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Sesheta
04 February 2026 @ 09:56 pm
Title: Malicious Intent – Part 21 [FINAL chapter]
Author: BERJAYAsesheta_66
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 5.2K
Rating: NC-17
Warning: none
Summary: Harry’s world is upended when he’s asked to investigate a break-in and threats levied at Draco Malfoy. He’s never told anyone about their short-lived but intense relationship, and now, five years after it ended, doesn’t seem the time. He’s a professional, so he will investigate, find and arrest the culprit, and get on with his life. What else can he do?
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

To start at the beginning, click here.

Or to read at AO3, click here.

[Malicious Intent – Part 21]

Malicious Intent – Part 21


Ron knocked on his door in the morning, Quibbler in hand. "Got a minute?"

"Sure."

Ron sat down and looked at Harry. "I thought you hated the press. And now you go and do this? Sorry, but what were you thinking, mate?"

Harry leaned back in his chair and looked him in the eye. "I was thinking that I would take control of the narrative. Get it all out there, consequences be damned. Basically telling anyone to give me their best shot."

Ron shook his head, clearly thinking Harry was daft. And maybe he was. But now no one, including Ron and Ginny, had any say over the situation. Nothing to keep secret. Nothing to threaten Draco with.

Ron rubbed the back of his neck, eyes on the ground. "I reckon you've been through worse."

Harry laughed. "A bit, yeah."

"But you know the rest of the media isn't going to be as nice now the story's out."

Harry shrugged. "Don't much care, if I'm being honest."

Ron's eyes widened briefly, but then he nodded. Stared at the paper in silence for a few moments. "All that shit about Lucius? He's one fucked up roll model." Ron picked at some unseen lint on his trousers. "Explains a lot."

Harry didn't bother pointing out that he'd told Ron all of this before. Recently, in fact. Perhaps it only registered when he saw it in print. "That he is. And that's not even the half of it."

"What do you mean?"

"There's stuff I discovered while working on the case. Stuff Draco didn't want to pursue and that didn't make it into the case file."

"Like what?"

"Lucius had placed bugs in Draco's flat. When his son no longer subscribed to his distorted views, he took it upon himself to monitor his grown son, invading the privacy of his home."

Ron's mouth fell open. "Fucking hell, Harry. That's twisted."

"There's more, but it's not for me to tell." Draco wouldn't thank him for telling Ron about the blood and about how Lucius had bragged to his Death Eater pals that he had his family under his control. "Just know that Lucius is damn lucky Draco is not pressing charges. Whether he'll ever speak to the man again is anyone's guess."

Ron looked like he was debating whether or not to say something else to Harry. Eventually, he said, "He dropped by to talk to me the other day."

"Draco did?"

"Yeah. Shortly after we arrested Rowle. He wanted to talk to me in private."

That caught Harry off guard. "Oh, yeah? And how did that go?"

Ron hesitated, then looked around the room. He got up and took a Pensieve from the cabinet and brought it to Harry's desk. "Easier if I show you." Harry watched as he withdrew a silver strand and deposited it into the basin. "Go on, have a look."

Curious what the hell Draco might have wanted to talk to Ron about, Harry nodded and entered the memory.

He watched as Draco approached Ron's desk. "Weasley, might I have a word?"

Ron looked up at Malfoy. "I've got nothing to say to you."

"Well, I have something to say to you. About Harry. Is there somewhere private we can speak? I'll be brief."

Ron hesitated, clearly weighing his dislike for the man against his curiosity. Then he stood up and said, "Fine. We can go into a conference room. I'll give you five minutes."

They went into the room and Ron closed the door. Draco took a seat but Ron remained standing with his arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the door – power position. "Time's ticking, Malfoy."

"First, I didn’t get the chance to properly thank you for helping to save my mother. Me too, I suppose, but mainly my mother. I know you probably would have been happy to see us dead and gone, but ... well, I appreciate it. And I won’t forget it."

"It’s my job, Malfoy. I don’t just let people die if I can help it."

"I know, but ... well. I never expected you, of all people ... and I wouldn’t have been surprised ..."

"Look, I may not like you – no surprise there – and I likely never will. We’ve got a lot of history, but I don’t want you or your mother dead." Draco raised a brow. "Your father, sure, I won’t deny it and I won’t apologise for it. And before you lose a nut, I wouldn’t do anything to make it happen. But I wouldn’t be sorry to see him in the ground."

Draco cringed, but nodded. "You’re not alone in that."

Ron chuckled. "No, I imagine I’m not. Anyway, if that’s all, I’ve got other cases to be getting on with."

"No, it’s not. Like I said, I wanted to talk to you about Harry. Specifically your friendship with him."

Ron’s face reddened. "I have nothing to say to you about Harry."

Draco shrugged. "That’s fine, but I have something to say to you."

"Yeah, well, I don’t have to listen." He pushed himself away from the door and turned around. "We’re done here."

As he reached for the door handle, Draco said, "You know I would have thought your friendship meant more to you."

Ron lowered his now shaking hand. "Don’t you dare," he said, his voice low and menacing as he turned to face Draco. "Don’t you dare presume to know a damn thing about me or my friendship with Harry, you ferrety little git."

Draco raised his nose haughtily and stared down it at Harry’s best friend. "Oh, I know enough, Weasley. Enough to know that Harry’s hurting right now. Hurting more than you know."

"Oh, and you know this how?"

Draco didn't answer, but continued. "You do realise that he had no one – no one – that he could trust until he was eleven years old, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"And that the one person who was most like a father figure for him – he looked out for him, made sure he felt safe, invoked ancient protections – was Dumbledore."

"Yeah, what of it?"

"And, in the end, Dumbledore’s betrayal gutted him, right?"

"Yes, and I told Harry that." He pointed at his chest. "I did that. He was willing to forgive the old coot all his stupid eccentricities because he was saving the world and all that shit. But I told him that he deserved to know the truth. He deserved to have time to weigh his options, figure out what he was going to do. Not get it all dropped on him in the middle of a war – in the middle of a battle, as he watched people dying all around him." Ron was getting worked up now, his ears red and his neck getting there. "He couldn’t make a rational choice. Of course he went to Voldemort to die. Because that was what he was meant to do. What that man who claimed to care about him had set him up to do. Had planned all along."

"But he came back," Draco said.

"Yeah. And Harry figured Dumbledore knew that he would." Ron walked over to the table and sat down. "But how could he have known? He didn’t. It was all a crap shoot and if it hadn’t worked out, Harry would have been a necessary sacrifice."

"And yet, to a lesser extent, you did the same thing to him," Draco said. "Do you not see that?"

Ron banged his hand on the table. "I didn’t risk Harry’s life. I tried to save him from a huge mistake!"

"Me."

"Yeah, you. He deserves better than you."

"I’m aware." Ron’s eyes bugged out. "Don’t look so surprised. I’ve told Harry as much on more than one occasion. But that’s not the point."

"That’s exactly the point!"

"No, it’s not. You took the decision out of his hands. That’s the point. You made a decision for him. Without letting him know what you were doing. All for the ‘greater good’ of keeping him away from me."

"You’re twisting things around."

"Am I? I don’t think so. And Harry doesn’t think so either. You see, he trusted only two people with his past. Gave only two people the knowledge of his vulnerability, his pain." He put his hands down on the table and faced Ron head-on. "The whole world sees this pillar of strength, this man who stood up to Voldemort, to Death Eaters, to everyone in order to save the wizarding world. Against all odds, this kid saved us all and fucking died in order to do it. And he continues to save people, day in and day out, seemingly fearlessly, as an Auror. The public has heard all about how he continues to fight the wrongs, even inside the Ministry itself, to see that another Voldemort can never again gain power. He’s a hero among heroes and the strongest wizard alive today, if all the hype is to be believed."

"Yeah, yeah. And your point?"

"My point is that this man who couldn’t be broken, not even by death itself, trusted you and your wife with the knowledge that many would kill for. He handed you the ability to break him. To cut him to the core. And you, Weasley, obliged, didn’t you?"

"What the fuck are you on about?"

He told just two people, Weasley, you and Granger."

"And, apparently, you too."

"I didn’t know until recently. But again, not the point. He trusted you and then you went and did the same thing." He raised a hand to stop Ron’s argument. "To a much lesser extent, but it was the same thing. You went behind his back, hid from him what you were doing, and manipulated the situation to work out the way you, not Harry, wanted things to go. And you kept all that from him for five years."

"You make it sound worse than it is."

"I make it sound exactly how it is. And how Harry sees it. He sees you as someone he trusted, with his deepest secrets. And then you did the same thing to him as everyone else who should have cared about him, claimed to care about him, or was responsible for him, had done. That’s why he’s so angry. Because more than angry, he’s hurt."

"I—"

"Look, I don’t like you, Weasel. And you hate me. But Harry does like you. You’re his best friend. You’re like a brother to him. He’s hurting right now and I can’t stand to see that. You do whatever you like; I’m sure as hell not going to stop you. But he deserves better than this. You owe him better than this."

"Are the two of you ...?"

"No, Weasel. We are not. He’s been working my case and that’s all."

He looked dubiously at Draco. "That’s all?"

"Well, no. That’s not all." He crossed his arms over his chest. "We’ve talked. Rather a lot, actually, but that’s all. Like I said, he’s been working my case, so we’ve spent time together. I finally told him what happened and we’ve been able to talk. But rest assured, I know he deserves better than me. Just like he deserves better than you."

Ron opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it and just nodded his head.

Draco got up, walked to the door and opened it. He turned back to face Ron. "You know, Harry has this wealth of compassion in him. Just look at what he’s forgiven me for." Ron’s head shot up and the hope in his eyes couldn’t be missed. Draco dropped his voice to a stage whisper. "I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I nearly killed his best friend when we were in school." And he turned around and walked through the door.</i>

Harry couldn’t help but laugh as he exited the Pensieve. When Ron caught his eye, he laughed too. "He’s something, that one," Ron said.

"That he is," Harry agreed.

Ron didn't seem to be in a rush to leave, but also not in a rush to speak. Harry let him process whatever he needed to process, not saying anything more. After some time, Ron said, "I'm sorry, Harry. Really sorry." Harry raised his brows – he really wished he could master the single-brow lift – and waited. "You tried to tell me before, about how Draco didn't really have a choice when it came down to the things he did. I was just so mad, and so upset that you took his side." Harry opened his mouth but Ron held up a hand. "Not excusing myself, just explaining." He looked at the Quibbler on the desk. "I see now that he was between a rock and a hard place. I won't pretend that I'll forget what happened back in school, but I'll do my best to get past it."

"I hope so."

"And I – we – never should have done what we did. We thought it was to protect you, but you're right. Malfoy's right. We shouldn't have gone behind your back. Shouldn't have betrayed your trust. I hope, someday, I can earn it back."

Harry wasn't convinced he meant what he said, but he did sound sincere. "I guess time will tell." Ron nodded. "Like you, I won't forget, but ..." He left the rest unspoken. He didn't know what the future would bring. He only knew that it would take a lot of time, and who knew what else, for him to get past such a betrayal.

"So ... are you and Malfoy?"

Harry sat forward and glared at Ron. "I don't think that's any of your business, now is it?"

Ron shook his head. "No, I suppose it's not."

"And if we were?"

"I ... I wouldn't say or do anything to interfere. I give you my word."

Well that was something.

***

When the forensics team had finished with scanning and cataloguing the items, and with the case not being pursued in court, they asked where they should send Draco's recovered stolen property. Harry said to leave it with him and he would return the items to Draco. He ignored the look he got in return.

Still in possession of the coin, Harry sent a note to Draco, not knowing if he'd get a response. Have your things, recovered from Rowle's place. When can I drop them off?

The reply came a couple of minutes later. I'll be home in half an hour.

See you then.

When he arrived, Harry held up the bag. "With statements received, events recorded, and no court case scheduled anytime soon, the Ministry has no need to hold onto your things anymore."

"So you thought you’d bring them back personally? You didn’t have to do that."

"I know. But I wanted to check in on you. Make sure the wards are still holding."

Draco's eyes swept the flat, as though he could see the wards. "You’re not going to take them down?"

Harry shrugged. "Not unless you want me to. I can remove the notification if you’d rather be alerted yourself instead of having it come to me."

"Probably best. I mean ... you’re off the case now, so there’s no need for you to be on alert."

"I suppose. But I don’t mind."

"Always the hero."

Harry rolled his eyes.

Draco leaned back against his kitchen counter, arms across his chest. "Why did you do it? Go to the papers."

Ah. So he'd read it. Harry couldn't tell what he was thinking. "Are you upset?"

He frowned. "Not for myself – they can't say anything worse than they've said about me or my family already, but you, Harry, you've got everything to lose."

"Did I mention I got promoted?"

His eyes widened. "What?"

"Yeah, Deputy Head Auror. Says so in the article."

"And then you went public about us?"

"Robards had been talking about it for months before I was assigned your case. And I did tell him I was going to the papers before I did. He said it was entirely my decision."

"You're shitting me."

"I am not."

"Well, I'll be damned." He gave Harry a once-over. "They really do like you, don't they?"

Harry laughed, spread his arms, and took a small bow. "What's not to like?"

Draco's eyes glazed over slightly. "But why risk it? Why risk your career, your future, to talk about something that's over? That can never be?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't much like people threatening me. Or lording something over me, with the possibility of exposure looming – if I do this they won't tell, or if I don't do that they will tell. This takes power out of their hands. No one has anything to hold over me. If the media wants to make a big deal out of it, let them. If they expect me to cower as a result, then they don't know me, do they? And if the Ministry wants to fire me, have at it. I'll get work, find something else to do. It's not like I'll have trouble getting another job. Besides, as someone keeps reminding me, I do have money."

Draco stared at him. "So this wasn't some sort of attempt at pushing me to do something?"

"What? No." He considered Draco and tried to imagine what he was thinking. "I didn't get placed in Slytherin. I don't think twenty steps ahead of every decision I make. I was feeling like power had been taken away from me. That my life was being controlled by others, if not directly, then by the implication that if I didn't do what was expected of me, something bad would befall me. And frankly, I'm sick of other people pulling my strings."

Draco nodded. "I can appreciate that."

"I'll remind you that I've been manipulated and controlled my whole life. I'll be damned if I become a willing participant. So whatever."

Draco raised a brow. "So you had no ulterior motive?"

Harry snorted. "Of course I did. If I take away everyone's power over me, then there's no reason for you to fear what might happen to me. But did I expect that to change things? Not really. Hoped? Absolutely. But you're gonna do what you're gonna do. This is me. Either way. I've told you how I feel. That hasn't changed. You do what you feel is best for you and I'll respect that."

"You're serious."

Harry thought about that. Would he really be able to accept Draco's decision? In the end, he didn't want to control Draco's choices any more than he wanted his own controlled, so yes, he would. "I am."

"I don't know what to say."

"That's fair. I'm not pretending I'll wait indefinitely for you, because I'm not a masochist. I'm not willing to be manipulated by Ginny or Ron or the media or the Ministry, and I won't hang around forever waiting for you to make a decision. You made it clear how you felt, what decision you made. If you change your mind, I'm here now. You know how I feel, so the ball is in your court."

They stood there, awkwardly silent, for some time, before Harry lifted the bag once more. "Anyway, here are your things. If you could sign for them, I'll be on my way."

"Harry –"

"Oh, and to be completely above board, your mother paid me a visit." Draco's eyes widened. "I don't want to keep anything from you. She was concerned that you might not be doing so well and she was fishing for information about us. Even said you missed me."

"She what?"

"She was being your mother. She loves you and wants what's best for you. She saw – as you told me yourself – the effect we have on each other. She wondered how we'd left things, and I told her that was a conversation she'd need to have with you. Then she asked how we'd ended up together after such a tumultuous start in school. So I told her. The abridged version, obviously."

"You did?"

Harry nodded. "I also told her that I was thinking about going to the paper, asked her if she thought you'd be upset. She said not if I didn't say anything that could hurt your reputation. I said I'd never do that. When she prodded, again, for more information, I told her that she'd have to talk to you about anything else." Draco gaped at him. "I take it she didn't mention that?"

He shook his head. "No, she did not."

Harry handed him the paper and he signed for his things. "Well, there you have it. She came to me, I told her the truth – not all of it, obviously – and she left."

"I see."

Harry put the signed paper in his pocket. "Okay, I'll see you later ... or not." He took out his wand but before he could Apparate, Draco grabbed his arm.

"Don't."

Harry could feel the heat of Draco's skin through his shirt. "Don't what?"

"Don't leave."

Could he dare hope? "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying stay. Please. I want you to stay."

Harry very much wanted to stay. "Are you sure?"

"As sure as I've ever been about anything in my life."

"Okay then." No sooner had he put his wand back in its sheath than Draco grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him in for a kiss.

It wasn't gentle, like their last kiss. There was nothing soft, hesitant or sweet about it. It was all fire and passion. Draco walked Harry backwards until his back hit the wall and he pressed the entire length of his body against Harry's. His tongue pummelled Harry's mouth, holding nothing back. His hands moved over Harry's body, making short work of divesting him of every piece of clothing he was wearing, and Harry was more than willing to let him take the lead. When his trousers proved resistant, Draco took out his wand and vanished them along with all his own clothing.

"Impressive," Harry said. His cock agreed.

"Fucking hell, Harry, I've wanted to do this for five years."

"Same."

Draco dropped to his knees, looked up at Harry and licked his lips. When Harry nodded, Draco grabbed his cock and angled it towards his mouth. That was hands down the hottest thing Harry had ever seen. Draco darted his tongue out, swirled it around the head, then flicked it over the slit. Harry nearly collapsed, but Draco pressed his arms against Harry's thighs, holding them against the wall and keeping him upright. Then he engulfed Harry's length in his mouth and moaned.

"Oh my god!" Harry cried out. He didn't last long; a dozen strokes and he was spilling down Draco's throat. Apparently a five-year build-up doesn't help with stamina.



Draco grinned around his mouthful and kept licking and sucking until Harry grabbed him by the hair. "Too much. Too much."

Satisfied, Draco wiped his mouth, stood up, and kissed Harry again for all he was worth.

Harry grabbed Draco's legs just under his arse and hauled him up, carrying him into the bedroom and throwing him down on the bed. He climbed up his body, resting his own atop Draco's and kissed him. "Missed you." He nibbled his way from mouth to jaw, then licked a path down to one nipple before drawing it into his mouth and sucking. Draco bucked up. Harry grinned, knowing full well the reaction he would get. He made his way to Draco's other nipple, then slowly licked and kissed a pattern across scars from another lifetime, down to his navel, pressing his tongue inside in a promise of things to come.

When Draco's hips lifted off the bed, Harry held them still and licked a trail along his length, from base to tip, and back down again, then took a moment to breathe in the musky scent. He kissed his way back up, teasing with his teeth ever so gently, eliciting the most tantalising groans from Draco before he took mercy on him and wrapped his lips around the head and sucked.

"Fuck!" Draco said, his back arched and hands clenched into fists at his sides.

Harry chuckled. "All in good time." He drew Draco's full length into his mouth, savouring that salty, bitter flavour he'd been longing for. "Missed this. So much." It was true. His entire body was on fire, desperate to be closer, to be one with this man. "It's been too long."

"Less talking, more –"

Harry shut him up by swallowing around his cock and pressing a finger to his opening. Releasing Draco for a moment and earning an exasperated sigh for his troubles, he mumbled a spell and lube filled his hand. He circled and then inserted first one, then two fingers, slowly. He was so tight that Harry groaned with anticipation. He couldn't wait to feel that pressure, that heat around his own erection, but that would have to wait. For now, he pressed his fingers in, twisted and scissored them, loosening him up, while Draco writhed shamelessly beneath him. Then Draco grabbed his own length and started tugging. Harry swatted his hand away. "Let me." And he wrapped his free hand around Draco's cock and took the head into his mouth once more, tongue and lips stroking Draco's length in time with his fist.

Fingers up his arse and cock pummelling Harry's mouth, Draco bucked and cried out. "Harry!" before emptying himself down Harry's throat. Harry teased a bit more with his fingers before drawing back reluctantly. It had been so long and he wanted this man so badly, but he needed a bit of time to recover.

As they cooled off, Draco's one leg now draped over Harry's and head on Harry's shoulder, he said, "For a shining example of a hero, you really don't play fair."

Harry ran his fingers through Draco's hair, something he hadn't thought he'd ever get to do again. "Never said I'd play fair." He kissed Draco's forehead. "But how do you mean?"

He lifted himself up and straddled Harry. "Oh, come on! First you can't stop yourself from taking my case, coming here when I'm all vulnerable." He rocked his hips forward and Harry's cock woke up once more. "Then you dig around in my stuff and find the dragon." He tweaked one of Harry's nipples and Harry's hips lifted. Draco smirked. "Then you get me drunk and drag a confession out of me."

Harry wanted to argue his points, but Draco shoved two fingers into his mouth and Harry began sucking on them, eliciting a delicious twitch of Draco's cock against his own. Harry wandlessly conjured up some lube and reached around behind Draco.

"And then you kiss me like your fucking life depended on it, knowing what that tongue of yours does to me. And then!" Harry slipped one finger into Draco, just a tease. He pulled his fingers from Harry's mouth and dropped down, hands either side of Harry's head, his face mere inches above Harry's and gazed deeply into Harry's eyes. When he continued, his voice was barely a whisper. "Then you tell me you love me." He pressed back and Harry's finger slid further in. He closed his eyes and leaned back, drawing Harry's finger all the way in. "More."

Harry pressed a second finger in alongside the first, then a third. Draco rode his fingers for a few moments before pulling forward once more and kissing Harry for all he was worth. He bit Harry's lower lip as he drew back. "Need you now."

Harry conjured more lube, slathered his length with it, too desperate to care about the mess he was making, and lined himself up. As he tried to gently breach that tight opening, Draco looked directly at him. "I love you too." And then he sat back and lowered himself, inch by inch, taking in as much of Harry as he could, and Harry stopped thinking altogether.

Draco rode him with abandon and Harry did his best to keep up his manic pace. He watched, in awe, as the man he loved dropped all barriers, threw his head back and lost himself entirely in the moment. Harry grasped him and after a few strokes, Draco erupted, covering both their stomachs, his channel pulsing around Harry's length until he, too, fell over the edge.

With a wave of his hand, Harry cleaned up the mess and Draco curled in next to him. A while later, as their breathing slowed, Draco said, "What are you smirking at?"

Harry put one arm behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. "I was just amused by your rewriting of events there."

He put a cold foot on Harry's leg and snuggled in some more. "I did no such thing."

"Let's see ... First, I was assigned the case, I didn't ask for it. I agreed to take it because I didn't trust anyone else to treat you fairly. Second, I didn't dig around your stuff, I was helping you to clean up and the dragon was there. Third, I didn't get you drunk; I found you that way after you held onto the coin and signalled me. And when I got here, I tried to stop you talking, and left as soon as I could."

"Whatever. But you did use that tongue of yours."

Harry chuckled, then leaned in for a long, lazy kiss. "Mm. That I did."

"See? Not fair. And then, after all this time, you tell me you love me. How the hell am I supposed to deal with that?"

"It's true."

"And then you left me!"

"I did. Because you said it was over."

"Since when do you listen to me?"

Remembering what Draco had said about when he'd left, Harry added, "You let me go."

"I'll never let you go again." Harry brushed Draco's hair off his face and looked into his eyes. "Never."

Harry smiled and wrapped his arms around Draco. "Good."

After spending most of the weekend at Draco's, a large portion of it in bed, Harry said on Sunday night, "I have to go home. I have work in the morning."

Draco released a long-suffering sigh. "Me too. Meet up for dinner?"

"Sure; I'll message you near the end of the day."

"Sounds good."

They shared one last lingering kiss goodnight and it was all Harry could do to pry himself from Draco's grip. "I'll see you tomorrow." The pout on Draco's face would get him through the night. "I just need to grab my jacket from your room. Be right back."

Harry grabbed his jacket, then on a whim raised his hand towards the dresser and a drawer opened. A familiar looking dragon figurine flew into his hand and before leaving, he put it right in the centre of the bed.

He went out to the sitting room and gave Draco a kiss goodbye. "You know, maybe we should take another trip to Wales sometime."

~ FIN ~
 
 
Sesheta
28 January 2026 @ 08:24 pm
Title: Malicious Intent – Part 20
Author: BERJAYAsesheta_66
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 4K
Rating: NC-17
Warning: none
Summary: Harry’s world is upended when he’s asked to investigate a break-in and threats levied at Draco Malfoy. He’s never told anyone about their short-lived but intense relationship, and now, five years after it ended, doesn’t seem the time. He’s a professional, so he will investigate, find and arrest the culprit, and get on with his life. What else can he do?
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

To start at the beginning, click here.

Or to read at AO3, click here.

[Malicious Intent – Part 20]

Malicious Intent – Part 20


Several weeks passed and the media seemed to have moved on. Having nothing to substantiate any of their speculation regarding Harry and Draco (Ginny had not, in fact, spilled anything, though Harry remained wary), they grew frustrated with Harry for not responding to questions, and with nothing to add, the stories dwindled down to nothing. Harry was not sad to see that chapter end, but wouldn't be at all surprised if it resurfaced at a later date.

As far as the case against Rowle went, as Harry had thought they might do, the Ministry opted to leave prosecution on the back burner for the time being. They reasoned, quite rightly, that Rowle would spend the rest of his miserable existence in Azkaban, so why bother with the time, effort and cost of a new trial? Behind the scenes, they were just happy to have the story out of the papers. Official comment on the case was "Death Eater, formerly thought dead, has been recaptured and imprisoned for life". Neither Draco nor Narcissa Malfoy had pressed for the case to be brought forward, so the file went dormant. It could be resurrected at some later date, if need be, as there was no statute of limitations on kidnapping and attempted murder, but for now it would gather dust in a box somewhere.

Harry had not heard from Draco, and though disappointed, he wasn't entirely surprised. He had been rather adamant that Harry deserved better, and there seemed to be nothing Harry could do or say to change his mind. He'd said what he needed to say, had put it all out there, and now he could move on. Or at least move forward with his life without the regret of leaving things unspoken.

As it turned out, Ron and Brody worked well as partners, and Harry opted, with Robard's agreement, to work cases primarily on his own, with rotating backup as needed, which gave other Aurors the opportunity to learn from him and gave him more freedom to act independently. Harry found he liked that setup and thought he might just keep working that way, if he could get Robards to buy in long-term. His role as Senior Auror had been quietly upgraded to Deputy Head Auror, something Robards had been hinting at for months prior to the Malfoy case, so Harry was pleased that he had followed through, despite the media attention and his request to no longer partner with Ron.

At the end of a long week, Harry was paid a surprise visit by none other than Narcissa Malfoy. "Mr Potter, do you have a moment?"

"Of course." Harry motioned her in. "I was just wrapping up for the day." She shut the door behind her and took a seat. "And it's Harry, remember?"

"Of course. Harry."

"What can I do for you? Is it about the Rowle case?"

"No, it's about Draco."

Harry's heart skipped a beat. "Is he okay?" He couldn't quite keep the note of panic out of his voice.

She smiled knowingly. "He is fine. Well, no, that's not true. Physically he is fine. He recovered from his injuries in short order. You arrived before Rowle could inflict any major or permanent injuries." She looked pained as she said it. "Even if it was a horrible experience."

"Yes, it was, but I'm glad to hear he's healed." Harry'd had his share of horrible experiences, so he could relate. "But you said he isn't fine. What's wrong? Is there anything I can do to help?"

She smiled again. "I think you may be the only person who can help. Do tell me, Mr Potter – Harry – how did the two of you leave things?"

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, come now, I'm not blind. I know there was something between you that went far beyond an Auror protecting someone while investigating a case."

"I'm not sure I'm comfortable talking about this, Mrs Malfoy."

"Please dear, call me Narcissa."

Harry nodded. "Very well. Narcissa, I think if there's anything to be said to you, that should come from Draco, not me. He is your son, after all."

"Yes, but he's so stubborn."

Harry laughed. "You don't have to tell me that."

"I don't imagine I do." She smirked. "I just struggle to understand the progression of events. The two of you attended Hogwarts together and, from what I gather, were regularly thorns in each other's sides."

"That sounds accurate."

"Then there was the war, and there was certainly no love lost between you then, and yet ... you testified. Not only for Draco but for me. And unless Draco has been misleading me, he had no idea you would do so, and in fact he'd had no contact with you since the war."

"He didn't mislead you. We hadn't spoken." Harry was growing weary of explaining himself, ad nauseum, about his decision to testify, but he went through the events once more. "I testified because it was the right thing to do. People were out for blood, and they didn't care if it was guilt by association, coercion or duress. You saved my life, and Draco saved my life. And I had a bit of an inside view of what Voldemort was capable of, what he did to his followers as well as his enemies. I know that you both suffered at the hands of Voldemort, particularly Draco. Neither of you deserved the punishment that was certain to be handed down without someone speaking out." He looked past her, seeing that courtroom once more. "I had no control over what they would do, but I couldn't stand by and let either of you get railroaded."

"Despite your past with Draco."

"I think in large part because of my past with Draco. I knew he wasn't evil. Was he a pain in my arse? Absolutely! But I like to think I was a bit of a pain in his too."

She chuckled. "Oh, that you were."

He grinned. "He spent most of his time at school bloviating about my father this and my father that. Then I met his father and, well, let's say I wasn't impressed." Realising he was talking about her husband, he added, "Sorry."

"No need to be. If I were you, I wouldn't be impressed either."

Harry nodded. "Anyway, I figure that Draco looked up to Lucius so much, he couldn't see his faults, even when he was being dragged down into the muck as a result. Did he do stupid things? Sure. But he didn't deserve life in prison for that. So I testified."

She folded her hands together and considered Harry for a few long moments. "So when did you and Draco ..."

He raised his brows. "Again, something for you to talk to him about. But I will say that I got to know him – really know him – when we worked together on the restoration of Hogwarts. I learned very quickly that he wasn't at all the person I thought he'd been, and I believe he felt the same way about me. We became, as unlikely as it would have seemed to either of us back at school, friends. And eventually, for a short time, more."

"And now?"

He chuckled. "As for now, I'm afraid you'll have to talk to Draco."

"He's more withdrawn than usual."

Harry could understand that, after all that had happened. "That's to be expected, after what he went through. What you both went through."

"I suppose."

Harry tried to imagine trying to pick up the pieces after what happened to Draco. "And keep in mind, he didn't just suffer that one night. He had his home and lab infiltrated, his privacy taken away. That's something that may take longer to get over, particularly if he has to live there. He'll be reminded of that every time he steps into either place." He didn't bother mentioning Lucius and what he'd done to his own son.

"Of course." She stared into the distance, her thoughts somewhere far beyond Harry's office for some time before returning her gaze to Harry. "I believe he misses you."

That took Harry by surprise, and he wondered if it was true. "He said that?"

"Not in so many words, no. But a mother can tell." He wasn't so sure about that. The more likely scenario was that she was fishing for information. Rather than oblige, he sat back and let the silence fill the room. Eventually, seemingly out of nowhere she said, "He seems relieved the newspapers have stopped speculating."

Harry wasn't surprised by that, particularly after Ron and Ginny had put such crazy thoughts into his head. Then he had an idea. "Funny you should mention that. I'm not feeling particularly charitable towards the media, and even though they seem to have moved on from this story, I've been considering heading them off at the pass." She looked intrigued. "Before anyone can speculate any more than they already have, I was thinking about publishing the details myself."

"The details?"

"Well, not all the details. But enough of the story to be sure everyone understands why Draco may have done some of the things he did. And how I could see past all that. How we became friends and eventually more."

"You would be willing to tell the public that, share your secrets?"

"The public knows so much about me already, I'm rather used to it. I hate it, but I'd rather the information come from me than be allowed to germinate and morph into something not remotely resembling the truth. I have some experience with that. But no, I would not share secrets, not anything meaningful."

She leaned back in her chair, hands crossed over her lap. "Interesting."

"I'm tired of other people controlling the narrative of my life. My only hesitation is ... I don't want to do anything that would hurt Draco. Do you think he'd be upset if I did?"

She smiled, a genuine smile that softened her features. "Would you say anything that could harm his reputation?"

Without missing a beat, he said, "Never."

"Good. And what about mine?"

He eyed her, unsure if she was asking for herself or Draco. Probably both. "No."

"And his father?"

Harry's muscles tensed and he could feel his jaw harden. "Definitely, though I think he's done a fine job of that himself."

She smiled again, even wider this time. "Then no, I don't think Draco would be hurt by this. But I think you have a pretty good idea of what might hurt my son already, don't you, Harry?"

He couldn't deny it. "I think so."

"Then do as you wish. I will not try to stop you. Think about it very carefully, though, because once it's out there, there's no turning back."

Harry thought of all the things that had been published about him over the years, ever since he was a child, and he found he just didn't give a damn any more. "I'm well aware."

"Then I'll take my leave. It was ... enlightening chatting with you today."

"Have a nice evening, Narcissa."

"And you too, Harry."

***

Acting on impulse – Harry wondered if he'd ever outgrow that tendency – he went to visit Luna that evening. He Floo-called and found her reading a book. "Hey there, Luna. You busy?"

"Hi, Harry. Come on through." She greeted him with a hug and a peck on the cheek. "It's been quite a while since I've seen you. How are things?"

He grinned. "Alright, I suppose. Do you have a few minutes to talk?"

"I do indeed. Let me make us some tea."

"Just regular tea for me, please."

She looked disappointed but after years of trying, didn't push her Gurdyroot infusion on him.

As she went about preparing the tea, she said, "What brings you by?"

Harry went into the cupboard and got a couple of mugs down. "Remember how your father published that story about me back in fifth year?"

"Oh, yes. It was a tremendous hit."

He smiled. Not quite how he remembered it, but it had been liberating to control the narrative for once. "I was wondering if you would be interested in having another go."

Her eyes widened. "Is Rita Skeeter writing another article on you?"

"Not if I can help it." She tilted her head in that inquisitive way of hers. "I was hoping maybe you would write it."

"Hmm." She leaned against the counter. "I suppose I could do that, Harry, but what would I write about? There are already hundreds of books about you."

He cringed. Sadly, that was true. "But none about me and Draco."

"Oh, I see." She grinned. "Does this mean the newspapers were correct?"

"I can't honestly say." She took the one teapot to the table, while Harry brought the other and their mugs. "I didn't bother reading any more than the headlines. But based on those, they did not get it right."

"Why don't you tell me and then we'll see what we can do."

"The short version is that they got the timeline wrong. We hated each other in school."

She laughed and poured herself a cup. "If you say so."

"What does that mean?"

She sat back in her chair and stared into her cup, swirling the Gurdyroot as though looking for an answer there. "Nothing really, just a feeling I got back then. That both of you had an unhealthy obsession with each other. I thought it might be more, or might become more is all."

First Hermione, now Luna? "Whatever." He didn't feel like analysing his teenage self right now. "In school we didn't get along, then the war happened and we were on opposite sides. Then he didn't identify me at the manor when he had to have known it was me."

"Of course he knew. He watched you in school just as much as you watched him."

Harry ignored that and continued. "So he saved my life, because his father and his crazy aunt were about to hand me over to Voldemort. Then his mother told Voldemort that I was dead when she knew I was alive. So she saved my life. Then the trials came and I testified because someone had to. Then fast forward to the repairs at Hogwarts. Draco and I both worked there and I got to know him. Turned out he wasn't the jerk I thought he was in school. We became friends, actual friends. It was nice. Then we got closer. Then it was over. Then this case came up and it was assigned to me. We hadn't spoken for five years before that."

"So there was nothing between you before you testified?"

"No. And nothing happened between us while I was investigating the case."

"And now?"

"And now the case is over and we've gone on with our lives. Our separate lives."

She studied him for a while. Long enough to get uncomfortable. "But you want more."

"What I want doesn't matter. The fact is we have gone back to our respective lives."

Luna asked him for more details about Draco and how he was when they worked together at Hogwarts. Harry answered all of her questions, and by the time he left, Luna had agreed to draft an article and send it to him before she printed it. She wanted to be sure he was okay with everything she included. He agreed, thinking it would give him time to reconsider part or all of it before it went to print.

The article appeared two weeks later.

Draco Malfoy – Devoted Death Eater or Devoted and Misguided Son?

In an exclusive interview with Harry Potter, the Quibbler learns what motivated Harry Potter to testify for Draco and Narcissa Malfoy following the war, and what, if anything, really happened between the now Deputy Head Auror and the former Death Eater.

Imagine, if you will, being raised to believe that you and your loved ones, and your very way of life, were under constant threat. That it was your duty as a wizard to protect not only yourself and your family, but the entire wizarding world. That was what you were called to do. Imagine then going away to school to study magic under, you were told, one of the very men who were aiding and abetting this threat. And also imagine your father – the man you most looked up to in the world – held such power in the halls of the Ministry of Magic, providing counsel to the Minister himself, that you had no reason to question his world view.

That is what it was like for Draco Malfoy growing up. Lucius Malfoy, Draco's father and follower of the dark wizard known as Lord Voldemort, had indoctrinated his son in this very way. The indoctrination continued through his school years, and was even reinforced by none other than Dolores Umbridge from the Ministry, when she had taken over as Headmistress at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry while Voldemort was working to regain power. When his father was later imprisoned, Malfoy senior blamed Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore rather than take responsibility for his own actions.

When Lord Voldemort broke his followers out of Azkaban, he sought to punish Malfoy senior for their troubles, and embarked on a mission to recruit Malfoy junior and force Draco to do what he commanded, or be responsible for the deaths of himself and his parents. When most of the adult wizarding world couldn't stand up to Voldemort, what chance did a sixteen-year-old have? To complicate things further, Voldemort moved into Malfoy Manor, their family home, and Draco was forced to witness torture and murder – including a teacher from his own school – at the hands of Voldemort and his followers. He knew what Voldemort was capable of, so he did what he could to save his family.

But even under such circumstances, Draco found a way to push back. Asked to identify Harry Potter personally (an easy task for someone in the same year, and a known rival of Potter's) he chose not to. That act prevented his father and aunt, Bellatrix Lestrange, from handing Potter over to Voldemort, which would surely have resulted in his death. At great risk, when faced with the decision to hand Harry Potter over to his death, Draco Malfoy chose to do the right thing.

That is why Harry Potter testified at his trial. Neither Narcissa nor Draco Malfoy knew he was going to do so. He testified because it was the right thing to do. He knew Draco didn't deserve the fate that awaited him without Harry's testimony, just like Draco knew Harry didn't deserve the fate that awaited him if he'd identified him.

When asked to sum up his take on the situation at the time, Mr Potter said, "He was a scared kid trying to save his parents' lives and not die in the process. But when he could have done what his father, his aunt and Voldemort wanted, he did not. And I'm alive now because of that brave decision. Likewise, Narcissa Malfoy was asked to confirm that I was dead and, knowing full well I was still alive, she lied to Voldemort himself, also saving my life. How could I live with myself if I'd said nothing and watched Draco and Narcissa Malfoy go to prison for the rest of their lives because of the choices Lucius Malfoy made?"

When asked about the public's concerns that the Malfoys didn't have to pay for what they did, he said, "Unless you experienced first hand what it was like to live with Voldemort and the Death Eaters under the same roof, you can't presume they didn't suffer. Whatever Lucius suffered was his own doing. And whatever light sentence he was given was determined by the Ministry and the Wizengamot. But his family? They suffered greatly all through the war, and in the time leading up to it. They did pay. They just didn't – thankfully – pay with their lives."

Mr Potter notably did not testify on behalf of Lucius Malfoy, though Malfoy senior did receive a drastically reduced sentence after not actively participating at the Battle of Hogwarts, and later testifying against his fellow Death Eaters. He remains under house arrest at this time.

When asked about what happened after the war, Mr Potter said, "I finally got to know who Draco really was. I knew, obviously, he was brave enough to face down immense pressure in order to do the right thing, but it wasn't until we found ourselves at Hogwarts, helping with the rebuilding effort, that we became friends. We'd never even had a proper conversation before that."

When asked how that could be, Mr Potter explained, "House rivalry is bad enough at Hogwarts, particularly between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Then Draco grew up with his father telling him that Voldemort – the man who killed my parents and tried to kill me as a baby – was the good guy, and those of us fighting him were the bad guys. Let's just say we didn't have much of a chance as friends in school. So it was interesting getting to know him without all that weighing on us. We learned that we didn't really know each other at all."

And so, the big question: is there any truth to the rumours that something more than friendship developed between these former rivals? "For a short time, yes," Mr Potter confirmed. "But it was long after the trials, after we'd become friends. And then it was over. Not meant to be, I suppose. And we hadn't spoken again until Draco reported a break-in at his home and a threat on his life. I was assigned to his case."

Did he think it was strange, after their history, to be given the case? According to Mr Potter, no one at the Ministry knew of their past, except what was public. He was also aware that some people at the Ministry might not have been keen on helping someone whom they could only see as a former Death Eater. So after five years apart, he didn't see any reason to say anything.

Since the war, Draco Malfoy has become a well-respected and world-renowned potions master, quite an accomplishment for someone his age, and in particular with his past. There has been no evidence since his trial that he has conducted himself in any way contrary to the law, and is by all measure an upstanding member of society. Perhaps Harry Potter had not been mistaken in his decision to testify on Mr Malfoy's behalf after all.

And in closing, because we know the public will want to know the answer to this question, we asked Mr Potter, now that the case has been solved, and the culprit – Thorfinn Rowle, Death Eater and former associate of Lucius Malfoy – is safely locked away in Azkaban, if he and Draco Malfoy have rekindled their relationship.

"No, we have not."


Seeing that last bit in writing hit Harry harder than he'd expected. He tossed the copy of the Quibbler Luna had sent him onto his desk. Now that the deed was done – and as Narcissa had said, there was no going back – all that remained was to wait for the proverbial shit to hit the fan.

TBC
 
 
 
Sesheta
23 January 2026 @ 09:16 pm
Title: Malicious Intent – Part 19
Author: BERJAYAsesheta_66
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 5K
Rating: Eventual NC-17
Warning: none
Summary: Harry’s world is upended when he’s asked to investigate a break-in and threats levied at Draco Malfoy. He’s never told anyone about their short-lived but intense relationship, and now, five years after it ended, doesn’t seem the time. He’s a professional, so he will investigate, find and arrest the culprit, and get on with his life. What else can he do?
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

To start at the beginning, click here.

Or to read at AO3, click here.

[Malicious Intent – Part 19]

Malicious Intent – Part 19


Ron and Brody exited the house, leading a restrained, struggling and seriously pissed off Rowle towards the assembled team.

Draco pulled himself free of Narcissa's grip and launched himself towards the man. "Draco!" Harry called, following him and calling "Protego," erecting a barrier between the two men. Ron and Brody both tightened their grips on Rowle.

"Let me at him!" Draco screamed. "He was going to torture my mother!"

"He's in custody, Draco," Harry said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "We've got him now, and we're not letting him go. He can't hurt you or anyone else any more."

"But –"

Harry turned him around. "You're safe now. Narcissa is safe." He put a finger beneath Draco's chin and lifted his face to look at Harry. "Rowle is going away for the rest of his life. He'll never set foot outside of Azkaban again."

Draco nodded then stepped back, eyes widening. He looked behind Harry. "People are watching." Harry didn't much care, but when he looked around, he realised a crowd had formed and they were, in fact, watching what was happening.

"Let's go back to Narcissa. Let Ron and the team take care of Rowle."

Narcissa watched them approach, brow raised in an expression that looked hauntingly like Draco's what the fuck was that about stare, making Harry wonder just how that encounter with Draco had looked to those around them. Setting that aside for now – not that he could do anything about it anyway; what was done was done – he said, "You two should head to St Mungo's to get looked at."

Narcissa, still studying them with a keen eye, said, "He didn't do anything to me, except tie me up." She gave Draco a pained look. "It was Draco he tortured."

Harry seethed with rage and, unbidden, the wind began to swirl around them. "Potter." Draco's voice and a gentle hand on Harry's arm calmed him. He took a few calming breaths, and the whirlwind died down.

Ignoring the stunned look on Narcissa's face, he said, "We'll need to talk to you about what happened," Harry told them, "but first, you both need to see a Healer." He looked directly at Narcissa. "Rowle may have cast a spell or administered a potion without you realising. I'd feel much better knowing you are both truly out of the woods now."

She nodded and linked her arm through her son's. "Come, Draco, let's go to St Mungo's."

"I'll go with you," Harry said. When Draco tried to argue, he said, "I'll explain to them what happened, and see if I can get you seen quickly and privately. Then if you could come to the Ministry once you receive the all-clear, I'll be waiting to take your statements."

"Very well, Mr Potter."

"Harry," he said. "Just call me Harry."

"Very well then, Harry." She glanced from him to Draco and back again, looking like she very much wanted to ask them both a few questions. "Thank you."

He dropped them off at the hospital, arranged for them to be seen right away, and went back to the Ministry, Narcissa's words echoing in his head. It was Draco he tortured. He wasn't sure he trusted himself in the room alone with Rowle, but wondered if tag-teaming with Ron, whom he was still pissed with, would make things even worse. At least Ron would do his best to stop Harry from AK-ing the fucker.

Ron and Brody had already processed Rowle and were preparing him for interrogation by the time Harry arrived. When Ron asked if he wanted in on the interview, he looked at Brody's keen face and made a decision. "Take Brody with you. I'll observe from out here."

Ron's shocked look came and went in a heartbeat and he asked Brody, "You up for this?"

Brody looked like a kid on Christmas morning. "Interviewing a Death Eater? Hell, yeah!"

Harry and Ron both chuckled and the two of them left Harry and began strategising before going in. Harry wanted very much to be a part of the interrogation, but he knew this was for the best. First, he was too close to the case. After the brief show of uncontrolled magic at the scene, he wasn't sure he could trust himself to be that close to the man who'd not just spied on, tormented and kidnapped Draco, but had tortured him and had planned to do the same to Narcissa.

Second, Rowle was a convicted Death Eater, Harry reasoned, who would spend the rest of his life in Azkaban, with or without additional charges based on this case. Anything extra would have no impact on the outcome. And this way, Harry would be able to give himself space from Ron, avoid killing the motherfucker outright, whether by accident or design, and give Brody the opportunity of a lifetime. It was win-win-win. Except for Rowle. So it was all good.

Rowle, unlike the boy he'd hired, did not confess, but instead immediately asked for a lawyer, much to Brody and Ron's consternation. Harry assured them both that he was screwed anyway and would never see the outside of Azkaban, no matter what happened with this case.

When Draco and Narcissa arrived, Harry invited them into his office. It turned out that Rowle – a massive figure – had polyjuiced himself into someone around Harry's size, then glamoured his features to look a lot like Harry, enough at least to pass for him from a distance in the dark. That had allowed him to get close enough to Imperius them.

Once he'd had them under his control, he'd Apparated them all to his house and tied them up, telling them that he planned to keep them there for some time. He'd start with Draco, then move on to Narcissa.

Rowle hadn't been satisfied with Crucioing Draco – a return in kind for what Voldemort had made Draco do to him. He'd also resorted to pummelling him with his fists and slashing him with numerous cutting spells before promising more to come. Harry tried not to react as visions of Draco's blood spilling all over the bathroom floor at Hogwarts surfaced in his mind's eye. Draco wouldn't meet his eye as Narcissa described what Rowle had done to him and he suspected he'd relived that frightening day all over again too.

Rowle had taken great pleasure in making Narcissa watch as well, casting a spell that prevented her looking away or closing her eyes. He'd said that he wouldn't kill Draco yet; after all, her turn would come and then it would be Draco that would have to watch. He had something special in mind for her.

And for good measure, he'd be sending a lovely collection of memories to Lucius so he could see what his own actions had cost his family.

Sadistic bastard was an overused description, but fit perfectly in this case.

When Narcissa finished recounting what had happened, Draco said, "I asked him how he got my blood." Draco squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, breathing in deeply, his hands forming fists. "All he said was ask your daddy when you see him in hell."

"Any idea what he meant by that?"

"I assure you," Narcissa said, eyes cold, "we will find out in short order." Harry didn't ask, and Narcissa didn't volunteer, how they might go about doing so. To be fair, he didn't give a shit what they did to Lucius. He deserved anything they could dish out.


***

The next morning, after a restless night full of unsettling memories of blood and fire, Harry received a message from Draco: Spoke to my father. Do you have a few minutes?

Harry replied: I'm at home. Come by whenever.

When Draco arrived, he asked, "Not going in to work today?"

Harry was pleased to see that he looked in much better condition than he had the day before, the scrapes and bruises now completely healed, at least the ones he could see. "Late night. Had a few things to wrap up that I could do from here before heading in." Draco nodded. "How are you feeling? And how's your mother?"

"We'll both be fine."

Harry hoped that was true, but his face looked strained. "Cup of tea? I was about to make some."

Draco ran a hand over his face, something he'd been doing a lot. "Sure. That would be great, thanks."

Once they were seated at the table, tea in front of them, Harry prodded. "So what did Lucius have to say?"

"I–" He clenched his jaw and his face turned red. "I'm so enraged I can barely form the words."

At this point, nothing Lucius Malfoy did would surprise Harry. He sipped his tea. "Take your time."

"It wasn't bad enough he invaded my privacy, but ..."

Harry still wished Draco would press charges, father or no father.

Draco clenched his jaw again and tightened his grip around the mug. "That sad, pathetic, scum of a man that calls himself my father had apparently drawn blood from me as an infant – as a fucking infant – that he kept in case of 'future need', whatever the hell that's supposed to mean."

Okay, Harry had thought that nothing the man could do would surprise him, but this was a whole new level of screwed up.

"Who the fuck does that to a child? I asked him if it was for my protection – you know, in case of identification or for some health reason, anything to explain why he might do something like that – but he said no, it was for his own use!"

"What?" Harry felt a wave of his magic infuse the air and pulled it back. "Wait. He admitted that?"

"Didn't have much of a choice, did he?" Harry raised his brows and Draco mumbled, "Never mind."

