physical feature she possessed. She was also blessed with Malfoy white hair and pale grey eyes. She looked like a tiny angel sitting there on the seat, flirting with her father with little smiles and giggles. “She looks just like Narcissa. So much so...she’s beautiful.”
“Her name is Cissy. She’s my fourteenth. My ex-wife has the others.” Draco gave the small child a wink and a wave. She waved back; her enormous grey eyes attempted to wink, but only managed to blink. “She was the only one who didn’t turn out like her; a psychotic Veela. I mean, she is half-Veela and she’s a witch, when none of my other lovely daughters failed to become. So, of course, she was rejected by her wicked mother,” he added.
“Perhaps she’d like to meet Harry’s little boy. He’s upstairs in his room. He has loads of toys,” Severus commented, directing his words to the little girl.
“Okay!” she said, climbing off the chair and running over to his side.
“Follow me.” Severus walked up the stairs in the back of the room. Draco and Narcissa followed closely behind. They reached a small darkened hallway. With a wave of his wand, Severus lit the torches on the corridor walls and beckoned them over to him.
Opening the first door on the left, Severus stepped inside and ushered them both in with him.
Like the front of the home, this was as lovely a bedroom as a homey home could have. It was decorated in luminous blue chalks and dark stained wood. It was filled with little furniture and mounds of toys. And in the farthest corner of the room, there sat a small boy of about three or four years, drawing in a colouring book on the floor.
Instantly, Draco knew this child was Harry Potter’s son. "Wow, this a mini Potter?"
The boy looked up at them nervously; he looked very much like Harry when he was young; with untidy jet-black hair, adorable cherubic face and the green in his hazel eyes practically glowed; there was little doubt in his mind about that.
"Well, yes, genius," Snape replied.
“Hullo,” the boy said, and stood up from the floor. He was much taller than an average three year old. His little shorts had bunched up on his thighs and his t-shirt rode up on his tummy. He patted the crown of his head to hide the spikes of hair jutting out at every angle, staring back at the very tall elfish-looking man next to Severus in trepidation. There was a little scar on his upper arm that looked very familiar. It was in the shape of a lightning bolt, just like the one Harry had. "I didn't think you could inherit scars."
“Don't be stupid. Marvolo, this is Cissy,” Severus said in introduction, gesturing to the timid girl who was twisting her dress up in her hands while staring at the floor intently.
Draco leered. “Marvolo?”
Severus waved the question away.
“Hi,” he said, giving his attention and a sweet smile to the little white-haired girl.
“Hi,” she replied, her voice cracked and she hid quickly behind Draco’s legs in complete humiliation. The handsome blond chuckled and walked her back into view.
Severus nearly smiled. “Marvolo, do you think Cissy can colour with you while I talk to her father?”
“Yeah, of course.” Marvolo smiled, excited to play with someone else who was not a boring, stuffy adult. He walked over and held out his hand to the other child. Cissy took it and let him lead her over to his colouring book. “You sit here, little girl,” he said, pointing to the spot opposite of his sitting area. “You may watch me colour, or you can help me, if you’d like." He dropped a handful of crayons in front of her as she settled down onto her stomach. "Use those colours.” She grabbed up several crayons as the boy plopped down on his stomach once more to resume his colouring.
“They’ll be fine,” Severus said, and stepped out into the hall. Draco followed and closed the door behind him.
“So, that’s Potter's son? Who’s his mother; Granger?” he asked. “Or the...You know, what my father...That’s not the…uh…”
Severus’ lip twitched. “That’s for Harry to tell if he chooses,” he replied. “Unlike your cockroach of a father, I do not give up secrets so easily. Now, why do you want to see him? Harry was never a friend of yours, Draco.”
“I have a proposition to make. I’m in a bit of a bind and been told he’s my last hope.” Draco ran his fingers through his hair, wishing he could crawl up in a corner and hide. The look Snape was giving him was humiliating.
“And what is this proposition?” said Severus, a slight sneer appearing on his features, unnerving Draco.
“I’d prefer to discuss this with him, Sev.”
“Discuss what?” a voice said behind them.
Draco and Severus turned around.