"Did you use Veritaserum on him?" When Draco looked panicked, he smirked and added, "Well done."

Draco relaxed and shrugged. "He tried to walk out once he'd figured out what I'd done, but my mother took his wand and cast a binding spell on him."

Harry couldn't hold back a chuckle. "Good on her. Bastard deserved that and more."

"Anyway, he took my blood, like I said, when I was a baby. Apparently he had some of my mother's blood too, which he'd drawn from her at some point early on in their relationship, when she'd been asleep. He kept the phials hidden in the Manor and, at some point when Voldemort and his band of merry Death Eaters had taken up residence with us, he'd let it slip that he had them. He was being his usual pompous self and was bragging that he had control of his family or some such rot like that."

Harry thought he might throw up. "What the hell?"

Draco waved it away like it was nothing, but Harry could see how much that had cut him to the quick. "Whatever. The main takeaway is that Rowle took advantage of that and somehow managed to get his hands on mine. When my father suspected what had happened, after I'd confronted him about the bugs he'd left at my flat, he tested the contents and mine had been replaced with pig's blood. My mother's, thankfully, hadn't been touched."

"And he didn't think to, I don't know, tell you?" Of course he hadn't. "I have no words."

"Still think your dad was a bit of a dick?" he said with a smirk.

Appreciating that Draco needed to add some levity to the situation, he said, "Yes, but Lucius has surpassed even my expectations for dickheadery."

"Definitely up for top prize in that category."

"Draco, I'm so sorry."

"I shouldn't be surprised, but I have to admit, Lucius has really outdone himself with this one." He ran his hand through his hair and Harry barely resisted taking him into his arms. "And the gut-punch is that he did this years ago. And to this day didn't think there was anything wrong with what he'd done."

"How's your mum dealing with this?"

Draco smirked. "Let me put it this way: the Black family is not known for handling betrayal well."

Harry smiled. "Say no more." He hoped that Narcissa would make what was left of Lucius' life a miserable one. "And as an Auror, I will take that to mean that she will simply ensure that the house-elves will not do all that he expects, and he will live out his days in much less luxury than he's become accustomed to."

Draco snorted. "Something like that."

***

Shortly after Draco left, Pigwidgeon tapped at the window. Harry let him in, and he dropped a letter along with a copy of the day's Prophet onto the table. Harry gave him some treats and he settled in to munch them.

Hermione's familiar handwriting greeted him
Harry, I know you stopped taking the Prophet years ago, but I thought you ought to read this morning's front page before you get ambushed with questions.


Harry skimmed the article that took up nearly the entire page.

Wife and son of known high-level Death Eater kidnapped

... Reports identify the kidnapper as Thorfinn Rowle, a former associate of Lucius Malfoy and known Death Eater, previously thought to have perished during the war

... Motive is unclear at this time but many speculate that it was a deal gone bad with former Death Eaters – who some in the know have said were close during the height of Voldemort’s rule – trying to start a new uprising

... The Malfoys have been lying low since receiving what many have said were lenient sentences, equivalent to slaps on the wrists, in exchange for throwing their fellows under the bus

... Malfoy senior has been under house arrest after serving a short stint in Azkaban. Is this latest incident proof that the Wizengamot got it wrong by not putting him away for good? Or, perhaps, that the Ministry had been premature in removing the Dementor’s Kiss from their repertoire of punishment options?

... Malfoy senior’s wife, Narcissa, and son, Draco, received no prison time, thanks to the testimony – and close friendship with the Minister – of Harry Potter.

... Witnesses present at the time of Rowle's capture describe a "rather intimate moment" between the Auror and Malfoy junior – also a former Death Eater – leading many to speculate about what may have really been behind the Chosen One’s testimony all those years ago. [See "Forbidden love affair" on page 3]


Harry tossed the paper aside. Lovely. At least Draco hadn't been here to see it. He wondered how long it would be before the news reached the manor and he had yet another thing to deal with.

***

Shortly after Harry made it in to the office, Ron knocked on his door. "Got a minute?"

Harry nodded. "Sure."

He saw the Prophet on Harry's desk. "I wasn’t the source," Ron said, voice pleading for Harry to believe him. Harry glared but said nothing. "Seriously, Harry, I wouldn’t do that to you. This was just what I’d been afraid would happen and wanted to protect you from."

"I don’t need your protection."

Ron raised a hand to prevent Harry continuing. "I know. And ... well, I’m sorry." He sat down in the guest chair. "Really, I am."

Harry tossed the paper aside in disgust. At least the article hadn't led with that. "I never thought you would," he lied. There was a time that would have been true, but he couldn’t deny – at least not to himself – that he’d wondered to just what lengths Ron would go in order to prove his point.

"Yeah?" Ron looked hopefully at Harry.

Harry ran his hands over his face. "No." Ron’s face fell. "The truth is I wondered. After what you pulled, and after our last conversation – it’s just. Well. You didn’t accept, didn’t even seem to realise, that you’d done anything wrong."

"I know, but —"

Harry held up a hand. "And I did wonder just how far you’d go to prove your point." Ron looked ill. "But I reckon you wouldn’t do this. Not to me anyway."

"I would never —"

"I know." He ran his fingers through his hair, barely restraining the desire to yank out chunks of it. "And I know that a lot of people here would like nothing more than to see all the Malfoys in prison."

"Is that why you were on the case, even with your history?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. But I didn’t tell Robards or Kingsley about ... No one knew."

Ron scowled at the headline. "They still don’t."

"C’mon. It says right here —"

"But no one knows. They’re just speculating."

"Gin —"

"She won’t say a word."

Harry recalled Draco's warning and wasn't so sure about that.

***

When Harry made his way to Robards' office, he was prepared to explain everything.

"Come on in, Potter."

Harry sat down and saw the Prophet on his desk. "About that –"

Robards waved his hand towards the paper. "I will ask you two questions concerning this: the first is, had you been involved with Draco Malfoy at any time before testifying in his or Narcissa Malfoy's cases?"

"No, sir. In fact, we pretty much detested each other right up until then."

"And yet you testified?"

"I did. It was the right thing to do. Lucius Malfoy was the problem, and he managed to rope his wife and son into his mess. Narcissa, to the best of my knowledge, was not an active participant in anything and certainly wasn't a Death Eater, but she stood by her husband. And Draco, while he did obtain the mark, did so under extreme circumstances, and his actions were coerced. As I said at his trial, Voldemort had threatened to kill not only him but his parents if he didn't do as commanded." Robards had read all of this, but Harry felt compelled to drive the facts home.

"But when they needed to, when my life was in very real danger, each of them stood up against Voldemort and Lucius, and helped me in the process. Even if their prime motivation in their decision-making wasn't to help me, I couldn't forgive myself if they got sent away for life without my ever having said anything."

"Very well, then. My second question to you: have you and Draco Malfoy been involved in any inappropriate way, during this investigation?"

"No, sir."

"Then that's good enough for me."

"But –"

"I entrusted you with this case because I thought you were the one most likely to be, if not objective, then at least fair. Was I wrong in doing so?"

"No, sir."

"Then there's nothing more to say on the matter." Harry wanted to tell him that he and Draco had become friends, more than friends, for that brief time, but he sensed that he was being advised to just stay quiet. So he did. "Is that all?"

"No, sir. That wasn't actually what I came in to discuss with you."

"Go on."

"I have a situation – a personal situation – that I need to address with you." Robards looked pointedly at Harry but said nothing. "It involves Weasley."

"Something I should know?"

"Not specifically, no, but I find myself wanting distance from him, something that couldn't happen if we continue to be regular partners. He and Brody work well together, and I think Ron could be a good mentor to him, so I was thinking to pair them up.

"We can and will work together, as we did yesterday, but if it's all the same, I'd prefer to be partnered with someone else going forward. I can adjust the schedules accordingly, but wanted to speak with you first."

"And this isn't something that will impact the department?"

"No, sir. As I said, we'll work together as needed. I'd just rather it not be on a regular basis."

"And have you discussed this with Weasley?"

"I have."

"And does he agree with you?"

"Respectfully, you'd have to ask him that, sir, though I'm sure he'll agree that we can work together when we must."

"Very well. If that's all, have Weasley come see me."

"Thank you, sir."

He stopped by Ron's desk and told him what he'd said to Robards. "I gave him no specifics and assured him we'd continue to work together when needed. He wants to talk to you."

Ron's shoulders slumped, but he nodded and made his way to the corner office.

***

That taken care of, Harry spent the rest of the day finishing up his report on the previous day's events and catching up on some paperwork he'd let pile up. Ron hadn't come by, so he wasn't sure what to make of that. He decided that he'd discussed the matter enough already, so he would call it a day.

He packed up and pulled out the coin. For pehaps the last time. Do you have a few minutes to talk?

I'll be home in half an hour. You can come by then if you want.

See you then.

When Harry arrived, Draco had already made tea and had two mugs and a plate of biscuits sitting on the kitchen table. Harry took his usual seat – strange how after such a short time, he'd already thought of it as his seat – and grabbed one of the biscuits. "So how was your day?"

"I've had better," Draco said. "But it was better than yesterday, so there's that."

"I bet. How's Narcissa?"

"Angry, but otherwise fine. In fact, I sense an energy in her I haven't seen for a long time. This wake-up call about the man she married might actually do her some good."

Harry thought it odd that she wouldn't have known what an arse Lucius was before this, after all that he'd put them through, but he let it go. "I'm glad to hear it. She deserves to get past all of this. I can't imagine it was pleasant for her having all those Death Eaters in her home, only to be reminded of all of that years later with Rowle surfacing."

"She's a tough lady, or so she keeps telling me, so she'll be fine. My father? I'm not so sure."

Harry laughed. "Let her know I've got her back."

"I think she'd be glad to hear it." He stared into his tea for a moment before saying, "Speaking of my mother."

"Yes?"

"She is not only tough but observant." Harry thought he knew what was coming. "She said she sensed more going on between us than either of us was letting on."

"Did she now?"

"Mm hmm. She said you seemed very protective of me. More than just Auror protective." Harry said nothing. What could he say? It was true. "And she noticed how we both seemed to be able to calm each other with a touch or a word."

Harry replayed the events of the previous day as though through Narcissa's eyes and wondered just what she'd made of it. "And what did you say?"

"Nothing. What could I say? I couldn't deny what she saw with her own two eyes, so I said nothing."

"And she let it drop?"

Draco laughed. "For now she did, but I doubt that will last, particularly after the speculation raised in the Prophet."

"Ah, you saw that?"

"I did. As did probably everyone else. You do have a habit of making front-page news."

Harry scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah, sorry about that."

"Not your fault. Well, except for the shared intimate moment or whatever the hell they said. That was your fault. Entirely your fault."

"Shut up. I was worried about you, okay?"

"I know, but this is exactly what the press love to do. You know that more than anyone." He fussed with his mug before asking, "Did Robards see it?"

"He did."

"And what did he say?"

Harry told him about their discussion and how Robards had seemingly steered Harry away from admitting anything.

"Plausible deniability," Draco said. "I don't blame him."

Harry hadn't thought about it that way, but of course he was right. He was probably just buying time to see how things played out. He could understand that.

"So I finished my report and should be filing everything next week. We have everything we need from you and your mother, at least until the trial, if they even have one."

"What do you mean, if?"

"Rowle was already wanted and already has a life sentence. The Ministry may decide not to bother with another trial, particularly if the press is going to paint a picture of a lax Wizengamot that let people like your father off with such a light sentence. The prosecutors might be in touch if they decide to move forward, or to advise you if they decide against it. Either way, he's in Azkaban and that's where he'll stay."

"Oh." He stared at his tea some more. "You know, that might actually be for the best. I don't fancy sitting through another trial, even if I'm not the one being prosecuted."

Harry remembered the helpless feeling from his own trial. "I can understand that."

They sat in awkward silence for a moment before Harry rustled up the nerve to say what he really came her to say. "So, now that this is over and you’re safe ..."

"Hmm?"

"I think you owe me something."

"Sure, name it."

Harry chuckled. "That was pretty quick, entirely unlike you."

Draco wrapped his hands around his mug and hung his head. "You just saved my life. Again."

Harry frowned. "That’s not why I said you owe me. I would never trade your life –"

He rolled his eyes. "I know, I know. Saint Potter would never do such a thing."

Harry let out a frustrated grown. "For fuck’s sake, stop calling me that."

Draco smirked. "But it gets you so riled up, I just can’t help myself."

It was Harry’s turn to roll his eyes. "I meant for what happened, five years ago."

Draco’s smile fell and he suddenly looked uncomfortable. "Nothing has changed. I may not have wanted to walk away, but it’s done. And it turned out to be the right thing to do."

"So you say."

"So I know, Mr Future Head Auror." He huffed out an irritated breath, then sounded weary as he asked, "What is it that I owe you, then?"

"You insist that nothing has changed, that this was the path our lives were meant to take?"

He pursed his lips. "However we got here, yes."

"Okay, then. You owe me closure."

"Closure? Just how do you expect to get that?"

"A proper ending. We’ve talked about what happened. We’ve told each other how we feel, pretty much, as awkward as that was. Now we need to say goodbye."

Draco looked past him into the distance, his eyes a blank slate, giving nothing away. After a few moments, he looked at Harry and nodded. "Okay, Harry. Goodbye."

Harry stood and leaned across the table. "I want one kiss. One last kiss goodbye."

"I – What do you want to do that for?"

"I never got to say goodbye properly. We don’t hate each other. I think it’s a reasonable request. Something for me to remember us by. Something better than what I've lived with for the past five years."

He got a cornered look of terror on his face. "Just a kiss?"

Harry nodded. "Just a kiss," he lied. They both knew there was no such thing between them. Not since the first time their lips had met and this gorgeous, brilliant, infuriating man had wrapped himself around Harry’s heart, never to let go.

"Okay."

Harry smiled and walked around the table, never breaking eye contact. He reached out and pulled Draco up to stand in front of him. Slowly he brought his hands up, slipping his fingers through that silky hair before cradling Draco’s face in his palms. He took a few moments to just look at Draco, committing each contour of his face to memory, before running the pads of his thumbs over the same path his eyes had just taken. Draco leaned into his touch, let out a whimper, and his eyes fluttered shut. Harry’s heart swelled, ached with longing. He’d been denied this for so long, but he refused to let regret take over. Now wasn’t the time to look back. This was his last chance to pour his soul out, to let Draco know exactly what he’d meant to Harry, what he still meant to him.

Slowly, gently, he closed the distance between them, pressing his lips softly to Draco's. He traced an unhurried path with his tongue along Draco's lips, first top, then bottom, before nudging them apart and pressing forward. Draco welcomed him in with a moan, like he had so many times before. Leisurely, Harry mapped every curve and crevice of the other man's mouth, their tongues dancing, as Draco's arms enveloped him and drew their bodies together. Harry's hands traced the muscles of Draco's back, discovering him all over again, longing to be as close as two people could be. Their caresses ignited a slow burn inside of Harry and their bodies responded to each other like they'd never been apart. Harry poured everything into the kiss, cherishing, exploring, committing everything he could to memory – the feel, the taste, the scent, the sounds of this man.

When they reluctantly broke the kiss, they remained in each others arms, neither of them willing to pull away. Harry’s eyes dropped to Draco’s neck and he saw that his heart was beating as fiercely as Harry’s was.

He took a small step back and gently took hold of Draco’s chin to look into his glazed eyes. Before Draco had a chance to say anything, Harry decided he had nothing left to lose. "Full disclosure." Draco’s brows furrowed. "I never told you then. I don’t know if I figured I’d have more time, or if I was too afraid, too naive, too stupid to tell you what I was feeling." Draco’s brows furrowed even more. "Whatever the reason back then, I think I should be honest with you now."

Draco shook his head dazedly. "I don’t understand."

Harry stared into those eyes and knew he had to do it. It had waited far too long. "I loved you, you know. Loved you then." He pressed a soft kiss to Draco’s neck, right where his heartbeat thrummed, then kissed a trail up to his ear. He nibbled the lobe and whispered, "I love you now." Draco inhaled a sharp breath and Harry pulled back, pressed his lips to Draco’s forehead, then pulled back once more to look him straight in the eyes. "I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving you."

Draco’s eyes went wide and scared and hopeful. Harry kissed him once more chastely on the lips, and with great will, he released his hold and took a step back to take one last look at the man he loved. "Goodbye, Draco." And then he turned on the spot and Apparated home.


TBC
 
 
Sesheta
19 January 2026 @ 09:59 pm
*** UPDATE TO AN OLD FIC ***

HELLO THERE! After completing my Christmas fic for 2025, I realised that I hadn't finished this one from a L-O-N-G time ago (oops!). Sorry about that. It has not been abandoned (in fact, I had lots of notes and a fair bit of writing already done; not sure what specifically life did to get me off track back then, but I had forgotten about it).

It is now complete. This is part 18 of 21 (one more than originally mapped out), and all parts are written and edited (I didn't want to start posting until all chapters were done and there was no chance of abandoning it). I'll post one each week. See links below to start from the beginning.

Hope you enjoy!

Title: Malicious Intent – Part 18
Author: BERJAYAsesheta_66
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 4.9K
Rating: Eventual NC-17
Warning: none
Summary: Harry’s world is upended when he’s asked to investigate a break-in and threats levied at Draco Malfoy. He’s never told anyone about their short-lived but intense relationship, and now, five years after it ended, doesn’t seem the time. He’s a professional, so he will investigate, find and arrest the culprit, and get on with his life. What else can he do?
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

To start at the beginning, click here.

Or to read at AO3, click here.

[Malicious Intent – Part 18]

Malicious Intent – Part 18


The lab buzzed with activity, the forensics team capturing all the evidence they could while Draco paced and muttered under his breath.

"You can go home," Harry said. "I’ll be here to make sure everything goes as quickly and efficiently as possible."

Draco glared at him. "Would you leave if it were your lab?"

Harry sighed. "No." Draco nodded and resumed his pacing.

Unable to do anything to calm him, certainly not while the rest of the team stood watching – and watching they were – Harry left Draco to his business and turned his attention to the team lead. "Bradley, how are you coming along?"

Bradley shrugged. "The usual. Not much, really. A whole lot of mess and very little of anything you might call evidence, but we’ll know better when we get back to our lab. There are several magical signatures here. Do you know how many work in the lab?"

Harry shook his head. "No, but I can ask."

"It’d be great if we could have a sample from everyone that works here, for comparison purposes."

Harry nodded. "I’ll be sure to ask for that. Anything else?"

"That’s it for now. I’ll let you know later if there’s anything else we need."

Harry returned to Draco. "They’ve found some magical signatures. Could you get me samples from anyone that works here, so we can eliminate them?"

Draco nodded. "Sure. It’s mainly just me, but two others help out from time to time." His eyes stared into the distance and Harry wondered where he was just now.

"Maybe we can grab dinner. Takeaway and bring it back to mine? Gin’s gone, so we can–"

"Can’t. I’m having dinner with my mother tonight."

"Oh. After then?"

He wrapped his arms around himself and squeezed. "Can I get back to you? I’m not sure I’ll be up for anything more than a hot bath and bed."

"No problem." Harry resisted the urge to rub his hand down Draco’s back, to try to ease the tension there. "Are you going to tell her what happened here?"

Draco swept his eyes over the disaster that was his lab and scowled. "I’m considering it. I don’t want to worry her, but ..."

"But she’s your mother."

He met Harry’s sympathetic gaze with a troubled one of his own. "Yeah."

"Well, if I don’t hear from you after your dinner with Narcissa, we can talk in the morning and get those signatures for the team."

"Sure. That sounds good."

"Potter!" Harry turned to Bradley. "We’re done here. See you back at the Ministry?"

"Sure thing. I’ve got a few things to do before I go there, so I’ll see you in a couple of hours, yeah?"

"We’ll be busy with this for longer than that, so take your time." He turned his attention to Draco. "Mr Malfoy, your lab is once more your own. Do with it as you please."

"Thank you." Draco withdrew his wand and looked at Harry. "I’m good here. You go on and do whatever you have to do."

Harry frowned. "Are you sure you don’t want help cleaning up this mess?"

He gave a half-hearted smile. "I’m sure. The instrumentation is all very delicate – whatever they left here, anyway. I should do the repairs myself, for what it’s worth."

"Alright." Harry pulled out his own wand. "But I’m adding my own wards to yours." He began shoring up the protections on the place. "Like I should have done in the first place."

***

When he got back home, Harry sent an owl ahead to Robards asking for a private meeting. When he arrived for the meeting, he passed Ron's desk but said nothing and went straight in and closed the door. Privacy spell erected, he went about updating him on the case, Rowle's involvement, and explaining what had happened at Draco's lab.

"So I'm hoping to send the samples to a private lab for testing."

Robards nodded. "Probably a good idea. I'll get the name of one as soon as we're done here and pass it along to you."

"Thanks."

"And you say neither of you touched the potions?"

"No. Malfoy had put a stasis charm on everything as soon as he saw the mess, then called me. Only after I asked if anything was missing did he discover the illegal potions. Ones he could have disposed of before calling me and I would have been none the wiser. If they were his, he never would have called me out, knowing I'd bring in forensics." Robards said nothing, so Harry continued. "He's made a name for himself, has done great work since the war. He's been, as far as anyone knows, a model citizen and currently ... well."

Robards leaned his elbows on his desk, steepled his hands and looked at Harry. "I agree." Harry relaxed. For a minute there he thought his boss was going to say something like bring Malfoy in for questioning. "He didn't get where he is by being stupid, and calling an Auror to his place of work with illegal potions present would have been colossally stupid. Let's be sure the lab runs a full analysis of the contents, see if any magical signature, DNA, or anything else was left that could help us identify who did this to him."

"Will do. Thanks."

Harry left Robards' office and as he passed, Ron called out to him. "Harry."

Harry walked past. "Not now."

He heard Ron's footsteps behind him as he approached the lift. He pressed the button then turned to face him. "We're not doing this again, are we?"

"What?" Ron looked at the lift and his eyes widened. "No." He shook his head. "So ... what did you tell Robards?"

Harry took a calming breath and willed himself not to tell Ron to fuck off. "We were discussing a case. Not that it's any of your business."

"If you were talking about me it would be."

"Look, Ron, I don't have time for this. When I talk to Robards concerning you, it will be straight forward." He'd already thought about how to approach it before he'd got the message from Draco about the break-in at his lab. "I will say no more or less than is necessary. I don't fancy airing my personal grievances with anyone. I will simply state that I no longer wish to be partnered with you, due to personal circumstances. I will reassure him, as I did you, that I will still be professional and will always have your back, and that I trust you will have mine. I would just rather not work with you unless necessary."

"Really?"

"Fuck, Ron! Do you even know me?" Harry was losing the very thin thread of patience he had for this man. "I don't want unnecessary attention. I keep my private life private. That goes for whatever happens between us. Furthermore –" The lift chose that moment to arrive. Fortunately it was empty and Harry held the door open after he got in. "I will not air or take out personal grievances at work. Anything I have to say to you I will say directly to your face. But right now I have work to do." He released the door and it closed on a distraught looking Ron.

He was home for less than fifteen minutes when an owl arrived from Robards with the name and address of a lab to use. He gathered up the potions and went straight over. Robards had owled ahead, so they were expecting Harry and assured him that they would have a full analysis done by day's end. Sooner if they could manage it.

That settled, he returned home to wait. He had other work to do, but didn't think he could deal with Ron again just yet, so he made himself some tea and tried not to think of Draco. Using the tea he'd brought to the hotel didn't help.

A couple of hours later, he got a Floo call from the lab that there were no signs of a magical signature, but there was blood in each potion. Human blood, male, and it was the same in all of them. Harry's stomach sank. "You're sure about that? Blood?"

"Yes, and it's strange, because none of these potions requires blood magic to produce. It's completely unnecessary."

Not if you want to frame someone it's not. "Thanks for the quick turnaround on this."

"No problem. It didn't take long, actually. Pretty straight forward drugs you have here. Well, except for the random blood."

"Thanks all the same."

"If you have blood samples for me to compare to, I can run a cursory analysis in short order, and a full comparison by day's end. Just let me know."

"Thanks. Will do." Harry felt sick. If that was Draco's blood – and he was pretty damn sure it would turn out to be his – what did that mean? How could Rowle have got Draco's blood? Had he broken in and drawn some when he did so, while Draco slept? Come to think of it, how could he have got past Draco's wards in the first place? If they were reinforced using blood magic, that might mean that Rowle had his blood beforehand and that was how he got in. And why he couldn't get past Harry's wards. Fucking hell. Had Voldemort taken blood from all his followers?

He took out the coin and sent Draco a message: If you haven't left for dinner yet, I have a couple of questions.

I'm still at the lab. Come on over.

Harry Apparated there and found Draco seated at his desk, hands wrapped around a mug of tea. He looked around. "Looks pretty good," he said.

Draco shrugged. "Some of the equipment is beyond repair – a lot of it, actually – but besides that, it's pretty much back to normal. Tea?"

"No thanks." Harry sat down opposite Draco, wondering just how much more the man could take. "I have a few questions."

"So you said." He took a sip of tea and when Harry didn't say anything, he said, "Well, get on with them."

"Right. It's just ..." Harry ran a hand through his hair, wondering how best to phrase this. He should have thought it through before contacting Draco.

"Just spit it out already. It can't be worse than what's already happened." Harry sighed. "It's not worse, is it? Please tell me it's not worse!"

"It's worse. At least I think it is."

"Well that's helpful."

"Right. Okay." He might as well get it all out there and deal with Draco's reaction – whatever it might be – when it happened. "I talked to Robards and he agreed that someone's obviously trying to set you up."

"Well, that's good news."

Harry nodded. "So I got him to agree to send the potions to an outside lab for analysis, which I did."

"And?"

"And they were basic, illicit drugs, as you said, but no magical signature was left."

"Well, shit." He took another sip of tea. "But it was a long shot anyway, right? I wouldn't say that's the end of the world, not as long as your boss doesn't think I made them."

"That's not all." He braced himself for Draco's reaction. "There was blood residue in the samples. All of them. The same blood in all of them."

"Blood? But I don't understand. Blood isn't needed to make those drugs." Harry waited a beat and then he saw recognition on Draco's face. "You think it's my blood, don't you?"

Harry nodded. "I do. Which begs the question: how the hell could Rowle have got your blood?"

Draco put his head in his hands and ran his fingers through his hair, a sure sign he was trying desperately to hold it together.

"I hate to do this to you, but I need you to think back to the war. Did Voldemort ever take samples of your blood? Samples that someone like Rowle might have been able to get his hands on?"

Draco thought for a while then shook his head. "No. Never. Even when he burned the Mark into me, it didn't bleed. Nothing he ever did, no punishment or ritual or anything I saw, involved blood."

"Another question: are your wards reinforced by blood? Specifically your blood?" Draco stared at him and Harry could tell he didn't want to answer. "Because if they are, and Rowle has some of your blood, that would explain how he was able to break through your wards without you knowing."

"Fuck."

"Exactly."

"Yes, they are." He squeezed his eyes shut and took a few deep breaths. "Fuck."

"I'm going to ask you something you won't like, but we need to be sure."

"If you're going to ask for a sample of my blood, it's fine. Take it."

"I –" Harry didn't like the resignation in his voice. "You don't have to."

"I know. But I trust you. I trust that you aren't going to use it for anything other than to confirm your suspicions. You've already gone above and beyond for me. And I'd like to see this done. Besides, if Rowle has my blood, what the fuck difference does it make if you have it too?"

Harry couldn't argue with him, but it didn't mean he had to like the situation. "I'll take it to the lab and they'll run a full analysis, comparing against what's in the potions. They'll have results by the end of the day." Draco nodded. "Meanwhile, if you can think of any way he could have got your blood ..."

"Well, as I'm not in the habit of donating it to local blood banks, and as I was diligent about protective spells when the Death Eaters were at the Manor, particularly when I went to sleep, I don't have any idea. Your guess is as good as mine." Harry was afraid of that.

Draco drew some of his blood into a phial and Harry took it. "I'll bring it to the lab and stay until the results are in. I won't let this out of my sight."

Draco smiled resignedly. "I don't think it matters anymore, do you?" Harry wanted to hold him, tell him everything would be okay. But he'd be lying and they both knew it. Nothing would be okay until Rowle and anyone he was working with were behind bars. Or dead. "But I appreciate the effort."

"Go and try to have a nice dinner with your mother, take your mind off this."

Draco snorted. "Sure, Potter. Whatever you say."

***

Harry took the sample over to the lab and, as expected, it was a match. Which meant that Rowle had Draco's blood. At least that solved the mystery of how he'd managed to break into Draco's home undetected. How he got the blood in the first place remained unanswered.

Soon after that was confirmed, Harry got an alert that someone had entered the house where the transmissions were being sent. Thinking that Draco deserved an uninterrupted meal with his mother, he didn't bother telling him and immediately Apparated there. Turned out he hadn't needed the tracking spell, because the culprit was still there when Harry arrived.

"Aurors. Stop right there."

The young man – early twenties by the looks of him – turned around and, upon seeing Harry's wand aimed at his face, looked up to Harry's forehead, then immediately dropped the device he was holding and started to cry. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! Auror Potter, please don't kill me."

Sensing immediately that this quivering sod was not the mastermind of the operation, Harry lowered his wand. "I'm not going to kill you. But you are going to take me to your boss."

"But–" Harry lifted his wand again. "Okay, okay. But I don't think he'll be home. He never is, you see. I just go there and drop this off. He has a lock box outside and I put it in there. Then I do it all over again every two weeks."

Sometimes it astounded Harry how much criminals let spill out without him so much as asking. Not the smarter ones. They typically said nothing, lawyered up or needed some serious cajoling. The dumber ones, though? They just stared down a wand and let it all tumble out. A gentle nudge here and there for more details and they were good to go.

Joe – the quivering sod's name – had been correct. Rowle was nowhere to be seen. Harry had instructed Joe to do his job while Harry stayed out of sight under his cloak, far enough back to not be detected but, he was sure to inform the other man, within striking range of a spell should he try anything. He'd confiscated Joe's wand and given him another – spelled to look like a duplicate of Joe's own wand in case anyone was watching – that could only cast unlocking and locking spells, so he could complete his task but do no more. Harry knew he would try to Apparate, so he'd ensured it would zap him with a jolt of magic when he attempted it. Sure enough, Harry heard the yelp just before Joe had bowed his head and sullenly walked away from the lock box.

Harry followed him under his Invisibility Cloak until he was sure they were out of range of any potential detection spells, then took him back to the Ministry. It didn't take long to get a full confession out of Joe, which he helpfully signed before being placed in holding, pending transfer to Azkaban. It turned out that Joe had no idea what he was doing, only that he was paid a sum of money to collect recordings from that house and bring them to another. He knew enough that it was illegal, but no more. He'd met Rowle – though Joe knew him by the name Smith – only the one time face-to-face. After that, he would regularly go to the house once every two weeks. Payment was always made in cash and delivered to random locations for pick-up. He would receive an owl two or three days after he made the delivery, telling him where and when the Galleons could be collected.

Harry returned to the drop box and laid a few detection spells around the perimeter. He'd catch every passer-by, but he couldn't risk getting too close to the house and tripping off one of Rowle's spells in the process. Then he popped in to the Ministry and gave Mac the address to do some digging. With any luck, this wasn't another dead-end and they could catch him.

When he finally settled in for the night, he gave a passing thought to Draco, hoping that he'd had a nice meal and was able to get his mind off things for a few hours.

When he woke up and hadn't heard from Draco, he sent him a message. When he got no response, he Apparated to Draco's home. Not there. To his lab. Not there either. He sent another message. And another. With panic setting in, and no other recourse, he Apparated to Malfoy Manor. When a house-elf answered, Harry asked to speak with Narcissa. The elf looked beside himself and said that "Miss Narcissa is not coming home last night."

"Honestly, elf. To whom are you speaking?" Lucius' voice reached the foyer before the man appeared.

"Potter? What the hell are you doing here?" Then he glared. "What have you done with my wife and son?"

"Are they missing? Both of them?"

"I don't have to answer your questions."

Harry, unwilling and unable to stop himself, whipped out his wand and stuck it in Malfoy senior's face. "I don't have time for your bullshit!" The elf gasped. "I am trying to protect Draco, so if you know where he is, tell me. If he's missing, I need to know details."

He looked down his haughty nose at Harry's wand and through gritted teeth said, "If you must know, they went out for dinner at La Stella D'Oro and never returned. The establishment does not reopen until noon, at which time I was going to inquire about their whereabouts." He sneered. "As I am sure you are aware, Auror Potter I am not permitted to leave my residence."

"But you could have called us when Narcissa didn't return."

Without waiting for a response, Harry Apparated directly to the restaurant and banged on the door until someone answered. "We don't open until –"

"Aurors. I need to speak to the owner." The door opened to reveal a young girl, in her teens, who looked positively frightened at the sight of Harry. He smiled. "Hello there. Sorry to bother you." She relaxed slightly. "It's about some guests who came here for dinner last evening and didn't return home. It's very important."

"Oh! My parents own the place. I can go get them."

"Thank you."

Her father, Jacob, had worked the night before and when Harry asked about Draco and Narcissa, he said that yes, they had been there. They'd had their meal and left around nine-thirty. It was strange, though, that they met up with someone just outside. They don't allow apparition directly into the restaurant, so guests generally walk to the apparition point around the corner, since it's a mixed neighbourhood and they don't want to break the Statute of Secrecy. Harry cringed, hoping no one had seen him Apparate onto the doorstep.

Jacob explained that it was night, so he couldn't give a good description. He began to describe a man of about Harry's height and weight and then stopped. He frowned and looked at Harry more closely. "They left with you, didn't they?"

Harry assured him that no, he had not been there last night. Rowle must have glamoured himself to look enough like Harry for them to have let their guard down for him to get close – he'd have known from the transmissions received from Draco's that Harry was the one assigned to his case. Harry thanked Jacob and Apparated back to the Ministry.

"Mac, anything on the house?"

"It's in a magic neighbourhood, so nothing stands out as extraordinary in that respect. No major waves of magic going to or from the place."

"Anyone home?"

"There appear to be several people in the house at present, best I can tell, but I can't give you anything more than that without getting closer or sending in probes."

"Thanks, Mac. I don't think we'll need that just yet. Just keep an eye on it and let me know if anything out of the ordinary happens."

"Will do. Say, is this the same Death Eater case?"

"It is indeed. And he may be one of those people in the house right now." Harry remembered the coin. "Say, Mac, if I send a message using this coin, would you be able to detect if the receiver on the other end is in that house?"

He held out his hand. "Let me see that." Harry gave it to him and he examined it. "I don't see why not."

Harry took the coin back and sent a message. Need to talk. Let me know when you're available.

"Bingo! Looks like it worked." He pointed at his screen. "See that there? Communication from this building right into that house."

Harry could have kissed him. "You're a peach, Mac."

"Let me know if you get him."

"Will do."

Harry ran out into the Auror office. "Anyone up for catching a Death Eater?"

Ron jumped up, then hesitated. Harry nodded. He could use all the help he could get. They and the other three Aurors in the office all went into Robards' office. "Hey, boss," Harry said. "I've got a line on Rowle. Known location, confirmed by an associate. Draco and Narcissa Malfoy are missing and presumed taken. Witness at the restaurant said someone who looked like me (my bet is on a glamoured Rowle) met them outside and walked with them to the Apparition point around the corner. Lucius Malfoy, and his house-elf, confirm that Narcissa didn't make it home. I just sent a message to Draco and Mac confirms the message was received inside that house. Probable cause, yeah? No need for a warrant, right?"

"Go get the fucker," Robards said.

"Right." Harry turned to the Aurors who were all looking to him for direction. "Our suspect is Thorfinn Rowle. He is suspected of kidnapping Draco and Narcissa Malfoy. The Malfoys are the victims in this case. Do not harm them, am I clear?" Everyone answered in the affirmative.

"We'll need an assist from tactical to determine the layout and where everyone is located before we go in."

"On it," Brody said and he left the room.

Harry gave a brief overview of the neighbourhood and they planned their approach. They'd blanket the place with anti-apparition spells and he and Ron would go in while the rest of the team monitored exits. When Brody returned with the tactical team lead, Harry briefed him and they agreed to meet a block away from the house. Mac would maintain contact with tactical and advise if anything changed.

While they waited for tactical to arrive on site, Harry wondered if he was doing the right thing, having Ron here. He weighed his options and couldn't reach any other conclusion. Ron was a damn good Auror and he and Harry had worked well together for years. He wasn't willing to risk Draco's life, no matter how pissed off he was, by trying out a new partner tonight. He'd deal with all that later. Right now, he just had to trust that Ron would put duty above feelings.

As though reading Harry's thoughts, Ron asked, "Are we okay?"

Harry almost said yes, just to avoid whatever, but instead he opted for honesty. "Not by a longshot, but you're the best Auror here and I trust you to do your job." That was the best he could do.

That seemed good enough for now and Ron nodded. "We've got this."

"While I would very much like to see this guy buried alongside Voldemort for what he's done, I still have some questions for him, so let's try not to kill him in the process."

"If we can manage that, yeah. Death is too quick, too clean for him anyway."

Harry couldn't agree more.

The operation went as smoothly as could be expected. They cast the anti-apparition spells before going in, and tactical was able to identify three people in the house: two on the lower level and one on the main floor. Given the massive size of Rowle compared to the slender Malfoys, it was easily determined that he was the one on his own. They entered the house together, to not give Rowle any warning, Harry going into the basement while Ron took Brody and went after Rowle.

Harry reached them quickly. Both were gagged and tied up: Narcissa to a chair and Draco hanging from the rafters. Harry put a finger to his mouth to be sure she didn't say anything before freeing Narcissa. He then grabbed the unconscious but still breathing Draco around the waist before releasing him and placing him on the ground. A quick wave of Harry's wand determined he wasn't bleeding internally and would be safe to move. Thinking that Draco might cry out if he revived him, Harry decided to carry him out instead. He explained this to Narcissa and they managed to get upstairs and out the same way he'd gone in.

Ignoring the sounds of spells hitting who knew what inside the house, he left the capture of Rowle to Ron and the rest of the team, and focussed on the Malfoys. He cast a cushioning charm on the lawn and put Draco down before erecting a protective perimeter around them so he could examine him without worrying about stray spells.

"Is he going to be alright?" Narcissa asked.

Harry nodded. "I think so." He then waved his wand over Draco to heal the superficial wounds before saying, "Renervate." Draco's eyelids fluttered open, then widened and he grabbed Harry's shirt. "Harry! My mother!"

Before Harry could say anything, Narcissa stepped into view, reached around Harry and squeezed Draco's hand. "I'm right here, darling. It seems Mr Potter has saved the day yet again."

He looked at Harry. "You were right. It was Rowle. He took us last night from the restaurant." He squeezed his eyes shut as though replaying the events in his head. "Disguised. Thought it was you at first. By the time we got close enough to see he wasn't you, he'd Imperioused us to follow. Brought us here, and ..."

Harry put a hand on his shoulder and eased him back down. "We know. Ron's in there now rounding him up. At least I hope so. I'm just glad the two of you are okay." He cast a few diagnostic spells over both of them. "I don't see any major injuries. How are you feeling?"

Draco frowned. "Fine, actually. I was in pain before ..."

"I healed what I could but you should go to Mungo's and be seen by a Healer to be sure."

"After I see him caught."

Harry didn't argue the point.

TBC

 
 
 
Sesheta
Title: Second Chance – Epilogue
Author: BERJAYAsesheta_66 || AO3: sesheta_66
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 5.1K (this part); total 65.3K
Rating: R
Warning: none
Summary: This is the second Christmas for Draco without Astoria and Harry's first since Ginny remarried. Will best friends Scorpius and Albus be just what they need to rekindle something they'd thought fleeting and lost forever?
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: Written for the BERJAYAslythindor100 Early Bird 25 Days of Draco and Harry and the BERJAYAdracoharry100 Christmas Challenge.

On LJ: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Epilogue

OR on AO3

[Epilogue]

Second Chance – Epilogue


It turned out Ronald Weasley did not have a good New Year's Eve. In fact, he didn't have a good January at all.

It started even before that, when Hermione arrived from Harry's place. Perhaps it hadn't been such a good idea for Ron to tell her. First, that Harry had suspended him, and second – probably more importantly – to go ask him what it was about. Turns out, Hermione sided with Harry.

"What the hell were you thinking, Ronald?"

"Huh?"

She put up a privacy spell so young ears wouldn't hear. "I just came from Harry's where we had a cup of tea and a chat." She stood, hands on hips, glaring at him. "Care to venture a guess about what?"

"He was out of line, Hermione."

"He was out of line? In what universe is Harry the one in the wrong here?"

Ron gaped at his wife. Surely she didn't … "It was personal, not business. He had no right to suspend me."

"Honestly!" She stomped to the counter, pulled out a mug, and boiled some water. "He had every right to fire you!"

"What?"

She spun around and stomped over to him, poking her finger in his chest. "You broke. The. Law." She poked him to emphasise each word.

"I didn't!"

"You did. You tried to blackmail Draco into leaving Harry. Blackmail, Ronald. That's against the law."

He threw his hands up in the air. "Says Harry."

"Says the law." She stomped back to the counter and made her tea, left it to steep and stormed back over. "And in case it's escaped your notice, your job is to uphold the law. That means it's worse for you than for any regular citizen. You've breached the public trust as well."

Ron just stood there, staring at Hermione, having trouble processing what she was saying. Sure, Harry had said something similar, but that's just because it was Malfoy.

"Harry has done you a favour, only suspending you. And doing it off the books. No one else need ever know this happened. Which I would ordinarily have a huge problem with – it reeks of favouritism and corruption – but …"

"Hold on a minute! There's no corruption going on here. I was just helping a friend."

She barked out a laugh. "Helping? You think this is helping Harry?"

"Well … yeah."

"Argh!" She went back to the counter, added milk to her tea, then sat at the table, holding her mug with slightly shaking hands. Shit. She must really be mad. "First of all, sit down." She waited for him to sit and took a long breath. "Now, Harry is a grown man. He – and only he – gets to decide what choices he makes. Right or wrong, they're his choices to make, not yours."

"Yeah, but it's Malfoy"

"It doesn't matter. I daresay you would not be impressed if someone tried to pick your partner for you."

"Yeah, well, everybody loves you."

She didn't smile as he'd hoped. "Ronald, you don't get to choose for other people, no matter whom they decide to be with. If it's a mistake, it's your job as their friend to help them get through things if it all comes crashing down. It is not your job to interfere. Be there as a friend if and when Harry needs you, but otherwise stay out of it."

"But it's Malfoy."

"I don't care who it is!" She slammed her hand down on the table, making Ron jump.

"Stupid ferret."

She gulped some tea, nostrils flaring, then put her mug down on the table. "Your opinion doesn't matter, do you hear me? It doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is that Harry is happy. And if it's with Malfoy – yes, Draco Malfoy – then that's the way it is. And by the way, he isn't the boy we went to school with any more. You do realise that? He's an accomplished potions master, a stand-up member of the community, and a guess professor at two schools. And from all I've heard, he is an excellent father and was a good husband. He's not stepped a toe out of line since the war, and in case you've forgotten, he helped Harry even back then.

"Only to save his own arse."

"Oh, really? You think lying to his father and his aunt, dedicated followers of Voldemort, was in his own best interest?"

"Well–"

"The best you can say on that front is that he'd thought Harry was his best chance of escaping the hell his father had created for him and his mother. But that still came with risk. And it meant that even then he had faith in Harry's ability to defeat Voldemort. That's saying a lot based on his upbringing."

"I–" He'd never thought of it that way before.

"And the other way to look at it is that he looked Harry in the face and just couldn't imagine handing him over to Voldemort. For all of their petty and not so petty disagreements in school, he couldn't be the one to cause Harry's death."

"I–" Damn it, why was she making him sound better than Ron knew him to be?

"Personally, I think it was a bit of both. Which would mean that not only did he not want harm to come to Harry, but he looked up to him with hope for the future. And for someone who was raised – or rather, indoctrinated – into thinking that Harry's entire belief system and support network was wrong, and in fact harmful to the wizarding cause, that's saying one hell of a lot."

"Fucking hell, Hermione. He tried to kill me."

She let out a long-suffering sigh. "No he did not, Ronald."

"And what about Katie?"

"We've been through this before. Harry has told you this. Draco only ever tried to harm Dumbledore." Ron tried to comment, but she held up a hand to stop him. "Now, I'm not excusing what he did, but I am trying to give you context. He was sixteen years old, his father – the man he looked up to his entire life – had just been broken out of prison and was in utter disgrace. Voldemort had made no secret of ridiculing and tormenting the man. You saw him at the end, he was a shell of the man he'd been before. And yet Voldemort was living in their home, conducting his business under their roof, torturing and killing people in front of Draco. And then he threatened Draco and his parents with death if Draco couldn't perform an impossible task – which was so obviously a punishment for Lucius. Draco would have had no doubt in his mind that Voldemort would follow through.

"So, imagine yourself in that situation. Your mother, your father, and you under threat of death unless you killed someone. And that someone happens to be the man most responsible for the fact that wizards had to live in hiding, in secret, removed from society. Because that's what Draco had been told, had been taught. If Draco killed the one man who was destroying their way of life, he could save his parents. That, Ronald, is what Draco was trying to do: save his parents. He wasn't a killer, so he grasped desperately for some way to succeed without having to face what he was doing, even though he'd been taught to believe Dumbledore was their enemy. And not just their enemy, but the enemy of wizarding kind.

"You and Katie got caught up in that. There's no denying that you were both hurt in the process, but in no way can that accurately be called a deliberate attempt on either of your lives. Dumbledore knew that and he tried to protect Draco. He even had Snape do the deed for Draco, so he remained free of the guilt of murder."

Ron had heard this all before but had never really listened. Wasn't ready to listen, he supposed. Didn't have a compelling reason to try. After all, who was Malfoy in the grand scheme of things? Just some spoiled brat whose father had tried to humiliate Ron's father every chance he could get. Flaunting his money and status at every opportunity.

Sure, Harry had chosen his friendship with Ron over an alliance with the ferret – that had felt good, seeing the smarmy git's face when Harry had refused his hand. But then Harry had got more and more preoccupied with him in school. And in sixth year? Even when he and Ginny had started going out, Harry had stalked the ferret, had become obsessed with him. Harry had said he was just trying to catch him at whatever he'd been up do, but Ron remembered those days. It was always Malfoy this and Malfoy that. Like there was something brewing there, even then, under the surface.

And now they were what? Together? Like together, together? Ron shuddered. He didn't have a problem with Harry being with another wizard. He'd given it some thought, and it really didn't bother him. Just … why Malfoy?

"But all this is beside the point," Hermione said, bringing his focus back. "The point is that you – as Head Auror – cannot blackmail or even intimidate a member of the public for wanting to date your friend. And you – as Harry's best friend – have no business telling him who he can or cannot date."

Ron nodded. "I hear you."

"Do you, Ronald? Do you really?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"I certainly hope so."

That done, Ron had thought he'd be left to his own thoughts on the matter. But it wasn't to be. Because he had to go to his sister's for New Year's Eve. And Harry had spoken to Ginny. And Ron knew he was going to get an earful.

He'd got more than that.

Gin had taken it upon herself to tell the whole family what Ron had done. Not Percy because, in her words, he'd have arrested Ron himself, thrown him into Azkaban and sold the story to the highest bidder. But everyone else knew.

"Ronald, we need to talk," his mother had said, very calmly, when they first arrived. Never a good sign. He'd much rather deal with a howler than a calm Molly. "But this is not the time or the place – everyone around, you know. Come over for lunch tomorrow and we'll chat over a meal." She smiled at Hermione then looked back at Ron. "Just you, dear." Fuck. No buffer. Not that, after their conversation the day before, Ron thought Hermione would be of much help, but still.

George had pulled him aside shortly after that. "Not cool, man. Not cool at all."

"I know, but the ferret …"

"You know, for someone who moaned about Harry being obsessed with the guy in school, it looks to me like you're the one obsessed now. Just let it go. Move on. It's been over twenty years now."

"I know, but now Harry wants to … wants to … fucking hell, I can't even say it."

George laughed at his discomfort. "For the record, I don't give a shit if you want to tell Malfoy to back off, and, let's be honest, it would be hypocritical for me to tell you not to use your position at the Ministry, but you used Gin and Harry's kids, mate. That's low."

"I wouldn't have–"

"Doesn't matter. You had no business. Malfoy can handle himself. Same with Gin and Harry. But using kids is crossing a line. And the fact that those kids are family is even worse. I don't know where you go from here. And I don't know if their parents will ever forgive you."

Ron thought he might be sick. He'd only tried to help Harry. He wasn't trying to hurt anyone, except maybe Malfoy. He didn't give a shit about Malfoy. But he'd never … Gin and Harry had to know that he'd never …

George hadn't said anything else to him – that had been plenty, thanks very much – but Ron had come across a rather alarming number of trick food items over the course of the evening. So much so that, following twenty minutes in the loo after he'd consumed a particularly strong puking pastille (disguised as a caramel chocolate), he'd stopped eating altogether.

Fleur cornered him later. "But I thought 'arry was your friend? Zat is not ze way to treat a friend. You let zem choose, zen 'elp to get revenge if the person 'urts zem. You do not get in ze way of love." He almost choked on the word 'love' but couldn't help remembering how his mother had not been accepting of Fleur back in the day, and yet now she was family, accepted by all.

Bill had shaken his head disapprovingly. "Wow. The absolute nerve of you. Just wow. Very disappointing. If I weren't firmly convinced that Ginny could handle herself, I'd have more than a few words for you. But remember this: Harry's your brother. He has the right to move on with his life."

That was a punch to the gut. Bill was the cool older brother, the coolest of the lot of them – even cooler than Charlie and his dragons. Ron hated to see that disappointment in his eyes.

It was at the end of the night, as he, Hermione and the kids were getting ready to leave, that Ginny asked him to stay. "I just want to have a chat with my brother," she told them. Hermione, now firmly on everyone else's side, wished her a Happy New Year and left with the kids.

"Let's walk."