Harry Potter was standing there, very much alive and kicking. He hadn’t aged a day, Draco thought to himself as he scanned him over. Nothing much about him had changed at all; he still had that same unruly hair and rounded glasses perched on his nose, hiding his sweet face. If anything, he looked more attractive than he’d remembered him looking. His bright green eyes scanned Draco over as well before centring on his face, narrowing. Harry’s clothing was impeccably neat but it covered every inch of his body, showing only his face and tips of his fingers. Odd for the summer months, he thought.
Harry tugged at his sleeves unconsciously, seeing Draco’s eyes focus on them. “Draco Malfoy, back from the hole he buried his head in. You look healthy, vibrant, unaffected by the ravages of war. I do hope all that rest and relaxation in France suited you,” he said, cocking his eyebrow. He turned to Snape, pointing a shaking finger at Draco. “What’s he doing standing here by my boy’s room?”
Severus smiled, ignoring the sneer. “He brought his own young child. I put her in with Marvolo to play so you two could talk without interruption.”
“Ah,” Harry replied, looking slightly less concerned. His attention returned to his former rival. “Why is he here? How did he get inside?”
Severus stood quietly as both men sized the other up for several long minutes. Rolling his eyes in boredom, he walked across the hall and pointed to his den. “Please, you should talk in here. I’ll watch the children.”
Harry nodded and walked past the other man without a word. Draco walked in behind him and closed the door, shaking like a leaf.
Harry sat back in the desk chair eyeing his old nemesis. He tugged his sleeves down again, hiding his fingers from view. He was unreadable; Draco had no idea how badly the war had effected him. He did not smile or scowl, he just sat in stoic grace as he waited for the blond to begin. "Well, say something," he told him. He was somewhat relishing in the way his presence was making this old nemesis squirm.
Draco cleared his throat with nervousness. “Okay, I know this may sound extremely selfish and rude, but I swear I’ll make it very worth your while,” he began, hating the sound of his words.
"Selfish and rude? No-you?" Potter replied, smirking at him.
"Right." Draco knew he deserved that jab. He wasn't going to let it unnerve him, not when something this important needed to be said. “I heard you, uh, I...well, I-”
“You heard what?” Harry asked him.
Cringing, Draco dug his fingernails into his thigh to keep his composure. “This isn’t easy. Maybe I should explain myself first, about my wife and family.”
Harry nodded and leaned further back into his chair in a more relaxed posture.
Draco chose to look away as he began, to give Harry the respect he deserved for ending the war by killing the Dark Lord. It was hard sitting there, now knowing the young man had been used as a slave when his biggest worry during that time was being on middle-of-the-night bottle feedings. “Shortly after the war went into full swing, I was thrown into an arranged marriage. My mother...well, she put me in hiding on my father’s advice before the war started. You know, after the uh, the Dumbledore incident. I lived with my aunt in this little French Muggle village that filled up with witches and wizards in a matter of days, all of them being sent into hiding like me. My auntie started getting death threats, all directed at me because of who my father was and his loyalty to the Dark Lord. She got desperate, she promises this important Veela family I'll marry their daughter in exchange for their protection. It didn’t matter that I was gay. I was told I would love her unconditionally because Veelas have some kind of power over all men.”
“Is that true?” Harry asked, remembering the powerful attraction Ron had felt for Fleur Delacour during their forth year. He could remember his own need to impress the Veelas at the Quidditch World Cup. And, hearing Draco admit that he was also gay was intriguing, to say the least.
Draco finally looked Harry in the eye and shook his head. “Not at all. But, since my mother was dead by then and father was still in Azkaban, Aunt Andromeda, the Muggle-loving nutter, had become my guardian. She made me sign contracts I didn’t get to read. This was a week before my eighteenth birthday. I married this mad cow-of-a woman one week later - and had thirteen very odd daughters with her, all of whom loathe me with murderous passion."
"Thirteen?" Harry blinked. "The war started a little more than ten years ago."
Nodding, Draco explained. "They just began popping out like litters of puppies. First twins, and then a set of triplets, another set of triplets, then twins again, then another set of triplets…and finally my last one, Narcissa, was born.
“Well, she was different. While all the others bore Veela facial features and innate traits like their mummy, she looked like me, she was a Malfoy. And I do think I recall having sex with Matilda about nine months before she was born, when I couldn’t remember really being intimate with her before that, besides maybe our wedding night. It’s all a blur; I was drunk throughout the entire marriage. The first thirteen are probably not mine. They all looked so different from me and Narcissa, and they get frighteningly emotional, even at birth. A hungry dominant monster baby is not, in the least, adorable.”