They bundled up and went outside. Wanting to head her off at the pass, Ron said, "Gin, I'm sorry."

"Hmm," she said, hands in her pockets, looking up at the night sky. "Are you, though?"

"Of course."

"I'm not so sure." She stopped walking and turned to face him, fierce brown eyes boring into his. "For what, exactly, are you sorry?"

He thought about what everyone else had already said to him. "For using my position, for using you and Harry and the kids – even though I wasn't actually planning on doing what I'd said to Malfoy – for all of it."

"Huh." She turned from him and resumed walking. After a time, she asked, "Did you give a moment's thought about what you did and how it would affect me or the kids?"

"Er …"

"I didn't think so. See, I've had a few days to think about this and yes, I'm angry that you brought up my children in an effort to intimidate someone, but it's more than that."

He knew he might regret asking, but he said, "How so?"

"Let's see. You went behind my back and told someone that I was essentially at your beck and call. That I would use my own children against their father to advance your agenda, whatever the hell that agenda was." Once more she stopped and turned to face him. Tilting her head, she said, "Doesn't paint a very nice picture of me, does it?"

"I–"

"Fast forward and, had I done your bidding – which of course would never fucking happen – or had Malfoy gone public, what do you think would have come out in court? Better yet, in the media? That I helped my brother intimidate a citizen by threatening to keep my own children from their father? Oh, and their father just happens to be the fucking Chosen One who saved the fucking world at seventeen." She laughed. "And also the head of Magical Law Enforcement who has spent his whole life serving the public. Yeah, that would go over well." She turned back around and walked away from him. When he caught up, she said, "How do you think my kids would feel if they read about that in the paper?"

Fuck, fuck, fuck. "I didn't–" He didn't … what? Didn't mean it? Didn't think about it? Of course he hadn't thought about it. That was kind of his thing, acting without thinking. "I wouldn't–" The fact that he wouldn't have actually done anything about it might not have mattered, if Malfoy had gone to someone like Skeeter. "I–"

"Spare me, Ron. You fucked up, royally. Like you've done time and time again. Only this time you dragged me and Harry and our kids into your shit show." Abruptly, she did a one-eighty and headed back towards her house. "You are so fucking lucky that Malfoy is the bigger man here, Ron. Because I can't even imagine what I would do to you if he went to the papers with this. Which, by the way, if he were half as bad as you seem to think he is, he most certainly would have done. Because rest assured, Rita Skeeter and her vile kind don't give a shit what they do to kids; they'll print anything, consequences be damned. Think about that while you're off." She stopped to face him once more. "I thought more of you. Now I can't even look at you." And she hurried off towards home, leaving him standing there in the cold.

The next day was no better. Hermione would not hear of him getting out of a visit with his parents, so off he went to the Burrow to be raked over some more coals.

After ensuring he'd had enough to eat – Molly would always be his mother first – she asked Arthur to give them a few minutes alone and got down to business.

"I was so very upset to hear what happened. You do know that poor Harry never had choices as a child. First, Voldemort took away his parents, then Dumbledore whisked him out of the wizarding world to live with those horrible relatives of his. The way they treated him! Then when he comes back he has the entire wizarding community telling him what to think, where to go, what to do. Dumbledore grooming him to die for the cause – gives me shudders just thinking about it.

"And he just did it. Everything everyone ever asked of him. And now here you are trying to take his choices away as an adult. After all he's done for you and this family, not to mention, well, the world. Fine way to repay that and a piss poor way to treat a friend."

He had nothing to say to that.

When his dad returned, he patted Ron on the shoulder. "Come with me." They went out to the shed where he had a now life-sized Volkswagen Beetle sitting in the place formerly occupied by the Ford Anglia. Something else Harry had done for his family. Fuck

"Bit of a turn you took, eh?" Arthur said.

"Yeah."

"Why do you think you did all this?"

He shrugged. "Thought I was helping Harry."

"Really? By doing what? Making his decisions for him?"

"I don't know. It's just … well, it's Malfoy."

"Ah." His dad began tinkering with the car. "So do you think it maybe has a lot more to do with you than Harry?"

"How do you figure?"

"I must admit, Draco's father and I … well, we didn't set a great example on how to get along."

Ron gaped at his father. "You're joking! Lucius Malfoy took every opportunity to degrade you, belittle you."

"But so long as I didn't let it affect me, he had no power over me."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, Ron, that we can't control what other people say or do, only our own reaction to it. There's a reason forgiveness is said to be sublime."

"I can't forgive Malfoy."

He shrugged. "That's entirely up to you. But forgiveness isn't a gift to the other person, it's for ourselves. It allows us to move on with our lives. To not allow negativity and anger to fester and poison us from within, destroying our own moral compass." He stopped tinkering and looked Ron in the eyes. "It can make us do things that we wouldn't dream of doing otherwise, turning us into someone we barely recognise ourselves."

When he got home, head throbbing, Ron had a letter waiting from Charlie. Well, he thought, might as well get it over with. The letter was succinct and straight to the point.

Ron,

Gin told me what happened. I reckon everyone else will tell you in great detail how you fucked up, which you did. Here's all I have to say on the matter: it's up to you to make things right.

Charlie.


"So what did Charlie have to say?" Hermione asked when she saw him toss the letter into the fire.

"That I need to make things right."

She sat down on the sofa and wrapped her arms around him. "And how do you propose to do that?"

"Dunno." He shrugged. "Maybe I should quit the Ministry, go work with George. He's been asking for years."

"Is that what you want?"

"I'm not sure I have much choice."

She released him and took hold of his hands. "If you do it because you want to, I'll support you. If you do it because you have to, I'll also support you. But if you decide to leave so you don’t have to face Harry, I'll have something to say about that."

He groaned. He couldn't even catch a break when he was trying to do the right thing. "But what if Harry doesn't want to see me?"

"Then that's up to him. But you can't run away from what you've done. Face it, take the consequences, and then figure out where you go from there."

He nodded. "You're right."

She hugged him again. "Of course I am."

***

A week into January, Harry gave Draco an update on the drug case. "The team managed to break the code to his journal. Turns out the kid was bullied relentlessly during his one year at Hogwarts. None of the professors saw anything."

Draco thought about his time at Hogwarts and all the things the professors didn't know were happening. "No surprise there."

Harry snorted. "Too true. Anyway, he'd never really interacted with other kids before, so he didn't know how to handle it. So he just internalised everything and let it fester. Channelled all that energy towards his work and the anger towards future retribution."

"Sounds about right."

"That's pretty callous."

"Not callous, just realistic. Push people often enough and prevent them pushing back, one day they'll explode. Just stands to reason. Like building up pressure inside a bottle."

"I suppose." Harry ran his hands along Draco's shoulders and massaged the muscles. "Turns out you were right about the latest version too."

"Naturally." He grinned, leaned back and accepted the kiss Harry offered. "To be clear, how precisely was I right?"

"He'd used the first batches as a test run. He wasn't out to make money, or at least that wasn't the main purpose. He released them to create demand. The casualties hadn't been his goal. The next version, however, had been intended to kill."

"Shit."

"Indeed. But thanks to the efforts of all involved, including a world-renowned potions master, we managed to get to him before his poison reached the market."

Draco imagined the damage that could have been done with just the quantity they'd confiscated. Who knew how much he'd have produced before releasing it. "Do you have a court date?"

"First appearance next week, but with all we have, we're confident he'll remain in prison until the trial begins. That won't likely happen before February or March at the earliest."

"Let me know when you'll need me to testify."

Harry nodded and started towards the kitchen. "Going to make some tea. Want some?"

Draco laughed. "Shouldn't I be offering you tea? It is my house, after all."

Harry peaked his nose back around the corner. "I'm an Auror. I can do all sorts of things!"

"Mm. Don't I know it?"

A minute later, when Harry was busy in the kitchen, Draco's Floo lit up and one of the last people Draco wanted to see appeared in his fire. "Malfoy, can we talk?"

Draco glared at the head of Ron Weasley. "You shouldn't be here."

"I know, but I wanted to talk."

"No, really, Weasley, you should not be here."

"Look, I know I fucked up. I'll leave my wand on the table and I promise you I won't do anything to–"

"Did I hear a voice?" Harry stopped dead in his tracks as he entered the room and saw Ron's face. "What the fuck, Ron?"

"Harry!"

"I warned you, Weasley."

"You are already on leave, Ron. What do you think you're doing? Are you asking to be fired?"

"No, no, you've got it all wrong!"

"The hell I do." Draco held out an arm to hold back Harry, who was marching towards the fire, wand out.

"I just wanted to – oh, hell, I was going to apologise."

"What?" Draco and Harry said at the same time.

"I fucked up and wanted to tell you so," he said to Draco. "And I was going to talk to you when I went back to work," he told Harry. "Figured you didn't want to see me before then."

"Got that right," Harry said.

"Look, can I come through, say what I have to say, and then leave?"

Harry looked at Draco. "You don't have to let him in here. Ever." He turned to Ron. "You shouldn't be here."

"I know, I know. But I promise you I didn't plan to say or do anything but apologise."

Draco patted Harry on the chest. "It's okay. Maybe make a pot?" Harry looked at him incredulously. "It's only polite."

Harry rolled his eyes, threw his hands up in the air and stormed out of the room. Draco looked at Weasley's head, still hovering, still waiting. "Well, get on with it. No telling how long he'll be able to keep a lid on his temper."

Weasley stepped through and, true to his word, placed his wand on the side table and sat down. "This is gonna be hard, so if you could just let me get it all out at once, it should make things go faster and then I'll get out of your hair." Draco nodded, not sure what to expect. Weasley took a deep breath, stared at the floor for a moment, then faced Draco. "Look, Malfoy, I was out of line. Way out of line. I let what happened years ago affect my judgement. I knew what happened then, but I couldn't let go of our past enough to really understand what happened.

"I was pissed at Harry for standing up for you, really pissed. I couldn't believe he testified for you in court. I guess I thought that he was siding with you against me. He told me what you went through, but I didn't listen, couldn't hear anything that would excuse anything you did." Draco was about to interject when Ron held up a hand. "Not that it should matter to you, but there it is. Anyway, I never really got over that, just shoved it down and never thought about it again. Not really. Then fast forward twenty years and there you are. In my world. I thought I was rid of you, but then there you were.

"I didn't like it, not gonna lie, but Harry made it clear that you were going to be working on the case and I needed to deal with it." He looked down, flexing his hands in what looked like an attempt to maintain his composure. "It was like the court case all over again. Harry was siding with you against me." He held his hand up before Draco even tried to say anything. "I know, I know, it was never about me. I see that now. But I didn’t then. So when the case was over, I thought great, everything would go back to normal. Except you were still there. Fucking everywhere. Then I saw the two of you and I lost it."

"You know it's still not about you."

"Yeah, I know." He shrugged. "But what can I say? Old habits die hard. Anyway, I used my position at the Ministry to get access to you, then used my position as Harry's friend and Ginny's brother to get to you, and cocked everything up in the process." He looked down at the floor, presumably unable to maintain eye contact. "I never intended to go to my sister, to manipulate her into lashing out at Harry. I'd never do that to my niece and nephews. Or Harry or Ginny." He looked up then. "I guess I just saw it as my only leverage against you and I acted on it without thinking."

Draco couldn't resist. "Seems you have a habit of doing that."

Weasley's ears went red but he chuckled. "Don't I know it. Anyway, I do mean it when I say I'm sorry. It won't happen again. It never should have happened in the first place. What you choose to do is up to you, but please, whatever you do, don't take it out on Harry or Ginny. Or, Merlin forbid, their kids."

Draco scowled. "Why would I do something like that? And how could I?"

Weasley shrugged. "I've been informed by more than one person that you could file charges and/or go to the media. But I ask that you don't. Not for me – though I acknowledge I would benefit – but for the kids. Especially for the kids."

"Weasley, you really are an arse. I would never do anything to hurt a child. Certainly not my own or Harry's. I won't pretend that all is forgiven, or that we will ever be friends, but I do acknowledge that my actions as a child affected you and your family. You may recall I reached out to you to apologise for that?"

He nodded. "Like I said, I wasn't ready to listen then."

"I refuse to pay for my actions as a minor for the rest of my life, but I have tried to contribute in a positive way since then." Another nod. Draco returned the gesture. "Right. I do hope we can move on from this."

Weasley smiled. "Okay, then. That's all I can ask. Thanks for listening, and tell Harry I'll see him back at work."

"I will." And he was gone.

"Did you hear all that?" Draco called out.

"Of course I did." Harry entered the room carrying two mugs, not three.

"And?"

"It's a start."
 
 
 
Sesheta
Title: Second Chance – Chapter Twenty-Six
Author: BERJAYAsesheta_66 || AO3: sesheta_66
Prompts used: BERJAYAslythindor100’s Bonus Prompt 2025—London New Year's Eve Fireworks (picture under the cut)
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 4.3K (this part; total 60K + upcoming epilogue)
Rating: R
Warning: none
Summary: This is the second Christmas for Draco without Astoria and Harry's first since Ginny remarried. Will best friends Scorpius and Albus be just what they need to rekindle something they'd thought fleeting and lost forever?
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: Written for the BERJAYAslythindor100 Early Bird 25 Days of Draco and Harry and the BERJAYAdracoharry100 Christmas Challenge.

On LJ: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26

OR on AO3

[Chapter 26]

BERJAYA

Second Chance – Chapter 26



Harry arrived at Draco's after lunch on the 30th to pick up Al.

"They're just playing a game of wizard's chess – Scorpius got a fancy marble set from Blaise and he finally talked Al into playing."

Harry smiled. "Not Al's favourite game, that's for sure. Takes after me, I'm afraid."

"Well then, it should be a fast game."

"Fortunately he's not as bad as me, so maybe not too fast."

"Cup of tea?"

"Sure. I don't think the kids will destroy the place while I'm gone."

Draco led the way into the kitchen. "So, how are you doing?"

Harry sighed. He didn't like confrontation if he could help it. He could handle himself just fine – had to from a young age, and even more so in his job – but he didn't have to enjoy it. "I'm alright. Pissed, but alright. I spoke to Gin first and she's pissed too. She assured me, as I knew she would, that she would never dare deny me my kids. So you can relax about that."

"I'd hoped that was the case, but I just didn't know. I don't really know her." He brought two mugs of tea to the table.

"Thanks." Harry wrapped his hands around the warm mug. "How could you know? Anyway, she told me I should fire his arse."

Draco's eyes widened. "Did you?"

Harry thought about it for a beat. He didn't, but he wasn't yet sure if it would come to that. "Not yet," he said. "Told him to take a couple of weeks off to think about things." Draco snorted and Harry sighed again. "I know, a big ask. But we'll see. He isn't particularly reflective. Tends to be more emotional in his reactions, and he holds a grudge. For a long time. As you've obviously observed. I have no idea if he'll come round or not, but he needs to at least acknowledge and accept that what he did was out of line. Way out of line."

"And you said Ginevra is pissed too?"

Harry chuckled. "Told me to kick his arse and that she'd do the same next time she saw him. Which should be tomorrow night."

"I'd like to see that."

"Her hexes are better than Ron's and she tends not to hold back, so it should be amusing. She's also sneaky – had to be with six brothers – so she might get him when he's not expecting it. Might give him the chance to not have to face his mother's wrath as well, because I suspect she'd tear him a new one if she found out what he did." He pictured the scene. "Or maybe Gin'll just blast him into the next room and tell everyone present what bullshit he pulled." At Draco's horrified look, he added, "Don't worry. She wouldn't do it around the kids. She'd wait until it was adults only in the room, put up a privacy spell, and then let him have it."

Draco tried hard not to smirk but failed. Harry couldn't blame him. "She's tough, your ex."

"She is. Had to be in that house." Harry sipped his tea. Just as he liked it. "She told me you wrote to her, after the trials."

Draco looked surprised. "She did?"

"Mm hmm. Didn't tell me at the time, but did yesterday when we talked. Said she thought you'd been sincere. Also said you and Astoria raised a great kid in Scorpius and that that had to count for something."

Draco put down his mug and stared at Harry. "She did?"

"Yup. Said I could do worse." He grinned. "Said you were hot, too."

Draco laughed. "Now I know you're joking."

"Nope. Not one little bit." Draco's mouth fell open but he said nothing. "Might want to close that." Harry winked and Draco's cheeks went pink.

"I can't seem to process the fact that your ex-wife said that about me."

Harry ran his eyes over Draco, head to toe. "She's not wrong." He leaned in. "And I'd pay money to hear her tell Ron the same thing."

Draco coughed at that. "Fucking hell, that would go over well."

Harry chuckled. "Wouldn't it, though?"

The boys chose that moment to come downstairs. "Oh, hey, Dad. When did you get here?"

"Just a few minutes ago. Scorpius' dad offered me some tea while you finished up your game." Harry got up, took his last sip and put his cup on the kitchen counter. "All set to go?"

He nodded and held up his overnight bag. "All packed."

"Thanks, Draco, for the tea. See you soon."

"See you later, Potter. And goodbye, Albus. I hope you enjoyed yourself."

"Very much, thanks Mr Malfoy."

"You're welcome back any time."

"See you tomorrow, Scorpius."

"See you, Al. Bye, Mr Potter."

Harry said, "Happy New Year, Scorpius," and they left.

After Ginny picked up the kids after dinner, Harry cleaned up the clutter and poured himself a Firewhisky. He didn't have it often, but he damn well needed one after the week he'd just had. No sooner had he picked up the book he'd abandoned when Parkinson had owled him than the fire lit up and Hermione's face appeared.

"Are the children gone?" she asked.

"Yes, why?"

"Good. I'm coming through." And without waiting for a response, she entered the room looking livid.

"Can I get you a cup of tea?"

"No you can't! How could you do that to Ron?"

"Excuse me?"

"During the holidays and everything. What are you thinking? And what could possibly justify what you did? You said you were just going out for a pint, and then Ron comes home ready to explode."

"Sit down," Harry said, not unkindly.

"I don't want to sit down. I want an explanation."

Harry sighed. It seemed he was not destined to ever read that book. "And I'll give you one, but you might as well get comfortable. Besides, I think you might want to be sitting for this."

"For what?"

He got up and went to the kitchen. She followed. He made tea in silence, the only sounds his clinking and Hermione's nails tapping on the breakfast counter. Once he'd made the tea, he slid her mug over to her and took a seat at the counter. "I take it Ron just gave you one side of the equation?"

"He didn't give me any side. Just came home fuming, wouldn't talk about it. Eventually, I wore him down." Harry didn't doubt that. "But all he said was that you suspended him. I laughed, thinking he was joking, but he said it's no joke. And if I wanted to know more, I should ask the boss and his boyfriend."

Harry choked on his tea at that comment. "My what?"

"That's what I asked, but he just stormed off. We've been busy with the kids since then, so I waited until I knew your lot would be off to Ginny's and I came over. So. What happened?"

Harry, not inclined to protect Ron after what he'd done, proceeded to tell Hermione precisely what had happened. When he'd finished, her only comment was, "So Malfoy's your boyfriend?"

"Seriously? That's your takeaway?"

She shrugged and sipped her tea. "Well, you were perfectly within your rights to suspend him. And the fact that you did so off the record is to protect him, no one else, so I can't fault you for that. In fact, I'm not so sure I'd have been so kind. And I'm sure Ginny wouldn't have been either."

He chuckled. "She told me to fire him."

"No surprise there. Anyway, you are completely in the right and Ron was way out of line. So the only thing left is Draco. So you and he are …?"

He smiled at her summary of things, glad that she was not upset with him. "Seeing where things might lead."

"That's all?"

"That's all."

She finished her tea and got up. "Thanks for the tea and the chat." She kissed his cheek. "I'm off now to have a word with my husband."

He followed her to the front room where she stopped and looked at the book on the side table. "How is it?"

"I'll let you know if I can ever get five minutes of uninterrupted time with it."

She smiled and grabbed some Floo powder. "Happy New Year, Harry."

"Happy New Year, Hermione."

That night, Harry was finally able to settle in to read the book. He found it fascinating that the Muggles had been unable to solve some cases that seemed rather obvious to him, but otherwise it was good reading. He made a mental note to look more deeply into a couple of the cases, curious if the reason they hadn't been solved might have been more to do with magic than skill by the culprits.

The next evening, Draco Floo-called to let Harry know that he'd dropped off Scorpius and that he could come over any time. Inexplicably nervous all of a sudden – it would be the first time in two decades that they'd be alone together for more than a stolen minute – he took a few minutes to get ready before heading over. They hadn't discussed formal versus informal, so Harry decided on casual but smart. He put on a pair of black dress trousers that Ginny had always told him made his arse look great – he had no idea if she was right, but he went with it anyway – and a dark teal button-down shirt that he knew complemented his eyes.

Before stepping into the Floo, he cast a repelling charm and hoped for the best. When he stepped out, he was pleased to see that it had worked, and Draco noticed too. He'd stepped up to wipe the ash away, then rested his hands on Harry's chest instead. "Nice."

Harry smiled and took a moment to check out his date for the night. Charcoal trousers, fitted just right to emphasise his long, lean legs and gorgeous arse. Soft blue sweater that softened the grey eyes and accentuated the blond hair and pale skin. The man's pointy features as a teen had softened over the years and he'd filled out nicely since. "Ginny was right. You are hot."

Draco leaned in for a brief kiss, pulled back and smiled. "You're not so bad yourself."

Harry handed over a bottle of wine – one of Hermione's favourites, so he figured he couldn't go wrong – and followed Draco into the kitchen.

"Speaking of your ex-wife, I had an interesting chat with her when I dropped off Scorpius."

"You did?"

"Indeed." He got two wine glasses down from a rack, giving Harry ample opportunity to ogle, then poured a healthy measure into each. He handed Harry his and leaned back. "She said that her brother was out of line and that she would never do anything to hurt your relationship with your children."

Harry smiled. "Glad she confirmed that."

Draco lifted his wine in a toast, and Harry clinked glasses with his and they both took a sip. "Then she told me that her brother had nothing on her and if I ever hurt you, she'd hex off my balls. That's a direct quote."

Harry laughed. "Did she really?"

"She really did. Then she wished me a Happy New Year and sent me on my way."

"I guess there's something to be said for maintaining a good relationship with your ex."

"Indeed."

"Speaking of, you have a good friend in Parkinson."

"I do indeed."

"Took a lot of guts to come see me, in my home no less. Especially since there's no love lost between us."

"She wanted to go see Weasley and hex him."

"I think she might have to get in line." Draco raised his brows in question. "Hermione wasn't pleased when I told her." Draco opened his mouth to say something but Harry stopped him. "She came to give me shit after Ron said I'd suspended him but didn't say why. So I merely clarified the situation. And Gin already said she'd hex him. And if his brothers find out what he did, they might want to have a word or two with him. And then there's Molly." He took another sip and raised his glass. "I don't fancy Ron will be having as nice an evening as I will."

"Oh, really? And how did you plan on that?"

Harry took Draco's wine and put both of their glasses on the counter, then took Draco's hand and let him to the sofa. "Come here and let me show you."

He turned Draco around, pushed him gently onto the cushions, then straddled him. He stood there, staring, hardly able to believe this was finally going to happen.

"Are you going to get on with it, or just stare at me all night?" Draco quipped.

Harry leaned over him, hands on the back of the sofa, eyes boring into Draco's. "You know I've been wanting this for weeks, yeah?"

Draco closed his eyes and let his head fall back. "Mm. Me too."

"Gorgeous." Harry took advantage of his exposed neck and swept his tongue up to Draco's ear and whispered, "I missed this."

Draco lifted his hips in response. "You did?"

"Mm hmm." He nibbled Draco's earlobe. "The taste of you." He took a long inhale, breathing the scent of sandalwood that took him back in time. "The smell of you." He lowered himself so that his hard length pressed against Draco's and the blond's moans echoed Harry's. "The feel of you." They rocked back and forth, a promise of what was to come. "Forgot what I was missing until you walked in that day. Could have thrown you on the desk and–"

Draco grabbed Harry's shoulders and bucked his hips up. "Should have." Harry groaned. "Wouldn't have stopped you."

Harry grinned and rocked his hips forward. "Oh yeah?" He pictured Draco's lean body bent over his desk as he thrust into him, knocking everything onto the floor. That was something he'd really like to experience.

"Mm. Couldn't have if I'd wanted to. One taste of you and I'm done." He grabbed Harry's hair in his fist and pulled him back just enough to stare into his eyes, the grey of his own nearly swallowed by his pupils. "Done."

That was all Harry had to hear before he flipped Draco onto his back and lowered himself until their bodies lined up perfectly. Just like he remembered. "So long I've wanted this without even knowing. Fuck, what you do to me!"

Draco said something but his words were lost in Harry's mouth as he kissed him for all he was worth, rediscovering every part of the other man's mouth. Through the flavour of the wine, he tasted every bit like Draco, and Harry drank his fill.

Harry gently dragged his teeth over Draco's tongue as he pulled back from the kiss, reluctantly releasing his lips before running his hands down the sides of Draco's torso. He ran his fingers gently along and just under the waist of his trousers, eliciting a shudder from the other man, then slowly pulled Draco's sweater up and over his head, revealing the muscled stomach below. Starting from Draco's shoulders, Harry caressed every inch of bare skin, planting kisses along the way, running his tongue over the rippling abs. "Mm, you've filled out nicely since last I was this close." He dipped his tongue into Draco's navel and got a sharp intake of breath for his troubles.

"Potter, if you don't take off your shirt too, I'm going to rip it off!"

Harry liked his shirt, so he opted to remove it himself, all the while watching Draco's chest lift and fall, the skin flushed and glistening with a thin layer of sweat. Fuck if he wasn't the most gorgeous man Harry had ever seen. To be fair, Draco was the only man he'd seen this up close and personal, but that was beside the point. By the time he'd removed his shirt and tossed it aside, Draco was staring, open-mouthed at him.

"Fucking hell, Potter."

"What?"

"First of all, Pansy was right – you do look delicious in uniform. I could have devoured you at the press conference."

"Parkinson said what?"

"Never mind that. Uniform. You. Delicious. But fucking hell that uniform doesn't come close to what you're hiding underneath." He ran his hands over Harry's arms, chest and stomach. Harry's cock twitched in response. "Where the hell did all those muscles come from?"

Harry shrugged, definitely not flexing said muscles in the process. "Auror training. Need to stay fit."

"Mm." He ran his hands all over Harry's muscles again. Fuck, that felt good. "How about you come here and show me just how fit you are?"

Harry grinned and proceeded to do just that.

As they lay entwined on the sofa, a soft blanket draped over them, Harry's stomach growled. Draco laughed and said, "Okay, Mr Auror. Let's feed those muscles of yours."

Harry smacked him playfully and they got up, threw on their clothes, and made their way to the kitchen where Draco had laid out a spread of crackers, cheeses, meats, tea sandwiches and cakes.

"This is delicious," Harry said. "I didn't realise how famished I was."

Draco eyed him slyly. "Well, you did work up an appetite."

Harry grinned back. "Mm. Too true."

Draco leaned over the counter and kissed him. "Eat up. You'll need energy for round two."

Harry nibbled on Draco's lower lip. "Ah, yes, I do remember you were rather insatiable."

Draco popped a pastry into his mouth and winked. "No more than you, if memory serves."

"That may be, but I think I need a little more recovery time these days."

"That's okay. We have all night. Besides, we have twenty years of catching up to do in the meantime."

Harry found he enjoyed hearing about Draco's life. He was glad that he'd found Astoria and they'd been able to build a life together, like he and Ginny had. And while he mourned the lost twenty years, they were wizards, so they still had many more years than that ahead of them. Years that he hoped they'd be spending together.

Before getting to the point where Astoria had fallen ill, Draco shifted gears and reached out for Harry's hand. "Round two, Auror Boy."

Auror Boy? Harry didn't ask. His cock certainly didn't argue, as it came to near full attention at the suggestion. He just laughed and allowed himself to be led into Draco's bedroom. Before he had time to take in the décor – expensive and tasteful he noticed – Draco had pushed him down onto the bed and straddled him. With a wave of his wand, their clothes vanished and in a swift move he descended on Harry and took his full length into his mouth in one go.

So surprised by the abruptness of it, Harry bucked up, nearly choking Draco, and said, "Oi! Give a guy some warning!"

Draco drew back achingly slowly, trailing his tongue and dragging his teeth from base to tip before releasing him and grinning up at Harry. "I did. I said round two. What did you think I was talking about?" And that was the last talking they did for some time.

Sweating and sated, Harry turned on his side, trapping Draco under his leg, and ran a hand over Draco's cooling body, enjoying the feel of his well-defined muscles. It was familiar between them, but different. They were men now, and Harry thought that whatever had brought them together the first time had been just a teaser of things to come.

Harry rolled on top of Draco and pinned him in place, their bodies lining up in all the right places, and looked down into the depths of those grey eyes, nearly losing himself. "I don't want to sound like a sap. Or, Merlin forbid, like a girl." He traced his tongue along the outline of Draco's lips then dove in once more, drinking in the taste, the feel of the man beneath him. "But this feels so … right. Inevitable. The two of us. Together." He brushed a few errand strands of hair out of Draco's eyes and let his fingers trace the line of his jaw. "It's as if everything in our lives – even the twenty years apart – had been leading to this. I can't explain why, but it's like everything just … clicked into place. Like we're two parts of a whole."

Draco stared at him through glazed over eyes, face flushed, heart racing and breathing laboured. Then he reached up and ran his fingers through Harry's hair. "Fucking hell, Potter, you do sound like a sap."

Harry tried to pull back, embarrassed at being so open, so soon. Too soon. He'd fucked it up before it had even begun. He had no experience with this. There had only ever been Draco and Ginny. It's not like he'd had a chance to figure out this dance. He'd fought like hell with Draco, then been drawn to him. They'd come together with few words and a lot of pent-up energy. Passion. Rage. Whatever it had been that had drawn them together, it hadn't needed words. And it had been amazing while it lasted. They'd had their time, and no matter how raw, intense, and fiery it had been, they'd realised that it couldn't work – they couldn't work, at least not back then – and had moved on. Had done what was expected of them. Had made the best of things. And he'd loved Ginny, really he had, and her family had been his family, so it had been easy. They'd just sort of fallen together.

But now … now he couldn't deny his feelings. If tonight was the only night they had together, so be it. He had to be honest, even if just for himself. He didn't want to play games with this man. And it was too late to take back the words anyway.

Draco tightened his grip on Harry's hair and held him in place. "But damn if I don't feel the same way." Harry smiled broadly and kissed him again.

They eventually got out of bed and spent the rest of the night sipping wine and talking about what they'd done over the past year and what they each had planned for the new one. No resolutions, just things they hoped to do. Harry's mind reeled with ideas for what they could do together in the next year, but he thought he'd said enough already. They had the whole year to work those sorts of things out. And, if all went well, a lot more time after that.

Harry realised that he hadn't asked Draco if he wanted to do something more social for New Year's. It wasn't really Harry's thing, unless you counted ringing in the new year with friends and family. And since the divorce, that wasn't in the cards for him. But lots of other people liked to attend big, showy events. It was past eleven but they could still apparate to London in time.

"Want to go to the Thames to watch the fireworks over Parliament?"

"I'm not letting you out of my bed tonight, Potter."

Harry laughed and patted his hand on the sofa cushion. "I hate to break the news to you, but we aren't in your bed."

"You know what I mean." He reached up and tweaked Harry's nipple through his now rumpled shirt. Harry absolutely did not squeak like a mouse. "I'm a spoiled, only child and I don't share well. We lost twenty years together and I'm not about to share you with anyone tonight." He emphasised his point with a deep, probing kiss.

Harry sighed with contentment. "Point taken." Relieved that they were on the same page, he said, "You know, I may not have been spoiled as a child, but I don't much like the idea of sharing you either."

"Good." Draco nodded, looking very serious all of a sudden. "Glad we got that settled."

As the minutes of the old year wound down, Harry reflected on his life and how he'd got here. Something he'd thought fleeting and lost forever had been reawakened in him, and he wondered how he'd let it go in the first place. Recalling what he'd said to Draco earlier, he thought maybe he did know. It hadn't been their time. Who knew where they'd be now if they hadn't walked away when they had. He was as certain now as he had been then that those two teenaged boys would not have survived the world's scrutiny and judgement with an intact relationship.

They'd both had a good life apart from each other. They'd had wonderful children and – until a few years ago for Harry – good marriages. They'd grown as men, become more confident in who they were and what they wanted to do with their lives. And then fate – aided by a nasty drug dealer – had brought them together again. All things happen for a reason, as the story goes.

"What are you thinking about, Potter?"

Harry gave him the side-eye. "That maybe you ought to start calling me Harry."

"Now why would I do that?"

Harry chuckled. "I was thinking about the saying that whatever you're doing when the clock strikes midnight is what you'll be doing for the rest of the year."

"Well then, we'd best get back to bed."

Harry laughed and they did just that. And when midnight struck, they clinked glasses of champagne and wished each other a Happy New Year.

In the end, they did watch the fireworks, but on the telly, from the warmth and comfort of Draco's bed, in each other's arms. Exactly where Harry wanted to be.

Happy New Year indeed.

** Epilogue to come shortly **
 
 
 
Sesheta
So ... this chapter got a little away from me. So there will be one more bonus chapter after this to finish off the story. Enjoy!

Title: Second Chance – Chapter Twenty-Five
Author: BERJAYAsesheta_66 || AO3: sesheta_66
Prompts used: BERJAYAslythindor100’s early bird prompt R—Small Faceless Snow-figure (picture under the cut) and BERJAYAdracoharry100’s prompt 31: Auld Lang Syne
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 5.8K (this part)
Rating: R (eventually, PG-13 this part)
Warning: none
Summary: This is the second Christmas for Draco without Astoria and Harry's first since Ginny remarried. Will best friends Scorpius and Albus be just what they need to rekindle something they'd thought fleeting and lost forever?
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: Written for the BERJAYAslythindor100 Early Bird 25 Days of Draco and Harry and the BERJAYAdracoharry100 Christmas Challenge.

On LJ: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25

OR on AO3

[Chapter 25]

BERJAYA

Second Chance – Chapter 25


For the next hour, Draco replayed everything the weasel had said to him. Any which way he thought about it, the person who'd be most affected by whatever happened was Potter. He would either have to do what the weasel told him to do or he would face problems with his ex, and possibly less time with his kids.

What kind of a friend, never mind a supposed best friend, does that? Threatens to have your children withheld from you if you don't do as he expects? Draco knew full well that the weasel couldn't wield that much power, but he could make things miserable for Potter through deceit and pressure.

The wild card was his sister. Potter had never given any indication that she was an unreasonable sort, but it's not like they'd spent hours talking about her. Who knew what she was like? She'd been one of the leaders of the rebellion against Snape at Hogwarts, to her own misfortune, and that was at sixteen years of age. She'd also been a star athlete, a professional Quidditch player, competing against the world's best. A formidable force, to be sure.

But would she do that to Potter? To her own children? Deprive them of their father?

The law wouldn't allow something that drastic, and Potter was a pillar of the community, but still, it could make things challenging. Draco had heard tell of children barely seeing their father, told horrible things about him, poisoned against him by a bitter ex. He couldn't see that happening to Potter, but again … Weasley would know his sister better than Draco did.

And even if it didn't amount to much, even if Potter and the weaselette went back to status quo – shared custody – what toll would a court case take on Potter and his kids? Surely it would get media attention, and that was never a good thing.

How could the weasel do this?

Draco wavered from anger at having what he wanted so close only to have it ripped away … to helplessness at not knowing what to do … to frustration with the level of power someone could wield over another person … to nausea at the thought of Potter having his children torn away or poisoned against him … to despair at having to let Potter go.

Because in the end, he knew what he had to do. He'd known the minute Weasley had uttered the threat. And Weasley knew it too. Draco would be devastated, but he'd lived through that twenty years ago, even if he'd always known it couldn't last. He'd made his own bed, his own bad decisions, and that's what would have lead people to reject the idea of him and Potter together. On the other hand, Potter had always done the right thing, and still he'd been made to suffer. By Draco's own father, his cohorts and the madman they'd all worshipped. By the Ministry and the media and Draco himself. Not to mention Snape and even the barmy Dumbledore. Potter had walked to his own death at seventeen to save the fucking world. Draco would be damned if he was going to contribute to any more turmoil in the man's life. He'd get over Draco, like he'd done before. And, honestly, it had only been a few weeks that they'd got to know each other again, as adults. Nothing in the grand scheme of life. Potter would move on, find someone else.

Before he had a chance to talk himself out of it, Scorpius came home and they had to get ready for dinner at the Zabinis.

It had been the distraction Draco needed. Scorpius adored Blaise – his cool uncle – and Blaise doted on him in return. And Pansy was always good for some current gossip, so that usually made for an entertaining night. Scorpius spent the first while talking everyone's ears off about all the things he and Al were going to get up to when his friend came to stay, much to everyone's amusement. Then came presents.

Blaise gave Scorpius a marble wizard chess board and after their meal, the two of them went off to play a game, leaving Draco and Pansy to entertain themselves.

Pansy grabbed Draco by the arm and said, "Walk with me."

The two of them bundled up and went outside to wander the property. The temperature had risen and the snow was beginning to melt. As they passed by a neighbour's property, Draco saw the remains of a snowman, now faceless and drooping, and thought that it perfectly reflected how he felt.

"Out with it," Pansy said.

"Out with what?"

"Whatever it is that has you upset." He momentarily considered denying it, but with Pansy there was no point. He couldn't hide something from her unless he made a concerted effort, and today he just didn't have the energy. "Is it Potter?"

The fact that she guessed it on her first try didn't improve his mood. "Not exactly."

"Then tell me exactly what's got you down."

"It's rather a long story."

She squeezed his arm. "I do believe those boys will be playing for a while. We've got loads of time."

He sighed, not sure how much to tell her. "Fine. I'll start with the abridged version. Potter and I kissed. The weasel saw. He lost his shit."

She laughed. "Is that all? Merlin, Draco, you have lost your touch. The fact that a Weasley is pissed about something you did is hardly cause for brooding. You'll get wrinkles!"

"Well, it's a little bit more than that."

She took a deep breath, spread out her arms and exhaled. "It's a gorgeous night, I'm in the company of a gorgeous man, and he is about to spill his secrets to me. I can't think of a better way to spend my time."

"Fuck off."

Her smile fell. "Oh, honey." She once more looped her arm through his and squeezed. "I did tell you to be careful. You've always been vulnerable where Potter is concerned."

"Not helping."

She pouted. "Okay, give me all the details, then let me decide how I can best help."

He gave her the pertinent details, leaving out what had happened after the war. No sense in bringing that up. To her credit, she did not interrupt. She listened, frowned, pondered, and above all held onto him as they walked.

"So let me see if I've got this right. Weasley, the twat, has always had a stick up his arse where you're concerned. He was pissed that you started working on this case, but kept his distance whenever possible. He made a few backhanded remarks, but nothing earth-shattering. End of case, he's still pissed about you being there, but everyone else was good with it. He continues to glare at you every chance he gets, like the juvenile he is, but otherwise the assignment went well and it's now over.

"But you and Potter somehow … what? Get to know each other while surrounded by other people, working a case mainly in the lab where Potter doesn't work, and discussing mind-altering drugs? I'm not sure I see how that happened. Did you walk into his office and both instantly discover that your schoolboy crushes really were crushes?" She stopped walking and turned him to face her. "I think you're leaving out some details."

"Okay, fine. But don't read too much into this."

"Moi?"

He glared at her, but went on anyway. "Potter and I had a brief … thing after the war."

Her jaw dropped. "I knew it!"

He rolled his eyes. "This was after the trials, before I went away. It was intense but short-lived. We knew no one would accept the two of us together, and we decided to go our separate ways and live the lives everyone figured we were meant to."

She lapped it all up, eyes twinkling like the gossip-monger she was. "Star-crossed lovers!"

"For fuck's sake, Pansy, could you be serious? We were two horny teenagers who'd been through a war and decided to get our rocks off. Nothing more."

"And yet here we are."

He started walking again and she hustled to catch up, once again grabbing his arm. "Anyway, fast forward to my working at the Ministry. I don't know. I guess with both of us now single, seeing each other just …"

"Reignited old feelings?"

"I guess so. Feelings I'd convinced myself hadn't ever been there to begin with."

"Well, some of us weren't convinced."

"Again, not helping."

She pulled him to a stop. "I still don't understand. What did Weasley say to Potter? Surely he wouldn't let–"

"It's not what he said to Potter. It's what he said to me."

She waved that away. "Well, whatever it is, I hope you told him to fuck off."

If only. "I didn't really get the chance. He just showed up at my house–"

"Your house? How the hell did he know where you live?"

"Auror, remember?"

"Right. But still. He's got some nerve."

"You don't know the half of it." He started walking again and said, "He threatened to go to his sister, tell her to keep the kids away from Potter if he was with me." When she didn't answer, he looked at her. She was breathing in deeply through her nose, her eyes and mouth clenched shut, her wand hand spasming at her side. "Pansy, did you hear me?"

She stopped walking once more, still breathing deeply. "Give me a minute. I'm trying not to apparate directly into the bastard's house so I can hex him into next week."

"Wow. I didn't think something the weasel said would bother you this much."

"He's using children to get his way? Fucking over his supposed best friend for what? Because his tummy hurts at the thought of you two together? What the fuck is wrong with him?"

"Exactly what I thought."

"You can't let him get away with this. It's too much. I mean I know you've avoided him over the years, just in case, especially after he became Head Auror, but–"

"Pansy, it's okay. This thing between Potter and me? It's nothing. We've hardly spoken two words to each other in over twenty years. The past few weeks … while it might have held some promise, it didn't amount to anything more that kissing. Hardly something to risk a man's relationship with his children on. Weasley's right. Choosing between his kids and me? Of course I haven't a chance."

"But–"

"To be fair, if I were put in a situation where I'd have to choose between Scorpius and anyone else, Scorpius would win, hands down, every time."

She stomped her foot. "Argh! Of course he would. But that's not the point. Weasley's got no right. No right to fuck around with anyone else's life. And what does he care anyway?"

Draco was tired of this conversation. He'd already run everything through his head before coming here. "Look, Pansy, I love you. You know I do. And I know you mean well. And I appreciate you listening. But I can't – just can't – put Potter through anything else. He's done enough – hell, he did enough by the time he was seventeen – to make this a better place. I'm not going to be the cause of any more pain for the man."

"But you wouldn't be the cause."

He smiled sadly at his best friend. "But I could be the reason he never has to go through some prolonged and public custody battle. It's the least I could do for him."

"And what about you? What about your happiness?"

"I've had a good run, Pans, all things considered. Astoria and I loved each other in our own way and we had a great son. And I've got a pretty good life going. Even a couple of decent friends." He nudged her. She looked at him with sad eyes. "Just promise me something, Pansy."

"Anything."

"Promise me you won't go after Weasley. I don't want you to risk anything, tangling with the Head Auror. Not for me, not for anything."

"I can hold my own, you know." He gave her a withering glance. She huffed. "I do think you're worrying for nothing, but okay. I promise. I'll leave Weasley alone."

"Thanks."

"I still think you're making the wrong decision."

He turned them around and walked back towards the house. "I know you do."

Around noon the next day, the Potters arrived, covered in ash. Without thinking, Draco brushed Harry's shirt clean before stepping back and turning to Scorpius. "Why don't you show Albus around the house?" he suggested. The boys took off, leaving them alone.

Before he could say a word, Potter stepped in, took him in his arms and kissed him. A long, sensuous kiss that Draco melted into with no resistance whatsoever. God, he could lose himself in this man's arms. All thoughts of Weasley and his threats evaporated as he let himself be led away from all things not Potter.

He didn't know how long they'd stood there, drinking their fill of each other, promising more to come, when the sound of a herd of cattle broke through the haze of his brain. No, not cattle. Two teenage boys running down the stairs towards them. They reluctantly separated in time to avoid awkward questions. "Father, can we go to the pitch?"

Draco smiled. "Certainly, but make sure you bundle up."

"You have your own Quidditch pitch?" Potter asked.

"What other kind would I have?"

Potter grinned. "When the snow's gone, I'd like to see that for myself." Draco's heart ached. He doubted Potter would be around by the time the snow melted. "But for now, I have to get back. The rest of my brood are baking cookies." He leaned in and gave Draco a parting, chaste kiss. "See you in a couple of days. Call if Al gets to be too much."

"Yeah, yeah, Potter. I'll be fine. Go enjoy your cookies."

After he'd gone, Draco touched his fingers to his still-tingling lips, the taste of Potter taunting him, wondering how the hell he was ever going to be able to walk away from him. Again.

***

Cookies baked and clean-up complete, Harry sat down to a cup of tea and a book on true crime mysteries he'd got from Hermione when a tap came at his window. He opened it to let an unfamiliar owl enter. He cast a few spells – couldn't be too careful – and deemed the letter safe to open. He offered the owl a treat, but he stood his ground, apparently waiting for a reply. Harry opened the letter.

Potter,

I need to speak with you right away concerning Draco. He's fine, but it's important that we speak. I would have Floo-called, but yours is not publicly accessible (obviously). I won't take up much of your time, but I believe you'll find that I am not overstating the importance of the matter.

I'll await your return owl. I can come to your residence or you can come to mine, or if you'd prefer, we can meet somewhere else.

Sincerely,
Pansy Parkinson-Zabini


Intrigued, he looked at the owl. "So what does she want, eh?" The owl just stared back, giving nothing away. "Well, no point theorising." He picked up a quill and scribbled a response on the same page.

Parkinson,

I don't know what you need to speak with me about, but I can give you a few minutes. I'll open my Floo to you for the next two hours. Come through when you wish.

Curiously,
H Potter


He added a temporary access code to his Floo, added the details to the note and sent it off with her owl. Looking at his book, he sighed and put it aside, knowing he wouldn't be able to focus until after Parkinson had said her peace.

He didn't have long to wait. Ten minutes later, his Floo lit up and another Slytherin from his past walked through into his house.

"Hello, Parkinson."

"Zabini."

"Sure. Zabini. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" He waved his wand to ensure their conversation remained private. She stared at his wand, looking worried. "Privacy spell. My children are home."

"Right. Of course. Only the one is at Draco's."

He frowned, senses on alert. "How did you know that?"

She waved him off. "It was all Scorpius could talk about yesterday. When they were visiting."

"Ah." Harry relaxed. "Can I get you a cup of tea?"

"What?" She shifted from one foot to the other. "No. Thank you. I won't be long."

He motioned for her to sit and he resumed his own spot. "So what can I do for you?"

Her face reddened and she practically spit out, "You can put a leash on that Head Auror of yours!"

He sat up straight and glared at her. "Excuse me?" She blinked and fidgeted in her seat. "If you have a complaint to make about Ron or any other of my staff, I suggest you do so at the Ministry. I'm on holidays right now and I don't generally invite people to discuss work in my home."

"I don't think you want me to do that."

Harry was ready to throw her out when he remembered the note. "I thought you said this was about Draco."

"It is. I mean it's both."

"Go on."

She looked at him curiously. "Have you spoken to Draco today?"

"I have, when I dropped Al off."

"And he didn't say anything to you?"

This was sounding more like a fishing expedition than anything else. "Look, Parkinson – Zabini – I don't think whatever we discussed is any of your business. Please get to your point so I can get back to my book."

She looked confused but went on. "Okay, so I guess he hasn't said anything to you yet. Only last night he wasn't himself, and I called him on it. Seems your Head Auror paid him a visit and threatened him."

"He did what?"

"Look, I don't expect you to believe me. We didn't exactly part on the best of terms."

"You mean when you tried to hand me over to Voldemort?"

"Yes. Then." She looked appropriately uncomfortable. "Anyway, I don't expect you to believe me, so maybe you can ask Draco. I don't know all the details – obviously – but I think Draco is going to push you away."

"Excuse me?"

"Look, he told me that the two of you … well … that he's interested. And apparently Weasley knows too. And he wasn't too happy." She looked at him and he didn't see any sign that she might be lying. "And Draco made me promise not to lose my shit on Weasley. So here I am. Because I thought you should know."

He studied her, wondering what her angle was. What she was to gain from this. "And what do you expect me to do about it?"

"I don't expect you to do anything. But I think you'd want to know the truth. So maybe ask Draco. Or Weasley. Or don't. But don't be surprised when Draco walks away."

"I–"

"That's all I came to say. Do with this as you will." She got up and took some Floo powder from the mantel. "Draco's my best friend, and he's hurting right now. I couldn't sit by and do nothing. Bye, Potter."

And she was gone, leaving Harry to wonder what the fuck Ron had done.

He thought about what to do all night, and decided that talking to Ron about something he heard from Pansy Parkinson of all people was not the way to go. But he also couldn't wait until he picked up Al to talk to Draco. So when the rest of the kids went to visit Grandma Molly, he took a chance and Floo-called Draco's house.

"Potter? Is something wrong?"

"Can I come through?"

"Of course."

Harry exited the Floo and stared at Draco, looking for a sign that something was wrong. He sensed there might be something, but … "I had an interesting visitor last night."

"Did you now?"

Harry nodded. "Pansy Parkinson-Zabini."

"Fuck." Draco waved his wand and Harry knew the boys couldn't hear them.

"Imagine my surprise. And she had something interesting to tell me."

"Fuck," he said again. "I bet she did."

"So how about you give me your version of events?"

"Look, Potter, I can't do this right now. We're about to take a sleigh ride." He checked his watch. "In about ten minutes it will arrive."

Harry glanced around the room and saw what he was looking for. He grabbed the pensieve and held it out. "No need to discuss. How about you just show me?"

"I don't think you want–"

"I don't think you know what I want." He stared at the man he just yesterday held in his arms. "Do you have anything to hide?"

"No, but–"

"Then go ahead. I'll watch it; you don't have to."

"Potter. Harry. I don't think you want to see this."

"Perhaps not, but I think I need to."

With reluctance, Draco drew his wand and withdrew a silver strand and placed it in the pensieve. Just then, the boys came running into the room and Draco dropped the privacy spell.