“Monster babies? What did they look like?” said Harry, stifling a smirk.
“Err...Veelas,” he replied. “They’re all Veelas. All of them, except Cissy.”
“Unnaturally beautiful? Like Fleur Delacour? She was one quarter Veela.”
“Yes, but only Cissy was born as a half-Veela half-witch for some reason. It’s as if my genes were lost to the other thirteen. They are magical creatures, but none of them are witches.”
Harry leaned in closer with interest. “So, they’re not like fully human? I recall those Veela mascots looking quite human at the Quidditch World Cup.”
“Sure, when they're getting their way and the money is plentiful, but not when they’re angry with you.” Draco said with a strange titter. “Dear god, it was a nightmare. They grow…beaks and they sprout these leathery wings from their shoulderblades. They hurl balls of fire at you if you tell them they can’t have a biscuit after ten. These girls were always angry with me.”
“I can't imagine why,” Harry said, snickering.
Trying to stay grounded, Draco let the insult slide. “Anyway, the day Cissy was born; the old cow went completely mad. Said we ruined her. I went back home and the war was ending. Then I get a letter a few days ago demanding a divorce, which is fine with me. I never cared for the wretched beast and it assured me that being gay wasn’t such a bad thing after all. But then I got to read the contracts, I nearly died.” He dropped his head in his hands for a moment, hiding his anger.
Harry listened to his heavy breaths between his hands. “Are you okay?” he asked.
Draco looked up, snapping from his reverie. “Oh, yeah, sorry,” he said softly, his face flushed and pink.
“So, what’d the contracts say? Let me guess; she gets everything?”
Draco blanched. “Yeah, everything I possess if I don’t produce an heir by my thirtieth birthday.”
“You have an heir. Fourteen of them,” Harry replied, growing wary. This was not what he expected to hear. He hoped this conversation would not shift to his ability to-
“A male, Potter.. I have to have a male heir. I find out this was written into the marriage contract, as well as my inheritance. Well, turns out she can’t have males! Her line of Veela cannot produce male offspring. Her family duped us into signing away my fortune. And, to top it off, she was using me to farm harpy babies for her while she waited for me to age or die.”
Harry pursed his lips. He fidgeted in place for a moment, toying with a quill on the desk. Without looking up, he said, “Why can’t you have a child with someone else? Does the contract say it has to be with her?”
"No, not at all." Draco felt his heart begin its plummet into his stomach. “See, that’s where this gets tricky. When Cissy was born Matilda got pretty nervous. The chances of her having a son looked more plausible after giving birth to a Veela who was also a witch. Perhaps her lineage was not as pure and ‘all female’ as she had been told." He stopped to breathe. Looking Potter in the eye while he worked out how to ask him to give him an heir inside his head took up too much brain power. He could see that Harry was more intelligent than he assumed his was. That Harry was already trying to quess what he was about to ask. "The contract it states...well, this is where you come in. Just let me finish before you chuck me out, okay?”
Harry bit his lower lip, but nodded curtly. His light green eyes were locked onto Draco, making it difficult for him to spit it out. He flicked his fingers at him in a tetchy manner, growing more than just cautious. "Spit it out, Malfoy."
Taking several large breaths, Draco found the courage to ask him for help. “Malfoy bloodlines must be carried on, hence the need for a male. They knew this and exploited it, but they made a very small mistake my father discovered last week. I have to have a male heir, but I can not adopt, donate sperm to, or have intercourse— impregnate in any way, shape or form with another - Oh Merlin, here we go...another woman. If I do not have this male heir by midnight on my thirtieth birthday, we will lose everything I now or will possess.”
Harry heaved in a deep breath of his own, so he could use it to start shouting. “Are you fucking joking? Forget it, Malfoy!” He stood from his chair abruptly, knocking it to the floor.
“You said you’d let me finish!” Draco hissed back, knocking his own chair away as he stood up. "You haven't heard the details yet!"
“What do you think you could possibly say to make me want to say ‘yes’ to you? Offer me money? I don’t need it! I don’t need this in my life. I won’t be your baby farm, Malfoy! Get the hell out of here!” he shouted as he pointed to the door.
Draco screwed up his features and balled his hands into fists. “When I said lose everything, I meant EVERYTHING! That includes my daughter!”