"Dad? What are you doing here? Is something wrong?"

Harry smiled at his son. "No, Al, I just had to ask Mr Malfoy something."

"Are you coming on the sleigh ride too?" Scorpius asked.

Harry chuckled. "Not this time, but you boys have fun. I'll only be a few minutes and then I'll give you your father back."

"Okay. We'll wait outside so we can see when they get here."

"I'll be right out."

Draco reached for Harry's hand. "I really wish you wouldn't."

Harry took a deep breath and dove in. By the time he returned to the room, he was livid. Positively apoplectic with rage. And then he saw Draco's face, the worry etched into it, and relaxed. He glanced towards the door. "Are the boys outside?" Draco nodded. Harry reached out and took Draco's face in his hands and placed the softest of kisses on his lips. "Don't even give that conversation another thought. Ron has no power over me, over his sister or over my children. And he sure as hell will have no power over you if I have anything to say about it. Am I clear?"

Draco nodded. "Crystal."

Harry smiled. "Then go have a sleigh ride with our boys and I'll take care of that." He waved dismissively at the pensieve. "I plan to toast the new year and sing Auld Lang Syne with you soon." He kissed him once more. "And I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

"See you tomorrow."

Draco still looked worried, but there wasn't much else Harry could do about that right now. He had a Head Auror to see to. But first, an ex-wife.

Back home, he Floo-called Ginny and asked if she could come through to chat for a few minutes. When she arrived, she asked, "Everything okay with the kids?"

"Everything's fine. Al's at Scorpius' and they're about to go on a sleigh ride, and the rest of the brood is at your mum's to bring her some cookies they baked."

"So what's up?" She sat down on the sofa and pulled her knees up like she always did. It was strange to see her do that here, now.

Bringing himself back to the matter at hand, he said, "Your brother."

"Dare I ask which one?"

"Which one do you think?"

She rolled her eyes. "Ron. It's always Ron."

"Indeed. So here's the thing." He scratched the back of his neck, wondering how best to broach the topic.

She chuckled. "Just spit it out."

So he did. At least the abridged version. He explained how Draco had been working with them, how they'd solved the case, and how Harry had started having feelings for him. And then he'd kissed him and Ron had seen them. When her jaw dropped open and she stared at him, he said, "Ron isn't too pleased."

She snorted. "Understatement."

"Yeah, well, it gets worse."

"Do tell."

"Ron went to Draco's house to confront him."

"He didn't!"

"He did. And then threatened him." She frowned. "By using our kids."

Her feet dropped to the floor and she leaned forward. "He did what?"

"He told Draco that if he didn't walk away, he'd get you to keep our kids away from me."

"That fucking – How dare he!"

"Exactly my thought."

She looked around the room, at all the family pictures on the walls and mantel. "You know I'd never do something like that, right?"

"Of course I know. Which is what I told Draco. But still. I thought you should know."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "What are you going to do?"

He shrugged. "Haven't quite worked out the details yet."

"I'll leave you to it then." She stood up and walked around the room, looking at the remnants of their life together, picking up an item here and there, then placing it back down. "But I think you should fire him."

He should beat the shit out of him is what he should do. "I know I should. But we'll see what he has to say for himself."

"Kick his arse for me. Then I'll kick it again the next time I see him."

Harry laughed and crossed the room to give her a hug.

She tilted her head and considered him for a moment. "You know, I wondered, back in school. You were always so preoccupied with him."

"With Ron?"

"No. With Malfoy." She let that hang in the air, then said, "He sent me a letter, after the war. After the trials. Apologised on behalf of his father for what happened in second year. And for how his whole family had treated our family."

"He did?"

"Mm hmm. Didn't ask for forgiveness, just hoped I'd accept his apology and wanted me to know he wasn't his father. Wanted me to know that he knew what they'd done was wrong. I wrote back, said I appreciated his reaching out, and that was that. I never spoke to him again."

"I never knew."

She smirked. "Like I said, I wondered back in school. Didn't see the point in telling you anything nice about the guy. You'd already testified for him."

"I'm not sure I know what to say to that."

She shrugged. "Nothing to say. Water under the bridge. And by the way, I've heard nothing but great things about Scorpius, from Slughorn, Albus and the other kids. It's clear that Draco and his wife raised their son without all the prejudice both of them had been taught. That's got to count for something in my book."

"Yeah, he's a great kid."

"Not that you need approval from me or anything, but you could do worse." This entire conversation was way past the surreal stage now. And then she added, "He's pretty hot."

Harry laughed. "No comment."

She winked and grabbed a handful of Floo powder. "Bye, Harry."

"Bye, Gin."

Still not entirely sure how the night would play out, Harry Floo-called Ron. Hermione answered.

"Hey, Harry."

"Hi, Hermione. Listen, if it's not too much of an imposition, I was wondering if I could steal your husband to join me for a pint. It's been a while since we got together outside work and the kids are at Molly's for another couple of hours."

"Oh, that sounds nice. Come on through and I'll go get him. He's just fiddling with one of the gifts he got from Arthur."

Harry didn't like lying to Hermione, but he supposed he wasn't technically lying. He was going to take Ron to the pub. It's just that they were going to have more than a pint.

At the pub, Harry grabbed them both a pint while Ron got them a table. When he sat down with their drinks, he cast a privacy spell. Ron raised a brow but said nothing. They talked about Christmas and the upcoming New Year's party at Ginny's.

"You should come, mate. Gin wouldn't mind."

Harry took a sip. "Nah. We get on just fine, but we have different lives now. I think both of us get enough of each other at the Burrow. No need to push our luck. Besides, it's a bit weird for Pedro. He needs to feel at home in his own place, not have to deal with his wife's ex."

"I guess."

"So the reason I wanted to come out with you today is to talk about Draco."

Ron nearly choked on his beer. Harry had timed that comment for when he was taking a sip. Petty, maybe, but he didn't care. "What about him?"

"I understand you paid him a visit."

He looked uncomfortable now, his ears going pink. "What did he say about it?"

Harry shrugged and took another sip, nearly finishing it. "I'd like to hear your version, actually."

"I don't see what the big deal is."

"Don't you?" Harry waited for him to offer an explanation, but when he didn't, Harry leaned in and said, "I can see the headlines now: Head Auror caught in a scandal, blackmailing a member of the public, a renowned potions master who has contributed greatly to the reparations after the war, and who contributes to various charities throughout wizarding and muggle communities. THAT is what the big deal is."

His ears were now scarlet and his neck was getting there. "I didn't blackmail the ferret."

"Oh, really? Let's review. By definition, blackmail is the crime of demanding money or actions from someone by threatening to reveal damaging secrets, expose embarrassing information, or cause other harm unless their demands are met, often involving coercion and intimidation."

Harry let that sink in, saying no more. He leaned back in his chair and waited for Ron's explosion. It never came. He sat there, stone-faced and silent.

Harry finished his beer and got up to get a refill. "Stay here. We're not done."

He returned with two more pints. He placed Ron's in front of him and took a long pull of his own. "Right. You're on leave, effective immediately. I know you're on holidays now and scheduled to return after New Year's. Take another two weeks off after that. Think about things."

"You can't do that! This has nothing to do with work. You can't--"

Harry leaned forward, getting in Ron's personal space. Through clenched teeth, he said, "Don't tell me what I can and cannot do. You used your own sister, you used me, and you used my children – my children, your own niece and nephews – against a civilian. You have crossed so many lines, personal and professional, I can't even begin to count. Go on leave, Ron. Take vacation, leave without pay, I don't care, but I don't want to see your face, or any other part of you, anywhere near the office until at least January 18th."

"But–"

"But nothing, Ron. If you value your career, don't push me. I am offering you a chance to take some time off to think about things. Off the record. If you'd rather push back, I'll be forced to open an official investigation into your conduct." Ron's jaw dropped. "It won't work out well for you."

"And how is this not coercion or blackmail?"

"This isn't blackmail, Ron. It's repercussions for your own actions."

"But the ferret isn't supposed to suffer any repercussions for what he did to me? What he did to Katie? What his dad did to my sister?"

With as much patience as he could muster, Harry said, "What Draco did to you he did unintentionally, as a minor, under duress, under threat of death to himself and his parents. And he suffered repercussions. We've gone over this before. I'm not discussing it any further with you. As for your sister, it was, as you acknowledge, Lucius who did that, not Draco. And he died in Azkaban, where he'd rotted for years." Harry drank to that. "Oh, and speaking of your sister, have you talked to her about this?"

Ron's face reddened. "No, I haven't. I wasn't actually going to, you know."

"No, actually, I don't know. Seems there's a lot about what you do and say that I don't know. Nevertheless, I think you probably should talk to Gin about this. I have. And she had something interesting to tell me." Ron frowned. "Draco reached out to her years ago, after the war, to apologise. Did you know? Seems she's taken him at his word."

"She what?"

"Talk to her. And while you're at it, talk to your kids. Seems they think Scorpius is a pretty good kid. Not at all like his father when he was in school. Which begs the question: how could a man as horrible as you imagine Draco to be raise such a good kid? One that doesn't believe in pureblood superiority. Worth considering.

"Also, while you're at home, might I suggest you read up on Draco's accomplishments since the war. Talk to McGonagall – did you know he guest lectures at Hogwarts occasionally? Talk to your sister. Talk to your children. Talk to my children. Talk to Teddy and Andromeda and, when you're back, talk to the staff in the lab. Hell, talk to Drummond. They all paint a surprisingly different picture of Draco than you do. Perhaps it isn't everyone else that has the wrong measure of the man."

He removed a vial from his pocket containing some choice memories, memories he hadn't shared with anyone, memories as he'd seen through Voldemort's eyes, including some choice ones of Draco. He'd thought of this after watching Draco's memories earlier that day. Had considered throwing in a couple of his more personal memories, but didn't want to send Ron into complete cardiac arrest, no matter how livid he was. Besides, they were private. "And watch these for a snake's eye view of just a small portion of what Draco suffered during the war."

Ron's jaw clenched, but still he said nothing. He picked up his beer and drank the rest of it in one go, slammed his glass down on the table, then swiped the vial out of Harry's hand.

Harry, having said all he came to say, pushed the remains of his own beer to the side and stood up to go. "The law is on Draco's side, Ron. And he is choosing not to pursue it. Consider that during your time off."
 
 
Sesheta
Title: Second Chance – Chapter Twenty-Four
Author: BERJAYAsesheta_66 || AO3: sesheta_66
Prompts used: BERJAYAslythindor100’s early bird prompt H—Two Stockings on a White Mantlepiece (picture under the cut) and BERJAYAdracoharry100’s prompt 1: Mistletoe
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 3.1K (this part)
Rating: R (eventually; this part PG)
Warning: none
Summary: This is the second Christmas for Draco without Astoria and Harry's first since Ginny remarried. Will best friends Scorpius and Albus be just what they need to rekindle something they'd thought fleeting and lost forever?
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: Written for the BERJAYAslythindor100 Early Bird 25 Days of Draco and Harry and the BERJAYAdracoharry100 Christmas Challenge.

On LJ: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24

OR on AO3

[Chapter 24]

BERJAYA

Second Chance – Chapter 24


Draco spent that evening reliving the kiss with Potter. He’d felt so good, so right in the other man’s arms. It was only one kiss, he kept telling himself, but it felt like so much more than that. It was like the past twenty years hadn’t happened at all. No, that wasn’t right. It was like the past twenty years had simply been the path they’d needed to take in their journey back to each other. They were older, wiser and less concerned about what others thought. Or at least he hoped that was the case.

He kept cautioning himself that he was reading too much into it. Way too much. It was one kiss, under mistletoe, at the end of an evening of drink and festive cheer. Surely that was all there was to it. He hadn’t had the chance to gauge Potter’s reaction when a bumbling Weasley had tumbled out of the Floo, loudly announcing that he’d been charged with the task of bringing an overnight bag for his children. Draco and Potter had pulled apart abruptly, and Draco had fled the scene as calmly as he could.

He really needed to get his emotions – or rather his imagination – under control before he went back to Potter’s place to pick up Scorpius. He’d had some interesting dreams last night, reliving a mix of last night’s kiss and their time together two decades ago. And it had all felt so real. And Draco wanted that. Wanted this new, improved Potter like he’d had him for that fleeting moment so long ago. But this time he wanted to hang onto him.

Potter Floo-called around noon to let Draco know that the other kids had been picked up and he could come by any time. Long after Potter's head had disappeared from the grate, Draco sat staring at his fireplace, decorated in Slytherin colours, stockings and garland hanging from the mantle, thinking about a kiss that had happened not far from a similar one, decorated in Gryffindor colours, at the other end. Shaking off the lingering dreams and thoughts that sprung from them, he went to Grimmauld Place.

Harry smiled as he came through, shaking his head after noting that he once again had no ash residue on his clothes. “Kids are outside building a snowman.”

Draco nodded and abruptly said, “About last night.” He hadn’t meant to say that, didn’t think he’d get the opportunity, to be fair, but there it was. Out there. No turning back.

Potter closed the distance between them, practically pinning Draco against the wall, and Draco’s heart started racing. Potter reached up and brushed a strand of Draco’s hair behind his ear and leaned down. He breathed into his ear and whispered, “I’ve been wanting to do that for weeks, since the first time you stepped into my office.” Then he ran his tongue along the lobe of Draco’s ear and nibbled on it. “God you smell good.”

Draco’s breath caught, his head tipped back, and Potter groaned, tracing a line with his tongue from ear to throat. Draco was instantly hard. “Fuck.”

“Mm. I’d love to. But not with the kids here.”

Draco grabbed Potter’s hair, pulled his head back and stared into that gorgeous face. His green eyes were nearly black, the pupils blown out, and the look of longing he gave Draco left no doubt in his mind. He dove in, devouring Potter’s mouth, pulling their bodies together so there was no hiding how much they both wanted this. Their tongues explored, just like last night, only fiercer, like they’d never again get the chance, like their lives depended on it. Potter let out a moan that Draco thought might be the end of him.

With great effort, they broke apart. “The kids,” Draco said.

Potter cleared his throat. “Right.” He straightened Draco’s shirt – when had that got dishevelled? – and then his own. “We should probably ...”

Draco rested a hand on Potter’s chest, felt his heart thumping. “Continue this later.”

Potter’s smile lit up his entire face. “Definitely.”

Draco spent the rest of the day with Scorpius, doing all the last-minute things: shopping, decorating and wrapping presents, in preparation for the next few days of family visits.

Christmas Eve found them at the Manor with Narcissa. Her face lit up when she saw Scorpius – he always evoked the best in her. Everyone opened one gift, as was tradition, then they sat down to afternoon tea, following which they dove in to the rest of the presents, which were significant. Every year, the adults said the same thing: ”Next year we won’t go overboard” and every year they still did.

After all the gift opening was done – Narcissa’s crystal globe was a particular favourite – she turned to Draco. “Am I to understand correctly that our usual Christmas dinner with my sister will include the Potters?”

Scorpius said, “Yup! So you finally get to meet Al.”

“And Al is your best friend, correct?” She knew this. Draco had told her as much the day he’d learned about it himself.

“Yup. Since first year. And I stayed over at their place on Tuesday, and Al is coming to stay with us for a couple of days next week.”

She grinned, her eyes sparkling at Draco. “Well, well. It seems like a Malfoy-Potter Christmas all around, then.”

“Mm hmm.” Scorpius sounded delighted.

Draco rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t go that far, Mother.”

“Oh, I’m not so sure. You know, I had a lovely visit from Ms Parkinson the other day.”

“Zabini,” Draco corrected. Narcissa waved him off.

“Aunt Pansy?”

She smiled indulgently at her grandson. “That’s right. And she told me something very interesting.”

Draco cringed inside. “Did she now?” He hadn’t told his mother that he’d been working with Potter.

“Indeed. She tells me that you are working for Mr Potter.”

Scorpius looked at his dad. “What? You work for Al’s dad?”

She chuckled. “Seems I’m not the only one that didn’t know.”

That’s because it’s none of your business. Fucking Pansy. “I was not working for Potter. I was working with Potter, as I already explained to Pansy.”

“Semantics.”

“Are you an auror now too, Dad?”

“No, son, I’m not an auror.”

“But you catch bad guys?”

Narcissa grinned at her grandson, but Draco knew it was all for him. “If you must know, Al’s father asked me to assist on a case. It involved drugs and some children were getting hurt, some dying. They needed expertise from someone who knows potions very well, so they asked me to help just this once.”

“Did you solve the case?” Scorpius asked.

“Yes, we did.”

“Is the guy going to prison for a long time?”

“We certainly hope so.”

Scorpius thought about this for some time before his face fell. “So you don’t work for Al’s dad any more?”

With him. And no, I don’t. It was just this one time, for this case. Now that it’s done, I am back working at my lab.”

“Are you sure?” his mother asked.

Draco scowled. “Of course I’m sure. It was one time. They found themselves without a potions master on staff – he’d recently retired and they haven’t yet found a replacement – so they reached out to me. That’s it. End of story.”

“They’re short-staffed you say?” Narcissa asked. He rolled his eyes, knowing where she was going with this.

“Why don’t you take the job, Dad? You and Mr Potter could work together all the time.” Narcissa laughed, clearly enjoying the direction the conversation had taken.

“First of all, Scorpius, I have my own job, and I enjoy it very much. And, as your grandmother already knows, I don’t much like the Ministry, so I don’t want to work there.”

Scorpius frowned. “You don’t like Mr Potter?”

“That’s not what I said. I like him just fine. What I don’t like is where he works.”

“Oh.”

“And Al’s Uncle Ron works there too.”

“And he doesn’t like you,” Scorpius grumbled. Narcissa scoffed at that, but held her tongue.

“That’s correct, and just between you and me, the feeling is mutual. So there’s no reason whatsoever for me to go work there. I’m happy where I am. I have responsibilities of my own. I have lots of people that depend on me for a job. And after I testify in this one case, I’ll be done with the Ministry for good.”

“Okay.” He didn’t look happy, but nor did he look particularly upset.

“Right, so now that’s over, let’s get ready for dinner."

Christmas dinner was delicious, as always. Mass was solemn, as always. And Narcissa continued to grill Draco after Scorpius went to bed, as always. After a morning cup of tea, they left for brunch at the Greengrasses.

Astoria’s absence was most notable when they visited her family. And without anyone his own age to interact with, Scorpius stayed by Draco’s side much of the time. More of an observance than a celebration, now that Astoria was gone, the afternoon crept by.

The next day, Scorpius was excited again, knowing that he’d be seeing Al. Draco couldn’t deny that he was feeling similarly about seeing Al’s dad. Unfortunately, he doubted he’d have much opportunity to continue what they’d started with their children present, never mind his mother, aunt and cousin.

He was correct, as it turned out. Narcissa capitalised on the opportunity to ask Potter what he’d been up to since the war. Andromeda seemed amused but Draco was not. He had no idea what Pansy had said to his mother, but he suspected it was more than details about his working for the Ministry. This was sounding more and more like a grilling. But Potter took it all in stride.

Draco hadn't had much opportunity to observe the man, despite their working together over the past few weeks, but what he had seen reflected two very different people. When in the office – his office – he was all seriousness. He worked hard, led well, and commanded attention and respect. When at home, as he was here, he smiled often, laughed heartily, and had a twinkle in those green eyes Draco hadn't recalled seeing at school. He supposed that when Harry was around him back at Hogwarts, he hadn’t been inclined to be happy or carefree.

“Did you know,” Narcissa asked Andromeda, “that Draco and Harry have been working together?”

“But I thought you’d said you’d never in a million years work for the Ministry,” his aunt said.

“Yes, well, Potter here asked as a personal favour.” He turned to Potter. “And paid me rather handsomely for my troubles.”

Harry grinned. “Worth every penny.”

Narcissa’s curious gaze went unnoticed.

Later, as they sat down to dinner, Andromeda said, "I'm just so pleased you’re all here, and that I can finally have a proper family Christmas dinner, instead of the two separate ones. It is the season for family, after all, isn't it?”

A month ago, Draco could not have imagined the path his life would take this year. Here he sat, at a Christmas dinner with family that somehow included Harry Potter. He knew, obviously, that Potter was Teddy’s godfather, but he supposed he’d never really thought of him as family, extended or otherwise. But as they sat around the table, it felt right. He wondered what Potter thought about it all.

When the meal was done and presents opened, the children were off playing with their gifts, and Narcissa and Andromeda started chatting in the corner, finally Draco had a moment to chat with Potter.

“How was your Christmas?”

“Same as usual. Total mayhem, great food, good company. Time with my kids is always welcome. You?”

“Same, minus the mayhem.”

“Speaking of mayhem, I think Al is going to invite Scorpius to celebrate New Year’s with him. Thought you might want a head’s up.”

“They’re with Ginevra, right?”

He nodded. “Al says that Ginny’s good with that, so ...”

“What do you think?”

“I think Gin isn’t her brother, and if she says he’s welcome, he's welcome.”

Draco agreed. “Well, if he wants to go, then, I guess that will be fine.”

Harry smiled and scooted a bit closer. Not so close for outside eyes to notice, but close enough for Draco to feel the warmth of his body. “So, does that mean you’re free for New Year’s?”

Draco smirked. “Why, what did you have in mind?”

“Use your imagination." He waggled his eyebrows. "Interested?”

Draco couldn’t help but laugh. “Definitely.”

***

The next day, Narcissa had invited Scorpius to join her for afternoon tea, just the two of them, so Draco had a few hours to himself. He’d just curled up in his favourite chair with a new book he’d received for Christmas, when a loud banging came at the door.

“Malfoy, open up!” What the hell? “Malfoy, it’s Weasley. Open up. I want to talk to you.”

Draco weighed his options: open the door to who-knew-what or ignore him, have him blast the door open – he was no fool; he knew the Head Auror could do it – and still deal with who-knew-what. He liked his door, so he opted for the former, while sure to keep his wand handy.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Weasley? And how did you know where I live?”

“I'm an auror. I'll let you work that out." Cocky bastard. "So what do you think you’re playing at, Malfoy? What are you trying to accomplish?”

The man was demented, Draco was convinced. “I’m quite sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play dumb with me. I’m talking about Harry.” When Draco – not sure what the lunatic was getting at – didn’t answer, he said, "So which is it, ferret? Is Harry a target because of perceived weakness or because he's an opportunity for you to gain from associating with him?"

Recognising his own words being thrown in his face, Draco still didn’t understand. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about you insinuating yourself into Harry's life. First at work, then at home." Draco stared, dumbfounded, at the weasel. What the fuck the idiot was going on about, he had no idea. "I saw you." At Draco's non-response, he said, "I. Saw. You. At the party. After everyone had left and you came back. I saw you and Harry. I came back to bring an overnight bag for the kids. I stepped out of the Floo and what do you think I saw?"

Well fuck. Obviously he’d come through, saw them, then made all that noise so they wouldn’t know. "There was mistletoe," Draco said lamely.

"Mistletoe?" The weasel laughed. "Do you honestly think that an auror of Harry's skill could be held captive by a spell cast by children? Or by something from a joke shop? The man who could fight off the Imperius curse in fourth year? Come on now, even you aren't that stupid."

No, he wasn't that stupid. He just hadn't really given it any thought. He'd just gone along with it, let himself have a little innocent fun. And what did Weasley care about it anyway? Draco squared his shoulders, doing his level best not to give the head auror a reason to hex him or throw him in prison. "What business is it of yours?"

Weasley closed in on him and jabbed a finger into his chest. "I'll tell you what business it is of mine. Harry is my friend, and I'll be damned if you are going to sink your filthy claws into him."

Draco shoved his hand away. He'd known Weasley wouldn't accept Harry and him together. That was a big part of why they'd parted ways twenty years ago. Because everyone around them – friends, family, Ministry officials, the media, the public – would have been against it, and there's no way they could have overcome that. But he remembered Harry's comment the other night: I don't give a damn what anyone thinks. Draco believed him. They were no longer teenagers fighting against the world's opinions, doing what everyone else thought they ought to. They'd been down that road before. They were grown men now, accomplished, confident men, able to stand up to the naysayers and do what they thought was best for themselves.

"For your information, I haven't sunk my claws into Harry, as you so eloquently put it. As you said, he's a skilled auror. He's not going to be duped into doing anything he doesn't want to do. And I doubt anything you have to say on the matter is going to change his mind." He wasn't entirely sure that was true, but he hoped it was.

"That may be true, but let me assure you, I will make sure he does what's right."

Draco laughed. Now who was being stupid? "You can't make Harry do anything. You can't protect him from his own decisions. Who do you think you are?"

Weasley's ears and neck turned a startling shade of red. "I may not be able to protect him from his bad decisions, but I sure as hell can protect my niece and nephews."

"What?" Wow, power clearly had gone to Weasley's head. And what the hell did Harry's kids have to do with this? "They aren't your children."

"No, but they're my sister's children." He grinned maniacally. "And there's no way in hell she'll stand for you being around them, influencing them." Draco's stomach fell and he thought he was going to throw up. Was he serious? "See, Gin and Harry get along pretty well, all things considered. No problems with custody of the kids and all that. But with you in the picture, do you really think my sister will continue that way? I wouldn't count on it."

Draco didn't know what to say. He'd always imagined that the weasel would use his power to punish Draco, given the slightest opportunity, which is why he'd kept a healthy distance from him for all these years. But to punish Harry because of him? That was seriously fucked up.

"Given the choice between you and his kids, who do you think Harry will choose?" He pulled out his wand and it was all Draco could do not to flinch. He might not have succeeded. "Do yourself a favour and walk away before Harry pushes you away. Because if you don't, I will go to my sister and she will do what's right for her kids, no matter what Harry might want."

He gave Draco a parting shove, sneered at him, and with a swish of his wand and a loud crack, disappeared into the night.
 
 
 
Sesheta
Title: Second Chance – Chapter Twenty-Three
Author: BERJAYAsesheta_66 || AO3: sesheta_66
Prompts used: BERJAYAslythindor100’s early bird prompt Q—Toy Car with Christmas Tree (picture under the cut) and BERJAYAdracoharry100’s prompt 28: Returning Gifts
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 4.8K (this part)
Rating: R (eventually; this part PG)
Warning: none
Summary: This is the second Christmas for Draco without Astoria and Harry's first since Ginny remarried. Will best friends Scorpius and Albus be just what they need to rekindle something they'd thought fleeting and lost forever?
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: Written for the BERJAYAslythindor100 Early Bird 25 Days of Draco and Harry and the BERJAYAdracoharry100 Christmas Challenge.

On LJ: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23

OR on AO3

[Chapter 23]

BERJAYA

Second Chance – Chapter 23


Thursday was a flurry of activity. Draco finished analysing the newest batch and it had, in fact, been upgraded – or downgraded, depending on how you looked at it. When he presented his findings to the team, he'd been clear that the latest version, in all likelihood, would have been fatal to the majority taking it. The potioneer had increased the potency and the additional catalyst that accelerated the effects, and had included one additional ingredient – essence of belladonna. Draco deferred to the Healers to provide more details on its potential effects, but if he were to guess, the addition of that, toxic in and of itself, to a potion that already induced hallucinations, he'd have said that the intent was clear: the man was out to kill. It was no longer about selling potions and making money, if that had ever been his intent. It was about taking out kids.

He'd still not said much to the aurors and had lawyered up. Even still, he would remain in custody until the new year when the courts would schedule his first appearance.

The team had compiled all the evidence and had catalogued everything. Included in his belongings was an encoded journal that had yet to be deciphered. The evidence was overwhelming, and his magical signature was all over the lab, so they had him dead to rights. But intent mattered. A conviction on drug trafficking carried a significantly lesser sentence that attempted murder, so they hoped that in January they'd be able to read the contents of his journal and determine his motive. Either way, he was going to prison, but everyone on the case was hoping for a life sentence.

By the end of the day, they'd done all they needed before the break and those who scheduled for time off had wished everyone a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year and had left.

Ron came by Harry's office around four o'clock. "I'm heading out. Hermione wants to get a few things ready before picking up the kids. See you at King's Cross?"

Harry grinned. He was looking forward to seeing his kids, even if just for a few minutes. He could use a few bear hugs after the past few weeks of work. "I'll head over there straight from here. Just have a few more things to finish up before calling it a day. See you in a couple of hours."

"See you then."

Half an hour later, Draco knocked on his door. "Well, that's me. I've done the last of the reports (copied both you and Drummond) and left plenty of notes for the lab team. You all know where to reach me if you have any questions or follow-up work you need from me. But other than that, and testifying whenever the court date is scheduled, I think my work here is done."

Harry motioned for him to sit. "Thanks for everything, Draco. You did a great job, and I'm not sure how far along we'd be right now without you."

"I'm sure you–"

"Just take the compliment." Harry had thought about this a lot last night. "It's heartfelt and well-earned. You heard everyone last night. Yes, we would have hired someone else if you hadn't agreed to take the contract, but there's no telling how long it would have taken to crack the case. You are very good at what you do, and have clearly earned your reputation. Mungo's knew what they were doing when they recommended you. I thought you should hear that from me, and not just as part of a group toasting to a job well done."

He fidgeted in his seat. "It was a team effort."

"Yes, it was. And you were an integral part of that team. So thank you for agreeing to work with us."

He exhaled and seemed to relax. "I enjoyed it, to be honest." Draco smiled. "I didn't know what to expect. I'd sworn to never work for the Ministry, but–"

"But then I made you an offer you couldn't refuse?"

He chuckled. "Something like that." He gave Harry a curious look. "You're also very good at what you do, you know, and – shockingly – you seem to have earned your reputation too."

Harry rolled his eyes. "That must have hurt."

"A little bit, yeah." Draco coughed to hide a laugh. "But it's true. You have a great team here and they do a fantastic job, pitching in to help each other out, leaving no stone unturned."

"I like to think so. And in case you missed it, they were pretty receptive to having you as part of that team, even if for a short time."

Draco shuffled uncomfortably in his seat. "Most of them, yes. And they were easy to work with."

Harry didn't comment on the obvious reference to Ron. At least it had never come to blows, and truth be told, Harry was relieved at how well they'd worked together the few times they'd had to. Instead, he teased, "Helps that the lab techs idolise you."

He spread his arms and smirked. "What's not to love?"

Indeed. "So what now?"

"Now I go back to my life before crime-fighting." Harry snorted. "My team has pretty much wrapped everything up for the year, so I'm just going to go home for an hour or so before heading over to King's Cross to get Scorpius."

Harry didn't want him to leave just yet. "Let's grab a pint, then head over to the station together."

"I thought Ginevra had the children."

"She does, but I still want to meet them at the train. Tradition and all that. And I'd like to ask them if they have any special requests I can take care of before they come home. Food and drink for the party, last-minute gifts, whatever."

"Okay, then. On me this time, yeah? It seems I've earned some extra cash this month."

"Sure." Harry left the rest of his work – he'd be back here tomorrow – and grabbed his coat. "But I get to choose the place."

Draco groaned as they left, mumbling something about another pub. They did indeed go back to the pub down the street, but Harry pointed out that since they weren't eating, Draco had nothing to complain about.

"Have you done all your Christmas shopping?" Harry asked.

"Pretty much." He nodded. "I have everything for Scorpius done, and any gifts from just me. Then I have my usual shopping day with Scorpius to pick up the gifts for Astoria's family, Andromeda and Teddy, and anything else he wants to get. Maybe a stocking stuffer or two. How about you?"

Harry grinned as he recalled his favourite gift. He had found the best gift for Arthur – a model car that, with a simple spell, morphed into the full-sized version, fully functional and equipped with many magical spells. It wasn't a Ford Anglia – which was Harry's first choice, obviously – but rather a Volkswagen Beetle, complete with Christmas tree atop, and it would have to do. And if Arthur argued, he'd tell him that there was no such thing as returning gifts for Harry. Besides, it was his and Ron's fault he'd lost his own car all those years ago. And the beauty of it was that Molly need never know, presuming his kids could keep their mouths shut around her. In fact, Percy would be the only one besides her that wouldn't know. As far as the two of them were concerned, it was a quirky novelty gift that they'd never miss once it mysteriously disappeared.

"Most of it," he said, "unless I get a huge list from the kids tonight. Still a few things left, but nothing I can't pick up in the next few days."

Draco's watched buzzed and he glanced at it. "Speaking of the kids, we should get going. The train's due in soon."

When they arrived at the platform, Ron and Hermione were already there and she waved to Harry. Ron, taking in the fact that Harry and Draco had arrived together, scowled.

Harry turned to Draco and noticed he was looking in Ron's direction as well, his smile now gone. "Enjoy your time with Scorpius and I'll see you on Tuesday evening."

Draco turned away from Ron. "See you on Tuesday." Much to Harry's dismay, he didn't sound remotely enthusiastic about the idea.

As Harry approached Ron and Hermione, he ignored Ron's questioning – and annoyed – look. "How've you been?" he asked Hermione, leaning in for a hug. "All set for Christmas?"

"Great, thanks. Still some last-minute shopping to do with the kids, but otherwise we're good."

Ron continued to scowl until the train came into view. His mood improved as the mayhem began and soon he was off gathering up the kids and chatting with friends. With Ginny greeting their children, Harry used this opportunity to speak to Hermione. "Looking forward to seeing everyone on Tuesday."

"Same. We'll bring our usual cheese platter."

"Sounds good. So … I have something to discuss with you. As you know, Al and Scorpius are close friends."

"Mm hmm."

"So Al wants to have Scorpius over to the party too."

She narrowed her eyes. "And?"

"And, well, he also figured that since all the other parents stick around, that we should invite Draco as well." He waited for a response but when she said nothing, he continued. "So I did."

"I see." She glanced over to where Draco was standing. "And what did he say?"

"He said he would, but if it got uncomfortable, he'd leave."

"And by if it gets uncomfortable, you mean if Ronald makes it uncomfortable."

No point denying the obvious. "Yes."

"And you're telling me this because … what? You want me to smooth things over?"

He grinned. "Al thought that would be best. He's already spoken to Rose, I think."

She chuckled. "Fine. I presume, since I didn't get an earful from my husband – other than the daily why do I have to work with that ferret rants, that you haven't yet broken the news to him?"

"I have not."

"And you expect me to?"

"No. I can tell him. But I thought I'd run it past you first. See what you think. Tell him now and let him stew about it all weekend? Wait until Monday or Tuesday so he can prepare but not go crazy? Or don't bother telling him and just have Draco show up?"

She glanced towards Draco again, then towards Ron. "Let me think about it and get back to you."

"You're a peach."

"Yeah, yeah."

While on the subject, he asked, "Why exactly is he so angry, so many years later? I mean I understand back during the war and shortly after, but it's been twenty years. And they sort-of got on during this case."

"Did they now?"

"Well they didn't fight. And Ron didn't scream the house down."

"Ah, well, that's because he saved it for home."

"Shit, Hermione, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to put you in that position."

"Oh, never mind that. I'm used to him ranting about this and that. Then he gets it off his chest and moves on."

"But that's the thing. He hasn't moved on. He was so pissed about my testifying that he didn't speak to me for months. Then after that it took a long time to feel like things were nearly back to normal. But even then, it never felt the same. And we never talked about it. I don't get it."

"Oh, Harry, don't you see? He felt betrayed by you. Like you chose Draco over Ron."

"What? But–" Harry didn't know what to say. "I explained it to him, what Draco had gone through, that he hadn't meant to hurt Ron or Katie. He was just a teenager whose parents were being threatened, and who stupidly, carelessly tried to do what Voldemort had ordered him to do. He didn't think through his actions, but he didn't deserve life in prison."

"I know all that, and I agree with you, but …" She bit her lip and glanced Ron's way again.

"But what?"

"But … well, it drove him mad how obsessed you were with Draco in school, especially in sixth year. Long before you testified for him." She hesitated and Harry let the silence linger. "I think he thought maybe there was more to it, even then."

"More to what?"

"I don't know, Harry. Maybe you were going to replace him as your best friend. Maybe more than that. It's … well, now you hired him to work at the Ministry." Harry stared at her, trying to process exactly what she was suggesting. "Why did you hire him anyway?"

"Because he was recommended by St Mungo's. They said he was the best."

"Oh, Ron didn't say." She glanced towards Draco. "Is he really that good?"

Harry nodded. "He's really that good."

"Oh. I didn't realise. I mean, I've heard whispers, but nothing definitive."

Whispers of what he didn't ask, as their conversation was interrupted by the appearance of Ron, Ginny and the five kids. Harry got the bear hugs he'd been hoping for, as well as a list of things to pick up before he saw them again Monday night. He then wished his own brood a happy trip to Mallorca – to which their cousins groaned, wishing they could go too – and said he'd see them soon. He bade farewell to Ron, Hermione and their kids and left the station.

On the way home, Harry reflected on what Hermione had said. He hadn't been obsessed with Draco in school. He'd hated him. He'd been a royal pain in Harry's arse. A thorn in his side. Okay, Harry had been preoccupied with him in sixth year, but only because he'd known Draco had been up to something, and no one had believed him, including Ron. He'd had no choice but to prove it to everyone. And in the end he'd been vindicated.

But how did that translate into replacing Ron as his friend? He and Draco had hated each other in school. And why the hell would any of that matter now anyway? Ron and Hermione were happily married – if anyone had been pushed out of their friendship trio, it had been Harry, and he didn't go round glaring at Hermione. Ron and Harry worked together. All three of them had busy lives that meant they didn't spent a lot of time together outside of work, but they still made a point of getting together at least once a month.

Then Harry replayed the past few weeks, trying to see things from Ron's perspective. Harry and Ron had worked together for years, had made drastic changes at the Ministry and had built one hell of an auror team. Then Harry had brought Draco in to the mix. Maybe not directly with the aurors on the most part, but still invading his – their – space. When Ron had tried to object, Harry had overridden his argument. He'd said Ron wouldn't have to work directly with him most of the time, but in the end he'd had to, even if only a few times. Then when Ron had made that smart-arse remark to Draco, Harry had stepped in to stop him. Rightfully so, but Ron might not have seen it that way, might have seen it as Harry taking Draco's side. Then fast forward to last night, and the whole team working the case – aurors and lab geeks alike – had toasted Draco for all his efforts, and Drummond, whom Ron had mentored, had even given Draco credit for cracking the case.

Okay, so Harry could see why Ron might feel threatened. He was wrong, obviously, but thinking back on their lives, Ron had often displayed an inability to see past his own obstinacy. But Ron was an adult now; they all were. And he needed to act like one. Harry was all for being understanding, and had been known for cutting people some slack, particularly when they'd been weighed down by other things, but Ron was acting like they were all still back in school. The glares, the snippy remarks.

Draco would no longer be working with them, but Harry didn't want to go back to his life before the snarky Slytherin had re-entered his life. He had no idea if Draco felt the same way or not, but they'd got on well, and he thought – hoped – that it would lead to more. They'd walked away from what they'd had, or what they'd started to have, years ago, in large part because of what they'd known other people would say and the pressure that might have had on any relationship they might have gone forward with.

But, like Ron, they weren't children any more. And Harry would be damned if he'd let other people's opinions dictate what he was going to do with the rest of his life. He and Ginny had had a good run and had three wonderful children. But that was over. She'd moved on with her life, and though Harry hadn't considered it before Draco came back into the picture, he meant to do the same going forward.

Whether his future included Draco as a friend, a fellow parent of friends, or as more remained to be seen. But he knew for certain he wanted to find out. No matter what Ron or anyone else had to say on the matter. How it might impact his and Ron's friendship, well … that would be up to Ron.

The next few days passed with little fanfare. Paperwork at the office and shopping after work.

Ginny had dropped off the kids the previous night, and they'd all been up until way too late talking about their trip and all the gifts they'd got for everyone. To Harry's great pleasure, they'd all agreed that Harry's gift for Arthur would be a hit.

And now the party preparations were done, and they'd just finished supper – Harry followed Ginny's long-established tradition of giving everyone a healthy meal before the festivities began and all the junk was available for consumption. As guests started arriving, the kids went to the play room where all the games were, and where they didn't need to listen to the old folks nattering away. But Al had stayed back.

"Dad, could we talk?"

Harry excused himself and went to the kitchen with Al. "What's up?"

"Mr Malfoy's coming, right?"

"Yes, he is."

"And you talked to Aunt Hermione, right?"

"I did, Al. I told you that last night."

"Okay. Do you think it'll be okay?" Harry had no idea. Hermione had told him that it might be best if they all said nothing to Ron, just let it happen organically. She and Rose had apparently discussed it and had decided that would be the best course of action. Harry wasn't so sure, but deferred to the women in Ron's life.

"I really don't know, Al. But if it becomes unpleasant, Mr Malfoy will leave and come back to pick Scorpius up later." He looked relieved. Harry put a hand on his shoulder. "Don't you worry about anything. When they arrive, I'll send Scorpius to join you lot, yeah?"

"Okay. Thanks, Dad."

By the time Draco arrived with Scorpius, the party was well underway and they were the last to arrive. "Glad you could make it," Harry said. "The fun party is upstairs, second room on the left," he said to Scorpius, and winked. He looked at his dad, who nodded, and then took off up the stairs. Harry said to Draco, "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be," he said, again not sounding enthused.

Harry chuckled. "Ron's not the only one here, and the two of you got on alright, so come on through."

He mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like "house full of Gryffindors" and Harry nudged him in the shoulder.

"All houses are represented, I'll have you know," Harry assured him.

"Sure they are."

Those who'd been in their year greeted him like an old friend.

"Draco, good to see you."

"Long time, no see."

"Malfoy! I hear you'd give Snape a run for his money these days."

Those who hadn't known him from school recognised his name from his philanthropic efforts or knew of him because of Scorpius. All in all, he'd been greeted pleasantly by most of the guests.

Andromeda gave him a big hug. "Oh, Teddy will be so glad to see you."

"I didn't know you'd be here," he said to his aunt.

"Oh, I won't be staying long – it's for the young folks – but Harry always insists I stay at least long enough for a drink and to try Luna's special concoction. She brings something new every year." She leaned in and whispered, "This year it's safe enough to eat. Nothing too crazy." She pulled back and winked. "You never know with that one."

Even Ron was behaving himself. He didn't look happy, but he turned his attention away from Draco and towards a conversation with Seamus and Dean.

Harry relaxed. "Okay then?" Draco nodded. "What can I get you to drink?"

After warning Draco not to accept anything from George Weasley (unless he wanted to throw up or sprout feathers) or accept a drinking challenge from Seamus, he left him with Andromeda and Luna and went to mingle with his other guests.

Things went well, and when Andromeda left at around nine o'clock, she brought Teddy in to see Draco. He immediately announced, "Wow! I thought you two didn't get along and that's why we always had two Christmases at our place." He turned to his grandmother. "We should totally have them all over together!"

Andromeda smiled and said, "You know, I think that might be a nice idea, Teddy. What say you boys?"

Harry and Draco exchanged a glance and a nod, then Draco said, "Well, I can check with Mother, but I'd say that's fine." Harry nodded.

"Great!" Clearly unconcerned about her sister's thoughts, she went on. "Let's say the 26th then. Does that work for everyone?" They all agreed it would work just fine and they would see her then.

As she left, Harry heard Ron's voice in the background accepting a challenge from Seamus, and thought things might start to go downhill fast. He cornered Hermione to see if she could maybe keep an eye on him – generally a jovial drunk, if Ron had a reason to be angry, it would come out with no filter once he was three sheets to the wind.

At shortly after ten, as Harry was getting a plate of food, Draco leaned in to him and said, "Thanks for inviting me."

Harry breathed in the scent of sandalwood and wanted to pull the man closer. He turned instead to face him. "You're leaving? But it's still early."

He nodded. "Yes, but I do believe your friend is only barely containing his annoyance at my presence and his looks are getting more pointed and lengthy as the night progresses."

Harry frowned. "Let me at him!"

Draco laughed and put a hand on his chest, presumably to stop him. Now Harry really wanted to pull him in closer. "Oh, that would be a sight! Let's just say I've had a nice time, and I appreciate the hospitality." Harry did his best not to pout and he was pretty sure he pulled it off. "Scorpius is having a great time, so I told him I'd be back later to pick him up. What time would be best?"

Harry shrugged. "After midnight." He looked over Draco's shoulder at Ron, who was staring daggers at both of them from across the room. Turning back to Draco, he said, "Some people have work in the morning and will leave earlier, but I can call you when the coast is clear."

"That works. I'll wait for your call."

He left and Harry went back to the party. Eventually, the guests said their goodbyes, wishing everyone a Merry Christmas and thanking Harry for hosting. When Hermione went to get Rose and Hugo, however, Harry's lot and Teddy ganged up on her and begged her to let the kids stay. Harry said it was fine – Teddy was already staying and Harry wasn't going to work in the morning – so she said okay.

Harry wished her and Ron a Merry Christmas and said they could have a lie-in the next day. He could get the kids brunch and they could come get them anytime in the afternoon.

Once they'd left, Al and Teddy asked, "Can Scorpius stay too?"

Harry smiled and said he was fine with that, but he'd have to ask his dad. Harry then Floo-called Draco. "Hello there."

"Potter, I was starting to wonder if you were going to call."

Harry smiled. "Ron and Hermione just left. But their kids are staying over, and your cousin Teddy and your son's best friend have asked if he could stay too."

"Oh, no. You've enough on your plate."

"Precisely. One more is a piece of cake!" At Draco's hesitation, he said, "Seriously, Draco, it's fine. Al really wants him to stay, as does Teddy. There's plenty of room, and I'm not working tomorrow. Besides, you'll be hosting Al for two nights. Least I can do."

"Alright then. Give me a few minutes to pack him a bag and I'll bring it over."

Harry announced that Scorpius was allowed to stay, which got a very excited response from Al, Scorpius, Teddy and Rose, then got the kids to clear up the mess they'd made in the party room. They decided on eggs, bacon and waffles for brunch the next day and asked if they'd be allowed to stay up playing quiet games for a bit. Harry agreed to one more hour, after which they had to get their teeth brushed and pyjamas on. It would take him that long to clean up the rest of the place anyway.

Draco came through the Floo a short time later. "Potter?"

"In here," Harry called from the kitchen. "Just putting away the food and clearing up the mess."

He came into the kitchen. "Rest of the night go okay?"

"It did. Kids played a few jokes and hid a few surprises around the house – thanks to Fred for bringing some products from his dad's shop – but otherwise it was fairly quiet. The wives managed to slow the flow of Firewhisky, much to Seamus' shagrin, so nothing got too out of hand and I think fun was had by all." He waved his wand and the wrapped food flew into the fridge. Another wave and the garbage put itself out.

"Handy with those household charms."

Harry bowed. "I have many hidden talents."

Draco laughed. "I just bet you do."

Harry smiled. "I'm glad you could make it. Maybe next year you can stay longer."

Draco smirked. "We'll see. Are the kids still in the game room?"

"They are indeed."

He held up Scorpius' overnight bag. "I'll just go give this to him, then."

"I'll come with you, let them know that time is ticking." At Draco's confused look, he explained, "I gave them another hour to play quietly before getting ready for bed."

They went to go upstairs, but on the landing of the steps, they were halted and couldn't move. Harry looked up and sighed. "Missed one." He pointed up. "Mistletoe. And if I'm not mistaken, it's charmed to hold people captive until they kiss."

"Oh, for the love of–" Draco pulled out his wand.

Harry placed a hand on his arm, suddenly very pleased that Fred had raided his father's stock. "I hear it's worth a year of bad luck not to kiss under mistletoe."

Draco's eyes darkened. "Well then. We'd better not risk it."

Harry didn't know who moved first, but soon his hands were cupping Draco's cheeks, Draco's arms slid around Harry's back, and their lips came together like Harry had longed for since that day a few weeks ago when Draco had first walked into his office. Their bodies shifted and pressed up against each other, aligning perfectly, as they had so long ago. Or had it been just yesterday? He had no idea how long they stood there, embracing, hands roaming and tongues exploring, rediscovering the feel and taste of one another, before they reluctantly broke the kiss.

So caught up in the moment, neither had noticed the Floo come to life and Ron come through with an overnight bag of his own.
 
 
Sesheta
Title: Second Chance – Chapter Twenty-Two
Author: BERJAYAsesheta_66 || AO3: sesheta_66
Prompts used: BERJAYAslythindor100’s early bird prompt L—Two Dogs and a Wreath in the Window (picture under the cut) and BERJAYAdracoharry100’s prompt 8: Cookie Exchange
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 1.7K (this part)
Rating: R (eventually; this part PG)
Warning: none
Summary: This is the second Christmas for Draco without Astoria and Harry's first since Ginny remarried. Will best friends Scorpius and Albus be just what they need to rekindle something they'd thought fleeting and lost forever?
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: Written for the BERJAYAslythindor100 Early Bird 25 Days of Draco and Harry and the BERJAYAdracoharry100 Christmas Challenge.

On LJ: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22

OR on AO3

[Chapter 22]

BERJAYA

Second Chance – Chapter 22


Things moved quickly over the next couple of days. The homeless man was found and interviewed. While he was fuzzy on details, his overall description matched the missing potioneer. They hit pay dirt when they found a lease on a flat in his name, in a Muggle neighbourhood near to where the two men had met. It seemed an almost certainty that he was their guy. Now they just had to find him. And when they did, they'd bring the homeless man – currently housed in a hotel with an auror babysitter – to positively identify him.

They didn't have enough evidence for a warrant to search the flat, but that didn't stop them putting a surveillance camera and an undetectable monitoring charm outside the building. They were able to isolate a sample of his magical signature from a neighbour in his home town in Wales – he'd apparently done some repairs on their shed and Drummond was able to isolate it. If he showed up, it would trigger the alarm and the auror team would get the signal. Alternatively, they might catch him on camera. Or, if they got a positive identification from the homeless man, they could get a warrant.

While they waited for that, they continued to pursue other leads, to be sure they didn't leave any stone unturned. Draco had gone through all but five of the patents and only one other potion looked to be of even close to a similar quality.

Mungo's had approved use of the antidote on the rest of the patients, with parental permission, and had received it from all. They'd begun administering it and hoped to revive the unconscious and halt the hallucinations. It would still be touch-and-go for some, as they weren't sure if permanent damage had been done, but the team of Healers on the case remained hopeful.