Harry froze. His jaw hung open like a fish as he began to register what the ex-Slytherin was implying. “But…er, you could visit her, I’m sure. I do understand what you’re saying, you know…”
“No, you don’t get it.” Draco looked up at him with tears of frustration welling up in his eyes. “Look, Potter, it's not that simple...I don’t care about the money, and I’d run and hide her away if I could. But with the contract magically bound to me they would find us no matter where we go." The tears grew too large to stay suspended on his bottom lashes and left a trail of damp sadness drawn on his cheeks. "Besides my mother, Cissy is the only thing I have ever truly loved. She is all I have in the world. She is the only thing I have ever done right by. I strive to be a better person because of her. I want her to be proud of me, I want to set an example for her...she's all I have, Potter, all I have.”
There was a long pregnant pause. Harry looked down at the desk, averting his eyes from his former rival.
Draco turned his chair upright with wavering fingers and sat back down. He brushed the long strands of silvery-white hair from his face and composed himself for a moment.
Harry could not imagine his own child being taken away from him. But, then again, his child's other parent was no mere Veela. Even so, the thought of losing his only child began to melt the ice encasing his heart.
“Look, I’ll give you anything you want, Potter,” Draco said, shrugging with defeat. “I'm almost positive Matilda was trying to drown her in the sink the day I took Cissy and left. I walked into the loo, she had her submerged in water, she was hunched over her with sprouted wings. So you see, if she gets her back, and she will get her back once I hit thirty if I do not have this heir…she will probably kill her to hide the evidence of her imperfect bloodline.”
Harry closed his mouth, the angry words he was trying to spew had long since died. He crossed his arms over his chest as he watched Draco wipe a tear away from his cheek. The man was a mess. He was truly desperate. With a deep breath, Harry let himself calm his heated temper in order to continue. He righted his chair and sat down, leaning into the desk. “So let me get this straight; you want me to give you a son, an heir before you turn thirty...what if I say 'yes', what’s to become of this child? - What happens to this baby?” His words were cold but understandable. It was a question Draco himself had not pondered over yet.
"I don't know." Draco scrubbed his face in his hands, feeling drained. “Whatever you want, Potter...I'll give you anything you want.”
As a glimmer of hope took hold of all rational thought, Harry looked back at him. He slapped down on the desktop as he leaned in toward the other man. His eyes grew dark. “There is something I want.”
"Did you meet with him?" Lucius greeted his son in the parlour of Malfoy Manor, bombarding him with questions about the visit. “What did he say? Will he do it?”
Draco walked with Cissy to her room, pretending he hadn’t noticed the older man. “Are you ready for bed?”
"Do not leave me hanging, boy." Snapping his fingers, a small house-elf popped into the room in response.
“You called me, Master Malfoy?”
“Yes, please put Narcissa to bed so I can talk with her father,” Lucius said with a sneer. He grabbed Draco’s arm and wrenched him from the room as the other man blew a kiss to the little girl climbing up in her bed. He dragged him down the long hallway and shoved him into the den. “Now, tell me everything.”
“He said he’s going to think about it,” Draco replied, as if Potter was considering buying a new kitchen appliance.
Lucius sighed. He didn’t really want to revert to plan B but his son’s news didn’t sound very promising. He closed the door to the den and put his back against the wall. He tipped his head, letting the evil half of his brain take over. “How hard do you think it would be to kidnap him?”
Draco cocked his head. “What?”
“Potter. We’ll kidnap him. I’m thinking tonight.”
“No.”
“Tomorrow?” Lucius asked him, shrugging.
Draco groaned. “No. We’re not going to kidnap him any time, you old fool. I think he’s been through enough already.”
Having not considered what horrors Harry had gone through during the war or how uncouth kidnapping him was, Lucius clenched up, furious at Potter's lack of empathy for him. “I thought he was a hero. Is he aware you’ll lose that child? That she’ll die? I won’t risk it!”
“We’re going to meet again tomorrow about doing this. But first, he needs to discuss it with…Gods, he needs to talk it over with the Weasleys.”
Lucius made a face. “All of them? Could take years.”
“It’s only Ron and Hermione. I’m sure that’ll go over well. Those three were my worst enemies in school.” Draco yawned and stretched, needing a good nights rest. He had exhausted himself with worry, something he found himself doing every single night since he received that letter. “I’m tired, going to bed.”
“Draco, if he doesn’t agree by tomorrow plan B will go into effect. I will have it arranged,” Lucius said as his son passed him to leave.