They had enough antidote for all current patients, and a small supply beyond that. If there wasn't a mass influx of new cases in the next few days, they'd be good. Mungo's had contracted Draco's team to manufacture a substantial supply, and he'd passed that along to Nigel to start working on filling the order.

Meanwhile, the Hogwarts Express would be arriving at King's Cross the next evening, so everyone with school-aged children was working as hard as they could to wrap things up, so they could start their break. Harry would meet the train to say a quick hello to his kids before Ginny whisked them away to Mallorca. He planned to work through the weekend, since he wanted to spend the week with the kids, leading up to New Year's when they'd go back to Gin's, and hoped this case wouldn't linger.

Drummond banged on his door. "We got him!"

"When? Did he try to scarper? Tell me he didn't ask for a lawyer."

"Just now. He just stood there, apparently shocked that anyone would have actually figured out who he was. And not yet. You in?"

"Definitely. Did you tell Draco?"

"Nope, you're the first one. I can go tell him now."

"No, it's alright. I'll go get him and we'll meet you there to strategise. I'd like Draco observing, so he can prompt with questions or clarify some of his answers." Harry thought about the dynamic. "I think you and Ron would be best. Tag team however you feel will play to your strengths. I'll stay out and observe with Draco. Get everything set up and let him sit alone for a while."

Harry flew down to the lab and found Draco, as always, immersed in his work. "Draco, care to meet the poisoner?"

"You got him?" He dropped what he was doing, grabbed his notes and made for the door.

"Drummond just notified me. They're bringing him to interrogation. I thought, if you're comfortable with the idea, that you might observe like you did the last time. Maybe nudge them in the right direction regarding potions details."

"Are you kidding me? Of course I'm good with that. You couldn't keep me away." He pushed past Harry and out the door, while Harry tried to keep up.

"So, have you given any thought to what we might want or need to ask this guy?"

"Me? No. Isn't that your job?" he called over his shoulder.

"Well, obviously. But as a fellow scientist or potions expert, I thought you might have an idea of how we might reach him. Maybe something that might help us seal the deal or get him to incriminate himself or better yet, confess."

He stopped and Harry almost ran into him. "Let me think about it." And he was off again.

When they got to the interrogation room, Drummond and Ron were already there working on strategy. Drummond looked at Draco. "Any suggestions?"

He'd apparently thought quickly along the way. He nodded. "Given that he'd been homeschooled, encouraged by his father, unable to accept criticism or direction, I'd say the best way to catch him off guard would be to compliment his work. Tell him you've never seen anything like it. The potions were like works of art. That he stumped a lot of really smart people."

"I can work with that."

"Homeless guy is on his way," Ron said.

"Here's hoping he IDs him so we can get a warrant," Harry said.

Ron turned to Draco. "Any details only he might know about his potion? Something that might trick him into admitting something?"

Draco held up his notes. "I can feed you that when needed. Meanwhile, I'll see if there's something specific you could work with."

In the end, a confession wasn't needed, which was good because not only was he outstanding at potions, but he was very good at keeping his mouth shut.

The homeless man came in and positively identified him. Said he'd know it was him "even without the tick." The tick was a slight twitch beneath his left eye. They got their warrant, searched the flat, and found a warded lab inside a magically enlarged cupboard. Inside there was a new batch being brewed, plus a supply of the same drug – precise chemical composition to the latest one – already packaged for distribution.

With courts being closed for the holidays, and their culprit locked up for the foreseeable future – not only had he been in possession of illicit drugs, but he'd also endangered neighbours with his unsecured laboratory setup. Risking health and well-being of the public as well as defying the Statute of Secrecy were enough to keep him under lock and key until the courts reopened in January. That meant court filings could be drafted now, and follow-up work could be completed in the new year.

Draco was currently analysing the new batch to see what further changes he'd made to the formula. Once he completed that, he'd be pretty much done his work with the Ministry. Harry didn't know how to feel about that. He hadn't known what to expect when he'd hired him on, but everyone had worked well with him. The lab folks loved him, Drummond had been impressed by his work, and even Ron managed to work well with him when push had come to shove. And they'd caught the guy. They'd worked as a team and got the job done.

More than that, Harry had grown used to having him around. And it seemed that twenty years, marriage, children, and divergent life paths hadn't dampened his feelings for the man.

So now what? There was still the party next week, but who knew how that would go, or if they'd even get a chance to talk privately. And the hearing, where Draco would be called to testify. But what then? Did they go back to living their separate lives, seeing each other in passing at King's Cross or occasionally when out shopping? He thought about the past few weeks and decided that he didn't want that. He'd felt a connection and thought – hoped – his feelings might be reciprocated, but he didn't know for sure.

And who knew what Draco wanted?

A loud knock interrupted his thoughts. "Hey, boss!" Drummond called from his door. "We're all going out to celebrate. Pub down the street. You in?"

Harry saw a crowd gathered behind him, aurors and lab techs and, in the background, a familiar blond head.

He smiled. "Definitely!"

"Draco, may I have a word?" Harry said, pulling him away from the fawning lab techs as they walked to the pub.

"C'mon, Harry, give the guy a break. He's worked enough already. We all have."

"Yeah, yeah," Harry agreed. "Just a couple of minutes."

Susan, one of the lab techs Harry had torn Draco away from, shrieked. "Oh, my god! They're soooo cute!" She was pointing at a shop window where two puppies – one black, one white – sat on the window ledge next to a wreath and watched them pass, tails wagging.

"They are cute," Draco said. Harry stared at him for a moment, then laughed. "What?"

"I was just thinking how surreal all of this is. Had you told fourteen-year-old me that I'd hear Draco Malfoy, of all people, saying the phrase, "they are cute" …

Draco shoved his shoulder into Harry. "Shut up."

Harry grinned. "Anyway, I wanted to let you know that Gin and I have finalised our schedule. The kids will be back home Monday night. We'll have the party on Tuesday – come over anytime after six – and they're with me from the 26th to the 30th, so Albus can visit sometime in that window. Does that work?"

"Sure. Have you heard from Andromeda yet?"

"Nothing yet, have you?"

"No," Draco said. "But we usually go on the 26th or 27th."

"Same. Maybe we say the 28th to 30th tentatively, and finalise once we both hear from Andromeda?"

"That works." Draco smiled. "Scorpius is really looking forward to it. Our place is always so quiet."

"So is Al. For the opposite reason."

"Okay, you two, enough work!" Drummond said as he held the pub door open and motioned them inside. "We've got tomorrow for that. Tonight, we celebrate."

Harry picked up the first round and once everyone had a drink, Drummond lifted his glass. "To Draco, for cracking the case wide open!"

Everyone, except a certain red-headed auror, could be heard replying, "To Draco!"

As conversation moved from cookie exchanges to ice skating, and the possibility of a white Christmas, Harry took advantage of the opportunity to enjoy Draco's company. He didn't notice his best friend fuming from across the table.
 
 
 
Sesheta
Title: Second Chance – Chapter Twenty-One
Author: BERJAYAsesheta_66 || AO3: sesheta_66
Prompts used: BERJAYAslythindor100’s early bird prompt P—Pillar Candles on Decorative Holders (picture under the cut) and BERJAYAdracoharry100’s prompt 24: Midnight Mass
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 2.7K (this part)
Rating: R (eventually; this part PG)
Warning: none
Summary: This is the second Christmas for Draco without Astoria and Harry's first since Ginny remarried. Will best friends Scorpius and Albus be just what they need to rekindle something they'd thought fleeting and lost forever?
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: Written for the BERJAYAslythindor100 Early Bird 25 Days of Draco and Harry and the BERJAYAdracoharry100 Christmas Challenge.

On LJ: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21

OR on AO3

[Chapter 21]

BERJAYA

Second Chance – Chapter 21


"I think I have an antidote."

Harry's heart leapt. "What?"

Draco approached his desk, hands raised. "Look, I know you said your priority was finding the guy making this poison, but once I managed to isolate all the ingredients, the next logical step was to figure out the one to transform them."

"Golpalott's Third Law, yes."

Draco's jaw dropped. "You know … ?"

"I may not have done well in Snape's classes but I did pick up a thing or two. Go on."

Draco blinked as though not quite able to accept this news. "Anyway, I've been doing this on my own time. I won't bill the Ministry for it. I know it wasn't what I was hired to do, but once the lab was up to speed and working on narrowing down the cases, I put in a few hours here and there at home trying to work it out."

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

Draco's face reddened and he looked angry. "I would have thought you'd want to save–"

Harry jumped out from behind his desk and threw his arms around Draco. "This is fantastic!" He released Draco, holding him at arm's length. Draco's smile lit up his face. "Get to Mungo's and see what they can do with this. I'll tell Ron and Drummond. Maybe we can save that little girl."

"Right."

"Oh, and Draco?"

"Hmm?"

"Great job."

Harry updated the team (all of whom were still working) and the lab (most of whom were also still at work) that Draco was en route to Mungo's to see if they could administer the antidote to the little girl. While potions tended to need extensive testing before approval for use on witches or wizards, they would likely administer one in cases of emergency with the parents' approval.

Buoyed by this news, Harry ordered in dinner for both teams and they doubled down on their efforts and continued working until nearly nine. By then everyone was seeing double and decided to call it a day and get back to it in the morning, despite it being the weekend. The aurors had tracked down the buyers that the seller had eventually given up. Two of them were dead ends, but one might have been sent by the guy they were looking for. He'd given them another name, which led to another, and they continued to track that last one down. His name didn't register – he was a homeless guy that the locals said moved around between shelters and parks in the city – so he wasn't the mastermind. Their best hope was that he was the final link.

It wasn't until Monday that Drummond heard back from the patent office. He passed along the details to Draco, to see if any looked like they could have been developed by this guy and he continued to go through the nearly forty possibilities.

Mungo's had indeed been given permission by the mother of one of the earlier cases, the one in the worst condition, to administer Draco's potion. He'd come round just that morning and was looking to be on the mend. They were running tests on him to be sure he had no adverse reactions before administering to the other children, front of the line being the little girl. Meanwhile, the labs at the Ministry and St Mungo's were producing the antidote as quickly as they could, so that it would be ready whenever they got the all clear.

By some miracle, no one had died from this round – at least not that they'd heard – but another dozen had been brought in. One of the healers had hypothesised that perhaps the added ingredient, by accelerating the effects ended up blowing through the active ingredient or ingredients that had overwhelmed the earlier victims. Either that or something in the chemical makeup had buffered the worst of the effects. They were going to continue researching both possibilities once all the cases were cleared. But for now, the focus had to be on treating the current patients.

The Muggle cases they'd looked into hadn't amounted to anything. While the symptoms and conditions had appeared similar, that's where any potential connection had ended. Their best hopes rested with the former potions students and patents angles.

On Tuesday, Drummond heard back from a potions master in Oxfordshire who'd been out of the country visiting family. When he'd heard what had been going on, he said that yes, in fact, he'd had a student that would be capable of producing a product of the calibre they were describing. He'd been the most gifted potioneer the man had ever seen.

Unfortunately, he'd had to let the boy go a year into his training, because he'd caught him producing his own potions in the lab. The man had strict rules around that sort of thing, and had made that clear when he'd hired him. The boy had left in a rage and months later an "accident" had nearly destroyed the man's lab. He hadn't reported it to authorities at the time because he'd been able to save the lab, thanks to the extensive security precautions he'd had in place. And he couldn't be sure that it was his former apprentice who had done it – he had no proof – and didn't want to accuse him without some sort of evidence. That had been about five years ago.

Drummond passed along the apprentice's name to Draco, and he found two patent applications authored by him near the bottom of the pile, which he would review right away.

Draco, Drummond and Ron knocked on Harry's door late that afternoon. "This could be the guy," Draco said. "I can't be sure without seeing the potions themselves, but based on the descriptions and methodology noted here, it's sophisticated work."

"Were the applications approved?" Harry asked. "Are the potions on the market now?"

Draco shook his head. "No, they rejected both for lack of sufficient details to replicate. It seems our boy here didn't want to give away his secrets, even if it meant being unable to get patents to sell the fruits of his labour."

"But there's enough information for you?"

"No. But there's enough here for me to conclude that both were developed by a highly skilled person. That's the best I can do without seeing the potions directly and analysing them."

"But we're much further ahead now than we were a week ago," Drummond said.

"Do we have a current residence for this guy?"

"No, but he grew up in Wales and was homeschooled until he decided to pursue an apprenticeship in potions. He spent a year at Hogwarts to prepare for his exams. I have a meeting with Professor Slughorn after classes today, to see if I can get a better measure of him. Meanwhile, he's since had three flats here in London and we've got the team out canvassing the neighbours, discretely, both in London and back in his home town."

"Great work, everyone." Harry looked at their exhausted faces. "We're closing in. We're gonna get this guy."

"Let's bloody hope so," Ron said.

"Amen to that," Draco agreed.

They regrouped after Drummond returned from Hogwarts. "Slughorn said he was almost unnaturally talented at potions, like he had a second sense about how they functioned. Said he could visualise the connections like they danced colourfully before him in mid-air. But he was undisciplined, possibly due to his homeschooling. Slughorn only met the boy's father once, but he seemed like a bit of a wild card, unimpressed that his son would have to attend formal school even for one year in order to prepare for exams. He'd only relented when he'd been told that no potions master would take him under their wing unless he'd passed his potions NEWT. Slughorn said he'd tried to caution the boy to at least feign an interest in complying with established protocols, but he was not particularly interested. Even still, he did give a recommendation for him to apprentice, based on his skills."

"Did he have any problems at Hogwarts?" Ron asked. "Any trouble with the other students?"

"The usual that might come from attending a school only in the final year: not included in established groups, seemed to keep to himself. Might have had a couple of run-ins with other students, but nothing that was ever brought to Slughorn's attention. He also didn't attend other classes, just potions, so he didn't get to know too many people. And he wasn't assigned a house, but rather stayed in guest quarters at the castle."

"Sounds like the perfect set-up for other students to see him as either someone to be preyed upon or jealous of," Draco said.

"Have experience with that, do you Malfoy?"

"Shut it, Ron," Harry said.

"No, it's okay, Potter. Yes, I do. You may not have experienced this in Gryffindor, but in Slytherin we were taught to look for weakness in others, or opportunities to gain from associations. I imagine that hasn't changed. Someone like that – no friends, no house affiliation – would be viewed as weak, or at least easily targetted, if they didn't have any support. Alternatively, if he didn't have to share living quarters with anyone, he could be viewed as being favoured by the administration. Someone to be jealous of. That would also have made him a target."

"Good points," Harry said, cutting off any rebuttal Ron might have chimed in with and turning his attention to Drummond. "Maybe you could follow up with McGonagall in the morning. She might have seen some things Slughorn didn't, particularly if he wasn't placed in a house. She'd have seen the bigger picture, I think."

They signed off for the day, but Harry asked Ron to stay back. When the others had left, Harry closed his door. "He's been a huge help on this case. You aren't helping matters reacting like you just did."

"Sorry, mate. Force of habit. Just sort of came out. And yeah," he conceded, "he has helped a lot."

"Glad you can acknowledge that. And it does seem you've been working together well."

"I wouldn't go that far, but yeah. We both want the same results, so we've done what we had to do." Harry nodded, pleased that they'd made progress. Then Ron grumbled under his breath, "But I don't have to like the git."

Harry sighed, knowing a lost cause when he saw one.

He'd thought about telling Ron about the party, but figured he might just leave it until the day. Better to deal with it head-on. Plus it wouldn't help anyone to hear Ron grumbling around the office for the next week. And Harry didn't feel much like giving him time to prepare a line of attack. He'd tell Hermione and leave it up to her and Rose to prepare him or not.

As Harry left for the day, he took a chance and swung by the lab. Sure enough, Draco was there. "Haven't you done enough for the day?" he asked.

Draco jumped. "Merlin's beard, Potter. Warn someone when you enter a room."

"It's not like I was being stealthy."

Draco went back to his task. "Yeah, well, Auror training. You're stealthy without even realising it."

"Am I?" Harry wasn't so sure about that, but he'd let it go.

"Like a ninja!" He didn't look up when he said it, but his lip twitched.

Harry laughed. He'd never been called a ninja before. "So, back to the matter at hand. My budget is going to run out of money if you keep working late."

Draco looked up finally. "I told you, I did the antidote work on my own time."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Oh, don't be an idiot, Draco. We all want this guy caught, but we also want the kids to get better. You'll be paid for your work."

"Not if I don't submit an invoice for it I won't."

Harry glared at the man, but couldn't be angry with him. He was helping to save kids' lives. "Fine. Then dinner's on me. Pack up your shit and get back to it tomorrow. You won't do anyone any good if you're over caffeinated and under nourished."

"Twice in one week? What will people say?"

"I don't give a damn what people say." Strangely enough, once the words were out, Harry realised that he meant them. He wondered what might have happened had he adopted that stance twenty years ago, but before he could dwell on that thought for too long, his stomach chose that moment to let out a cry. "Besides, I'm hungry, obviously, I don't want to cook, and it'll be easier to avoid random strangers coming up to me if someone's along for the ride."

Draco eyed him suspiciously but didn't argue with his logic. "Fine then. Use me as your shield. But I pick the place this time. No pub food tonight."

Harry sighed. He liked pub food. But he found he quite liked Draco's company too, so he'd go to a proper restaurant with the man.

Fortunately, Draco didn't pick the fanciest restaurant in town – something Harry wouldn't have put past him, particularly when it was Harry who was paying – but it was a nice Italian place, one Harry hadn't been to before. The tables were set tastefully, with candles set atop miniature wreaths. Festive but not overtly so. Classy but also not overtly so. It suited Draco. The place was warm, quiet, and perfect after a long day. Long week, actually.

Draco opened his menu. "So, what are your plans over Christmas?"

Harry closed his menu and put it down, having already decided what he wanted. "Let's see, party next week, dinner with Andromeda and Teddy whenever she decides on a date, Christmas Eve dinner at the Burrow, and then I don't know. Nothing else planned."

Draco put his menu down and scrutinised Harry. "You are going to your ex-wife's family Christmas dinner? How does that work?"

Harry sighed. "They're my family too. Have been since I was in school. Molly would hear nothing of it when I suggested they could celebrate without me." Draco's eyes bored into him, and if he didn't know better he'd swear the man was trying to read his thoughts. "She said that I was as good as her son, no matter what happened between me and her daughter. If Ginny had a problem with that, she could take it up with her, because there was no way in hell she was leaving me to have Christmas alone." Harry cleared his throat. "Or something along those lines."

"Wow." Draco picked up his menu again and they sat in silence while he decided what to have. As soon as he closed it and placed it on the table, the waitress came to take their order. Once she'd left, he resumed boring into Harry's brain. "So what did Ginevra say?"

Harry shrugged. "Nothing. She's fine with it. We get along well enough."

Draco leaned back, crossing his arms across his chest. "And how do you feel about it?"

"They're family, even if Ginny isn't anymore."

"Huh."

Uncomfortable with the scrutiny, Harry countered. "So what about you? What are your plans?"

"Similar to yours, actually. Apparently I'm attending a Christmas party with my son." He smirked at Harry. "Then Andromeda's whenever she decides, then Christmas Eve dinner at the Manor, after which we go to midnight mass and back to the Manor for the night. Christmas Day is lunch and afternoon at the Greengrasses. Sometime between Christmas and New Year I'll have dinner with Pansy and Blaise, and the rest is up in the air."

The waitress brought their wine, Draco pronounced it acceptable, and she left.

"And I believe we are to have a house guest for a few days, timing to be determined." He raised his glass and Harry clinked it with his own.

He savoured the wine for a moment before asking, "No New Year's plans?"

"I prefer to stay in and my friends tend to go out, so we have nothing planned so far. You?"

"My friends are Ginny's friends, and I get them for the Christmas party. She gets them and the kids for New Year's. So no plans yet."

Their meals arrived and plans for the holidays were forgotten as they enjoyed their meal.
 
 
 
Sesheta
Title: Second Chance – Chapter Twenty
Author: BERJAYAsesheta_66 || AO3: sesheta_66
Prompts used: BERJAYAslythindor100’s early bird prompt U—Christmas Tree Ornaments (picture under the cut) and BERJAYAdracoharry100’s prompt 30: Santa's elves
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 1.5K (this part)
Rating: R (eventually; this part PG)
Warning: none
Summary: This is the second Christmas for Draco without Astoria and Harry's first since Ginny remarried. Will best friends Scorpius and Albus be just what they need to rekindle something they'd thought fleeting and lost forever?
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: Written for the BERJAYAslythindor100 Early Bird 25 Days of Draco and Harry and the BERJAYAdracoharry100 Christmas Challenge.

On LJ: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20

OR on AO3

[Chapter 20]

BERJAYA

Second Chance – Chapter 20


Harry sat down with Skeeter and was giving her the updates he had that he was willing to make public at this time – in other words, giving her some filler without disclosing much – when he received an alert from Drummond. Another rave the night before; another three cases at Mungo's, one critical.

"Sorry, Rita, but I have to go."

Her eyes lit up and her quill hovered jauntily over the page. "Ooh, do tell! My readers will want to know."

There was no point remaining quiet. She'd find out about thirty seconds after Harry left. One quick call to Mungo's ought to do the trick. "There's been another incident. Three more taken to St Mungo's. I need to get there."

"But – who is it? Was it another rave? Where was it held?"

"That's all I have for you now," Harry said, putting on his coat. "I have to get back to work."

As he ran out the door, she shouted, "I expect a full update later!"

He arrived at Mungo's in short order, and got the update from one of the Healers. As she spoke, Harry looked around the youth unit, Christmas tree with its festive ornaments and Santa's elves mocking him. The one in critical condition was not doing well and had to be restrained and sedated for her own safety. She was only thirteen years old. Lily's age. The other two were stable with family keeping vigil. They were both fifteen.

Several others, Drummond informed him, had been badly tripping according to witnesses, but no word on their locations at present. The thirteen-year-old had gone out with her older brother who had told their parents that they were just going to a friend's house. From there, the friend had apparently suggested they go to the party. No word yet on how she came to ingest the drug.

"We've got people at the party location – abandoned, but running forensics – as well as the homes of those we know were in attendance."

"Keep me posted."

"Sir?" Drummond looked like a cross between someone ready to kill, ready to collapse or ready to throw up. "This one went bad fast. I think we're gonna see a lot more cases come in. We need to get word out to the public so they act quickly."

Harry nodded. "On it."

He didn't have to go far. As expected, Skeeter was outside the hospital when he exited. He made a bee-line for her. As much as it sickened him to see her excitement, he knew she would be the best way to get word out fast. "Rita, I have an update for you."

Her quill shivered in response. Even it was excited. Harry felt ill. "Do tell!"

"There was a rave last night, an abandoned warehouse just off Knockturn Alley. Several children – the youngest thirteen years old – have been brought into the hospital for treatment. We don't have all the details yet, but this case appears to have the potential to be worse than the previous ones. We need to get word out to the public that anyone who attended a party in that vicinity last night should seek medical attention immediately." He thought of the little girl inside fighting for her life. "There is a concern that the drug may have been administered without the victims' knowledge."

The pen flew across the page, and to Harry's relief did not seem to be embellishing his words. "Do you know who did this? Has anyone been arrested?"

"I'll give you more updates as I have them. But please, get word out as fast as you can. If anyone is experiencing anything out of the ordinary, and attended a party in the area, get to a Healer. And a special alert to parents: if your child went out last night without you, please talk to them now. Assess their condition and bring them to a Healer right away if they exhibit any unusual behaviour."

"Harry, can you comment on–"

"No." Harry pulled out his wand. "I need to get to the office now. I'll be in touch, and I suspect we'll have a press conference later today." With that, he Apparated to the Ministry.

The first place he went was to the lab. Ron was already there, deep in conversation with one of the techs. He nodded at Harry, looking sick, then went back to his conversation. All hands were present, frantically assessing the samples they'd collected. Draco looked like death warmed over, his hands shaking as he cast spell after spell. Harry approached him. "Anything?"

He looked up, surprised at seeing someone standing there. "What? Oh, yeah. This is bad, Potter."

"Tell me."

"Same manufacturer, no question. Signature and all. But he's upped his game. This stuff is nearly double the potency." Harry's blood boiled. "Those three cases you've got? They won't be the last. There will be more, and I'd wager they'll be coming in soon."

"Fuck."

"Couldn't have said it better myself. There's something else, too. A new ingredient, trace amount, but it might be the mistake we were hoping for."

"How so?"

"Well, not that he needed it, what with the potency already upped, but this particular ingredient acts as an accelerant when combined with some of the others, and is powerful in very small amounts. So the effects kick in faster and stronger."

"Fuck," Harry said again. "So how is this something we'd hope for?"

"Okay, bad choice of words. But this might be the key to catching this guy. The material is tough to come by, highly regulated. Even in Knockturn, you'd have a hell of a time getting your hands on it."

"Did you let anyone know?"

"You're the first. I just isolated it a minute ago and was about to tell Weasley when you walked in."

Harry nodded. "Great work, Draco. Give me the details and I'll pass it on."

"Go," he said. "I'll give him the update. You go talk to the Minister."

Harry nodded and left to do just that.

After briefing Kingsley, Harry arranged for a press conference for the afternoon and called a meeting of all department staff to bring them up to speed. Draco attended as well, providing the update from the lab. The hit wizards looked ready to take out the guy responsible and every auror looked ready to join them. Harry couldn't blame them; he wanted to do the same. With everyone up to date on the events, and bracing for an influx of inquiries and, sadly, more cases at Mungo's, Harry returned to his office to prepare for the presser.

A short time later, Ron, Drummond and Draco knocked. "We have news," Ron said.

"Good news, I hope."

"Progress anyway." Harry couldn't recall seeing Ron look this bad, ever. "Malfoy was right about that substance. Hard to come by, but after scouring Knockturn, we were able to come up with a supplier. They're bringing him in. We're going to interrogate him now, if you're interested."

Harry wanted to. Badly. But he needed to prepare. "No, you can handle it. I have to get ready for this presser. Just let me know how it goes."

Ron nodded. "Will do."

"You might want to bring Draco in with you." He looked at Draco. "If you're comfortable with that."

Draco looked apprehensive but nodded. Ron turned to him. "I thought you could observe from the next room, feed us details if there's anything we should ask. That way you won't have to go in."

Draco looked relieved at that. "Good idea," Harry agreed. "Everyone good?"

"Fucking fantastic," Drummond said sarcastically. "Thirteen! What's next? Ten-year-olds?"

The rest of the day went about as Harry had expected. The press conference was a nightmare. Eight more cases were brought to Mungo's with another fifteen deemed lucid enough to remain under home observation, with strict instructions to bring them to the hospital if their conditions worsened. No deaths so far, though, despite the drug's upped potency, so there was that. No change in the thirteen-year-old's condition.

At about seven o'clock that evening, Draco knocked on his door looking better than he had in days.

"I think I have an antidote."
 
 
 
Sesheta
Title: Second Chance – Chapter Nineteen
Author: BERJAYAsesheta_66 || AO3: sesheta_66
Prompts used: BERJAYAslythindor100’s early bird prompt X—Sun in a Cloudy Sky (picture under the cut) and BERJAYAdracoharry100’s prompt 3: Snowed in
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 1.5K (this part)
Rating: R (eventually; this part PG)
Warning: none
Summary: This is the second Christmas for Draco without Astoria and Harry's first since Ginny remarried. Will best friends Scorpius and Albus be just what they need to rekindle something they'd thought fleeting and lost forever?
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: Written for the BERJAYAslythindor100 Early Bird 25 Days of Draco and Harry and the BERJAYAdracoharry100 Christmas Challenge.

On LJ: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19

OR on AO3

[Chapter 19]

BERJAYA

Second Chance – Chapter 19


Harry called Ron and Drummond into his office Monday to brief them on Draco's progress. He summarised Draco's findings and thoughts on the skill level of the potioneer. "You received his notes, yeah?" he asked Drummond.

"I did, and I've spoken with the lab. They're working on pulling samples from evidence for other drug-related cases to begin short-listing them."

"Good. Once they do that, he'll go through those and look for a signature – ideally the same one – or other commonalities in the potion formulations. If he's able to further narrow the field, you can pull the case files and look for any overlaps. Bring in anyone that bought the drugs to see if they can lead us somewhere."

"I'll see if there are similar locations, customers, ingredients," Drummond said.

"And map out a timeline if you can," Ron added.

"Will do." He stood up to leave, looking lighter than he had in days. "Finally, we're getting somewhere. Guess Mungo's was right about Malfoy."

Harry agreed. "Let's hope we catch this guy and soon."

Ron said nothing but followed Drummond out.

The week passed in a flurry of activity. Staff in the lab worked extra hours going through the samples, and following Draco's instructions, were able to eliminate most from contention – too raw, lacking the finesse Draco had talked about – and the ones remaining Draco analysed, at the same time showing the lab techs how he was going about it. More than one of them expressed how cool it was – their words, not Harry's – to watch him work.

Meanwhile, Drummond reviewed the case files as they were shortlisted, created a timeline and cross-referenced details of the cases, so he'd be ready to go once Draco narrowed the cases down even further. He'd also canvassed the schools and reached out to potions masters across the country that take on apprentices and was awaiting responses.

On the home front, he and Ginny had worked out their schedule for Christmas and he'd been able to settle on a date for their annual party. Deciding that one day spent with Ginny – Christmas dinner at the Burrow – would be plenty for him, he would not be extending an invitation to her. They got along well and still agreed on pretty much everything to do with the kids, and Pedro was a decent enough guy, but Harry didn't actively seek out opportunities to spend time with his ex-wife, and certainly not her new husband. He may get to a point, down the road, when that wouldn't feel weird, but he wasn't there yet.

He'd put off an interview with Skeeter for as long as he could without her simply going ahead with a hit piece that she made up out of whole cloth, so he would be having coffee with her the next day. At least he could tell her they were making progress, though not much else. Maybe something would break today and he could make an announcement without having to meet her. Doubtful, but hope springs eternal.

The last department heads' meeting of the year was this afternoon, and he was busy preparing for that when a knock came on his door. He looked up to see Draco. "Got a minute?"

"About that long, maybe two minutes tops. What's up?"

"I can come back later."

"Later I won't have even a minute, so it's now or never." He waved him in. "What can I do for you?"

He took a seat and Harry noticed the dark circles under his eyes. It seems Harry wasn't the only one working himself to the bone this week. He ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated. "I haven't been able to isolate a signature on any of the potions I've analysed so far, but there are still a fair number to go."

"Well, I know we'd been hoping for a quick slam dunk on this one, but at least we're moving forward."

"So I was thinking, what if the person tried to make a legal go of things and tried to register a patent. He might have been granted one, or possibly got rejected and then went the illegal route. If we looked at say the past five, maybe ten years of applications, we might find something that jumps out."

"Did you tell Drummond?"

"He's already doing so much, working the different angles, I thought I should check with you first. Don't want to put more on his plate if you don't think it's worth looking into."

Harry smiled. "Everything is worth looking into, and this is a great angle. Go ahead and let him know. If he needs help, he can pull in one of the junior aurors to work with him, or Ron can assign someone to help him out."

"Will do."

"Speaking of full plates, are you trying to get me in trouble with your son and your mother?"

"What?"

"You look like you haven't slept for days."

"Gee, thanks." He narrowed his eyes at Harry. "You look like hell too."

Harry laughed. "Thanks for noticing. It's been a week, that's for sure."

"We're going to get this guy," Draco said.

"Or die trying," Harry agreed.

"Speaking of my son, I haven't had a chance to talk to you since going to Hogsmeade."

Harry sat up. "Right. How did it go? Did he try to ambush you?"

"Not exactly, no."

"He didn't ask you about the party?"

"Oh, no, he definitely did. But I'm not sure it was an ambush. More like an attempt to pull at my heartstrings followed by a genuine request."

Harry wondered if Draco had been hoodwinked, but kept that to himself. "Do tell."

"He did as expected, and mentioned that the other parents would be there, but then suggested that you might want someone new there – someone that didn't remind you of your ex-wife."

Harry frowned. "What?" That was an angle he hadn't anticipated. And where the hell had that come from?

"Mm hmm. I wasn't sure if that was true – if Albus really thought you might feel that way – or if it was just a ploy, but there you have it. Anyway, I did mention Weasley and he said the same thing Albus told you – that mother and daughter would make him 'be nice' – and ended with the option to leave if it got weird."

Harry couldn't tell if Draco had agreed or not. And if he had agreed, was it because of what Al had said? And was there any truth to it? He'd have to ponder that later, after a decent night's sleep. And maybe a firewhisky or three. "And what did you say?"

"I asked him if he wanted me to go, and he brushed me off. But I got the sense that he did, so I said I would bring him and see how it goes. He seemed to brighten at that, so I think it was the right call. Even if I have been manipulated by my progeny."

Harry grinned. Despite knowing that Ron would likely be pissed, Harry found himself not caring. He was glad Draco was going to join them. "Glad to hear it."

Several mind-numbing hours later, Harry packed up his desk and headed out. The lift door opened and Draco was inside, looking, if possible, even more tired than he had earlier in the day. Harry supposed he looked the same. "What the hell are you still doing here at nearly eight o'clock?"

Draco leaned his head back and let out a sigh. "I could ask you the same."

"Ugh. Department head meeting. About ten minutes would have sufficed, for all that was accomplished, but Percy Weasley managed to stretch it out for hours. Last meeting of the year, don't you know. Must make it count! God, that man could write a how-to guide on making useless meetings last an eternity."

Draco chuckled. "And people wonder why I never wanted to work here."

Harry gave him a sidelong glance. "And yet here you are."

"Ah, but I don't work for the Ministry. I can leave whenever I want."

Harry snorted and looked pointedly at his watch. "Which, apparently, is eight o'clock at night."

"Shut up."

They got off the elevator and stepped outside. Fresh snow blanketed the street and Harry remembered another snow-covered scene long ago. They'd been snowed in, and he and Draco had taken a walk through the trees on that hazy day, the promise of their future as bright as the sun shining through the clouds.

Harry took a deep breath of the crisp air and let it out slowly. "Have you eaten?"

Draco seemed to consider this for a moment. "If about six cups of coffee and a rock-hard biscuit from the cafeteria count, yes I have."

"Care to join me? I'm too knackered to cook, so I was going to grab a quick bite at the pub before heading home."

Looking ready to fall over, Draco said, "You're paying?"

Harry chuckled. "Sure, why not?"

He gave Harry a lazy smile that brought him back about twenty years. "Then yes."
 
 
Sesheta
Title: Second Chance – Chapter Eighteen
Author: BERJAYAsesheta_66 || AO3: sesheta_66
Prompts used: BERJAYAslythindor100’s early bird prompt T—Christmas Tree in Crystal Ball (picture under the cut) and BERJAYAdracoharry100’s prompt 26: Caroling
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 2.5K (this part)
Rating: R (eventually; this part PG)
Warning: none
Summary: This is the second Christmas for Draco without Astoria and Harry's first since Ginny remarried. Will best friends Scorpius and Albus be just what they need to rekindle something they'd thought fleeting and lost forever?
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: Written for the BERJAYAslythindor100 Early Bird 25 Days of Draco and Harry and the BERJAYAdracoharry100 Christmas Challenge.

On LJ: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18

OR on AO3

[Chapter 18]

BERJAYA

Second Chance – Chapter 18


Draco woke without his customary sense of anticipation about going to Hogwarts. He usually looked forward to the day there, but his thoughts had been full of Potter and the Christmas party that Scorpius was about to throw at him. Why the boys had come up with such an idea was beyond him. Scorpius must think he had no life whatsoever. Which, in fairness, wasn't far from the truth. But he did have friends. He didn't see them often, true, but still. He didn't need to make nice with a bunch of Gryffindors that hated him. Not exactly his idea of fun.

Potter had confirmed as much. Perhaps they didn't all hate him, but his best friend / brother-in-law certainly did. They'd been on the same page, he and Potter, however irritating Draco had found reliving the choice Potter had made back in first year. They both knew it would be uncomfortable at best. But then Potter had gone and told him he was welcome to attend, and a part of Draco – however small – had wanted to say yes, Weasley be damned.

So now he needed to get through a day of lecturing and fielding student questions, knowing that supper was going to be spent talking about Potter again. Why the hell was it always Potter?

He could do this. He genuinely enjoyed teaching. Not so much that he'd give up his career, but he did get joy out of passing on his knowledge, and seeing the thirst for it in students' eyes.

When McGonagall had first invited him to teach occasional classes at Hogwarts, he'd been hesitant. He hadn't returned since the battle, and wasn't sure how he'd feel going back. His memories of sixth and seventh years weighed heavily on him, and he didn't know if he could face what he'd done.

She'd known what he'd been thinking, and had been patient, yet firm. "I understand your hesitation, Mr Malfoy, but one must face one's demons before one can move forward. Why don't you come to my office, have a cup of tea, and we can discuss?"

He'd reluctantly agreed, not sure what to expect. He'd never been outright rude to her, whatever he'd said in the privacy of the Slytherin common room about the head of Gryffindor, but he hadn't shown her what he would consider the level of respect befitting a professor. And now she was offering him the chance to … what? Clear his conscience? Make amends? Move on with his life? He had no idea, but after all that had happened during the Dark Lord's reign, he thought he ought to stop hiding from his past, and face it head-on. So he'd agreed.

Much to his dismay, when he'd entered the headmistress' office, he'd come face to face with Dumbledore. His former headmaster's portrait hung directly behind McGonagall's desk, so there had been no way to avoid looking at it. He'd nearly bolted, right then and there.

But then Dumbledore had greeted him. "Good to see you, Mr Malfoy." Draco had thought that unlikely. "I understand that you have moved on from the … unfortunate circumstances of your last couple of years here at Hogwarts and have made quite a name for yourself. I'm glad to hear it."

Unfortunate circumstances? That was understating things a bit. "I–" Draco hadn't expected this, though he supposed he should have. "Hello, sir."

Dumbledore looked over his half-moon spectacles and smiled. "Professor McGonagall tells me that she has offered you the opportunity to teach here occasionally. I do hope you will consider it."

Thoughts had raced around in Draco's head. Images of the Room of Hidden Things and that damn cabinet, hearing about Katie Bell and the weasel stumbling across his pathetic attempts at getting to this man, trying to kill him. Then letting in Death Eaters, facing and disarming the Headmaster, him so weak and fragile that Draco could have killed him with barely any effort. This man, knowing full well what Draco had done, had caused to happen, offering him and his family safety, a way out. And Snape stepping up to do the job Draco had been tasked with. Watching his Headmaster plummet to his death.

He'd cleared his throat then. "Thank you, sir. And you, Professor McGonagall." He took a deep breath and said what he'd been up half the night composing in his mind. "I appreciate the opportunity, but before I could even consider it, I feel that I must apologise to you both."

"I received your letter after the war," McGonagall said. Draco had sent many letters after the war, after his trial. He'd been given another chance at life and he'd wanted to begin on the right foot. He and his mother both. They'd never told Lucius, but then why would they have? The first letter for both of them had been to Potter. Of course it had. But then he'd found he had to reach out to many others, including McGonagall. Never sure what to expect in response – he'd received a mix of responses, good and bad, and many more non-responses. McGonagall had accepted his apology and had wished him the best moving forward, now that he was free from the pressures that had led him down that dark road.

"Yes, and I received your reply. But I never spoke to you in person before today. Had our paths crossed before now, I like to think I would have apologised to you directly, but at the time I couldn't face returning here. To be honest, I hesitated even now." Both professors nodded but said nothing. He ploughed on. "I may have been a minor during most of the circumstances to which you refer, and I had been acting under duress, which I'm sure you know, but you offered me a way out, sir, even after knowing everything I'd done, and I didn’t take it. I should have."

"This is true, but I understand why you didn't," Dumbledore said. "Ideally, you would have come to me at the outset, but your father … well, let's just say that I imagine Lucius was rather a key factor in your decision making." Draco was struck again at the understanding afforded him by this man whom he'd disrespected from the day he'd arrived at the school. "And things happened rather quickly that day, so ..."

Once more, he saw Dumbledore topple over the edge of the tower. "I hope you know that I do regret so much of what happened, particularly my own actions, but also those of my family."

"Come now, Draco, you can't be expected to pay for your family's deeds."

"I know, but still. I don't expect forgiveness, but I do hope to work towards earning it nonetheless."

Dumbledore nodded. "I think that's all we can expect. As you say, you were a minor at the time, and under great pressure even after you had come of age. And we were assured by Mr Potter that you did help him in the end, you and your mother."

He didn't argue Potter's points at the time. Didn't speak up at the trials. He was facing life in prison, after all. But he couldn't pretend to these two. "I think Potter may have overstated our involvement."

"Perhaps," McGonagall said. "But he did what he felt was right and recognised that you had already suffered at the hands of Voldemort, so …" Once again, Draco had thought how Potter had changed the course of his life. In school, he'd been a thorn in Draco's side, but as an adult, his impact had been far more positive. And now here Draco was – sitting with two professors who had been instrumental in helping to shape Potter's life – being offered a job. Even years after they'd parted ways, he was still having a positive impact on Draco.

"Enough said on that matter, I think?" Dumbledore looked at McGonagall before returning his gaze to Draco. "I understand you are now married and have a son of your own?"

Draco smiled, relieved to switch to a subject he could talk about endlessly. "Yes, Scorpius. He's nine now, and Astoria and I are looking forward to receiving his Hogwarts letter in a couple of years."

McGonagall smiled. "He's on the list." Draco was relieved to hear it. Though he'd been nearly certain Scorpius would attend Hogwarts – generations of Malfoys had done before him, since William the Conqueror's days – he'd had doubts in the back of his mind. Sins of the father and all that.

McGonagall waved her wand and a tea service appeared. "So, shall we have that cup of tea now?"

They'd had that cup of tea then, along with some biscuits, and McGonagall had asked him about his time abroad, where he'd worked, what he liked most about his career. Dumbledore had closed his eyes and apparently gone to sleep, though Draco suspected he was listening to every word.

After tea, McGonagall had taken him on a tour of the castle – most things looked the same as when he'd attended – they'd done a remarkable job of repairing the damage caused by the battle – though they'd added a memorial on the grounds to those who'd lost their lives. When he'd looked at it, he'd been shocked to find the names of those close to him, from both sides, including Snape, his crazy Aunt Bella, and Crabbe. He'd needed a few minutes to collect himself afterwards and McGonagall had been gracious enough to give him some space and time to do so.

Draco shook off the memories. That had been years ago now. Why he was reliving that again today was beyond him. He wasn't sure if his subconscious was reminding him of all the horrible things he'd done, justifying the weasel's feelings about him, or telling him to go to the party and face his past head on like he'd done at Hogwarts.


After the lectures, Draco left his contact information with several students who were interested in pursuing further study in potions after leaving Hogwarts, two of whom he would keep an eye on as potential apprentices. Having a half hour before he was due to meet Scorpius, he walked the grounds and visited the memorial once more. Willing his mentor to posthumously guide him but receiving no response, he was left with nothing but his own scattered thoughts.

He met Scorpius in the Great Hall and they walked the familiar path into Hogsmeade.

"Where did you want to eat?" Draco asked, knowing full well what the answer would be.

"Three Broomsticks?" As expected. "Would you mind if we make a quick stop before we go for supper?"

"I don't mind at all. Where were you thinking?"

"We just had a Hogsmeade weekend and I saw something that I think Grandmother would like."

Draco smiled. "Sure, let's go see it."

When they arrived at Dervish and Banges, Scorpius led Draco to a display case, in which rested a crystal ball with a Christmas tree inside, complete with lights and a streetscape. "May we see this, please?" Scorpius asked the attendant.

"Certainly." She removed it from the case and handed it to Scorpius. "It's fragile, so be careful."

He held it up for Draco, took out his wand and whispered, "Nox," and all the lights went out. Then he said, "Lumos," and they all lit up again. He grinned triumphantly. "Do you think she'll like it?"

"I think she will love it." Draco paid for the gift, had the attendant gift wrap it and said he'd bring it home for safekeeping.

That done, they made their way to the pub. Once they'd ordered their meals, Scorpius said, "Albus' dad said he can come stay with us, but his parents need to figure out their schedule first."

"That sounds good. Have you given any thought to what you might want to do when he comes over?"

He shrugged. "Not really. I think he'd probably be happy to just hang around the house. Whenever he comes back after break, he talks about how busy everything is at home. Too many people around all the time."

Draco laughed. "Fair enough."

"Um …" Draco looked at his son and waited for him to continue. "So Albus said they have a Christmas party every year, and he asked if I could go."

Draco gave no indication that he already knew this. "Did you want to go?"

"Definitely!"

"Alright, then. When is it?"

"They don't know yet. They have to work out–"

"Work out the schedule?"

"Mm hmm. It's kinda weird now, with his parents divorced. And his mum remarried."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, Al's sister's pretty upset about it. She thought their parents would get back together."

"Did she now?"

"Yeah, but that's not going to happen now, is it?"

"No, I would imagine not."

"So Mr Potter said that you should come to the party too."

Fortunately, Potter had given him a head's up, or he might have burst out laughing at that statement. "Did he now?"

"Well, Al said that everyone's parents come, and it would just make sense for you to stay too. I think Al figures his dad might welcome someone new. Someone who, you know, doesn't remind him of Al's mum."

Draco considered this and wondered how much truth was in that, or if it was simply the boys' way of convincing him to go. It was plausible, given Potter had married into the Weasley family. And since they'd started dating back in school, they probably had many of the same friends from those days. He tried to imagine remaining civil, never mind friendly, with Astoria's family had they ever divorced. He'd have been wary of every drink they handed him. Nevertheless, he doubted Potter would have chosen Draco to be the one to not remind him of his ex-wife.

"Do you want me there?"

He shrugged. "If you want to go."

"You do realise that a party at the Potter house will probably include Albus' Uncle Ron too, right? I don't think he'd be too pleased if I were to go."

"I know. But Al says that Rose can get her dad to be nice. And Rose's mum can too."

He doubted very much that anyone could make the weasel play nice. "And you think that will work?"

"Well, if you bring me there and it gets all weird, you can leave and just pick me up later. If that's okay with you." He looked hopefully at Draco.

He hadn't made up his mind until now, but that look had done the trick. "I suppose I could do that, see how it goes." He would go to the party, wish everyone a Merry Christmas, and decide then if he would stay.

"Really?" Scorpius looked relieved, almost like he'd been a bit nervous about going on his own.

Draco smiled at his son, wondering if there was anything he wouldn't do for him. "Really."

When they left the pub and headed back towards the castle, they passed a crowd of people carolling. Draco nudged him and motioned towards the carollers. "Care to join them?"

He looked horrified. "Hell no," said Scorpius, as Draco knew he would. Thank Merlin for that.
 
 
 
Sesheta
Title: Second Chance – Chapter Seventeen
Author: BERJAYAsesheta_66 || AO3: sesheta_66
Prompts used: BERJAYAslythindor100’s early bird prompt O – Collection of Gifts Wrapped in Brown Paper (picture under the cut) and BERJAYAdracoharry100’s prompt 9: Christmas Tree Topper
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 1.8K (this part)
Rating: R (eventually; this part PG)
Warning: none
Summary: This is the second Christmas for Draco without Astoria and Harry's first since Ginny remarried. Will best friends Scorpius and Albus be just what they need to rekindle something they'd thought fleeting and lost forever?
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: Written for the BERJAYAslythindor100 Early Bird 25 Days of Draco and Harry and the BERJAYAdracoharry100 Christmas Challenge.

On LJ: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17

OR on AO3

[Chapter 17]

BERJAYA

Second Chance – Chapter 17


Harry spent the balance of Saturday recovering from shopping. He and Albus had accomplished what they'd set out to do, but not without the mayhem of pre-Christmas December crowds. He was nearly done with his gift shopping, and he'd managed to pick up a few more decorations, including a new tree topper that Al had convinced him to buy for the big pine in the backyard. He'd got home, put his parcels in the front room, and collapsed on the sofa. It had been an up-and-down week, and he'd had more than his fill of human interaction, so he opted to have a cup of tea and watch mindless television.

Sunday morning arrived and he decided to get a head start on wrapping, even if he didn't have a tree up yet. He was nearly done when his Floo lit up and Draco's face appeared. "Potter! Oh, good, you're up."

Given his fame and the utter lack of appreciation the general public had for his privacy, Harry had restricted access to his Floo immediately upon returning to live at Grimmauld Place after the war. Even after his fame had died down, being an Auror meant he'd kept the restrictions in place. He only now realised that that he'd never changed the access spell, and apparently Draco had remembered it. "It's past eleven o'clock, Draco, of course I'm up."

"Are you wrapping presents? Bit keen, aren't you?"

Harry pushed aside the gifts and said, "Wanted to get the kids' stuff wrapped while I had the time to do it. You can come through." Draco did so, and infuriatingly showed no signs of ash on his robes. Harry got up from his wrapping station setup on the floor and looked at Draco's robes more closely. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Come through the Floo without a spec of dust or ash on you."

He frowned at Harry. "Surely you know a good repelling charm for your clothing?"

Harry felt his cheeks warm. That seemed like a useful sort of spell to know. "Er … not my area of expertise, clothing spells."

Draco chuckled. "Some things never change, I suppose."

Harry narrowed his eyes. "And what does that mean?"

"Just … well, I recall in school you'd always had ill-fitting clothes, whenever you weren't wearing wizarding robes. Your Muggle attire was not the most flattering."

"Yeah, they were hand-me-downs from my large cousin."

"And yet you never shrank them to better fit your frame."

"Er …"

"Anyway, as much as I'd love to discuss fashion choices all day, I did have another reason for calling on a Sunday morning."

"Do tell."

"Remember I said I had a theory?" Harry nodded. "Well, it seems I was right."

Harry motioned towards the stairs. "Let me make us some tea and you can tell me all about this theory of yours."

They went down to the kitchen and as Harry went about making some tea, Draco explained.

"Potions masters often have a signature built into their custom potions. I do. It's generally a little non-essential element or combination of elements that can readily identify the maker. Like an artist signing his painting."

"So you think this person is signing his potions?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes. A signature in this case doesn't identify the person as such, but can be used to authenticate a potion. If someone were to steal one of my potions and try to pass it off as his own, I could identify it using my signature, because I bind it to the completed potion. Attempting to remove it will render the potion useless and will destroy any possibility of analysing it. People are always looking to capitalise on others' work, so it's something most accomplished potions masters do to protect their property."

Harry handed Draco his tea. "And you've found a signature in the sample?"

"Thanks." He took a sip. "I believe so. There are a number of ingredients bound together with a spell and based on their properties, have no discernable purpose for being there. They are also bound to the whole in the same way commonly used. None of the ingredients – separately or collectively – would enhance, amplify, complement or otherwise interact with the properties of the main ingredients. Likewise, they have no addictive properties. There's just no reason for them to be there. And the fact that they've been bound together suggests a signature."

Harry sipped his tea. "So now what?"

"Well, as I said before, this potion is rather elegant. It was not made by some amateur. Whoever created this is a well-trained and skilled potioneer. I would suggest that a product this clean and this well produced could only be created by one of a handful of experts in the country. The list of possible suspects should, theoretically, be very short. I think that if your team can approach schools and masters who have trained students, you may be able to get a short list."

"That's excellent, thanks. I'll pass that along to Drummond in the morning." Harry thought about this approach. Could it be as simple as that? "How likely is it that whoever is making this is a legitimate potion maker?"

Draco swirled the tea in his cup as he thought about that. "I think it's as likely as anything, I suppose. If someone were financially strained, they might consider a side source of unreported income. Or you could be dealing with someone who is skilled but undisciplined. They might have failed out of the program or withdrawn because of the exacting standards and copious regulations surrounding the industry."

"Okay, we can look into that angle as well."

"And of course they may not be British at all, so there's that."

"Right." He'd have to talk to Drummond about motive. If the culprit is this skilled in potions, surely he – or she – would have known of potential side effects. Which might mean that it wasn't an accident at all. "How likely is it that someone this skilled would know of potential side effects?"

Draco shrugged. "Hard to say. If they had never tested the formula on humans prior to releasing it, there'd be no way of knowing."

"So this could have been a test run? Experimenting with kids?"

"You're the Auror, not I. What this person was thinking, what motivated him I wouldn't know. But I could look through the other samples at the Ministry, see if the formulas are all the same, or if there were adjustments, even slight differences between batches. That might give a clearer picture."

"Thanks. That would be great. Meanwhile, we've got an angle to investigate."

"There's another angle you might want to pursue."

"Which is?"

"This potion is very well made."

"So you've said."

"Yes, so that suggests he's worked up to this. There might be previous drugs he created. If you've come across his previous work, he may have left a signature there too."

"So if we compare them, we might be able to link the cases." Harry would have Drummond pull evidence from previous illegal potions cases. "Would you be able to run those comparisons?"

"Sure. But I'd say you could have your lab do preliminary reviews to determine the complexity of the potions in order to shortlist them. That could speed things up."

"Will do."

"I'll send over my notes on the analyses I ran, so the team will have an idea of what to look for – the finesse I was talking about. It's likely the person's skills have evolved, but there would still be a high level of precision in anything made by someone so proficient."

"Great, that's helpful."

"As I mentioned to you the other day, I'll be at Hogwarts tomorrow, but I'll be home in the evening. If there's anything you need me to look at when I get home, just let me know and I can pick it up and sign for it."

Harry recalled what Al had said: Scorpius worries that his dad works too much. "I'm sure Tuesday will be fine. You've given us lots to work with in the meantime."

"Okay, but let me know if you change your mind." He finished his tea and stood up to leave.

"Hold on. Do you have a few more minutes?"

"Sure." He sat back down.

"I'm actually glad you dropped by. Not just because of the case."

"Well of course you are. I'm a delight."

Harry laughed. "Perhaps, but I wanted to talk to you about my lunch with Al."

"Oh, right. I'd completely forgotten." He waved his hand in the air. "Distracted. So, did he mention Scorpius' invitation?"

"He did. And I told him yes."

"Well that's good then."

"And then he asked if Scorpius could come to our Christmas party."

"You said yes, I presume?"

"Not exactly."

Draco stiffened in his seat. "Was there any particular reason?"

Harry leaned forward. "He asked if you and Scorpius could come." At Draco's puzzled expression, he said, "Apparently Scorpius is worried that you have been working too much. I didn't bother mentioning that I had just recently added to that work."

Draco rolled his eyes. "So ... what? Attending a party is the cure for my workaholic ways?"

Harry shrugged. "I got the feeling there might be more to it, but that's what Al told me."

"That's my mother talking, you know. She's enlisted his assistance in pestering me to work less. I'm not sure what the hell else she thinks I should do with my time."

Harry chuckled. "I hear you. Anyway, I don't have any problem, per se, with you and Scorpius coming over here. Only … well, Ron will be here."

Draco's face darkened. "Oh, that would be fun."

"Yeah. That's what I told Al. He pointed out – rightly so – that this is our house, not Ron's, to which I said it's not just Ron who might be uncomfortable. But apparently they've worked it all out. They will enlist Rose to tell her father to be nice. Al asked me to have Hermione do the same. And he said that you could drop off Scorpius, gauge how things go, leave if it's uncomfortable and then come back to get him at the end of the night."

"They've thought of everything, those two."

Harry chuckled. "Apparently so. I expect you'll be ambushed with this tomorrow. Thought you might appreciate a head's up."

"I do. Thank you." He looked like he wanted to say more, but then stood up again. "I'll get the materials sent off to Drummond and the lab later today, so they can start first thing in the morning."

"Thanks." They walked back to the drawing room and just as Draco reached for the Floo powder, Harry said, "Draco. Just so you know. You are welcome to join us, both you and Scorpius. But I'll understand if you don't want to."

Draco gave him a half smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'll keep that in mind."
 
 
Sesheta
Title: Second Chance – Chapter Sixteen
Author: BERJAYAsesheta_66 || AO3: sesheta_66
Prompts used: BERJAYAslythindor100’s early bird prompt E—Mugs of Hot Chocolate (picture under the cut) and BERJAYAdracoharry100’s prompt 19: Christmas Star
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 1.9K (this part)
Rating: R (eventually; this part PG)
Warning: none
Summary: This is the second Christmas for Draco without Astoria and Harry's first since Ginny remarried. Will best friends Scorpius and Albus be just what they need to rekindle something they'd thought fleeting and lost forever?
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: Written for the BERJAYAslythindor100 Early Bird 25 Days of Draco and Harry and the BERJAYAdracoharry100 Christmas Challenge.

On LJ: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16

OR on AO3

[Chapter 16]

BERJAYA

Second Chance – Chapter 16


Harry woke the next morning after a strange night. He'd dreamt of school days and potions and dragons and dead children. Not the best sleep he'd ever had.

He decided to go into Hogsmeade early and walk around for a bit, get some fresh air, clear his head. On his way to the pub, he bumped into Al and Scorpius coming out of Honeydukes. "Hello, boys."

"Hello, Mr Potter."

"Hey, Dad. You're early."

"I am. Thought I'd stretch my legs and get some fresh air before we met up." He looked down at the bags the boys were carrying. "Looks like you've got a head start."

Al looked at the bags in his hands, then at Harry, confused. "These aren't presents, just stuff."

"Just stuff, eh? My mistake."

"Okay, well, I'll see you later," Scorpius said.

"You're welcome to join us for lunch," Harry offered.

He looked wide-eyed at Harry. "Um, no thanks. I need to pick up something for my dad." He sighed. "If I can figure out what to get him."

Harry smiled. "As I recall, he had quite the sweet tooth when we were in school. If I'm not mistaken, chocolate was one of his favourites." At Scorpius' odd look, Harry continued, "Your grandmother used to send him packages all the time and he'd make sure everyone knew when they arrived."

Scorpius laughed. "That sounds about right."

"I also hear he's a pretty big deal in potions. The shops might have special packages of unusual ingredients made up for Christmas. Or some potions-related things like a tree ornament or something. If you ask, they're usually pretty helpful."

"Really?"

"Yep. I ask for stuff like that all the time when I can't think of something, or when someone is hard to buy for."

He grinned. "Thanks, Mr Potter."

"You're welcome. And good luck."

When Scorpius left, Albus gave Harry a weird look. "What?" Harry asked.

"Since when are you good at figuring out what to buy people?"

"Hey, I get gifts for you kids all the time."

"Yeah, but you know us. And we drop hints all the time. Or just tell you what we want. And you have Aunt Hermione to help you."

Harry shrugged. "I knew his dad in school. And as a dad, I know that we like pretty much anything from our kids. I'm sure he'll love whatever Scorpius gets for him."

Al dropped it and they made their way to the Three Broomsticks. "Your brother didn't want to join us?" Harry asked.

Al shrugged. "Didn't ask. He probably has all his stuff bought anyway."

Harry thought it might have more to do with wanting time away from James, but he left it alone. He enjoyed his time with each of his kids on their own anyway, and would make time with James and Lily (still too young for Hogsmeade trips) during the break. Besides, Al would be going to stay with Scorpius for a few days, so this might be his only chance for father-son time alone with him. It had been easier before the divorce, but what could you do? You play the cards life deals you. "All good. We'll get things done faster this way. Did you have anything in mind?"

Al shrugged. "Not really. I was kinda hoping things would jump out at me. Or maybe you might have some ideas."

Harry chuckled. "I thought you just said I wasn't good at picking gifts."

Al frowned. "Well, I guess you aren't that bad."

Harry opened the door, its window bearing a nativity scene complete with Christmas star, all done in fake snow, and motioned for Al to go inside. "In fairness, hoping stuff will jump out at me is usually how I do my shopping too."

They found a table, then Harry ordered sandwiches and brought two hot chocolates back to the table for them. "So, anything new to report?"

"Nothing to report." He fidgeted in his seat. "But I do have something to ask."

"No, you may not buy your grandmother something from Wizard Wheezes for Christmas."

Al rolled his eyes. "Not that. It's only … you know how Scorpius' mum died last year and all? Well, it's just him and his dad at their place now. And last year was awful. His grandmother sort of took over. But he's hoping this year will be better."

Harry wasn't sure where this was going, besides asking to stay over there. "Go on."

"Well, Scorpius has asked me to go stay with him for a few days." Before Harry could reply, he ploughed ahead. "I know we aren't home with you for long, but it would be really great for Scorpius if I went to stay for a bit. And you've got James and Lily to keep you company. It's not like you'd be alone. And I've never been to his house before – his mum was so sick, he never had anyone over. And this way we could hang out, but he could still be with his dad. And his dad said it was okay, so long as you said it was okay. And I know Uncle Ron hates him, but you don't, do you?"

"Whoa, whoa there. Slow down."

"Can I, Dad? Pleeeease?"

Harry laughed. "Wow, I haven't heard you whine like that for years." Al sat up straight, eyes wide. "Relax, I know whining usually gets you nothing, but–"

"So I can?"

Harry chuckled. "First of all, no I don't hate Scorpius' dad. We didn't like each other much in school, but that was decades ago. We've all grown up since then."

"But Uncle Ron–"

"Apparently hasn't grown up as much as the rest of us." He winked and Al laughed. "Just don't tell him I said that."

"Aunt Hermione tells him that all the time."

"Too true. Now we would have to work out details later, because your mother and I haven't finalised our own schedule, and we're not sure when we're going to Teddy's yet, but I don't have a problem with you going to stay with Scorpius."

Al's face lit up. "Thanks, Dad!"

Still wondering about the over-the-top build-up, Harry waited for more, but before Al could say anything else, their food arrived. After their sandwiches were done, Al started to fidget again. "So, Dad?"

Here it was. "Hmm?"

"So I was thinking, maybe Scorpius could come to our Christmas party?"

Well that was easy. "I think that would be a great idea."

"And–" He stared at the table. Harry waited. "Well, you know how I said that Scorpius' mum died and how it was really awful last year?"

Harry leaned forward. "Yes."

"Well … I think he's kinda worried about his dad. He says he works too much, and his grandmother worries about him. I thought maybe he could come too?"

Harry sat back in his seat again, not quite sure what to say. Especially knowing that Draco was, in fact, working right now. On something for Harry. Shit. Harry hoped he wasn't working too much. He did say potions were pretty much his whole life. He also recalled Draco's initial reaction to Harry's request: assuming that Ron was trying to set him up. And Ron would be at the party. "I–"

"All the other kids will have their parents there too. It only seems fair."

Harry narrowed his eyes. Slytherin through and through, this one. "I'm not so sure he would want to come over." It was true. How the hell would they navigate that? It was one thing to have him working at the Ministry. He could keep Ron and Draco apart there. But in his home? Sure, the party often broke into separate groups, kids in one room, some in the kitchen, some in the living room. But still.

"Because of Uncle Ron?"

Well, duh. Of course because of Ron. "I'm not so sure he'd be comfortable in any event. House full of Gryffindors and all that."

"Hello? Not all of us are Gryffindors, you know."

Harry snorted. "Yes, I do know that."

"And Rose really likes Scorpius. She'll make sure Uncle Ron's nice to him and his dad." Harry thought that would be a tall order. "And Aunt Hermione will too." That was more likely.

"Look, Al, I just–"

"But isn't Christmas a time for friends and family? Scorpius is my best friend and his dad is family. Besides, Teddy will be there, and he's their cousin. It doesn't seem fair that Scorpius would be the only kid without his parent there." He crossed his arms over his chest. "It's not Uncle Ron's house, it's ours!"

Harry considered his son. "That's right, Al. It is our house. And Christmas is a time for family and friends. But remember that Uncle Ron is both of those things. You may not like it, but it could be very uncomfortable."

"But–"

"Hang on. It could be very uncomfortable for Scorpius's dad too. And if it's uncomfortable for him, it might be uncomfortable for Scorpius too. I don't want your friend to feel uncomfortable visiting our home. Does that make sense?"

He sat there scowling and Harry could imagine the wheels of his brain spinning wildly. He got up to go to the washroom, to give him space. "I'll be right back."

When he returned, Al looked him in the eye. "What if Mr Malfoy says yes, that he'll come over?"

"I don't think–"

"But what if he is okay with it? Will you let him come over?"

"I–"

"How about if he just brings Scorpius over? Then he can come inside and see if he wants to stay. Aunt Hermione can keep Uncle Ron away from him. And if it does get uncomfortable, he can leave and just come back to get Scorpius later."

Harry thought that sounded reasonable. Well thought out. But with Ron in the mix, it was utterly unlikely to end well. "And who will be the one to tell Uncle Ron about this year's new guests?"

Al was unable to hide his smirk. In his mind, he'd won. "I think Rose should. She can lay it on thick, saying it would be great to have Scorpius come to the party, remind her dad that his mum died last year. Say how everyone has their parents come too."

Harry raised a brow. "You mean the way you just did to me?"

He had the grace to blush at that. Undeterred at getting caught in his own scheme, he went on. "And maybe you could talk to Aunt Hermione?" he asked hopefully.

"And I suppose Scorpius will go at it from the other flank?" He thought about how he'd approach things. "Maybe tell his dad that it's only fair, if they have you over that he has to let Scorpius come to our house? And of course, if all the other parents are there, he can't be the only one on his own? Does that sound about right?"

Al tilted his head and scrutinised Harry for a few moments. "You weren't lying when you said the hat almost put you in Slytherin, were you?"

Harry raised a brow and shot his son a smirk of his own. "No, Al, I was not."
 
 
 
Sesheta
Title: Second Chance – Chapter Fifteen
Author: BERJAYAsesheta_66 || AO3: sesheta_66
Prompts used: BERJAYAslythindor100’s early bird prompt C—Wreaths on Exterior of Brick Building at Night (picture under the cut) and BERJAYAdracoharry100’s prompt 29: Northern Lights
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 2.2K (this part)
Rating: R (eventually; this part PG)
Warning: none
Summary: This is the second Christmas for Draco without Astoria and Harry's first since Ginny remarried. Will best friends Scorpius and Albus be just what they need to rekindle something they'd thought fleeting and lost forever?
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: Written for the BERJAYAslythindor100 Early Bird 25 Days of Draco and Harry and the BERJAYAdracoharry100 Christmas Challenge.

On LJ: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

OR on AO3

[Chapter 15]

BERJAYA

Second Chance – Chapter 15


Harry watched an animated and excited Draco talk about the potion as though it were a work of art. When Harry reminded him that it was, in fact, poison, he waved the comment away. Yes, it was poison, but it was a masterpiece of poison. His love for his chosen field reminded Harry of Snape in their first year, describing the "subtle science and exact art" that was potion-making.

While Harry would never get worked up about potions like Snape or Draco, he did respect the field. Once removed from Snape's overbearing presence, he'd been able to do fairly well in the subject. Good thing too, or he never would have made it as an Auror. He'd never have the passion for the speciality, not like Draco had. But he could appreciate his exuberance. It was rather endearing, though he'd never tell the man that, for fear he'd be hexed into tomorrow.

Bemused, Harry had got caught up in his enthusiasm, and had agreed to push through approval for him to work from home. Thankfully he'd been able to reach someone to do the inspection – two Ministry officials needed to be present for such matters, and Harry could only validate the security of the place; he needed someone else to verify that the lab was … whatever it had to be to be certified.

Only as they waited for the inspector to meet them did Harry realise that he was going to be entering Draco's home. The home he'd built with his wife. Where they'd raised their son.

When he and Draco had spent their short time together, they'd only ever met at Grimmauld Place. Harry sure as hell wasn't going to step foot in the Manor again. The Ministry was hard enough. He'd rather not go back to the place where they and Luna and Dean and Mr Ollivander and Griphook had been held captive. Where Hermione had been tortured. Where Wormtail's silver hand had choked its owner to death in front of them. Where Bellatrix had thrown the silver dagger that had ended Dobby's life.

He wondered if the place would be as grand or imposing as Malfoy Manor. Draco could certainly afford it, but Harry wondered if he'd want something like that. Or if he'd have chosen something less ostentatious. He couldn't imagine him in a cottage in the country or a bungalow in the suburbs.

The inspector's arrival interrupted his thoughts. Guess he'd find out soon enough. "Hello, Mr Potter." He and Harry shook hands. "Robert Cartwright, at your service."

"We appreciate you doing this on such short notice and at such a late hour, Robert."

"Not at all, not at all. I'm old-school. I've been working the later shift my whole life. I'm on the clock until seven, later if you need."

Harry motioned towards Draco. "This is Draco Malfoy. The laboratory in question is at his residence."

Draco shook the man's hand. "As Mr Potter said, we appreciate you doing this at the last minute, Robert. I think you'll find everything is in order. The lab has been inspected and certified privately for work in all manner of potions and other substances, has secure access, meets state of the art fire safety standards and containment requirements."

"Well, let's go have a look then, shall we?"

Draco offered to side-along apparate Robert, who wasn't keen on doing so solo in the dark, to a place he'd never been before. Harry, though still not loving the process, had mastered the craft out of necessity in his years as an Auror. Draco gave him his address and described the location well enough that it was no problem.

When he arrived, he took a moment to appreciate the place. It was, indeed, a manor house, but not as stately as Malfoy Manor. Posh but not obnoxiously superior. It suited Draco. Wreaths hung on every window, lighting up the front facade with Christmas cheer. He tried to imagine Draco getting excited enough about Christmas to dress up the place and wondered what Christmases at the Malfoy home had been like for Scorpius growing up here.

He thought about his own home, the same as it always was before school let out, dreary and dull compared to the rest of the neighbourhood. He didn't like to decorate without the kids – it had always been a family affair. He and Ginny would agree to put a few things up while the boys were away at school, when Lily's pestering would get to be too much. Outside lights and her room, primarily. But the main decorating was something to be done as a team while sipping eggnog and listening to carols on the wireless. Since Gin had left, he hadn't bothered doing anything until the kids got there. He wondered when they'd get around to it this year, with the lot of them leaving for Mallorca right away.

Pushing that thought aside, he followed Draco and Robert into the house.

Harry conducted the review of security measures while Robert looked over the laboratory itself. In short order, the two of them proclaimed it approved for Ministry work and signed the requisite forms.

"Well, if that's all you need from me, I can go log and file these at the office and get going home." He grinned and patted his stomach. "The wife is making cottage pie tonight."

Harry chuckled. "Absolutely, and thanks again Robert."

"Did you need a side-along to get back?" Draco asked.

"Nah, I'll be fine. I've been there once or twice before." He winked and apparated away.

Leaving Harry alone with Draco.

"So this is your place?" he asked lamely.

As though peering over an invisible pair of glasses, Draco shot Harry a bemused look. "No, Potter, this is some random Muggle's home that I created a magical potions lab in."

"Very funny." Harry fumbled nervously to retrieve the potion at the centre of the case. Bloody hell, what was wrong with him? He pulled out a form and walked over to a table at the side of the room. "I'll need you to sign this. It's for–"

"Chain of custody, I know." Draco had sneaked up behind him as he'd got out a pen. Harry nearly jumped at the sound of his voice. He handed over the pen, watched him sign, then handed over the potion. "And yes, this is my place. We bought it when Astoria was pregnant with Scorpius."

"It's nice. Private, lots of space, seems quiet."

"It is. So far from the city, we've even seen the northern lights out here a few times."

"I bet Scorpius loved that." Draco grinned. "I also noticed you have a fair few wreaths outside."

Draco scoffed. "Mother sent over her house-elf. Said that Scorpius should come home to Christmas cheer. I relented, but only for the outside." Harry thought maybe he should do the same for his kids. "I plan to have a father-son decorating evening for the inside when he gets home from school." Harry smiled, looking forward to the same, when it eventually happened. "Come on. I'll show you around."

They wandered through the different rooms and, though decorated in a luxurious way, the place felt less palatial and much more homey than Draco's ancestral home. This place felt warm and welcoming, with no imposing portraits but plenty of family photographs scattered around. He noticed a few pictures of Teddy with Draco and Scorpius; he kept forgetting that they were cousins. All in all, it was a much more inviting home than Malfoy Manor. Then again, Harry had only ever been there in the middle of a war, while it was overrun by Death Eaters and he and his friends were being held captive. He hadn't had much time to consider the decor, what while planning an escape.

"I'm surprised you didn't stay at the Manor. I thought it was a generational family home."

"It is, and if Narcissa had had her way, we would have. But let's just say that neither Astoria nor I wanted the parental guidance that I had as a child to be thrust upon our son. Same with her family. We thought it best to raise Scorpius as free from the earlier generation's prejudiced views as possible. Which wouldn't have been easy at the Manor, what with all the portraits giving their opinions too."

Harry smiled. Draco really had matured. "You're a good father, Draco." He'd said it without thinking, but meant it.

Draco's eyes widened. "You couldn't know that."

"I can tell by the way your eyes light up when you talk about him that you love him very much. Plus I've heard nothing but good things about Scorpius. Given that he and Albus are virtually inseparable at school, it's hard to have a conversation about one without hearing about the other. And Rose adores him. I figure you've done something right."

Draco turned away and sat down on a stiff-looking chair. "I hope so." Harry took a seat on a similar one opposite, pleasantly surprised at how comfortable it was. Seems like everything about this place surprised Harry.

"It must be hard now, just the two of you." He thought of his own place and how it had felt at first, adjusting to Gin's absence. He's used to it by now, and the children still have their mother. But it's a strange new normal, having to split parenting time.

Draco peered down at his hands. "Mother has helped. She was a godsend when Astoria passed last year. Prejudices aside, she was a good mother, and she's a loving grandmother. We were lucky to have her strength to help us get through it."

"I'm sorry for your loss. And sorry for Scorpius, having to grow up without a mother."

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "It's not so bad. He has his memories. We had some good years before her condition worsened. In the end, she'd been sick for so long, she knew her time was limited. We knew. She made a point of writing down letters for him, so he's got something from her for every birthday and Christmas until he's twenty-five." He chuckled. "She always was the planner. She even left memories with me to show him at key moments in his life."

Harry tried not to choke up at that. What he would have given to have such things from his mother. "That sounds wonderful."

"She was a good mum. An excellent mum, actually. That's probably why Scorpius turned out so great."

"Oh, I'm sure his dad had something to do with it too."

"I like to think so." Looking somewhat uncomfortable, Draco got up and walked across the room to a bar cart. He held up a glass. "Care for a drink?"

Harry wanted to. Wanted to learn more about Draco's life since they'd gone their separate ways. He really did. But he had a feeling that one drink would take away all his self control and he was barely keeping it in check already. "Thanks, but I'd better not. I've got a shopping date with Al tomorrow and I still haven't finished those damn Christmas cards."

"Gabriella will not be pleased."

Harry chuckled. "You've got that right. She's been on my ass about it for nearly two weeks. You know there were some with Christmas kittens on them? Who the hell would I send those to?"

Draco raised his brows in amusement. "You could send one to Umbridge in Azkaban."

Harry laughed. "I very nearly did."

"You really should."

"Don't tempt me. Anyway, I won't hear the end of it if they aren't on Gabi's desk when she comes in Monday morning."

"Speaking of Monday morning, I've an appointment in Scotland. I'm guest lecturing at Hogwarts." He held up the vial Harry had given him. "Another reason for me to want to get a jump on this potion."

"I didn't know you taught at Hogwarts."

"Have done for years now. Hogwarts and Durmstrang, actually. Two or three times a year, usually. Slughorn and McGonagall want me to talk to the senior classes about my work and answer any questions about career options with potions as a focus."

"Hmm. I do the same, but for Defence. Strange McGonagall didn't mention it."

"She didn't mention you to me either. But is it so strange, really? It's not like we got along in school. Didn't end on a particularly happy note either. She probably figured best not to poke the beast by mentioning either of us to the other."

Harry thought he was probably right. "Fair point."

"This one was a bit of a last-minute surprise." He looked at the vial, still in his hand. "Not unlike this."

"This month seems to be full of surprises."

"Indeed. I even managed to convince McGonagall to let me take Scorpius into Hogsmeade for an early supper after class, but I'll be home in the evening and can get back to work."

"Sounds good. On that note, I'll get back to the office and get the last of the cards done so I don't have to meet with a holy wrath on Monday."

"Good luck with that. I'll let you know if I have some major breakthrough this weekend. Thanks, by the way, for agreeing to this, and for arranging the last-minute Friday night inspection. I have a theory about something and I want to move on it right away."

"A theory? Care to share?"

He shook his head. "Not yet. But I'll let you know if it pans out."

Harry nodded. "Have a good weekend, Draco."

"Goodnight, Potter."
 
 
 
Sesheta
Title: Second Chance – Chapter Fourteen
Author: BERJAYAsesheta_66 || AO3: sesheta_66
Prompts used: BERJAYAslythindor100’s early bird prompt N—Christmas Lights on Snow-covered Trees (picture under the cut) and BERJAYAdracoharry100’s prompt 15: Santa Hat
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 2.5K (this part)
Rating: R (eventually; this part PG)
Warning: none
Summary: This is the second Christmas for Draco without Astoria and Harry's first since Ginny remarried. Will best friends Scorpius and Albus be just what they need to rekindle something they'd thought fleeting and lost forever?
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: Written for the BERJAYAslythindor100 Early Bird 25 Days of Draco and Harry and the BERJAYAdracoharry100 Christmas Challenge.

On LJ: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14

OR on AO3

[Chapter 14]

BERJAYA

Second Chance – Chapter 14


Draco arrived shortly after nine in the morning to pick up his security access card and the briefing folder, hoping to collect everything from Potter's assistant and leave without having to come face-to-face with him again. He hadn't slept well the night before, his mind drifting back to the past again, and wasn't sure he could manage to keep his discomfort from showing.

Fucking Pansy. Why had she dumped that load of utter rubbish on him? He kept running through everything she'd said. Yes, he'd watched Potter in school. Of course he had. He needed to be sure the twat wasn't up to something. Had to watch his own back too. And Potter was probably doing the same. Slytherins and Gryffindors had to be wary of one another. But the way she talked about them, it was like only the two of them did that. Well, their situation was different. They were competitors on the Quidditch pitch too. Both seekers. Perfectly normal.

She couldn't be right, could she? She didn't know about what had happened between Potter and him after the war – no one knew. Unless Potter had said something. But it would have been to his merry band of Gryffindors, not to Pansy of all people. And if he'd done that, Weasley would have been apoplectic and definitely done something to Draco. No, this was all speculation on her part. Rather on the nose, though, if you considered what had happened between them. But Draco didn't buy her analysis. What had happened between them had nothing whatsoever to do with deeply buried feelings. It had just been a post-war, low-stakes, high-energy whatever. Nothing more.

His reaction yesterday? Purely physical. Something he could handle. Or could have handled if Pansy hadn't planted that seed of doubt or whatever it was. Now? He was a fucking mess. Had hardly slept. Needed to wrap his head around a new case that multiple people had looked at but hadn't resolved. He had a good mind to screw up her order as payback for this.

Okay. Breathe, Draco. Back to the task at hand. He walked in and was relieved to see Potter's door closed as he approached Gabriella's desk. She looked up and greeted him with a warm smile and a festive Santa hat on her head. "Nice to see you, Mr Malfoy."

He grinned at the hat. "And you, Gabriella. Good morning."

"Just a minute." She picked up her phone and dialled someone. "Yes, Mr Malfoy is here. Sure. Come on over." She handed him a folder. "Here you go. Auror Drummond is on his way here. Mr Potter wanted to introduce you before you leave." Draco's stomach flipped. So much for escaping without seeing him. "Go on in."

He forced a smile and proceeded to the door, but before he could knock the door swung open and Potter was there. "Oh. Draco. I didn't realise you were here."

He held up the file. "Got the material from Gabriella. She says you want to introduce me to the investigator on the case?"

Potter looked over his shoulder at Gabriella and she said, "He's on his way."

Potter smiled and motioned him inside. As Draco walked past him, he caught a familiar citrus scent. Amazing how something as simple as the smell of shampoo can trigger a memory and transport you back in time. Interesting that Potter hadn't changed that since … well. He resisted the urge to draw in a deep breath as he passed and took a seat in the visitor's chair. To avoid staring into those green eyes, with Pansy's voice echoing in his head, he opened the file and sifted through the contents while Potter talked with his assistant.

When he returned, Potter reached across Draco and pointed to the access card, his hand brushing Draco's. "That will get you into the building and the secure lab." He leaned over and flipped the first few pages. This time Draco didn't resist; he closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. "Those are forms to submit your hours, and this –" Draco blinked his eyes open, returning to the present just as Potter pointed to the top of another page "– is your temporary access code to the computer system. You've worked with computers, yeah?"

"I'm not a fossil, Potter." His voice came out raspy and he cleared his throat. Potter looked irritated. Draco hoped he didn't catch him with his eyes closed. "Of course I've worked with computers."

"Sorry." Potter stepped back with his hands up in surrender. Draco was at once relieved and disappointed. "No offence intended."

Draco could breathe freely again, no citrus. His focus returned and he waved away the apology. "None taken."

Potter's attention turned to his door. "And here's Drummond."

A tall man, reasonably fit, mid-thirties by the looks of him, entered the office. "Good morning, sir." He turned his attention to Draco. "You must be Mr Malfoy."

They shook hands. Firm grip, as befitting an Auror. "In the flesh."

"Drummond has been working on the case from the start, and has interviewed all the witnesses, coordinated with the lab and St Mungo's, and is the go-to person for details."

"Good to meet you." He held up the folder. "I presume you are the one to thank for this?"

He nodded. "Most of it, yes, but Amelia – she works in the Auror office – gathered the Mungo's and lab stuff. Just let me know if you have any questions or need clarification on anything."

"I shall. I plan to read this over today. Would there be a convenient time for us to discuss details once I'm done?"

"I'm out in the field this afternoon, but I'll be back at the end of the day, between four and five o'clock."

Draco looked through the file. "I should be able to get through the material by then. I'll swing by here after I'm done, talk to the folks in the lab, then make my way to your office. Where would that be?"

"Just across the hall, on the other side of the floor." He glanced up at Potter, looked mildly uncomfortable, then looked back at Draco. "Or I could just come down to the lab when I'm all finished. Would that work?"

"That sounds excellent, thanks." He suspected there was more to that offer than convenience for Draco. He hoped it wasn't a reflection on his perceived trustworthiness, or lack thereof.

Drummond smiled. "Anything else you need from me?" he asked Potter.

"No, that's it. Thanks." And he left.

Draco raised a brow at Potter. "Any reason you didn't want me to go to Drummond's office?"

"Caught that, did you?" Potter leaned forward. "I'll give you one guess."

Potter stared at him with those green eyes. All concern about lack of trust vanished as Draco realised the problem. "Weasley?"

Potter nodded. "Drummond's desk is right outside Ron's office." He leaned back in his chair, looking every bit as delicious as Pansy had suggested. He would not be sharing that observation with her. "Unless you'd like to pop in, say hey, catch up on old times?"

"Fuck off."

Potter laughed. "I thought not. Anyway, I know you're a busy man, so I won't keep you, unless there's anything else you need."

There's a lot I need. "No, I think that's everything. I'll be in touch if anything pops up." He nearly groaned at his own words.

"Sounds good."

Draco got out of there before he could tell Potter precisely what he might need from him.

Fucking Pansy.

Having handed over much of his ongoing projects to Nigel, Draco was able to dedicate most of the afternoon to reviewing the file. The lab had done some top-notch work breaking down the potion, but some elements remained undetected. Not unusual. That's often what makes developing antidotes so difficult.

He made notes to ask the lab techs and Drummond, but what he really needed to do was look at the potion himself. Checking the time, he realised that the day had all but slipped away; he hoped he had enough time at the lab, and wouldn't be keeping people late on a Friday. He always tried to respect other people's personal time.

By the time he returned to the Ministry, it was nearly four thirty. He went straight to the lab, let himself in, and was relieved to see several of the techs still working.

"Mr Malfoy. Nice to see you."

After wrangling the answers he could out of those present, he asked to look at the potion. They set him up at a workstation where he began to work. So immersed in his work, he didn't hear Drummond enter. "Am I interrupting?"

Well, yes, he was, but that wasn't his fault. "No, no. Come on over."

"Did you have any questions for me?"

"I do, but I don't think they'll take long."

By the time they'd finished, he noticed that all but one of the lab techs had left, and Susan – he thought that was her name – was watching patiently. "Am I keeping you?" Draco asked. She shuffled in place and he checked the time. Five thirty. On a Friday night! "Of course I am. I'm sorry. Let me just put this away."

She came over. "Actually, I have to do that. Chain of evidence and all that."

Draco nearly forgot that he was dealing with evidence in a criminal case. "Of course. Again, I'm sorry to keep you late on a Friday."

"It's okay." She smiled sheepishly and returned the potion to the vault.

Draco got up and put on his coat. He really wanted to continue working on this. "Is anyone here on the weekends?"

Susan shook her head. "Afraid not. Only when there's a push for a case and overtime is approved in advance."

"Fair enough. I'll get out of your hair now. Thank you again, Susan, and have a good weekend."

"You're welcome and you too."

He left with Drummond and they finished up their discussion on the way to the lift. "I think that's all I have for you right now. Thanks for staying late on my account. Seems I'm keeping everyone past their quitting time."

He chuckled. "We always work late in the Auror department. It's no problem at all."

When Drummond got off the lift, Draco had an idea and got off too. He looked mildly panicked until he saw that Draco was going to the opposite side of the floor. "Have a good weekend, Drummond."

"You too, Mr Malfoy."

Draco hoped that 'we always work late' applied to Potter too. As he approached the office, he found out that it did. Everyone else had packed up, but the lights were on and the door to his office was open. Draco tapped on the door and Potter jumped.

"On edge, Potter?"

"Draco. I wasn't expecting anyone. Just caught me off guard." He looked at the clock. "You're here late. Something I can do for you?"

Draco walked in and sat down. "As a matter of fact, there is."

"Name it."

"Well, the lab is a Monday to Friday operation, and I was hoping to jump right in. I looked at the potion just now, and it's magnificent."

Potter scowled. "It's poison."

"Yes, yes, I know that. Nevertheless, it is a magnificent concoction. There's no way a random drug manufacturer created it. There's nothing accidental about it, from my brief look just now."

"Go on."

"It looks like it was created with intention, with great attention to detail."

"You got all this from looking at it once?"

Draco nodded. "I read the file, so I know what they were able to discern from their analyses to date. Both Mungo's and your lab were able to establish most of the individual components, but have been left baffled by the balance, so I knew it was intricate. But what the report didn't say is how much finesse went into its preparation. That's what I saw just now."

"Okay, but I don't know what you expect from me. I can't help figure out–"

"No, of course not. What I need from you is permission to remove a sample from the lab. Take it home to study it more. Run my own analysis."

"At your lab? I can't do that unless we run a security check on everyone working there."

"No, no. I have a lab at home."

"At your home? In addition to your main lab?"

"Yes. In fact, I have a highly secure facility in my basement. It has retina and fingerprint access, so only I can enter. With Astoria unwell for some time and Scorpius needing supervision, I did a lot of work from home. I've also used it before when working on more volatile potions, and I had it reinforced to be sure not to put them at risk."

"I don't know."

Draco sighed in exasperation. "You want this case solved, right?"

"You know I do. That's why we hired you."

"Then let me do my job. I can work on it this weekend, see if I can make any headway. Otherwise, we'll lose two days waiting until I can get into your lab again. That's two more days this bottom feeder is out there, preying on kids, manufacturing poison, and ruining people's lives." Potter considered what Draco was saying, but he still looked unconvinced. "Look, come with me now. Check out the facility for yourself. Do an inspection or whatever the hell you need to do. Bring a team of inspectors if you want." Draco almost had him. "You're the head of the department, right? Surely you can approve this."

"I've got to say, Draco, I didn't expect you to be so … enthusiastic."

"What can I say? Potions are my life. Pretty much my whole life. And I love a good challenge. It's like a puzzle, a riddle. Something to be taken apart and put back together again. There's something hidden in there, and I mean to find it. And I don't want to wait until Monday to start."

Potter laughed. "Okay, okay. You've convinced me. Let me see if anyone is still around now to do the inspection."

Draco waited while Potter made a few phone calls. He was itching to dive into this. He'd been so impressed by the calibre of the potion that he just knew there wouldn't be more than a handful of people in Britain capable of pulling it off. And he was determined to figure out who it was.

"You're in luck. We have one inspector still at his desk. He'll meet us at the main entrance. Let's go down to the evidence lock-up and sign out a vial for you, presuming your lab will pass."

"Excellent. Let's go!"

Draco hadn't been this excited about a new project in a long time. So excited, in fact, that as he stared out at the Christmas lights on the snow-covered trees outside, waiting for the inspector to join them, he only just now realised that he'd invited Potter to his house.
 
 
 
Sesheta
Title: Second Chance – Chapter Thirteen
Author: BERJAYAsesheta_66 || AO3: sesheta_66
Prompts used: BERJAYAslythindor100’s early bird prompt S—Christmas Greetings Card (picture under the cut) and BERJAYAdracoharry100’s prompt 4: Christmas Kittens
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 2.1K (this part)
Rating: R (eventually; this part PG)
Warning: none
Summary: This is the second Christmas for Draco without Astoria and Harry's first since Ginny remarried. Will best friends Scorpius and Albus be just what they need to rekindle something they'd thought fleeting and lost forever?
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: Written for the BERJAYAslythindor100 Early Bird 25 Days of Draco and Harry and the BERJAYAdracoharry100 Christmas Challenge.

On LJ: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13

OR on AO3

[Chapter 13]

BERJAYA

Second Chance – Chapter 13


Harry returned to his office after introducing Draco around at the lab. After brief introductions, and a bit of fawning on a couple of the younger lab techs' parts – apparently Draco was a bit of a big shot in the potions world – they started talking about the lab, their resources, some of the cool equipment and new technology they had, and eventually the case. Harry didn't follow half of what any of them were saying – truthfully, he felt a bit like he had in Potions class back at school.

Draco, however, had been in his element. Harry watched him visibly relax and become animated, immersed in the conversation. It was a good look on him. Harry had to interrupt the conversation and explain that Draco had to return to his own lab today, but that he'd be back to work on the case once he cleared his schedule. The disappointment on the young kids' faces was comical.

Draco had assured them that he'd return and, after checking the time, said he could give them another half hour, if Harry was okay with that. Harry said that was fine, but he'd take his leave, since he was of no use to them anyway. As he left Draco, once again thoroughly engaged with the lab techs, he knew he'd made the right decision.

Harry, on the other hand, was not in his element. He'd underestimated how strong his reaction to being in the same room as Draco again would be. Sure, he'd seen the man in passing over the years, from across the train platform or on a city street, but up close? Fucking hell, he'd walked in looking sexier than any potions geek had a right to look. Then he'd accused Ron of hatching a plot to have him thrown in prison, somehow manipulating Harry into participating. Then he'd accused Harry of using Al as some sort of leverage to coerce him into working on the case. The man was utterly exasperating! He always could get under Harry's skin like no one else. It was all Harry could do to keep his cool.

But then he'd seen how uncomfortable Draco had been, being back at the Ministry. He'd reached out, not even thinking about what he was doing, and tried to reassure him. But in the process, he'd felt the heat of the other man's skin through that crisp white shirt, inhaled the faintest sandalwood scent from a lifetime ago, and had very nearly moaned. It felt – there was no other way to describe it – like coming home. It was all he could do to maintain a calm demeanour, forcing a neutral expression. Thank Merlin for all his training.

The last thing he wanted to do was scare Draco off. As was evident from their short visit to the lab, not to mention the high opinion of those at Mungo's, he was absolutely the man for the job. Was it good for Harry to have him this close? Apparently not. Had he given it more than a passing thought before he'd hastily written to Draco, he might have considered that he was going down a road that he probably shouldn't go down. But the decision was made, and he would have to live with it. He could do this. He was a trained Auror. He'd worked undercover more times than he could count. Surely he could feign disinterest in someone he hadn't had a meaningful discussion with for the past two decades. He could do this. He could. Definitely. Probably. Maybe.

Harry looked at the Christmas cards on his desk and reluctantly began filling them in. He recalled Draco's earlier comment and grinned. He hadn't been wrong: Harry hated paperwork. As department head, he was expected to send one to all manner of people, both inside and outside of the Ministry. But who the hell he was going to send the Christmas kittens ones to, he had no idea. Maybe he'd send one to Umbridge in Azkaban. That might be fun.

Just as he'd established a rhythm and had reached page two of the four-page mailing list Gabi had prepared, Ron knocked on his door and entered with purpose. Lovely. "So, did the ferret agree to work on the case?"

Harry didn't find the ferret remark nearly as amusing this time. "He did."

Ron's ears went pink, as did his neck. Harry watched his friend muster what restraint he could before spitting out, "Keep him away from me."

Emotionally drained after the encounter with Draco, Harry found he didn't have the patience to walk on eggshells with a Head Auror who was stuck in his adolescence. "Close the door and sit down, Ron."

Ron huffed, but did as Harry asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "What?"

"I need you to listen to what I have to say, without interruption. If you have something to say, you can do so when I'm done. But you will listen. Really listen. Am I clear?"

Ron pursed his lips, ears and neck increasingly more red, and nodded.

"Good." Harry collected his thoughts and took a moment to tamp down his irritation. "As I've explained, Draco was recommended for the job. Not just recommended, mind, but highly recommended. After he agreed to work on the case, I took him to the lab to introduce him around." He could see the scene as if he were still standing there, and suppressed a smile. "His reputation clearly preceded him."

Ron snorted. "I bet it did."

"For fuck's sake, Ron, grow up. The man has a reputation as a stellar potions master. He's top in his field. The lab techs knew of him and were practically falling all over themselves to talk to him." Ron's disbelief poured off him. "It's true. And you don't get that sort of reaction without having earned it."

Ron coughed. "Lockhart."

"Oh, my god. They didn't fall all over themselves to get an autograph from some pretty boy with an award-winning smile. They wanted to talk shop with him. Show off the equipment in the lab. They are beside themselves excited to work with him."

"Well, I'm not."

Harry sighed. "I did say no interruptions, yeah? Here's the thing: he is working on this case. Mainly he'll be in the lab, but he will be consulting with Drummond as well. If there comes a time when you have to work with him–"

"I won't!"

"You will!" It wasn't often that Harry was compelled to raise his voice at work, but this was getting ridiculous. Ron clenched his jaw but said nothing more. "Your job is Head Auror. Your job includes managing the cases of your investigators. I have told you that any issues requiring authorisation will go through me, because I recognise there is bad blood between you." Ron's incredulous glare screamed understatement and Harry couldn't disagree. "But time is of the essence. We can't allow personal feelings to delay action. Children are dying, Ron. In all likelihood you won't have to work with him at all. I'll see to that. But you know my schedule. If at some point, in the interest of time, you are required to work with Draco, you will do so. And you will act like the professional I know you to be. Any personal issues you have with Draco get left at the door when you come to work. Am I making myself clear?"

Ron grumbled something, looking every bit a petulant child. When Harry stared at him, saying nothing, he nodded. "Perfectly."

"Excellent. Now, if you don't have anything else to say, I'd like to put this to rest."

"Oh, I've got loads to say, but I'll keep it to myself. Boss."

Harry would not be goaded into a prolonged battle with Ron on this. The decision was his to make, and he'd made it. Ron would just have to live with it. "That's probably wise."

Ron stood up. "Anything else, sir?"

Harry ignored the dig. "Draco will pick up the briefing material in the morning. If Drummond's in the office, I can call him over and introduce them."

"Fine."

"Excellent. That's all I've got. Anything else from your end?"

"Nope." He left, leaving no doubt that he was pissed.

Well that went well.

The balance of the day was filled with meetings, phone calls and paperwork. As Harry wrapped all that up and was about to get back to the Christmas cards, Drummond knocked on his door.

"Got a minute?"

"Sure, come on in." He closed the door and took a seat, looking uncomfortable. "Is something wrong?"

Drummond leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped together, and stared at the floor. Harry waited. Eventually, he looked up. "I'm not sure how to say this …"

Harry smiled. "I find that one word at a time works pretty well."

He chuckled. "Right. It's about this drug case. Well, not the case so much as …" His voice drifted off and he looked down at the floor again.

"Go on."

"Is there something I should know? I mean, Ron basically said you're taking over the case."

"Did he now?"

"Did I do something wrong?"

Harry smiled and leaned forward. "Absolutely not. You're our top investigator, which is why you are leading this case."

"So why are you–"

"I'm not taking over the case. I am merely consulting on any issues pertaining to the outside potions expertise we're bringing in."

"You mean Draco Malfoy."

"I do." At Drummond's perplexed look, he decided to be transparent about the issue. To a point. "There's a history between Ron and Draco. It's not a good one."

"What's that?"

Harry considered how much to say. He didn't want to taint Drummond's opinion of either Ron or Draco. Particularly Ron, since he'd be working with him long after this case was over. With that in mind, he chose to leave out Ron's inability to separate Lucius from Draco, to recognise that Draco had acted under duress during Voldemort's reign, or differentiate past Draco from present Draco. Likewise, as he had done at the Wizengamot after the war, he left out Draco's feeble attempts at murder, however coerced they'd been, which had resulted in near-death scares for both Katie and Ron.

"It's a long story. Suffice it to say that it goes back to our school days. The Malfoys – particularly Malfoy senior – had been critical of the Weasleys for years. And in school, our friend groups did not get along – very few Gryffindors got along with Slytherins, and the rivalry between us ran deeper than that. Then fast forward to the war, and we were on opposite sides, with Draco's father being firmly ensconced in Voldemort's inner circle." Harry wasn't telling him anything that wasn't a matter of public record. "Draco and his mother both assisted our side in the end – me in particular – but Ron hasn't let go of what went before.

"I'll be honest with you. Neither of them wants to work together, so I've offered to be the senior liaison, as needed. I want to be clear: I would not have sought out Draco's expertise, particularly in view of his and Ron's animosity, had Mungo's not said he's the best man for the job. I want to catch this guy, and will do what's necessary to get him and his poison off the street."

"Amen to that."

"You remain the lead investigator, and you still report to Ron on this case. I'll only step in if the situation necessitates." Drummond relaxed. "Does that clear things up for you?"

He smiled. "It does. Thanks."

Harry thought of his earlier conversation with Ron. "If, however, I'm not available, and a decision is required quickly, go to Ron. He'll do what's right. We all want this guy behind bars."

"Will do." He stood up to leave, then stopped. "Ron said Draco would be coming here in the morning?"

"Yes. If you're available, I can let you know when he arrives and I'll introduce you."

"Sounds good. I have some field work to do, but I can hold off until the afternoon."

"Great. I'll see you in the morning."

Once Drummond left, Harry decided to pack up for the night. He looked at the pile of Christmas cards yet to finish. They'd have to wait. It had been a roller coaster of a day and tomorrow promised to be another. He'd need a good night's rest if he was going to face it with a clear head.
 
 
Sesheta
Title: Second Chance – Chapter Twelve
Author: BERJAYAsesheta_66 || AO3: sesheta_66
Prompts used: BERJAYAslythindor100’s early bird prompt B – Plate of Chocolate-dipped Cookies (picture under the cut) and BERJAYAdracoharry100’s prompt 17: Yule Log
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 2.5K (this part)
Rating: R (eventually; this part PG)
Warning: none
Summary: This is the second Christmas for Draco without Astoria and Harry's first since Ginny remarried. Will best friends Scorpius and Albus be just what they need to rekindle something they'd thought fleeting and lost forever?
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: Written for the BERJAYAslythindor100 Early Bird 25 Days of Draco and Harry and the BERJAYAdracoharry100 Christmas Challenge.

On LJ: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12

OR on AO3

[Chapter 12]

BERJAYA

Second Chance – Chapter 12


Draco arrived back at work somewhat disoriented, not entirely sure why he'd agreed to work for the Ministry. The very place he'd adamantly refused to work for his entire career. Oh, who was he kidding? He'd agreed because Potter had asked. With no strings – had even given him an out after he'd signed the damn contract. Potter had been respectful and … nice.