Ignoring him, Draco shoved by him and left. Harry would do it – he knew he would.
Harry sat behind his desk silently as he listened to his friends go over all of the details he had given them about Malfoy and his proposition. This discussion was just as awkward and uncomfortable as the one he had with Malfoy the day before. He watched their body language, how both of them had adopted defencive postures at the idea of doing anything for Draco Malfoy, let alone risk his life to again do the unnatural.
Hermione sat back in her seat dazedly, shaking her head for nearly an hour. "I'm still trying to figure out whether this is some sort of sick prank you're playing on his, Harry. Please tell me this is a joke."
Ron was a lot more dramatic about it. He sat on the edge of Harry’s desk polishing his Auror badge, something he normally did when he wanted to hurt something. “So, he’ll be back here soon, eh? Can’t wait.” He watched the clock over Harry’s shoulder before turning to his wife. “Imagine the bollocks that sodding prick must lug around. Can you believe he could ask him to do this?” he spouted, hitching his thumb at Harry.
“It’s an awful idea. This is about as low as a Malfoy can go,” she replied in agreement with her husband. Her head remained in sway. “And what do you get out of risking your life again to do the unnatural, Harry? Maybe your memory’s gone bad.” She prodded a finger against her temple several times. “Try thinking back, you nearly died last time.”
Ron shifted around uncomfortably, staring Harry down from above. “You shouldn’t let him back in here. What do you think he’s going to do if you say no, Harry? He’ll find a way to make you do it. Who knows what he and his father have planned." He tensed up at the idea of Harry being put in harm's way again. He had been through too much already, he wouldn't survive. "It's obvious there's been a breach of confidentiality. He now has means to enter and leave here as he pleases. Who knows how many others he allies with have the address, too. We’ll switch up the wards and you’ll make me the Secret Keeper. He’s not getting back inside.”
Harry hadn’t thought of that. He also hadn’t told the Weasleys about his own selfish reasoning for saying 'yes' to it. “Oh, c'mon. Everyone changes, Ron. I’m not keen on doing this, but you should have seen him. After talking with him for over an hour I didn’t say 'yes', but I couldn’t say 'no'.”
The Auror swelled with anger at Harry's lack of trying to see the bigger picture once he made up his mind on something. “And what about the one you have already? You remember what happened with the first one, right? We all know that Marvolo could just as easily turn into-”
“Ron!” shouted Hermione. She turned to her friend in shock. “He didn’t mean that, Harry. Marvolo is a lovely child. He's nothing like him.”
Harry narrowed his eyes and tugged at his sleeves to keep himself grounded. “It’s all right, ‘mione. He can come out and say it. I know he’s wanted to for a long time.”
“Marvolo’s just like his father, he’s going to turn into what-” Ron turned to the door and snapped his mouth shut.
Severus and Marvolo were standing there in the doorway glaring back at him.
“I was going to suggest lunch, but I see that you’re still discussing matters.” Severus took the small boy’s hand and led him off. Both he and Marvolo glared at Ron again before walking away.
Hermione dropped her head in her hands and sighed. "Great job as always, Ron. Brilliant."
“So, you think I'm thick, Ron? You think I'm a push-over, just going to let him do his thing whether I allow it or not? I’m a bit stronger than that, I won't let that happen.” Harry stood up and walked to the door. “I'm done with this. I think you should go.”
“Don’t do anything stupid. I didn’t mean what I said; it’s just the Auror in me. It's Malfoy that worries me. Your boy is all right, I’m just…” Ron blurted out as Hermione dragged him to the door.
“A complete twat- Yeah, I know. Good bye," Harry finished for him.
“We'll support you in whatever you choose. Good bye, Harry.” Hermione grabbed her husband’s arm and gave Harry a sad smile as they left.
After watching the Weasley’s leave and taking another twenty minutes to compose himself, Draco walked up to the door and knocked. He had decidedly left his daughter at home, hoping Harry wouldn’t be swayed from doing it if he thought his old adversary was using the small child as a crutch.
“Come in. He’s upstairs,” Severus informed him, holding the door open for him with a sneer.
On wobbled legs, Draco ascended the steps. Maybe kidnapping wasn’t such a bad idea. He could just hit him over the head or something when he wasn’t looking, or—
“I’ll do it.”
Draco snapped out of his reverie and looked up. Harry was standing in the hall, leaning on the wall beneath a flickering torch. He wasn’t sure whether he should drop to his knees and kiss the man’s feet or continue standing on the last step with his mouth hanging open. “Are you sure?”
Harry looked off toward his son’s room. “Yep, I'm sure. I’m positive.” He held up a finger before Malfoy opened up his big yap and said something stupid. “But-there will be conditions set in place. You’re not getting off so easy. This is under my terms. I want something out of this, too.”
Draco nearly swallowed his own tongue. “Of course, Potter. We can work all the details out.” He stepped closer and held his hand out, but Harry backed up quickly in retreat.
“Please don’t touch me,” he said, yanking his sleeves down over his hands and hiding them behind his back.
"Seeriously, Potter?" Draco dropped his hand back to his side. “Give me a break, I wasn’t going to hurt you,” he said, suppressing a sneer. “We’re not enemies anymore. I only wanted to-”
“It’s not that, Malfoy.” Harry flushed pink and turned away. "It's more complicated than that. We'll talk about it when the time is right."
“Look,” Draco said, taking another bold step toward him, “if you’re scarred up or something…I don’t care about that. My father’s got loads of scars all over his back from attacks in Azkaban. I’m not here to judge you. Besides, I think you look as young as you did in school.”
“There are no scars.” Harry took another step back, keeping their distance. "Why are you coming closer? Didn't I just ask you not to touch me?"
Draco hardly heard him protest. He knew Harry had him by the bollocks on this deal, but he wasn't going to allow him to dominate this whole situation. If they were going to make a baby together they would have to get closer to one another, both emotionally as well as physically. “I’ve heard loads of wizards from the camps have...you know...issues. We can deal with that if you've gone mental or something. I know a Medi-Wizard who specialises in-”
“No, It’s not that either, you arrogant jackass!” Harry barked back. He turned to face his den and opened the door. “Stop trying to one-up me. You don't understand, and you won't until I explain it to you. We should probably get to work on the details.”
Without even thinking, Draco’s arm acted on its own and snaked out, his hand snatching the other man by the wrist before he got too far away. Only the very tip of his thumb pressed against a bit of exposed skin under one of the crocheted holes in the yarn, but it was enough to cause a reaction.
Harry seized up. “No, Malfoy, you can't...” Before he could go on, he doubled over as a powerful surge of fury flooded into him. Helpless to stop, he snatched out, grabbing Draco by the throat. His strength was unfounded and they were both on the floor in an instant. His buried rage, his underlying hate for Draco and the primal lust for violence within all men burgeoned past all rational thought. Harry took one hand off his rival's throat and brought it crashing into his chin.
Draco gasped for air as he dug his nails into Harry's arms. He sunk his hand into Harry’s hair, yanking his head to his shoulder. The man's eyes had gone cloudy and unfocused. Desperate, Draco groped around the floor in search of something to beat the man back with. He grabbed the leg of the chair beside him and pulled it down, knocking Harry off balance when it hit him on the head. The ex-Slytherin reacted violently, tightening up on that handful of jet-black hair we was holding. He brutally wrenched Harry’s head back and threw his weight forward. He looked into those milky eyes, seeing them vacant. He realised there was something controlling these vicious actions other than Harry's desire to see Malfoy bleed out.
For a moment, Harry froze at the immense pain the blond had delivered to his scalp. He sat stunned, with his eyes searching around for a reason as to why he was laying on the floor.
“Severus!” shouted Draco, taking full advantage of the temporary pause. He pulled his knees up between them and pushed up off the floor, flipping Harry onto his back. “SNAPE!”
Gaining some leverage by straddling him, Draco grabbed Harry’s hands, pinned his wrists together and held them down against his chest. The former Gryffindor snarled and bucked beneath him. He went wild, snapping his teeth at him while hissing a string of vulgarities at him in Parseltongue. At last, the door swung open and hit the wall. Snape ran into the room in a panic.
He dropped to his knees beside them. “You have to stop touching him; he can not help himself if your skin makes contact with his skin. When I tell you to, get up and back away. I’ll handle the rest.” He pulled a pair of gloves out of his pocket and put them on. Carefully, he situated Harry’s shirt over his torso and slipped his hands above Draco's, grasping Harry's wrists. “Okay, get up.”