It was something Draco had wanted the whole time they'd been in school together – ever since the refused hand in first year. Even after the war, he hadn't had that. Yes, they'd had their brief time together, but what had that been anyway? Six weeks in a bubble, hidden away from the rest of the world. They'd had awkward, then good, then great sex. But like Potter had said, they hadn't really talked. Yes, they'd grown close – how could they not have? – but they hadn't been friends. Hadn't been much more than two exhausted and horny teenagers getting off on the thrill of the moment. Or at least that's what Draco had told himself at the time.

Looking back on it over the years, Draco had chalked it up to two people who'd been through a lot of shit, and had wanted to forget about it. Immerse themselves in something new, something that had seemed inevitable at the time. Something forbidden. Slytherin and Gryffindor. Malfoy and Potter. Death Eater and Chosen One.

But neither of them had told anyone. It had been their own little secret. Okay, big secret. And somehow, for that six weeks, no one had found out. But then, as secrets tend to do, the reality of keeping something this big to yourself had worn on them. Potter had Auror training and Draco had to go away to finish his schooling. Could they have made it work, a long-distance relationship? They were wizards, for fuck's sake. Of course they could have. But they'd both realised that what they had wasn't real, wasn't lasting, wasn't forever. Couldn't be. The public and the people closest to them would have seen to that. They'd resigned themselves to a future of obligations. Potter had to save the fucking world, as many times as they asked him to, and Draco had to do what all good purebloods did, and carry on the family line.

They'd had their time, fleeting as it had been, and then it was back to reality. And that had been that. They'd moved on, and had never spoken of it since. Had hardly spoken to each other at all for over twenty years. Until today. Knowing he was going to see Potter had brought back the memories, but last night had been nothing compared to being in the man's office today. And a man he was. Fucking hell, Potter had filled out well. Thank Merlin he hadn't been in uniform – that might have done Draco in entirely.

And then he'd touched Draco – nothing overt, just a hand on his arm when he'd seen Draco's discomfort. Of course. Saint Potter, always looking out for others. But he hadn't felt comforted at Potter's touch. No, it had sent a spark of desire through him that he hadn't felt for years. Since …

He'd looked at Potter then, looked for a sign that he'd felt something too, but he'd given nothing away. Famous for his inability to hide his feelings, Draco had to conclude that Potter must not have felt anything. And wasn't that just a punch in the gut?

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! What was he thinking, agreeing to work with the man? He'd managed all these years without him, only sparing him an occasional thought. And now, in less than a day, he'd turned Draco's world upside down.

He drew in a few deep, calming breaths. He was being overly dramatic. It was just a physical reaction. Something to be expected from the touch of someone with whom you'd been intimate. Nothing more. A few more deep breaths. Better. Right. He opened the door and walked inside.

Bridgette met him halfway to his office. "Good afternoon. How did it go at the Ministry? Did you let Mr Potter down gracefully?"

"Hello, Bridgette. It went well. And no I did not." At her look of concern, he added, "Relax. I didn't do anything stupid. Well, no, that's not right. I have actually done something stupid. Profoundly stupid. I agreed to work with them on this case."

"You what?"

He walked past her towards his office, calling back as he went. "I've signed a contract, which I'll leave at your desk. I have to go back tomorrow morning, so have Nigel come see me at three o'clock so we can work out how to proceed."

"Will do." As Draco opened his office door, Bridgette said, "Oh, and Ms Parkinson is waiting in your office."

And so she was. Most unexpected. And horrifically, inconvenient timing. He plastered on a smile. "Pansy, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

"Oh. My. God! Did I just hear that correctly? You've agreed to work at the Ministry?"

How the bloody hell did she figure that out from what she'd overheard? Draco sighed, knowing there was no point lying to the wench. "Yes, I have."

"What did Potter offer you to get you to do that?"

Again, how the hell did she know? Ignoring her question, he took the contract out of his bag and sent it out to Bridgette's desk. He then made a show of removing his coat, hanging it up and making a pot of tea. Leaving it to steep, he returned to his desk to face a grinning Pansy.

"What?"

"I gave you time to come up with a plausible reason to have taken the job, so out with it. Bridgette told me you'd gone to the Ministry, to which I obviously laughed, insisting you'd never step foot inside that building again. To which she sighed and said that Harry Potter – the Harry Potter – had asked you as a personal favour." She flipped her hair to emphasise the point. "And to my utter horror, she insisted that she was not making that up. Moreover, she said that you'd actually gone. To see Potter." She opened her mouth in feigned shock, doing a piss poor job of hiding her amusement. Bitch. "And then you show up and announce that you've taken the job!"

"I didn't announce anything. I merely told Bridgette and you overheard."

She dismissed his rebuttal with a wave of her hand. "Semantics."

"Was there a reason you showed up here, unannounced? If so, could you get to it, please? I do have work to be getting on with."

She grinned and pointed to a box on Draco's desk. "I come bearing gifts. Freshly baked biscuits!"

Draco snorted. "You baked me biscuits?"

"Don't be ridiculous. Of course I didn't bake them. If you can believe it, I went to a Muggle bakery in London! The shop came highly recommended."

He eyed her suspiciously. "Which one?"

She shrugged and rolled her eyes. "I've already forgotten the name of the place. And okay, I didn't actually go there myself. I mean, really. A Muggle shop? Me? Don't be daft. Anyway, I did pay for them. I just asked Gretchen to pop over and pick up a variety. I heard some customers rave about the place – best Yule logs and pastries in London – and you know my sweet tooth. I just had to try them. So I had her get the details from them and go buy a log cake and a box of biscuits. And I thought, why not get my friend – the one who so graciously agreed to rush an extra order of candles for me – a box as well? And since I know you just love a good chocolate-dipped, voila! Here you go."


He looked inside and moaned. Yes, that's just what he needed. "You're a doll."

She grinned and batted her eyelashes. "Now, about Potter."

He groaned and ran his hand over his face. "Right, since you clearly won't let this go, let me pour myself a cup of tea first. Care for one?"

She nodded. "Please."

Once he'd given Pansy her tea and settled himself in with a biscuit, he braced himself.

"So is Potter as delicious in person these days as he is on camera?"

Draco choked on the biscuit. After a fit of coughing, then a splash of tea to wash the crumbs down, he finally recovered. "What?"

"Oh, come on, Draco. You can't tell me you didn't notice. Was he in uniform?" Her eyes glazed over.

His surreal day had just become more so. He wondered for a moment if he might not have accidentally absorbed some of the hallucinogenic drug from a surface in the lab, and was now living out a drug-induced alternative reality. "Might I remind you this was the man you wanted to hand over to the Dark Lord. And now you're calling him delicious?"

"Oh, darling, that scrawny boy I suggested we hand over – merely to save everyone's life of course – doesn't bare any resemblance to the grown man that is now the head of the MLE."

"His eyes are the same." The words spilled out of his mouth before he could stop them.

The Cheshire cat had nothing on Pansy's grin. "Oh, do tell."

"Oh, do shut up."

She giggled. "Oh, that's you putting me in my place, isn't it?" He glared at her. "So what did Potter give you that made you cave?"

"Nothing." She threw him her pull the other one stare. "I mean nothing beyond a regular contract. Standard conditions, premium pay, blah blah blah."

"So you're actually working for Potter? Oh, my god, I can't wait to tell Blaise."

"I'm not working for Potter, I'm working with him."

"How cosy."

"Oh, don't go reading anything into this. I'm working independently, mainly with the laboratory. I'll consult with the Auror that's working on the case."

"Not Weasley?"

"Fuck no. He's Head Auror. Someone else is on the case."

"So you won't have to deal with him?"

"Not according to Potter. I think he knew it would be a no-go if I had to deal with the weasel."

Pansy seemed satisfied with that. "So where does Potter fit into this?"

"Signs the cheques. Makes decisions."

"So he's your boss." She was getting entirely too much enjoyment out of this.

"No. He is a client. He has hired me to do a job and will pay me well for it. That's all."

She chuckled. "Oh, honey, you keep telling yourself that."

He put his head in his hands and began to rub around his eyes. He could feel a headache coming on. "I know I'm going to regret asking you this, but what the fuck are you going on about?"

"You. Potter. Nothing between the two of you was ever cut and dry. There was always something simmering below the surface."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"You obsessed about him all through school. The two of you watched each other like … well, I thought at the time like enemies, or like predator and prey, but thinking back, I'm not so sure. Stalked each other. Tried to one-up each other every chance you got. I can't tell you how many times the rest of us rolled our eyes when you started on about Potter this and Potter that. God, it was exhausting. And Millicent overheard Weasley telling Potter one time to 'shut up about Malfoy already' so apparently it wasn't just you. And the looks you threw at each other? Like I said, always something simmering beneath the surface. It was a bit unsettling, being your girlfriend and all, for you to pay more attention to him than me."

He took a moment to process all that. He hadn't ever considered … they hadn't … she couldn't be serious. He hadn't paid more attention to Potter than Pansy in school. That was ridiculous. What was she on about? He narrowed his eyes. "Is that why you wanted to hand him over? Because you were jealous?"

"No, I really did want to just have the whole tedious war over and done with, and that seemed the most expeditious path." She took a sip of her tea. "But I wouldn't have been devastated to have your attention on me for a change. Honestly, I don't think I would have been surprised to find the two of you going at it in some broom cupboard at Hogwarts. Shocked, yes. Obviously." She took another sip. "But I don't think I'd have been surprised."

Draco opened his mouth to reply, closed it again. Tried again. How was it that she'd never said a word of this to him before? He let out an exasperated sigh. "I–" What the hell was she talking about anyway? They hated each other in school. "I–"

Smirking, she asked, "Cat got your tongue?" He felt his cheeks redden. She grinned. "Did I put a nice little picture in your mind for when you go see your boss tomorrow morning?"

She had indeed, though she had no idea just how clear a picture it was. "I won't dignify that with a response."

"I bet he'd be wild–"

"Stop! Just … stop. Enough."

She laughed. "Oh, you're no fun. It's only that you told me years ago, should you ever even consider going to work for the Ministry, that I was to remind you why you shouldn't."

Damn it. She was right. He had said that. "And this is the best you could come up with?"

She shrugged. "Seemed like my only option. It's not like I could tell you that you can't trust Potter. Back in the day, maybe not. But he did save your life, multiple times. And testified for you and Narcissa. He's called the Golden Boy for a reason. Hard to turn down a personal request from him. And you said you'll be paid well and you won't be working with Weasley. Seems like any potential problems have been resolved in advance. The only thing left was to remind you of how obsessed you'd been with him in school."

"I was not obsessed with him in school."

She snorted. "Oh, come now. Let's not rewrite history, Draco."

He scrutinised her, looking for any sign she was lying. Then again, she was a Slytherin through and through. She often couldn't lie to him – he knew her too well – but if she were motivated enough, she might be able to pull it off. He saw no tell.

He mumbled, "I hated him. And he hated me."

She tapped his hand like one does when comforting someone. "You keep telling yourself that." She shook her head and got up. "Thanks for the tea. And be careful."

"Careful of what?"

"Of Potter."

What the hell did he have to be afraid of? "You said it yourself, he's the Golden Boy. I can trust him."

"Yes, darling." She kissed his cheeks and turned to go. "But can you trust yourself?"
 
 
 
Sesheta
Title: Second Chance – Chapter Eleven
Author: BERJAYAsesheta_66 || AO3: sesheta_66
Prompts used: BERJAYAslythindor100’s early bird prompt G – Box of Christmas Cards and Other Stationery (picture under the cut) and BERJAYAdracoharry100’s prompts 14: Ice Skating and 25: Christmas Dinner
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 1.8K (this part)
Rating: R (eventually; this part PG)
Warning: none
Summary: This is the second Christmas for Draco without Astoria and Harry's first since Ginny remarried. Will best friends Scorpius and Albus be just what they need to rekindle something they'd thought fleeting and lost forever?
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: Written for the BERJAYAslythindor100 Early Bird 25 Days of Draco and Harry and the BERJAYAdracoharry100 Christmas Challenge.

On LJ: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11

OR on AO3

[Chapter 11]

BERJAYA

Second Chance – Chapter 11


"When do you want me to start?" Draco asked as he picked up the quill and signed the contract.

Harry smiled and relaxed for the first time since Draco had arrived. Once they got past the initial awkwardness, and Harry had assured him that his request was legitimate, it had been fairly straight forward. He'd known Draco would ask for more money and had planned for it. He had enough wiggle room in his own budget to manage even more if he'd had to, but it was a fair contract for both sides. Looking into those steely grey eyes, he noticed them soften ever so slightly. He realised then that they'd both been on edge. When he'd arrived, his eyes had reminded Harry of the Malfoy he'd known at Hogwarts: cold, hard, guarded. Now they reminded him of better times with the man.

Harry took the contract from Draco in a deliberate move to rein in his thoughts, return to the here and now, away from what might have been. He signed it, replicated it and gave Draco the copy. For a minute there, when he'd first come in, Harry didn't think it was going to work out. He knew that Ron didn't like Draco, and figured the feeling was mutual, but he hadn't realised just how much that might have weighed on Draco all these years, particularly as Ron attained gradually higher levels of power. Power that could be used against someone like Draco, if Ron were that sort of person. The sort that Draco saw all around him growing up. The sort like Lucius. Harry wondered if there might be more to Draco's concern than he was letting on. Harry filed it away to think about later. Now wasn't the time to go down that rabbit hole. Now they had a drug manufacturer to catch.

"Well, that's done," he said, placing the signed contract back in it file and standing up. "Why not start now?"

"Now? But I have work –"

Harry chuckled. "Let me show you around now, introduce you to the team in the lab, then leave you to arrange when you might dive in."

Draco thought about his current workload. He hadn't expected to sign a contract and start right away. Truth be told, he hadn't known what to expect. "Okay. I'll have to balance my other obligations as well. I can delegate some of my ongoing work, but I can't work on this full-time."

"I realise that. I was hoping that you could review the material that Drummond has had prepared for you, bring yourself up to speed. Then you can assess where best you could put your skills to work."

"That sounds like a good approach." He frowned. "You know, Potter, this is all a little unnerving."

Harry wondered where that had come from. "How so?"

"It's just –" He paused, scowled, and looked around Harry's office. "When did you become so … efficient? So pragmatic?" He looked puzzled as he continued. "I mean, I suppose everyone matures, but it's strange to imagine the poster boy for Gryffindor bravado and impulsivity being a head of department, leading people, sitting in an elegant office and doing–" He looked at the contract "– paperwork."

Harry laughed. "I wonder about that every day. Not sure when it all happened, to be honest."

Apparently on a roll, Draco continued. "I obviously knew what you'd been up to. It's not like I had any choice in the matter – all of wizarding Britain watched you climb up the ranks over the years. All the fawning news articles."

"They weren't all fawning," Harry said in his defence. He'd always hated being in the news, whether for good or bad reasons. And especially hated when Skeeter was involved, because she made so much shit up it always caused a stir.

Draco ignored that and continued. "But I always took it with a grain of salt – in some instances a cauldron's worth – because I knew you. I knew that you weren't this calm, reasonable, thoughtful leader. You were hot-headed and impulsive. Even when you pretended for the cameras that you weren't." He waved his arm through the air in what appeared to Harry to be frustration. "And now you're hiring me not based on emotions or expediency, but on merit." He sounded exasperated. "Here we are, agreeing to work together, and here you are, being all …"

Harry grinned. "Calm and reasonable?"

"Yes! It's all a bit much to take in."

Harry laughed at that. "Well, imagine my surprise when I was informed that you were the most highly recommended potions expert to work on this case. That spoiled kid who only got good grades in potions because Snape favoured the Slytherins."

Draco gasped in outrage. "I'll have you know I worked for my marks!"

Harry laughed again. "Apparently so. See, I figure neither of us is the boy we'd imagined each other to be. Though, in fairness, impulsive is a good description of me, at least the schoolboy me. And both of us have matured, have come into our own." He paused to let that sink in. "And now we'll have the chance to work together and see each other in a different light, yeah?" Harry thought again about their short time together, when they'd certainly seen a different side of each other, and added, "No matter how unnerving this whole situation is."

"I suppose so."

They went into the outer office, and Harry handed the file folder to Gabi. She smiled and pushed a box of Christmas cards towards him. Shit. He'd been meaning to get to that. He nodded his acknowledgement. "I'll work on those as soon as I return," he assured her. Ignoring her I've heard that before look, he turned to Draco. "Draco Malfoy, this is my assistant, Gabriella. She'll take care of getting you set up with security access and whatever else you might need."

She smiled. "Welcome aboard, Mr Malfoy." She opened the file and glanced over the contract. Satisfied, she said, "I should have all the paperwork filed and access processed by the end of the day. If you'd like to come back here after nine tomorrow morning, I'll have everything you need ready."

"Oh, and Gabi, would you reach out to Amelia and get the briefing material for Draco as well, please?"

"Sure thing." She addressed Draco again. "I'll have it ready for you in the morning with the rest."

Draco nodded. "Thank you. I look forward to seeing you then."

She turned back to Harry. "Department Christmas dinner details should be finalised today as well. Looks like ice skating is a go beforehand." She sounded positively delighted at the prospect.

"Great." Harry forced a smile. He'd never been good at skating. He pretended not to see her grin and the twinkle in her eye. Sometimes he wondered if she was a secret sadist.

They exited the office and made their way to the lifts. "So, Draco, how does it feel now that you've agreed to work here?"

"Surreal. You sure you didn't cast some Auror spell on me to get me to capitulate?"

Harry laughed. "Hadn't thought of that, but I'll keep it in mind for next time."

"There won't be a next time." He looked mildly ill.

Harry slowed his pace, noting Draco's unease, and put a hand on his arm. "It's not too late to back out, you know. I won't lie, I'd be disappointed – frankly I'm half surprised you agreed in the first place – but I meant what I said. No pressure. I can't imagine it's pleasant for you, being back here." Draco shook his head.

Harry remembered his own appearance before the Wizengamot, how helpless he'd felt in front of all those witches and wizards. And that had only been for breaking the Statute of Secrecy. "I can relate."

"Can you now?" Incredulity dripped off Draco's words.

Harry nodded. "My only experiences in this place before I came to work here were escaping expulsion, arrest and death. I had to attend a hearing in front of the full Wizengamot before the start of fifth year, when Umbridge tried to have me expelled after sicking some Dementors on me over the summer. Then there was the complete shit show at the Department of Mysteries at the end of fifth year." He left out the details, given that the Death Eaters, including Draco's father, had tried to kill Harry's friends, Draco's aunt did kill Harry's godfather, and Voldemort had possessed him in order to get Dumbledore to kill him. "Then when Ron, Hermione and I broke in during what should have been our seventh year – I was Undesireable Number One you may recall – we barely escaped with our lives, and Ron got splinched in the process. So … not the best memories, no."

Draco's jaw dropped and his mouth hung open. When he recovered, he tilted his head slightly to the side, as though Harry were something to be studied. "You never said. I mean, after the war. I've obviously heard stories, read articles, but you never know what to believe and what was just to sell books or newspapers. You never mentioned all the stuff you went through."

Harry raised a brow. "As I recall, we didn't really talk much." Draco's cheeks flushed, reminding Harry very much of what they had got up to. With what amounted to Herculean self-control, he resisted the urge to go further down that road, however tempting it was. "Besides, what would have been the point of bringing up unpleasantness? It was all over by then. In the past. I was trying really hard to look ahead, not back."

Draco continued to scrutinise Harry. "And yet, after all the unpleasantness you still came to work here?"

Harry pressed the button for the lift and shrugged. "I did indeed. Came here for training, then to work, and above all, to clean the place up. Not just me, of course, but yeah. We were determined to weed out the corruption that had infested this place, from top to bottom. All in all, I think we did a pretty good job. You can't catch everything, but we did alright."

"Seems like you did well for yourself."

Harry smiled. "I think so. And it looks like you did as well. Could you have imagined the two of us being where we are today back when we were in school?"

"For a while there, I couldn't imagine surviving beyond my teens."

Harry took a deep breath, letting that sink in. "You and me both."

The lift opened and they went inside, remaining silent all the way to the lab.
 
 
Sesheta
Title: Second Chance – Chapter Ten
Author: BERJAYAsesheta_66 || AO3: sesheta_66
Prompts used: BERJAYAslythindor100’s early bird prompt J—Snow-covered Shops at Night (picture under the cut) and BERJAYAdracoharry100’s prompt 22: Gift wrapping
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 2.5K (this part)
Rating: R (eventually; this part PG)
Warning: none
Summary: This is the second Christmas for Draco without Astoria and Harry's first since Ginny remarried. Will best friends Scorpius and Albus be just what they need to rekindle something they'd thought fleeting and lost forever?
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: Written for the BERJAYAslythindor100 Early Bird 25 Days of Draco and Harry and the BERJAYAdracoharry100 Christmas Challenge.

On LJ: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10

OR on AO3

[Chapter 10]

BERJAYA

Second Chance – Chapter 10


Somehow Draco made it through Ministry headquarters to Potter's office without incident – no altercations with anyone, no weasel sightings, no vomiting in the lift as he recalled the last time he'd entered the building. All in all, not bad.

Before he'd had a chance to announce himself to Potter's assistant, the man himself came out to greet him. "Draco! Good to see you. Come on in." Potter motioned for him to enter, a smile that looked genuine on his face. He turned to his assistant. "No interruptions, please."

Potter closed the door as Draco sat in the guest chair, which was surprisingly comfortable. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting – something stiff and unpleasant to put visitors on edge, perhaps? – but this was not unlike his own sitting room chairs at home. And the office was befitting a head of department: mahogany desk, dark wood floors and panelling with high-end carpet and drapes. A casual seating area with sofa, table and chairs sat at the far end of the room, and displayed above a fireplace opposite were numerous awards. Conspicuous in their absence were any pictures of Potter with important people, something of a mainstay for people in high positions. On his desk were pictures of his children, and in a cabinet behind him were odds and ends – some dark magic detectors, more pictures of family and friends, and for some reason a snitch. In a word, it was inviting.

"Thanks for coming," Potter said. And Draco was immediately reminded why he was here. His comfort at entering the inner sanctum vanished, replaced by all his negative thoughts.

"Did I have a choice?" The words came out so sharply, Potter blinked and pulled back slightly, his warm smile disappearing. Draco hadn't meant to be rude, but … well, old habits he supposed.

Potter recovered quickly, though wore a perplexed expression. "Of course you had a choice. I didn't have you arrested and dragged down here kicking and screaming."

Draco thought Weasley might have enjoyed that, and pictured himself struggling with the man. He scowled. "Weasley isn't behind this, is he? Because I know he'd love nothing more than to see me in Azkaban for the rest of my life."

Potter frowned. "Ron has nothing to do with this. In fact, if I'm being honest, he's not particularly thrilled that I'm meeting with you."

"So why do it then?"

"I thought I'd explained in my letter."

"Yes, but why me? There are any number of potions masters you could have called on."

"You were recommended, as I mentioned."

"Right. And then how could I say no to a request for a 'personal favour' from the head of the MLE? Someone to whom I owe a life debt."

Potter's eyes narrowed and Draco could tell he was getting under the man's skin. Well, good. He didn't want to be here, in this building. Too many bad memories. "I didn't ask for a favour as the head of MLE. I asked for a personal favour. I don't play political or power games, Draco. You should know that. Or at least I thought you would. And as for this supposed life debt, I told your mother years ago that there is no debt. We are even. We all did what we felt we had to do during the war, and it worked out that we ended up helping each other. No one owes anyone anything. If you don't want to help with this case, you can say no. No one is forcing you to be here."

Before he could stop the words escaping his mouth, Draco blurted out, "So why haven't you responded to Scorpius' invitation to Albus?"

Potter shook his head, brows furrowed, utterly perplexed. "What?!"

"Scorpius asked if Albus could stay for a few days over the break, and I said yes, provided he had his parents' permission. I have yet to hear back. I can only presume that is because the answer is no."

Potter stood up and began to pace. When he stopped, he took a deep breath as if to will himself to remain calm, then sat down, placing his arms on his desk and leaning forward. He looked calmer and, if Draco wasn't mistaken, amused. "Let me get this straight. First of all, you thought this was all some sort of ruse to lure you here, set you up, and throw you into prison. Masterminded by Ron, with me as his accomplice?" He tapped his finger on his chin and continued before Draco could respond. "You do realise that I have the entire department at my disposal, have for years. And Ron is Head Auror. If anything nefarious would have been in the offing, I'd think we'd have acted long before now. Patience has never been my thing, if you recall."

Run in without thinking and figure it out later had been more his style, that was true. When Potter put it that way, it did sound rather ridiculous.

"And as for Albus, are you suggesting that I am withholding permission for my son to visit with his friend, in order to coerce you into working with me?" He stared into Draco's eyes intensely as he spoke. "Need I remind you that I grew up without friends? You did know that about me, yeah? Of course you knew; everybody bloody knew. Cousin bullied anyone that so much as spoke to me. The last thing I would do to my children is use them for my own ends, and certainly not deny them time with their friends. I would have thought you knew me at least a little better than that."

"I –" Well, fuck. Yes, he did, in fact, know Potter better than that.

"For your information, Al hasn't asked me to visit with Scorpius. This is the first I've heard." He considered the new information before continuing. "I presume he's going to ask me in person, since I'll be seeing him in Hogsmeade on Saturday." At Draco's quizzical look, he waved his hand in the air and explained, "My kids are going away with Gin and her new husband at the beginning of the break, so we won't have our usual shopping day. Not wanting to go at the last minute, Al asked if we could meet up to pick up a few things."

Draco thought about his own shopping trips with Scorpius. They always enjoyed staying in town well into the evening, having dinner and then taking a stroll, enjoying the light displays on all the snow-covered shops. And later on, wrapping the gifts together, listening to Christmas carols. He wondered briefly what it would be like to be divorced, having to divide all your children's time – hard enough to come by, particularly as they got older – between both parents. Having to share that precious time with someone you no longer loved, but to whom you were bound forever. He didn't envy Potter that.

"I suspect, if he had any doubts as to my answer, he was hoping to appeal to me face-to-face." He looked Draco straight in the eyes and smirked. "He is in Slytherin, you know. Very sneaky, that lot."

Tension now broken, Draco laughed at that last remark. "They are a handful, I hear."

Potter smiled and pushed back in his chair. "Right. Let's start this again. And this time, do shut up."

Draco had a retort at the ready, but then shut his mouth, nodded and sat back.

"Good. Let's refresh. We have a case that is going nowhere fast. Our in-house potions expert retired earlier this year, and in their infinite wisdom, the Ministry have chosen not to revisit the pay scale to hire a proper replacement. So here we are. We have great staff in the lab, but their expertise only goes so far. Mungo's has been treating the overdose cases, so they are familiar with the drug and have been working on treatments. They're doing their best, but they have no antidote and have also gone as far as they can for now, with their current workload."

"What does the drug do?"

"Nasty stuff. It's a hallucinogen, appealing to kids, particularly popular at raves. Claims to be an upgrade to gillyweed. That's bad enough, but the real problem is that for some the high lasts twelve hours or more, with hallucinations driving some of them mad. We'll provide you with all the details later, if you decide to work with us. In a nutshell, we have two directions we need to go in. Mungo's needs to figure out a cure and we need to catch the bastard that's creating it. My priority is obviously the latter, to ensure we get the drug off the streets and the culprit into prison. Ideally a cure is found, but what I need from you is to help determine who the hell is doing this. I'm not sure what, if anything, you can do to assist in that regard, but when our investigator spoke with Mungo's, they said you were the best there was at analysing and adapting potions.

"That is why I contacted you. Our past – all of it – is irrelevant to this case. Kids are stupid and reckless, Draco. You and I know that better than most. I don't want to see any more get hurt. So if you are the best, and I've been told you are, I want you working this case. But in no way are you obligated to.

"As for the personal favour, I meant exactly that. Very much voluntary. I want to catch this bastard. We'll pay you a fair rate. I have my own budget constraints, but I've got the numbers from the most recent contracts we've had, and I'm offering you 25% above the top rate, in recognition of your expertise, and the urgent nature of the request."

Draco sat dumbfounded. His brain needed a minute to catch up. "For how long?" was all he could ask.

"We'd like you to start straight away, and continue until the case is solved, or we reach a stage where our own lab can finish off the work. You'd have access to our lab, and St Mungo's has said they'd work with you as needed." He reached into his desk and pulled out a file. "I've had a contract drafted for you to look at." He handed Draco the contract and got up. "I'll leave you to review it in private and will return in a few minutes. If you need more time to consider the offer, that's fine, but I'll need an answer today. If you don't want to work with the Ministry, or me, I understand. But if that's the case, I'll need to reach out to someone else sooner rather than later."

Draco nodded and Potter left.

He reviewed the contract. Standard boilerplate. Nothing of concern. The compensation was reasonable, though he thought he could push for a bit more, all things considered. They were under pressure, after all. Standard non-disclosure. Security clearance required. Draco's heart raced at that. Was he being too trusting? Was this a ploy? He knew it was standard practice, certainly since the war, to insist on such things for any contractor, but it would provide an opportunity for Weasley to pry.

When he returned, Potter asked, "Did you have enough time to review it? Do you have any questions?"

"I did, thanks. The contract is in order, standard conditions. Regarding the security clearance –"

"Oh, that's already done. You're cleared to work here."

"What?" He hadn't agreed to that. "You did that already?"

"I'm the head of MLE, Draco. Of course I did, as I would do with anyone I'm considering offering a contract to. I created that requirement for the Ministry myself, as part of weeding out the rampant corruption. I can't be seen as breaking the very rule I created, can I now? Anything else?"

Draco suppressed his irritation at being investigated without his knowledge. If he were in Potter's position, he knew he'd have done the same. No point wasting time talking to someone that you can't hire in the end. "The compensation is adequate, but I believe an additional 5% is appropriate, plus expenses."

Potter pulled the contract towards him, scribbled the required changes and initialled it. "Done. Anything else?"

Well, that was easy. Perhaps he should have gone for more. Ah, well, too late now. "If I'm to work with the Ministry, to whom would I report?" That was the sticky part. Weasley was the head of the Auror Department. There weren't enough Galleons in the world for Draco to work with him.

Potter contemplated for a moment. "You mean, do you report to Ron?" Before Draco could express just what he thought of that, Potter added, "Fuck, no. You'll be working independently, but in collaboration with the lab on the most part. You can report your findings, ask any questions, and consult on the progress of the case with our lead investigator, Drummond. Final reports go through him, but ultimately if a decision is required, or if there are any questions or concerns that he can't answer or address, that comes to me. And he may ask you to provide updates jointly with him to me or at our regular team meetings, if he isn't comfortable enough to speak to specifics. And, of course, you can come to me with anything, as needed."

That all sounded reasonable. Which begged the question, why did he feel a sense of disappointment that Potter hadn't planned to work more directly with him? He chose not to explore that. Focus on the positive instead. "So no Weasley?"

Potter smirked at that. "No Weasley."

Draco wondered whose decision that had been. Well, no, it had obviously been Potter's, but how had the weasel taken it?

"Oh, and Draco?" Potter asked, interrupting his train of thought.

"Hmm?"

"Of course Albus can stay with Scorpius over the hols. No matter if you sign on with us or not. We can work out specifics closer to the time, once we figure out our shared schedule."

Draco smiled. Scorpius would be very happy to hear that. Then his brain registered the shared schedule. Of course. "And what about Ginevra? What will she have to say?"

Potter shrugged. "She's taking the kids to Majorca. If she has a problem with it, she can take it up with me later. But in the meantime, don't say anything to Scorpius."

"Why not?"

"I want to see what Al is cooking up, if anything." Draco laughed. Potter wasn't nearly as stupid as he'd thought back in school. Probably even earned his current position. "I'll let you know after I talk to him this weekend."

With that, the last of Draco's concerns had been eliminated. He picked up the quill on Potter's desk and dipped in into the ink. Fucking hell, he was really going to do this. "When do you want me to start?"

Potter smiled, his green eyes drawing Draco in. Those same green eyes that had drawn him in twenty years before. As his heart began to race, he had to look away. He initialled the changes Potter made and signed the document. Bloody hell, it was a good thing that he wouldn't have to work with the man every day. He doubted he could focus if he did.
 
 
 
Sesheta
18 December 2025 @ 04:00 pm
Title: Second Chance – Chapter Nine
Author: BERJAYAsesheta_66 || AO3: sesheta_66
Prompts used: BERJAYAslythindor100’s early bird prompt M – Wooden Reindeer Ornament (picture under the cut) and BERJAYAdracoharry100’s prompts 21: Tinsel and 23: Icicle lights
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 1.7K (this part)
Rating: R (eventually; this part PG)
Warning: none
Summary: This is the second Christmas for Draco without Astoria and Harry's first since Ginny remarried. Will best friends Scorpius and Albus be just what they need to rekindle something they'd thought fleeting and lost forever?
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: Written for the BERJAYAslythindor100 Early Bird 25 Days of Draco and Harry and the BERJAYAdracoharry100 Christmas Challenge.

On LJ: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25

OR on AO3

[Chapter 9]

BERJAYA

Second Chance – Chapter 9


Draco woke after a fitful sleep, his mind on his upcoming meeting with Potter. Or, rather, his mind on twenty years ago, after the war, after the trials.

That day in Diagon Alley when Potter had swooped in and scared off that crowd. He'd been so angry at Potter, so embarrassed, and, truth be told, scared. Draco'd had a wand and could certainly have used it, but Potter had been right: there were too many people that wanted to see him locked up – Potter's best friend, for instance. So what does Weasley think of Potter calling him now? And was Draco expected to deal with him? Surely not. The oaf was Head Auror now. All sorts of scenarios had run through his mind as he tried to fall asleep. Was this a set-up? Was Weasley going to use the opportunity to fabricate something – or possibly reopen something – and get him thrown in prison?

Surely Potter wouldn't do that to him, not after testifying for him, and single-handedly ensuring Draco hadn't gone to Azkaban after the war. And not after …

So then Draco's mind jumped to the events after that confrontation in Diagon Alley. Potter had invited him to join him for lunch. He'd been taken by complete surprise, still shaking after being surrounded by those idiots, and he'd quietly followed. His first thought as they entered was that someone had vomited tinsel and icicle lights all over the place. Probably a good thing, since no one seemed to notice them enter together. Then once they'd sat down, Draco had fixated on a wooden reindeer ornament in the window of the pub, mulling over the events of the day, wondering how awkward this lunch was going to be. Then, much to his surprise – and he imagined Potter's surprise too – they'd had a pleasant time. Had spent close to two hours together without a single insult thrown by either of them. He couldn't recall all the details of their conversation, only that it had not been about the war or Voldemort or Dumbledore or Snape. Or, thank Merlin, Draco's father.

Potter had been accepted into the Auror program – of course he had – as had the weasel, and they were to start soon. They got to bypass their seventh year of school and enter directly after the war. Though Draco had been annoyed at the continuing special treatment Potter had been afforded, he couldn't argue that he'd earned it this time. As for the weasel, Draco had his doubts, but he supposed being Potter's sidekick had its perks. Apparently, though, Granger had opted to return to school.

Draco recalled leaving for home that day thinking that Potter wasn't so bad. Yes, the man had helped both Draco and his mother escape prison, but Draco had still maintained that he was, on the whole, a more-brave-than-smart poster boy for the Ministry. A lucky idiot who'd been propped up by Dumbledore and the ill-informed, fawning public, all eager to make the most of any opportunity to be even tangentially part of the Boy-Who-Lived-to-Make-Draco's-Life-Hell's camp. And while their lunch all those years ago hadn't wiped all that clean – a lifetime of holding a view about someone isn't so easily changed – he recalled having the feeling that he was just another bloke.

And that had been the beginning of the most surreal six-week period of Draco's life. They'd gone from literal enemies on the battlefield to … whatever the hell they'd become.

They'd always been far more than acquaintances, even from the start. Growing up in the wizarding world when Draco had, every child knew about Harry Potter; many like Draco had even heard fantasy tales about how he must be so powerful – how else could he have survived Voldemort's attack? – that he was sure to be the next Dark Lord. Then to have met the boy and had his offer of friendship, however obnoxiously presented, rebuffed in favour of the weasel, had set the course of their lives. In retrospect, Draco knew now that every stupid thing he'd done against Potter over the years had gone back to that moment. Yes, he'd idolised his father, as boys do, and had genuinely believed they'd been on the right side of things. Yes, the idea of being on the winning side, the powerful side, had been intoxicating. But with Potter specifically, everything had been personal. He'd needed to prove to Potter, at every opportunity, that he'd made the wrong choice back then.

Fast forward nearly eight years and, at long last, he'd been at a table with Potter. Just two blokes talking. Key had been the absence of the ever-present red-headed oaf. And they hadn't been, as had been their tradition, at each other's throats. Until, a couple of weeks into this newly established camaraderie, they had been. Quite literally. Only in an entirely different and more pleasant way.

Draco had clearly fallen into an alternate universe. True, he'd always been more inclined towards men than women, but Potter? Who'd have thought that was even possible? And even if you had thought it within the remotest of possibilities, the picture of Perfect Potter with Draco? Never. Not possible. And yet there they were.

He'd finally fallen asleep, remembering their time together, feeling the last twenty years of his life slip away and take him back in time.

He'd woken still thinking of Potter, trying his best to shake off those memories before walking into the Ministry of Magic to meet with the man about work, of all things.

After about six weeks, having kept their whatever it was a secret, they'd both come to their senses and moved on with their lives. It had been a wild ride, but the reality of the Chosen One with a former Death Eater, however minor in the ranks, would have bitten them both in the arse sooner or later, and after all they'd been through, neither of them had had the stomach for that. So, Harry and the weasel's younger sister got back together, Draco began to date Daphne Greengrass' younger sister, and eventually they each married the women they were meant to marry.

He and Astoria had grown to love each other, the kind of love borne out of respect, friendship and appreciation, if not passion. True, they'd had a perfectly acceptable physical relationship, and Draco had known what he'd been giving up when he'd decided to marry. She'd become his best friend, his partner in every sense of the word, and when she died, he'd found himself truly at a loss. They'd been in it together, for better or worse, and then he was alone. And at complete and utter loose ends.

He was 42 years old, single, and wholly uninterested in dating. He was a young man, certainly by wizarding standards, and he had more than half his life in front of him. Scorpius was in school, leaving him with work and not much else. He didn't go out socially, unless you counted visits to his mother at the manor or occasional dinners with friends. Narcissa had attempted to nudge him in the direction of eligible witches, but he was able to brush those suggestions aside. To her credit, she didn't push back, except to point out that his first marriage had turned out magnificently. He couldn't argue that point, but had maintained his stance. It was, after all, less than two years since she'd passed.

He needed time to get used to living by himself. Getting to know himself, not just as a husband and a father, but as a man. Something he'd not done in his youth. He'd gone from spoiled brat to entitled youth to petrified teen to married man, all without really considering what it was he'd wanted from life. Not to question his choices; after all, informed or not, he'd made those choices himself. And life had turned out alright. He'd had a wonderful marriage, if short, and he had a great son in Scorpius.

Why had he agreed to meet with Potter? What was he thinking? He couldn't work with Weasley; he wasn't even sure he could work with Potter. And he'd never wanted to work for the Ministry, had made damn sure he hadn't. Over the years, they had approached him on several occasions, but he'd always turned them down. He had no desire to even enter the building again.

But then Potter happened. After all these years, how was it that the man could get under Draco's skin with just one owl and a well placed request for a "personal favour"? Draco was quickly working himself into a state. He reasoned that Potter would not, in fact, do something like set Draco up for a fall. Weasley, on the other hand, wouldn't hesitate. Draco was sure of it. He hadn't done anything overt over the years, but any time Draco had run into the man – thankfully not often – he'd made snide remarks, given Draco dirty looks, and back when Scorpius had first started Hogwarts, he'd even tried to turn his daughter against Scorpius. Allegedly.

It must have come as a shock to the weasel and his sister when her son had befriended Scorpius. More than that, the two were inseparable. That petty little part of Draco that still resided deep within him did appreciate that. He wondered how Potter felt about it. Scorpius hadn't said anything, so as far as Draco knew, it was only Albus' uncle who had a problem with Scorpius. But now that he thought about it, he hadn't heard back about Albus coming to stay over the holidays. Perhaps his parents didn't want him to.

Draco tried to calm his thoughts over a cup of Earl Grey but it didn't have its usual effect. Resigned to his fate, he left for the Ministry in what he would describe as not the best frame of mind. All he needed now was to run into the weasel on his way to Potter's office.
 
 
 
Sesheta
11 December 2025 @ 03:08 pm
Title: Second Chance – Chapter Eight
Author: BERJAYAsesheta_66 || AO3: sesheta_66
Prompts used: BERJAYAslythindor100’s early bird prompt Y—Nutcrackers and Other Festive Figurines (picture under the cut) and BERJAYAdracoharry100’s prompt 7: Nutcracker
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 1.4K (this part)
Rating: R (eventually; this part PG)
Warning: none
Summary: This is the second Christmas for Draco without Astoria and Harry's first since Ginny remarried. Will best friends Scorpius and Albus be just what they need to rekindle something they'd thought fleeting and lost forever?
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: Written for the BERJAYAslythindor100 Early Bird 25 Days of Draco and Harry and the BERJAYAdracoharry100 Christmas Challenge.

On LJ: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

OR on AO3

[Chapter 8]

BERJAYA

Second Chance – Chapter 8


Harry arrived at the office early, wanting to get some paperwork out of the way before the day really began. Fortunately, Ron hadn't returned to the office yesterday, which meant he hadn't yet heard about Draco. Harry suspected he'd be getting an earful, so he might as well accomplish something before the shit hit the fan.

Draco's reply had come just as he was leaving for the day, and Harry wasn't sure what to make of it. He'd been direct and professional, and yet …

Harry had spent half the night thinking about the man – not good, if they were going to have a professional relationship. Relationship. Bloody hell. Any kind of relationship with Draco was bound to be a problem. For sure with Ron, but even without that looming.

Their past had been tricky, but had become exponentially so after the war. Narcissa and Draco had both sent owls expressing their gratitude, Harry had replied, and he had thought that had been the end of it. Then Narcissa had sent another owl, spewing some nonsense about a life debt and that he could call upon them at any time.

After seven years, Harry thought he'd seen everything there was to see about the wizarding world – how mistaken he had been – and was floored by this seemingly open-ended offer. He'd replied at once, directly and emphatically insisting that he had done nothing to warrant such an offer or debt. They had each acted to help him, for whatever reason, during the war, and he had done nothing more than tell the Wizengamot the truth. He was owed nothing. They had all helped one another and that was that.

It had taken a few days, but eventually Narcissa had replied, once more thanking Harry, and wishing him well. Done.

And then, a few weeks later, Harry had been in Diagon Alley, looking at a Christmas display case filled with nutcrackers, thinking that he would like to get one for Teddy, when he'd heard a disturbance. Draco was being forced out of a shop at wandpoint, told he had no business shopping there. And a crowd had formed, surrounding him, manhandling him, clearly itching to do more. Harry hadn't hesitated – of course he hadn't; when had he ever thought before acting? He'd walked up to the crowd, who had disbursed at his approach. All but one. He'd sneered at Harry, "Going to come rescue your bitch again?"

Harry had laughed. He couldn't help it. The pathetic excuse for a man was a joke. "Actually, I'm thinking more along the lines of saving you from yourself. These are post-war times, and attacking random people on the street is frowned upon these days. Best be getting along, now."

"He's no random bloke."

Harry had grinned as menacingly as he could. "You've got that right. He's been trained by Voldemort. You might want to check your wand at the door before messing with him." The crowd that he'd been with vanished at the utterance of the name. Harry grinned again. "Looks like your posse has deserted you. Whatever will you do?"

He'd scampered. Obviously.

Then Draco had turned on Harry. "What did you do that for? I could have handled myself!"

"I know you could have. But I thought you might not have, given the number of people, including Aurors, that would like to see you in a cage. And if you had handled yourself it's not implausible that you would have ended up exactly there."

"What's it to you, Potter?"

Harry'd closed the distance between them and put a finger to his chin. "Let's see. I'm entering Auror training soon, I testified on your behalf, and Ron isn't speaking to me as a result. You're welcome, by the way." Draco had glared at that. "I'd really rather not prove Ron right. So let's just say I was protecting my reputation. Don't want people to think I'd misjudged someone so badly that he'd landed himself in prison mere weeks after I'd testified."

Draco hadn't known what to say, and instead had stood there with his mouth open. "Since your mouth is open," Harry mused, "care to put something in it?" Malfoy's face had gone as scarlet as Harry's Gryffindor robes, and only then did he realise what he'd said. "Food, Malfoy. Perhaps a beverage."

"What?"

"I haven't eaten, and was planning to head to the pub and grab lunch. Care to join me?"

Not sure if he'd gone along because he'd been utterly gobsmacked at the invitation, was still recovering from whatever the hell he'd thought Harry had been suggesting, or because he was hungry, Harry hadn't asked, and Draco hadn't said. But he'd gone along, all the same.

"What the ever loving fuck?" Ron's voice interrupted Harry's thoughts. He barged in, slammed the door and stood glaring at Harry.

Harry chuckled. "I take it you've spoken with Drummond?"

"Yes, I've spoken with Drummond, and I'm not working with that ferret."

Harry suppressed a grin as he remembered fourth year and not-Mad-Eye turning Draco into a ferret. "No one is asking you to work with him."

"And Drummond won't be working with him either."

"Ron, sit down."

"I won't sit down! You can't do this!"

Harry stood. "You will sit down and you will stop screaming at me like a deranged lunatic. Need I remind you that in this place, in my office, I am your boss."

Ron looked like he was about to yell some more, took a moment to process Harry's words, then sat down, glaring mutinously. "He's a fucking tosser and my team won't be working with him."

"Your team, including you, will work with whomever I say they will work with. Ron opened his mouth to argue but Harry put up his hand to stop him. "Relax, I am not asking you, or telling you, to work with him. He'll be working with the lab, on the most part. If he works with anyone at all – and it's a big 'if'. He hasn't agreed, and I haven't signed him on. He's due here at ten."

Ron looked at the clock and seemed to consider his options. "But you're going to, if he agrees?"

"Yes." Ron spluttered, but Harry cut him off. "He's been highly recommended. He's worked with Mungo's a lot, apparently, and they said he's the best there is."

"But it's Malfoy!"

Harry frowned, wondering when Ron would ever move on. "I don't give a damn who it is, as long as he can help us catch this bastard before more kids die. And that should be your priority too."

Ron took his time replying. Through gritted teeth, he said, "Fine. But I don't have to like it."

Harry didn't care if Ron liked it or not, so long as they caught the guy. But he didn't need any friction interfering with the case. He'd thought about the situation last night, and had decided on the best approach to deal with things. "And even if he agrees, I don't see that there will be a need for you to deal with him directly. He can work with Drummond on the case, and with the lab on specifics. And if approval is required for anything, he can come to me."

Ron's ears went red and Harry could tell he was weighing his authority over the Aurors against having to deal with Malfoy. In the end, reason prevailed. "Fine. Just let me know if the two of you come to an agreement, and I'll pass the information along to Drummond."

Ron left and Harry took a few deep breaths. He hadn't had to wield his authority with Ron often over the years. They'd both worked together for so long, and Ron was all too happy to let Harry deal with all the politics of the job, it didn't pose any problems. Harry respected Ron's opinion and welcomed his input – as he welcomed constructive input from anyone – and in the end, if they couldn't come to the same opinion, they'd agree to disagree. And Harry had the last call.

But this wasn't constructive criticism. It wasn't constructive anything at all. So Harry pushed back. He didn't like it, but he'd be damned if anyone under his command was going to add roadblocks to an already frustrating case.

He looked at the clock. Forty-five minutes before Draco was due to arrive. And too early for a Firewhisky. But, happily, time enough for a cup of tea. He just hoped Ron would stay in his own office.
 
 
 
Sesheta
09 December 2025 @ 05:02 pm
Title: Second Chance – Chapter Seven
Author: BERJAYAsesheta_66 || AO3: sesheta_66
Prompts used: BERJAYAslythindor100’s early bird prompt A: Frosted Willow (picture under the cut) and BERJAYAdracoharry100’s prompt 12: Christmas Novelty Gifts
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 1.4K (this part)
Rating: R (eventually; this part PG)
Warning: none
Summary: This is the second Christmas for Draco without Astoria and Harry's first since Ginny remarried. Will best friends Scorpius and Albus be just what they need to rekindle something they'd thought fleeting and lost forever?
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: Written for the BERJAYAslythindor100 Early Bird 25 Days of Draco and Harry and the BERJAYAdracoharry100 Christmas Challenge.

On LJ: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

OR on AO3

[Chapter 7]

BERJAYA

Second Chance – Chapter 7


Draco decided to go into the office late, taking a detour to visit Pansy at her shop to deliver the candle.

As expected, she loved it and asked for an initial order of a hundred boxes. "I have a feeling they'll sell out quickly. Is there a chance you can handle that and another delivery before Christmas, if need be?"

"I don't think that should be a problem."

"Fabulous!" She kissed him on the cheek. "Now let's go out for lunch to celebrate. It's on me. We can go to that Spanish place around the corner and have tapas."

Draco agreed and they bundled up for the walk. They passed a park along the way and she pointed to a tree, laden with ice. "Ooh, it looks so pretty!"

He shivered as he pulled up the collar of his coat. "Looks cold." Unseasonably so for early December.

She slapped him playfully on the arm. "It's festive."

"I suppose."

"The more festive the weather, the more business I get."

"Ah, of course. It looks pretty for your pocketbook. Ever the business woman."

She winked. "You know, you could make a fortune doing those candles. Though I do rather like the exclusivity of my little shop having the only supply."

He laughed. "Don't worry. I won't be selling to anyone else, Parkinson."

"Zabini."

"Yeah, yeah. You'll always be Parkinson to me. And this is a one-time thing."

"Surely you can't mean that? You could expand to other Christmas novelty gifts. You could come up with different versions for different holidays. We could make a lot of galleons. I don't know why we haven't done this before."