Draco shoved himself up and fell on his back. Snape pulled Harry up into his embrace and held onto him with all of his might. The fierceness instantly softened, turning into nothing more than heavy panting. “It’s over,” Severus whispered, wiping the damp strands of hair from the young man's face. “Just relax now, breathe. It’s all over.”
Harry slumped in place, sneering. He wiped a line of blood on his chin while he tongued at the gash he'd been given on his bottom lip. “Oh bloody hell,” he groaned, pulling himself free. “I need a minute. Give me a minute.” Without looking back, he left the room.
“What. The. Fuck!?” Draco screamed at Snape. He straightened out his torn shirt as best he could before giving up and crossing his trembling arms over his chest. “Was someone planning on telling me about this small problem anytime soon?”
Severus removed his gloves and held the door open for the man. “That was going to be discussed when the time was right.”
The sound of a slamming door startled them both. Draco’s eyes narrowed at the former potions master. He gripped his wand and yanked it out of his pocket. He shook it angrily. “He punched me in the face! He’s not going to just walk away without explaining himself!”
"We can continue this tomorrow." Severus Snape glanced between the man and his wand. A small smirk curled his lips. He pointed through the doorway. “I think you should go. It's for the best, really. You’ve overstayed your welcome. Bye-bye, Mr Malfoy.”
Draco snorted in disgust. “I’m not leaving -I just got here!” He pushed past Severus, knocking him off-kilter. “Harry Potter, you come back here right this instant! Don’t fucking walk away from me!”
“You can talk to me from out there!” Harry yelled through his bedroom door.
Unnerved, Draco jabbed his wand into the keyhole. “Alohomora!” Throwing his side against the door, he shoved it open will all of his weight.
Harry was standing in the middle of the room with his arms to his sides, completely unarmed. "What part of 'out there' do you not get?"
“Aha! As if I'd listen to anything you had to say. I'd love to see you try that shit again when I'm ready for it. Or maybe it's my turn to deck you. What are you gonna do about it? You don't have a wand,” the blond chided, inching closer to the ex-Gryffindor.
Harry sneered, but took a protective step backwards. “I don’t need a wand, Malfoy.”
Draco stopped cold, but noted the guarded characteristics of Harry’s posture. Shoving his wand into his pocket, he held his hands up in truce and stepped back. “All right, let’s talk.”
“You stay over there,” ordered Harry.
“No problem.”
“I was going to tell you before we got interrupted...by you. This is something I’ve had to endure for nearly ten years,” he said, resting down on the side of his bed. “It was the first of three curses Lord Voldemort put on me. I can’t touch anyone. I’ve never touched my son with my bare hands. I can’t risk killing him.”
Draco cocked his head in confusion. “Why would he curse you to hurt people?”
Harry sighed. “That’s personal.” His light eyes grew dark. As hard as it was to say, he knew it needed to be said. “Oh, to hell with it. I'll tell you this one thing. I suppose you deserve to know it.” He pulled his legs up to his chest to hug them. Although his posture appeared defencive, Harry's expression showed a bravery Draco could never have mustered. “Lord Voldemort was every bit the villain he portrayed himself as. It wasn’t enough to hurt me, or humiliate me, or to force himself on me whenever he felt like it, he enjoyed it all the more when I fought back. He loved a good fight, and he loved to win. And I did give him this, I always fought back...until I just couldn't anymore. After about a year of that nightmare I just wasn’t able to find that fight in me no matter what he did to stir things up. Even torturing Hermione or Ron or whoever, I just lost the will to live.”
Draco backed up unconsciously. “I had no idea…I would have never barged in here. I’m so sorry, Potter.”
Harry stood back up, looking fierce. “No, don’t be sorry and don’t pity me. Fix it.” He crossed his arms, looking deadly serious. “That’s what I want from you. I want to be able to touch people again. I want to hold my son and give him the affection he is dying to have before it’s too late. You fix this.”
Again, Draco backed up another step. He stammered, “Remove a cccurse? I--I can’t promise you I can find an antidote before my time is up! I’ve only got a year. I’m desperate-”
"Shut up, let me finish," Harry spit to cut him off. “I’ll give you what you want first, but I expect results in return. You're going to do whatever it takes: all your money, your father’s influence, every fucking thing that your family has claim to, your entire livelihood will be devoted to this. I want an Unbreakable Vow from you. My curse lifted in exchange for your heir.”
Draco nodded. “Yes, of course…Yes, I’ll do it.”