He laughed again. She was certainly enthusiastic about it. "We haven't done this before because I never let you talk me into it before."

"But you did this time, and look at the result!"

"Moment of weakness. I can assure you that it won't happen again." She pouted. "Besides, I don't need the galleons."

"Must be nice not to have to work."

"True, but I do like to work. Keeps me honest."

"Ugh. What has become of you?"

He grinned. "I have matured, unlike some of our cohort."

"Spoilsport."

As they ate their lunch, he realised that she wasn't wrong on that part. He hadn't done much of anything resembling what his younger self would have considered fun since the war – certainly not anything bordering on illegal. What a difference a war made. They'd all had to grow up pretty fast. And after what they'd gone through, and his narrow escape from a lifetime in prison, he'd thought it prudent to stay on the straight and narrow. Too many Aurors would jump at the chance to throw him in Azkaban for the slightest mishap. No, he valued his freedom too much, thanks.

Astoria had agreed. Being Slytherins, they'd been educated to use any means possible to get ahead, rules and laws be damned. Sure, don't do anything outright – subtlety was key – but don't concern yourself too much with pesky things such as legality. But after the war, the public had been out for blood. Anyone that had been cleared was still looked upon with suspicion, if not outright contempt. Best to just keep their heads down, do nothing to draw attention, donate regularly to charity – particularly ones that garnered public attention – and live your life.

Then they'd had Scorpius, and any lingering temptations had disappeared. He would do nothing that would cast aspersions on his son. He'd been Lucius Malfoy's son, and how had that served him? He'd been a spoiled child, made to believe he was superior to most, by virtue of his birth. But he'd learned soon enough that power was fleeting, and all the money in the world couldn't buy you a decent reputation. No, that had to be earned.

As he walked through the lab towards his office that afternoon, he looked at all that he had built, pleased that he had indeed earned it.

A short time later, a soft tap came at his door and Draco looked up to see Bridgette looking uncharacteristically hesitant. "Um."

Noticing an official looking piece of parchment in her hand, he raised a brow. "Something wrong?"

"Oh, no. Nothing wrong at all." She waved the parchment in the air. "Just a letter from the Ministry, asking for your assistance."

He scowled. "So you write back, as is our standard practice, telling them to stick it up their collective arse, in that very professional manner you have. I don't work for the Ministry."

"Well." She looked down at the letter, then back to Draco, then back down.

"What is it, Bridgette? Have they offered me a million galleons or something?"

"Well, no, but --"

"Well, then, respond as usual, please."

"But this one's from Harry Potter, sir. He's asking for a --" She made a point of adjusting the paper and looking down at it again "-- a personal favour."

Oh, for fuck's sake. "Fine. Give it here, and I'll respond myself."

Looking relieved, she handed him the paper and went back to her desk.

What the hell did Potter want from him? He glanced at the paper. Ministry letterhead, Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Sure enough, the signature line read, "Mr. Harry Potter, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," signed simply, "Harry".

Hello Draco,

It's been a long time.


Draco scowled at the letter as though it had personally offended him. Well, there's an understatement. It's been twenty years, give or take. And the last time we spoke …

He went back to the letter, determined not to rehash the past.

It's been a long time. I trust all is well with you.

I'll get right to the point. I don't know if you've heard in the news, but we are currently investigating a series of drug overdoses affecting young people, some of whom have died. It is crucial to determine who is manufacturing this drug and get them off the streets, along with any remaining product.

Our laboratory has reached an impasse in their analysis and we are in need of expert assistance. We reached out to St Mungo's (they've treated a number of the cases, and have knowledge of the investigation) and they recommended your services.

I don't know how you feel about working for the Ministry, after everything, but I would consider it a personal favour if you would at least think about it. Obviously, this is a matter of urgency, so I would appreciate a response today.

Hoping we can meet to discuss terms. I'll be in the office all morning tomorrow, if you're available.

Harry


Draco stared at the page for a long while, his mind drifting back to the Ministry, the courtroom, all those years ago. His stomach flipped at the memory, so long tucked away.

Potter had been there too. Had testified. Had been the only thing keeping Draco from a lifetime in prison, like his father. Likely the only thing keeping his mother from a prison sentence too. He'd wondered when Potter would call in his card, reach out for something in return.

Years had gone by, and he never had. Draco had thought the matter done after so long. Had thought Potter might actually have meant it when he'd told Narcissa that they were even now, that there was no debt to be paid. But now here he was, asking for Draco's help. Perhaps he'd only meant Narcissa, when he'd said that, and not Draco. After all, Draco had done so many things that had affected Potter and those around him, things Draco had lived to regret.

He supposed it was fair. He read the letter again. Yes, Potter was making it perfectly clear – "I would consider it a personal favour" – that Draco couldn't say no. Bloody hell.

He picked up a quill and scribbled out a note, addressed to the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

Potter,

I'll see you at your office at ten o'clock tomorrow morning.

DL Malfoy


As he watched the owl fly off into the distance, he wondered what the hell he was going to say to Potter after all these years. And after all that had happened, just how awkward was that going to be?
 
 
Sesheta
08 December 2025 @ 10:12 pm
Title: Second Chance – Chapter Six
Author: BERJAYAsesheta_66 || AO3: sesheta_66
Prompts used: BERJAYAslythindor100’s early bird prompt I: Christmas Sweater with Reindeer Colourwork Design (picture under the cut) and BERJAYAdracoharry100’s prompt 6: Silver and Gold
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 2.4K (this part)
Rating: R (eventually; this part PG)
Warning: none
Summary: This is the second Christmas for Draco without Astoria and Harry's first since Ginny remarried. Will best friends Scorpius and Albus be just what they need to rekindle something they'd thought fleeting and lost forever?
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: Written for the BERJAYAslythindor100 Early Bird 25 Days of Draco and Harry and the BERJAYAdracoharry100 Christmas Challenge.

On LJ: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

OR on AO3

[Chapter 6]

BERJAYA

Second Chance – Chapter 6


Drummond knocked on Harry's door. "Hey, boss. Got a minute?"

"Sure. What's up?"

"Ron's in the field, following up on another case, and asked me to check in with you. I spoke with the lab and they are at an impasse. Said they did what they could. Ron checked; their external contracts have run their course, and they haven't renewed for next year yet. Looks like we'll have to hire on our own."

Harry nodded. "You've been dealing with Mungo's, yeah?" Drummond nodded. "Right, then. See if they might be able to lend us someone, or if not, if they'd recommend anyone. They already know the details of the case, and they've seen the results. They should be able to shortlist some options for us." Better than any of us could. "Maybe get a couple of names."

"On it. Will let you know."

"Thanks. Maybe get Amelia to draft a contract – she can use the lab's existing ones as a template – so we're ready to go right away. I don't want to waste time on paperwork when we've got a drug manufacturer to get off the streets. Just leave out specifics and have it ready to finalise. And get a summary of the hourly or per diem rates from their latest contracts, so I know what to expect." Harry had discretionary funds, but didn't like to max them out. He'd been diligent about keeping costs down, which left him some flexibility, particularly as the end of the year was fast approaching, but better to approach discussions as well-informed as he could be.

"Will do."

About an hour later, after attending the Improper Use of Magic Office's monthly meeting, Harry was back at his desk when Drummond knocked again.

Harry motioned to the visitor's chair and Drummond took a seat. "News from Mungo's?"

"Mm hmm. They don't have anyone to spare, but they're happy to consult with whoever we end up hiring."

"Fair enough. Did they give you any names?"

"Three, actually. Top of their list is Draco Malfoy."

Well, that was unexpected. Harry knew Draco ran his own lab and had made a name for himself, but hadn't realised he was that well respected. "Go on."

"They said he's done loads of work for them over the years, and he's top notch. Best in the field, according to Smithson, particularly when it comes to healing potions. And he's done some analysis on existing potions, made improvements on them, that sort of thing. They just finished some work with him, so he might be available."

Harry wondered if Draco would want to work with the Ministry after everything. "The next one?"

He looked at his notes. "Another is a bloke named Émile Martin from France they use on occasion, but Smithson said he's been on leave for two months. Hadn't planned to be available until March sometime, some family issue, but he might be willing to help out, given the severity of the case."

"Okay, we'll keep that in mind, if push comes to shove. And the third?"

"A witch named Samantha Cresswell, works at Slug & Jiggers Apothecary in Diagon Alley. She's apparently done excellent work for them for years as well. Not quite on par with Malfoy or Martin when it comes to analytical skills, and they don't know her availability, particularly during the season, being in retail, but still someone they recommend." He dropped the paper onto Harry's desk. "I did ask how much they paid each of them, but Smithson didn't have their contracts in front of him, and said he couldn't tell me even if he did."

Harry nodded. Malfoy, eh? Ron would love that. "So what's your take?"

"Me? Sounds like they're all good. I'd say we see if this Malfoy's available and how much he charges. If not, Cresswell. If neither of them, Martin. No sense calling him unless we need to. Family should rank higher than work."

"I agree."

"Shall I tell Ron you've agreed and get him to reach out? Amelia is getting the material as we speak and should have the contract drafted this afternoon."

Harry imagined Ron's approach, and for that matter Draco's response. "No, it's okay. He's out and I'd like to get this going as quickly as possible. Let me reach out to Malfoy and see what he has to say."

"Sounds good. I'll have Amelia pull together a briefing package so it's ready for when the person starts. She'll get all the lab notes and whatever else they might need."

"Thanks. I'll keep you posted. You can let Ron know when he comes back."

That should be a fun conversation.

Speaking of conversations, Harry wondered how his conversation with Draco would go. He hadn't spoken to the man for years. Had thought about him on occasion, when his name was said in passing. When the Malfoys' names appeared in the news, attached to some charity or another. When Albus had written home, telling Harry all about his new best friend. When Gin had left. When Al had told him that Scorpius' mom died. And now here his name was, showing up again in Harry's life.

He'd wondered, during those times when his name triggered a memory in Harry's mind, how they'd got to where they were now. He'd been a fixture in Harry's life – a thorn in his side – for a solid six years at Hogwarts. Then the war had pushed all that to the background, just noise in amongst the rest of the noise that wasn't directly about getting and destroying the horcruxes. Getting to and destroying Voldemort.

Even then, though, he'd seen flashes of Draco, through Voldemort's eyes. Harry supposed that had been when he'd forgiven him. Or maybe not forgiven him, but laid the groundwork. He'd pitied him as he'd watched what Voldemort was making him do. Dumbledore's words on the tower that night – kindness shown to the boy that might kill him to save his parents – might have been the kindest ones directed at him by anyone besides his mother. God! Imagine growing up with Lucius as a father? Fucking hell, maybe Harry hadn't had it so bad.

Fleeting thoughts that entered his mind from time to time during the war. And then afterwards. The initial trials had taken months. Harry had thought he'd be called to testify against all the Death Eaters, but he hadn't. His testimony had been given multiple times over the years, only to be ignored or twisted by the Ministry, so they knew what he had to say. He reckoned there were a fair few officials that would rather not have Harry speak in open court, lest their complacency – or in some cases, active resistance – become a matter of official public record. Whatever the reason, Kingsley had taken a full statement from Harry which he'd had transcribed. Harry had signed it and they'd presented it to the court as evidence with no objection from any of the defendants, and no requests to cross-examine him. He'd been shocked but relieved.

Still, when Lucius had gone on trial, a part of Harry had wanted to go there, look the bastard in the eyes, and give him the same condescending smirk he'd given Harry all those years back. Wanted to hear them read the guilty verdict. Wanted to watch them cart him off to Azkaban for the last time. But he'd resisted. Hermione had seen to that. She'd insisted that he'd get the closure he needed from the records after the fact. He could watch that last disgrace via a Pensieve memory. No sense getting himself worked up and reliving everything.

In the end, she'd been right. He'd had nightmares nearly every night since the final battle, seeing the faces of the dead, replaying the battles, and in some cases, his sleeping brain would make minor adjustments to events and Voldemort would end up winning. He'd woken up in a cold sweat and had to run to the loo a number of times after those ones. But they'd started to become less graphic, less frequent as time went on. The trials had brought them back. Not with as much frequency or intensity, and no Voldemort wins, thank Merlin, but still. No use prodding his memories even more by going to court. And eventually the nightmares began to ease again.

Then had come the second wave of trials – those for the accomplices. Among them Narcissa and Draco Malfoy. There would have been nothing for Hermione to say or do to stop him going to those. Both of them had saved Harry's life. Both of them had defied Voldemort – in whatever small way they'd been able to – and had defied Lucius as well.

Harry was no fool. He knows now what he'd known then: Narcissa had been protecting her son, not standing up for what was right or trying to save Harry. But he didn't care. He'd seen in Snape's memories Narcissa enlist his help to protect Draco, against Voldemort's orders, against her sister's wishes. Whatever side she'd been on, her top priority had always been her son. Protecting her son. Just like Lily had protected Harry. And Harry had grown up without her. He'd be damned if he wouldn't do everything he could to be sure Draco's mother wasn't taken away from him. Sure, Draco was a man by then, but one that had been raised by Lucius, indoctrinated by Death Eaters, and taught to hate. Maybe he needed time away from all that, to just be loved. By his mother.

As for Draco, he'd done worse than Narcissa, but most of his actions had been as an underage wizard. One who'd looked up to his scumbag of a father, who, as far as Harry could tell, didn't have a redeeming bone in his body. He'd been taught that Voldemort's way was the true and righteous path. Should he have seen through it all? As a boy, not likely. Once he got to school, perhaps. As a young man, sure. But by then, Voldemort was back and threatening his parents. His entire world was collapsing and he had no way to stop it. Except to follow through, do what his father told him to do. Rock and a hard place, that was. And in the end, he'd lied – there was no way in hell he hadn't recognised Harry – and had saved Harry's life. And again when Crabbe had wanted to kill him.

So Harry had testified. Had skirted over the Hogwarts stuff – even what had happened to Katie Bell and Ron as Draco had attempted to kill Dumbledore – not because he didn't think he should pay for that, but because he knew that the wizarding community was out for blood. And from what Harry had witnessed through Voldemort's eyes, he knew Draco had paid. Enough? Probably not, but acting under duress, as a brainwashed minor, was not the same as being a dedicated Death Eater like Lucius. Dumbledore had even said that Draco's attempts had been feeble, and that his heart hadn't been in it.

When the news had broken later that evening, Ron had sent him a Howler. "What the hell were you thinking? And why didn't you tell me you were going to testify?" Why hadn't Harry told him what he was going to do? Because Ron would have tried to talk him out of it. In fact, Harry hadn't told anyone he was going to testify – not Kingsley, not the prosecution, not the defence; he'd just shown up on the day.

Then Ron had shown up at Grimmauld Place that night. "What the fuck did you defend that tosser for?" he'd said as Harry opened the door and he stormed in, nearly knocking Harry off his feet. Harry had tried to explain his reasoning, the fact that Draco had been forced into a horrible situation, but Ron was having none of it. They'd screamed themselves hoarse and by the time they were done, Ron had basically told him to fuck off for choosing Draco over him and had stormed out. They hadn't spoken for months afterwards.

Auror training had started soon after, and both he and Ron had been accepted into the program. Training had proven to be a challenge, with Ron visibly furious, only ever speaking to Harry when absolutely necessary, and taking every opportunity to throw rogue spells at him during practice. Harry had got his own in, to be fair, but his heart hadn't been in it. In the end, it had been Hermione – of course it had been Hermione; it was always Hermione – who had brought them together. After a tough Christmas – he hadn't gone to the Burrow, giving the excuse to leave them to mourn as a family – he'd received an owl, telling him to be patient, with a store-bought reindeer sweater enclosed, instead of a traditional Weasley one. Whether that had been because Molly didn't knit any that year or because she too was upset with Harry, he'd never asked.

They had been halfway through their first year of training when Harry had all but given up. If she hadn't broken through Ron's wall of stubbornness by now, she never would. Harry knew she'd explained to Ron his reasons for testifying (the same reasons that he'd been too stubborn to hear directly from Harry) and he suspected she'd enlisted Molly's help. But he and Ron had never discussed it, not since that night. Had barely spoken at all.

Then out of the blue, Ron had walked up to Harry and said, "I reckon we've been through too much to let it end like this." And that was that. He had no idea what Hermione or Molly had said or done to bring that about, and they never said. Things hadn't gone back to the way they'd been before, not for a long time, but at least Harry hadn't had to watch his back every training session they'd had. And he'd been invited back to the Burrow. And then there had been Ginny. And now, here he was.

He'd never told Ron or Hermione about what had happened during the time they hadn't been speaking. It was all in the past, after all. He'd never told anyone. And he never planned to. He didn't know if their friendship could survive that.

And now here he was, about to invite Draco to work with them.

He picked up the silver-trimmed parchment with the gold "Department of Magical Law Enforcement" letterhead.

Fucking hell. What was he doing? He took a deep breath, dipped his quill in some ink and began to write.
 
 
 
Sesheta
06 December 2025 @ 12:51 am
Title: Second Chance – Chapter Five
Author: BERJAYAsesheta_66 || AO3: sesheta_66
Prompts used: BERJAYAslythindor100’s early bird prompt K: Scented Candle and Festive Decorations (picture under the cut) and BERJAYAdracoharry100’s prompts 10: Roasted Chestnuts and 20: Gingerbread Man
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 1.7K (this part)
Rating: R (eventually; this part PG)
Warning: none
Summary: This is the second Christmas for Draco without Astoria and Harry's first since Ginny remarried. Will best friends Scorpius and Albus be just what they need to rekindle something they'd thought fleeting and lost forever?
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: Written for the BERJAYAslythindor100 Early Bird 25 Days of Draco and Harry and the BERJAYAdracoharry100 Christmas Challenge.

On LJ: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

OR on AO3

[Chapter 5]

BERJAYA

Second Chance – Chapter 5


Draco entered his lab, determined to put the finishing touches on the candle he'd been "commissioned" – more like coerced – to produce. Not usually his area of focus, but when Pansy had reached out, hoping for him to create a new scent for her shop, he couldn't say no. Well, yes, he could, and he'd tried, but she'd played him.

"Oh, I understand, Draco. The science of scents isn't your area of expertise. I'm sure it's a skill developed over years. I don't blame you for not wanting to deliver a less than stellar product."

He'd felt the blood rise to his cheeks, and by the look on her face, Pansy had seen it too. Damn his pale skin! Honestly, he'd known he was being manipulated, but what could he do? Of course he was capable of researching the art of scent development and creating something outstanding – he was a potions master, for Merlin's sake. One of the best in the country, at that.

"Don't think for a moment that I don't know what you're doing, Parkinson."

"It's Zabini now, thanks. And whatever do you mean?"

"Fine, Zabini, I'll develop you an original scent for your Christmas candles, if only to prevent you from resorting to begging."

"Moi? But I would never lower myself to such a level."

He'd snorted at that. Very undignified, he knew, but honestly. Begging was second only to manipulation in Pansy's arsenal. "Just this once. And tell your husband that he'd best be dazzling me with his investment skills as payment. I have a tidy sum to add to my portfolio this month."

"Of course, darling." She'd pecked him on the cheek. "He'll be delighted. Ta!"

And here he was. Finishing off the last of it. Truth be told, it had been fun, a bit of a challenge coming up with a formula that combined the scent of evergreens with roasting chestnuts, gingerbread, mulled wine, apple cider and citrus. Basically, Christmas in a candle. Not together, of course, but rather timed to release at intervals. Pansy had charged him with developing one scent, but really, where was the fun in that? His candle would have one scent in the shop – the evergreens with a hint of mint in the background. Original enough to satisfy Pansy. But once lit, it would change over time. Today was his final testing with the team.

"Hey, boss." Nigel waved from behind his set of flasks, currently decanting a formula Draco had developed for St. Mungo's. They'd needed a calming draught that could be administered to those who had a sensitivity to the existing ones. He'd tried several iterations, but found that switching out the fluxweed oil with chicory oil produced similar results without the adverse reaction. The Healers had tested it successfully on several patients and had placed an order soon after Draco had secured the patent. That had been his eighth project with the hospital, though they'd initially been hesitant to deal with him.

After the war, at his parents' urging, he'd finished his formal schooling in Bulgaria. Having kept in touch with several students from Durmstrang, they'd suggested that he go there after his court case had concluded, where he could study without concern of bias against him. When he'd initially completed his apprenticeship and received full certification, he'd wanted to return to Britain right away, but had had a difficult time finding work. The years away had served him well in the end, as he'd been able to rise through the ranks at two laboratories and one apothecary. When he eventually made his way back, his reputation – as a potions master, not a war criminal – had preceded him, and had secured him a position working for Mr. Mulpepper's Apothecary while he tinkered around after hours in his own home laboratory.

Eventually, through word of mouth regarding the efficacy of his products, he was able to leave the apothecary and work exclusively for himself. Years later, he was now quite successful in his own right, his work highly sought after. So much so that he remained busy all year, employed three full-time lab technicians, two lab assistants, two interns and one apprentice, Nigel. Given his stature, it really was a bit ridiculous that he was developing a scented candle, but such was his friendship with Pansy.

Before Draco could enter his office, Bridgette, his administrative assistant, waved him over. "We've got three more requests for services. The first is from Mungo's – they want to up the quantity of the calming draught. I've taken the liberty of drawing up an amendment to the existing order for your signature. The second is from Mr. Pennywhistle. His wife's condition has worsened and he was wondering if you could create a stronger potion, and something for her stomach. The third is from that French apothecary you turned down last month. They've upped their offer and are hoping to come to an agreement sometime in the new year. Everything is on your desk.

"Thanks." He'd hired Bridgette back when Astoria had started to weaken. Prior to that, she'd done much of the paperwork, but then his business had been much smaller. As the business grew, and her condition worsened, they'd agreed that she needed help. They'd hired Bridgette on the spot – she'd immediately clicked with Astoria and Draco had been very impressed with her CV. They hadn't been wrong. She was now indispensable, and was well worth the significantly above-market salary he paid her. Her skill at keeping everyone working as a cohesive unit alone was worth the pay. Draco had never been, and likely never would be, a people person so he was glad to have that in her. Which reminded him: he needed to pick her up something extra special this year for Christmas. She'd gone over and above ever since Astoria had passed, and deserved a little something extra.

He went into his office, finished his lab notes, other outstanding paperwork, signed off on the amendment, and made a few phone calls. That done, he went back into the lab, bringing Bridgette along.

"Okay, everyone, final test." He handed everyone a candle and a piece of paper. "Each of you go to a separate test booth, light the candle, and cast an acceleration charm to burn the candles at ten times normal speed (instructions on the page, for those unfamiliar). As it burns, fill in the questionnaire. There are a mix of directed and open-ended questions that I'd like you to answer, all on the form. Then when you're done, we'll meet to discuss."

"Anything we should know ahead of time?"

"I don't want to skew anyone's answers, but I will say that there are multiple scents that the candles cycle through four times each. Once you notice the original scent return, you're done."

"Ooh, fancy!" Bridgette said.

Nigel held up his candle, turning it this way and that under the stark lab lighting. "But there's no delineation, no obvious marks where the scent changes."

Draco smiled. "Feel free to write that down – and anything else you notice."

"Why speed up the burn time?" Bridgette asked.

"I've created long-lasting candles, so they will burn for hours and we have other work to do. But I do want you to get the entire effect, so this way you can go through the full cycle in under an hour. I'll light another in the lounge when we're done, so we can evaluate the final impact. Sound good?"

He looked around, but no one else seemed to have any questions. "Right, if that's all, off you go. We can gather in an hour in the meeting room to discuss."

Everyone mumbled their assent and made their way to separate rooms. Draco had already spent so much time burning the candles as he'd developed them that he didn't need to do it again. What he needed now were other opinions.

While they were busy evaluating that project, Draco went back to tend to some of his other potions.

An hour later, they met, and with the only complaint being a slight overlap in scents when they switched over, he agreed to tweak the timing slightly and have the one scent dwindle and the next pick up gradually, which should work. Later, with that done, and with agreement from everyone that the adjustments had resolved the issue, he was ready to present them to Pansy the next day.

As he was getting ready to pack up for the day, Bridgette knocked on his door. "Just received an owl from Hogwarts. Headmistress McGonagall and Professor Slughorn have asked if you could make time to do a couple of guest lectures on the 14th. They were hoping you would address the senior classes to discuss your work and answer any questions they might have about career opportunities in potions."

Draco frowned. He normally got more notice than this when asked to lecture, but he hated to say no, particularly to Hogwarts. Unlike Snape, Draco actually enjoyed teaching. He didn't do it often, but a few times a year at a couple of schools allowed him to do the fun part without the administrative burden of being a resident professor. Best of both worlds.

As though reading his thoughts, Bridgette added, "They did say that if that wasn't possible, perhaps you could arrange a day in January. But before you ask, I've already checked your schedule. You have one conflict – a meeting at Mungo's – that I can shuffle, and Nigel's just about wrapped up all his solo projects for the time. He can manage whatever comes along, if it comes to that. And, honestly, I think you'll both be busier in January anyway."

"What would I do without you?"

"Implode." She grinned. "Shall I reply that you'll be there at nine o'clock on the 14th?"

"Leave it to me," he said. When she shot him a quizzical look – she usually handled such requests – he explained. "I thought I might persuade the headmistress to allow me to remove my son from the grounds for a meal with his father in Hogsmeade."

She handed him the letter with a smile. "Sounds like a great idea. I'm sure Scorpius will love that."

With that, he sent off the letter to McGonagall and Slughorn and went home for the day, looking forward to his upcoming school visit.
 
 
Sesheta
04 December 2025 @ 10:45 pm
Title: Second Chance – Chapter Four
Author: BERJAYAsesheta_66 || AO3: sesheta_66
Prompts used: BERJAYAslythindor100’s early bird prompt F: Jar of Candy Canes and other Ornaments (picture under the cut) and BERJAYAdracoharry100’s prompts 11: Office Christmas Party and 13: Poinsettia
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Word Count: 1.8K (this part)
Rating: R (eventually; this part PG-13)
Warning: none
Summary: This is the second Christmas for Draco without Astoria and Harry's first since Ginny remarried. Will best friends Scorpius and Albus be just what they need to rekindle something they'd thought fleeting and lost forever?
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: Written for the BERJAYAslythindor100 Early Bird 25 Days of Draco and Harry and the BERJAYAdracoharry100 Christmas Challenge.

On LJ: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

OR on AO3

[Chapter 4]

BERJAYA

Second Chance – Chapter 4


Harry walked into the boardroom and saw that someone had let loose on the place: a poinsettia sat in the centre of the table with jars of candy canes and other ornaments spread across the width of it, and a tree was twinkling with fairy lights in the back corner, the soft smell of pine permeating the room.

Once everyone was seated, looking cheered by the decorations, Harry called the meeting to order. "Right," he said, "status updates. Ron, if you'd summarise, please."

"Sure. We're waiting on several court dates to be set for the Muggle baiting case in York, the Midlands forgery case, the kidnapping in Canterbury and the dark artifacts case here in London."

"They still haven't dealt with that last one? It's been ready to go for weeks."

Ron shook his head. "Courts are backed up. Outbreak of dragon pox took out some of the Wizengamot – not the youngest lot, those ones – for a solid three weeks, so they're still behind."

Harry nodded. "Right. And the balance of the cases?"

As Head Auror and Deputy Head of Magical Law Enforcement, Ron took the lead, giving summary updates and guiding his investigators through details on their ongoing cases. The new recruits – only a few months in to the job – sat eagerly taking notes. Harry didn't discourage this, though most of the seasoned Aurors just listened and nodded. Amelia, Ron's assistant, took notes for the records and Harry listened for any potentially political issues – not his favourite part of the job, but as Head of MLE, it fell on his shoulders.

Overall, the Auror Office ran smoothly. He and Ron had made some significant changes, had integrated some of the better Muggle-style processes, and had created a full set of standard operating procedures – not Ron's favourite part of the job, but a 'necessary evil' as he'd put it at the time – and updated what few existing procedures had preceded their employment. Gone were the laborious, nitpicky processes that served no substantive purpose beyond pulling Aurors off the streets to mindlessly fill out forms (Percy had not been pleased upon hearing of these changes) and new were the computerised files. Those had initially been housed off-site, where the glut of magic at Ministry headquarters couldn't wreak havoc on the electronics, until a few years back when they'd finally mastered the ability to run computers alongside electricity, thanks in large part to some of their former Ravenclaw classmates.

Drummond – their lead investigator on a drug case that covered the whole of England – sighed with frustration. "The lab has come up with nothing so far, but they're still working on it. We've exhausted all our leads, and have virtually nothing to show for it."

There'd been a number of raves where kids had taken some new drug – street name Ves*, advertised to "level up" the previously popular gillyweed experience. The drug delivered, and then some. Those that had been interviewed had described hallucinations, euphoria, and a complete escape from reality, almost an out-of-body experience. From what had been reported, and what the lab had been able to determine, the drug lasted an average of six hours. Perfect for a rave setting, if that's what you were into.

Unfortunately, a lot of kids were into just that. In fact, some had taken it more than once after having the "best high of their lives". Others didn't fare so well. Same symptoms, only more intense and they lasted ten, twelve or more hours. The hallucinations stacked on top of one another, attacking multiple senses – bodies riddled with extremes from icy cold to burning hot, the sensation of ants crawling all over their skin; faces and objects melting and morphing into creatures in front of them, walls dissolving, breathing, exploding and reforming, images remaining even after the users tightly shut their eyes; screaming, chanting, cackling and growling noises coming from nowhere and everywhere, some describing the feeling as akin to someone having crawled inside their heads. Sensory overloaded, with no end in sight.

No attempted spells – by friends on scene, emergency responders, or at the hospital when all other attempts failed and they'd been brought in – had any effect. They simply had to wait out the drug, hoping for it all to just stop. Some didn't make it, hearts giving out, throats closing up. Several turned their wands on themselves in desperation, just wanting it all to end. And even when it did stop, not everyone recovered, echos of the experience lingering for days, sometimes weeks, leaving the user suspended in a state of paranoia and delusion.

Drummond flipped through a folder of papers. "Six dead, another eight still in St. Mungo's, and eleven now recovering at home. Only time will tell if some will suffer permanent damage. That's only counting the ones that have come forward. A hell of a lot more took this garbage and Merlin knows how they're doing."

There had been two waves – the first one that had hit the big cities over the course of three weeks, and then another in smaller towns. And then it had stopped. "And no new cases?" Harry asked.

"No, sir. Nothing since that last one out in Essex."

"Maybe it's gone now?" Mulhoney, one of the new recruits, suggested hopefully.

"Shit like this is never gone," Drummond said. "Word gets out about bad trips, things die down for a bit, then it comes back. Sometimes better, if manufacturers work out the kinks, sometimes worse if they tinker with the wrong thing, but most of the time, it's just the same shit, different distribution."

Mulhoney looked horrified. If Harry recalled correctly, a Muggle cousin of hers had struggled with drug addiction. He'd have to have a chat with Ron after this, get him to keep an eye on her.

"There have also been a couple of Muggle cases that warrant investigation," Drummond continued. "Not sure if it's the same stuff, but I've got Muggle Liaison making arrangements for me to meet with a few stations. I should have more on that by the end of the day, tomorrow at the latest."

"Sounds good."

"Oh, and Skeeter wants to meet with you, sir." He grimaced, as though smelling something foul. Harry nodded, feeling the same way about seeing her.

"I can call her back," Ron offered.

"No, it's fine," Harry said, grateful for his offer, but knowing full well that she wouldn't settle for Ron's comments. And, given the last occasion when Ron had spoken with her only to make things worse, Harry figured he might as well speak with her directly. "Tell her it's an ongoing investigation and we have no comment for now, but to call my office for an appointment and I'll meet with her in a couple of days. Hopefully by then you'll have further word from the lab and the Muggle police."

"Will do."

The rest of the meeting covered the balance of their cases, all in varying stages of investigation, then moved on to the office Christmas party.

"Is it required that we attend?" asked Sullivan, a painfully shy new recruit. He looked ill at the mere thought.

Ron chuckled. "Not required, but recommended if you want to make connections." Sullivan looked fully prepared to forego that. "If you need an assist from another department, or need information from some source, or a nudge from a higher-up, it would do you some good to have some name recognition." He looked around the room. "You'd all do well to network at an event like this: low pressure, casual. But you don't have to. And for the love of all things holy, don't get hammered. Then they'll remember you forever." That got a chuckle out of everyone, even Sullivan, whose face resumed a slightly healthier pallor.

That was one part of the job Harry and Ron wholeheartedly agreed on. Like standard operating procedures, the Christmas party was, too, a necessary evil.

After the meeting, Ron hung back. "About this drug case, I was thinking. If it goes nowhere, we might need to call in an outside expert."

Harry nodded. He'd thought the same thing. "Do we have any contracts we can draw on?"

"We don't, but the lab might. I'll check on that once we hear back on the latest tests they're running. But ever since Sampson retired, they don't have the same level of expertise."

"I know. They've struggled getting a replacement. Kingsley tells me that the few they interviewed were woefully underqualified. And every qualified candidate that applied balked at the mediocre salary. Refused to even interview." Harry couldn't blame them. The private sector potions business was highly profitable. "Potions Masters don't come cheap, but after Skeeter's last article on bloated public servant salaries, the administration is loath to review anyone's salary, particularly once someone's left. So they've set aside the competition for the year, and will look at it again come January. Better to have a vacancy and salary savings, in their minds."

"Then in five years, when they realise how much we've spent on consulting contracts, they'll cry foul and beg for us to hire internally again."

"And so the cycle continues."

Ron packed up his files and made to leave. Harry stopped him. "Before you go, keep an eye on Mulhoney, yeah? Didn't her cousin have a drug problem? She looked a bit spooked by the case."

"Uncle, actually. And I'm already on it."

"Great, thanks."

When Ron left, Harry spent some time pondering the drug case. He couldn't imagine, as a parent, watching your son or daughter go mad, or even die, from one stupid mistake. A big mistake, to be sure, but this garbage was top-grade poison. Highly potent, and seemingly without an antidote. Not like the relatively harmless experiments of youth they usually came across. A counter-potion, spell, or some combination and the kid walks away with a headache and some bad memories. Mungo's had brilliant medical staff and they hadn't been able to stop it once it got hold.

And kids are notoriously stupid. He could imagine them egging each other on. Those guys survived just fine. We'll be fine. We're strong enough to handle it. Like most stupid dares that get dumber over time. Only this one could kill them.

Sometimes he really hated people. He hoped Mulhoney was right – that the garbage was gone now – but he doubted it. And even if it was, they needed to find the producer and get them off the street. Along with the formula. Before it happened all over again, with potentially worse outcomes.

Meanwhile, six families would spend this Christmas mourning the loss of their child, and another eight families would be spending their days visiting St. Mungo's instead of Christmas shopping. What a clusterfuck.

He ran his hands through his hair, wondering what the hell he was going to tell Skeeter later this week.


      * Ves – abbreviation of Vesanus, from the Latin meaning frenzied or insane
 
 
 
Sesheta
03 December 2025 @ 05:18 pm
Title: Second Chance – Chapter Three
Author: BERJAYAsesheta_66 || AO3: sesheta_66
Prompts used: BERJAYAslythindor100’s early bird prompt W: Festive Fruit Drinks (picture under the cut) and BERJAYAdracoharry100’s prompts 5: Mulled Cider and 27: Spiced Mead
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Word Count: 1K (this part)
Rating: R (eventually; this part G)
Warning: none
Summary: This is the second Christmas for Draco without Astoria and Harry's first since Ginny remarried. Will best friends Scorpius and Albus be just what they need to rekindle something they'd thought fleeting and lost forever?
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: Written for the BERJAYAslythindor100 Early Bird 25 Days of Draco and Harry and the BERJAYAdracoharry100 Christmas Challenge.

On LJ: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25

OR on AO3

[Chapter 3]

BERJAYA

Second Chance – Chapter 3


An eagle owl descended towards the Slytherin table, dropping a letter on Scorpius' lap. "Where's the usual package of sweets?" Albus teased. Scorpius had never mentioned it, but it had always been his mother who would send those packages, and last year his grandmother had taken over. But this year, it was just his father writing him regularly. So, no sweets.

"It's from my dad." He skimmed the letter and smiled. "I asked him if you could come stay with me for a few days over the hols, after your trip."

"Ugh. Lily's gonna be a nightmare. She keeps whining about how she thought for sure Mum and Dad would get back together. She cried for days after Mum and Pedro got married. She'll probably mope and complain the whole time."

Scorpius thought Al was probably right. "Good luck with that." He waved the letter in front of Al's face. "Anyway, he says you can come over."

Al was glad that he could finally see the place where Scorpius grew up. "That's great! I'd love to see your place." He'd heard a lot about it and it sounded impressive.

"As long as your parents say it's okay."

"'Course they will. No problem." When Scorpius gave him a sceptical look, he asked, "Why wouldn't they?"

"C'mon. I'm a Malfoy. You remember how your uncle reacted when he found out we were friends."

He did remember. He also remembered his dad shutting Uncle Ron down, telling him that Scorpius was not his dad, and that what happened twenty years ago was in the past. He'd never seen his dad talk to his uncle that way before. And his aunt had been on his dad's side, too. Not his uncle's finest moment. "Yeah, but my uncle's not my dad."

"I know, but his sister is your mum. And from what I've heard, according to my Aunt Daphne at least, all the Weasleys feel the same way."

Albus considered this. "If she expects me to go to Mallorca with her new husband, she can bloody well let me go to your place over the hols. Or maybe I'll just ask my dad and leave her out of it."

Scorpius grinned. Al definitely belonged in Slytherin, no matter what his uncle said. "Fair enough."

He returned to the letter and re-read it, properly this time. When he frowned, Al asked, "What's wrong?"

Scorpius shrugged. "Just that he works too much. Ever since mum died."

Al nodded. "My dad's the same. Has been since mum left."

"My grandmother kept pushing him to slow down, but he just brushed her off. So she asked me to nudge him once in a while. Which, for her, means every time I talk to him." He held up the letter. "He's on to her, though, says to tell her he's not working too hard."

"Wish someone would tell my dad the same thing. Did you know that they didn't even tell us Mum had gone until we came home at the end of the school year? She left right when we came back to school after Christmas hols, and Dad went through that all alone. Said later that they didn't want to upset us, if it turned out to be just temporary." He scowled. "I overheard him talking to my aunt one time, saying that he never thought it would be forever." He took a bite of toast. "But he seems to be okay with it now. Barely reacted at all when Mum got married earlier this year. Just works all the time to fill his days, I suppose."

Scorpius nodded. "Same. It's not just my grandmother, though. I worry about him too. Not as much, obviously, but still. Sometimes he just stares out at nothing and I don't know what to say."

They both sat there quietly eating their breakfast, both mulling over their dads' situations.

"I have an idea!" Albus said. "We have a Christmas party every year, some friends and family come by. Why don't you and your dad come too?" He thought it would get Scorpius' father out of the house and give his own dad a chance to talk to someone that's in basically the same situation. Someone that isn't his mum's friend or family member. Appealing to his friend's sweet tooth, he added, "We make all sorts of festive drinks and there's mulled wine and cider, and spiced mead for the adults. Or, if you don't like them, we have the usual butterbeer and stuff."

Scorpius thought about it a few moments before answering. "I'm in, but I'm not sure my father would want to go into a Gryffindor den." Al snorted. "But it would be great to see him get out of the house. Maybe talk to other people, ones that don't remind him of my mother. Maybe get his mind off things."

"Don't tell him yet, though." Al calculated the best way to approach it. "I can mention it when I ask my dad if I can stay at your place. I'll say that after I visit you, maybe you can come over to our place for a while. Then I'll throw in the idea that maybe you and your dad can join us for the party, you know, when he drops you off or picks you up, depending on the timing."

"Okay." He sounded hesitant. "But will your uncle be there? He really doesn't like my dad and that might make it a bit ... tense."

Al considered that. "Yeah, but Rose will tell him to be nice. She likes you. And my aunt will set him straight if he tries to say anything stupid. She's used to doing that."

Scorpius laughed. "Alright, then. Sounds good. I'll leave it to you."
 
 
 
Sesheta
02 December 2025 @ 10:43 pm
Title: Second Chance – Chapter Two
Author: BERJAYAsesheta_66 || AO3: sesheta_66
Prompts used: BERJAYAslythindor100’s early bird prompt V: Reindeer-Drawn Sleighs (picture under the cut) and BERJAYAdracoharry100’s prompts 2: Sleigh and 18: Reindeer
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Word Count: 2.1K (this part)
Rating: R (eventually; this part G)
Warning: none
Summary: This is the second Christmas for Draco without Astoria and Harry's first since Ginny remarried. Will best friends Scorpius and Albus be just what they need to rekindle something they'd thought fleeting and lost forever?
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: Written for the BERJAYAslythindor100 Early Bird 25 Days of Draco and Harry and the BERJAYAdracoharry100 Christmas Challenge.

On LJ: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25

OR on AO3

[Part 2]

BERJAYA

Second Chance – Part 2


Draco sat on his favourite chair in the lounge, book in hand, brandy beside him on the table. As he settled down for a quiet evening, a tapping startled him.

He pulled back the drapes to find Scorpius' eagle owl, preening his feathers as he awaited entry, looking every bit as haughty as his own owl had been when Draco was Scorpius' age. He opened the window and stepped back with a shiver. "Come on in out of the cold, Abraxas." The bird hopped inside, just enough for Draco to close the window behind him, then held out his leg. Draco removed the letter, and Abraxas flew off to his cage, which had a supply of treats and some self-refilling water for such occasions.

With a smile, Draco resumed his seat and opened the letter.

Hello, Father.

I trust this letter finds you well. I hope you are not overworking yourself.


Clearly that had been a nudge from Narcissa. Knowing that Draco had tired of her relentless nagging about his hours of work, she'd recently engaged Scorpius to take over some of the burden. Just because his father, and Lucius' father before him, chose not to work in the traditional sense of the word, did not mean that Draco subscribed to the same lifestyle. No, he did not need to work – he was a Malfoy after all, and wealthy enough, thank you very much – but he wanted to work. He needed purpose, and contrary to his father's idea of work for the wealthy, Draco did not skulk around Ministry headquarters, bullying and bribing his way into changing wizarding policies and protocols. Quite the contrary. He could go the rest of his life without ever setting foot in that building again.

Draco shuddered, recalling the last time he'd been there: for his own post-war trial, a memory best left in the past. No sense bringing all that back up again by returning to the scene. Besides, he wondered whether his father might not have become a better man, had he got up every day and performed meaningful work, produced something, provided some service. At the very least, he would have had less time on his hands to whip up schemes in support of a madman.

He shook the thoughts away. Never mind all that. He knew Narcissa meant well, but she just didn't understand. He wanted to work. He needed to work. Especially since Astoria had died. While their marriage had been one of convenience – two of the wealthy and influential Sacred Twenty-Eight families joined together – they'd become close. They'd become friends, found common ground – both having been through a trying experience during and after the war, their ideals challenged and reputations sullied – and common purpose. They would not perpetuate the notion that Muggles were lesser than or at least not scum. Neither of their families had given up that mindset, so when they'd had Scorpius, there had been some challenging moments. But they'd resolved to raise him properly, without the prejudice they themselves had been raised to believe. And they'd done their best on that account.

As a result, much to his parents' horror, Draco and Astoria had purchased their own home and raised Scorpius there. A modest manor home – by Malfoy standards, anyway – that afforded them the privacy they needed, particularly once Astoria had become ill. Draco had not shared her condition with his parents until it was impossible to conceal it. Neither of them had wanted a fuss, and more than that, they didn't want his parents, or hers, to presume they could swoop in to "help raise the boy." Oh, hell no. They knew what that meant, and no thank you. They had done just fine, and Scorpius had turned out very well, if he did say so himself. Yes, Draco worked, but he was a devoted father, who took every opportunity to spend time with family, even if it meant working from his home laboratory in the evenings when Scorpius was asleep. It worked for them, and he had no regrets.

At his parents' mention of Malfoy Manor being a family home, passed down for generations, Draco pointed out that he didn't have to live there with his parents to maintain the home. When his father was killed – by a victim of Voldemort, a mother who'd lost her two children and husband in the second war and turned her wand on herself afterwards – Narcissa had begged Draco to return to the Manor. He stood his ground and their cosy family of three had remained in the home he and Astoria had made together. The three of them, and more recently the two of them, made a point of visiting Narcissa often, and Draco had Saturday afternoon tea with her every week. She had enough friends and activities to keep her busy, so he would not be made to feel guilty for not living there. She did make him promise to keep the Manor in the family when she passed, to which he pointed out she was a witch, meaning that would be decades from now. Scorpius may choose to live there, or not. That would be left to him as an adult. After the war, Draco had been rather keen to get out of the place, the ghosts of Death Eaters all around. Thankfully, once Lucius was gone, he'd convinced his mother to gut the place and redecorate. It now bore very little resemblance to the building Lord Voldemort had occupied. Their bedrooms – thankfully, not invaded by the masses – had remained as they'd been, so there was still a sense of comfort, a throw back to his childhood, which before the war had been rather idyllic. But the rest of the house? Tainted by the presence of Voldemort, the Death Eaters, and that vile snake, the place had been a constant, ever-present reminder of all that had gone wrong.

He picked up the letter and continued to read.

I am writing to you about Christmas. I was hoping to invite Albus to stay for a couple of days – or longer if he can – over the holidays.

Can you believe this? He and his brother and sister are going to Mallorca for Christmas! Okay, not for Christmas, but for a few days at the beginning of the holidays. His mum and her new husband are going and they asked the kids along. And his dad said yes.

Why don't we ever go away at Christmas?

Anyway, when Al is back, I was hoping we could have him stay with us for a few days. I figure we could use the extra company and he could use a break from all that Gryffindor energy at his dad's place. Please?

Let me know soon, please, so I can ask Al. Thanks!

Love, Scorpius


Draco smiled. Yes, indeed, they could use some extra company. He was looking forward to having Scorpius home, having him to himself, but there were plenty of days to do that, even if he had his best friend over for a few of them. And from what he'd heard, Albus was a good kid.

He could use a bit of noise in the house. Not as grand as Malfoy Manor, their home was still very large, with six bedrooms, seven bathrooms, and several sitting rooms. Two people alone there could go months without so much as running into each other, except for meals, if they so desired. Growing up, Draco had enjoyed his solitude, and he'd had the family portraits to converse with whenever he got bored. Even now, he enjoyed his alone time, but it came with a gnawing ache in his chest sometimes.

He and Astoria, for all the faults of a marriage of convenience and opportunity, had been close. They were, in every sense of the word, best friends. They had respect for one another, agreed on pretty much all important aspects of child rearing, and supported each other as a team. Even if they hadn't been passionately in love, they had been partners, lovers, friends. And he missed that terribly sometimes.

As for Scorpius' request, Draco only now registered that he'd never once invited a friend to the house. True, his mother had been ill since he'd started school, but Draco hadn't really thought about it before now. Well, that needed to be rectified.

He picked up quill and parchment and quickly replied.

Dear Scorpius,

I was pleased to receive your letter. It is always nice to hear from you. I hope all is well at school and that you continue to enjoy your classes. And in response to your grandmother's inquiry, no I am not working too much.

Mallorca, you say? Well, I hear that can be quite lovely during the holidays. As for your assertion that we do not go away for the holidays, perhaps this is true for Christmastime (I imagine your grandmother would have something to say about that if we tried) but I hasten to remind you that we have travelled rather extensively over the years. Having said that, perhaps we could arrange a short trip for next year. Perhaps we could bring your grandmother along so she does not make a fuss. Better yet, we can arrange a longer getaway at the end of next term.

As for inviting your friend to stay, I think that would be a wonderful idea. As long as he has permission from his parents, I am sure we can arrange something that would suit all our schedules.

We can discuss specifics as the time draws nearer.

Enjoy the rest of the term,
Love, Father


He sent the owl back a short while later and resumed his spot in the sitting room. Too late to call the owl back, he wondered if he shouldn't have spoken to Potter first. What would his reaction be? Even more troubling, what would his wife's – ex-wife's – reaction be to having her son spend days in a Malfoy residence? At least it wasn't the Manor.

He wondered how that conversation might go. Then he recalled seeing Albus at the train station – he'd never had a conversation with the boy, but from a distance he could see that the middle Potter child looked quite as much like his father as Scorpius looked like Draco. Strange how the world worked, the difference between the two generations. Draco and Harry had been pitted against each other, even if not knowingly, from the very beginning, perhaps even before they'd met. And yet their sons had become fast friends. Virtually inseparable, if Slughorn was to be believed. And Draco had no reason not to believe him. Certainly whenever he spoke of school, Scorpius rarely managed an entire conversation without mentioning his best friend.

Odd that the two hadn't met up outside of school before now. Though maybe not so strange. With Astoria ill since before Scorpius attended Hogwarts, they hadn't had many visitors at all. It was they who travelled to other people's homes, so they could leave in short order. And Scorpius tended to dote on his mother whenever he'd been home, hesitant to leave the house, lest she need him for something. And last year – the first without her – was a bit of a blur.

He did hope Potter wouldn't refuse. Draco so wanted Scorpius to have a normal childhood – as normal as he could do without a mother.

He thought back to Scorpius' letter. Had they not done enough travelling with him, while Astoria had been well enough? They'd gone to France numerous times, and to see Astoria's family in Wales, and also to Spain – though not Mallorca – and Greece. They'd even arranged a trip to Egypt, but had had to cancel that when it became clear Astoria could no longer travel. Perhaps he and Scorpius should take that trip, just the two of them. In her honour. Not sure if the memory of his wife would overshadow the entire affair, he resolved to give it some consideration over the next few months. And if they didn't do that, perhaps a trip across the pond would be in order. He'd never been to the Americas. It might be fun.

But for this year, if the Potters let Albus visit, maybe he could take the boys for a reindeer-drawn sleigh ride; Draco had loved them when he was a boy, and he was sure they'd love it too. He smiled as he sipped his brandy. This Christmas was looking rather promising.
 
 
 
 
 
BERJAYA