Chapter Text
Harry sat across from Draco, perched easily on a cushion on the floor, and stared, frowning, at his letter tiles. Draco tried not to smirk—he'd just played QUIZ on a double word score.
It was New Year's Eve, and they'd been rushing to get the new house prepared for guests for the better part of six weeks. Draco knew Harry was a bit uncomfortable with the entire concept of having a "second home" (a phrase that Draco would never have thought to use), but Harry's distaste with shows of wealth wasn't strong enough to have eclipsed the appeal of a home, outside of London—outside of England!—where no one knew who they were. And they'd managed, finally, to get all of the rooms cleared of dust and filled with furniture, just in time for their children to arrive after Christmas for an extended stay. And for a casual New Year's Eve party with friends beyond their children.
The house was in the Côte d'Azur, which Harry claimed made it fancy even though the house itself wasn't particularly luxe. You couldn't buy a house in their neighbourhood in London for what it had cost, that was sure. Draco could speak French, so that was part of the appeal, and the Mediterranean, of course, but mostly—when they walked around, no one ever had any idea who they were.
And being in such an appealing spot was part of their cunning plan to get the kids to come visit, and to take actual holidays from their work.
Harry grinned, finally placing down ZEST off of Draco's Z.
Draco groaned. The downside of leaving an open Z tile.
"Lily, come on. Why be a charms inventor if you aren't going to help me?"
Lily scowled at her brother. "Oh yes, I forgot that I planned my entire career around helping your whims."
"It's not because of a whim," James claimed. "It's for fun."
"I honestly don't know how you survived their childhood," Draco whispered. "You must have been so tired."
Harry snorted, leaning back on his arms to watch his kids squabble.
There was a look in Harry's eye—a look like he knew the answer to a question. Draco tilted his head, studying him. "You know how to get them to stop arguing."
"Huh?" Harry looked at Draco. "Oh. Yeah I do." He grinned. "But I don't do that anymore. They're adults."
"I'll pay you for your time!" James whinged.
"I make more money than you!" Lily retorted. Her hair, buzzed short, really did look incredible.
"Yes, but I don't want to do that thing men do in families," James said, "where they expect unpaid labour from women!"
Lily narrowed her eyes. "So you think my worth only comes from my income?"
Draco winced. It was hard to pay attention to Scrabble with this happening in the background. His tiles sucked, too—OEIBOEE. "I don't believe you," he said airily. "You can't actually get them to stop arguing."
Harry narrowed his eyes. "Do you think I don't see right through you? You're trying to rile me up, distract me, so you can…so you can what? Switch your tiles for better letters when I'm not looking?"
"I won't cheat!" Draco gasped. "I'm only a little bored and want to see you in action. And they're distracting me from my excellent wordsmithery."
Harry's eyes darted to his kids, then back to Draco. He grinned.
Draco pressed his lips together, trying not to appear too amused or smug.
"Hey Lils," Harry said casually, and waited till she looked over. "Sounds like James is only asking because he has no idea how to do it himself."
Lily rolled her eyes. "Obviously. He never even took a single class in arithmancy."
"Well," Harry continued, rearranging his tiles casually, like this conversation wasn't registering as a top priority, "you can probably get him off your back fastest by pointing him in the right direction." Draco watched this with interest. Surely, that wouldn't be enough to get Lily to cave. Then Harry opened his mouth again: "Unless you don't know how."
"I know how!" Lily huffed. "But I don't want to waste my holiday charming the turtle James found!"
"Fair enough. James," Harry continued, "she doesn't want to. Just drop it, okay? You know you hate taking a backseat on projects, anyway. You'll be happier."
James's face contorted into a deep frown. "That's not true, Dad. I don't do that anymore! I don't boss Lily around anymore!"
Lily snorted. Her face showed a weariness borne of decades of having been bossed around by him.
"Lil, it's true! I will stand back and let you lead. You can boss me around, I promise. I'll be your sous chef. Your sous…charmer." He stopped, then leaned forward with gleaming eyes. "And just think of the look on Albus's face!"
She studied him, tapping a finger against her chin. "I can boss you around?"
James nodded.
"Deal. Bring your phone. And the turtle."
Once they'd left the room, Harry took a small bow and Draco started laughing. "Alright, alright. You are the supreme parent mediator. Although I'm not sure it's great parenting to like, reverse psychology them based on their issues."
"Whatever, look." Harry cocked his head towards the adjoining room, where they now sat, heads together, scribbling notes on paper as they tested wand motions. "They're bonding. Sibling togetherness."
"Let's just hope they don't accidentally vanish that table after it took us half a day to get it inside."
"I don't want to talk about that," Harry groaned. "Too soon."
"If they vanish it, they can figure out how to Levitate an unshrinkable table through a second-storey window without—"
"I said TOO SOON, Draco," Harry moaned. "And go; it's your turn."
"But I'm in vowel purgatory," Draco proclaimed. "Is E-I-E-I-O a word?"
TOE, but that was like 3 points. TEE. TOO. What about the two-letter words? But really he wanted to play off one of the z-words. QUIZIE? ZESTIE? QUIZEE—one who was quizzed?
Harry tapped his fingers on the table, attempting to rush Draco into playing a poor word.
But fuck it, Draco couldn't deal with this. He needed to get rid of as many tiles as possible so he could refill with some consonants. Wincing, he played BIO, also gaining points for OE.
"The fuck is oe?" Harry asked.
"It's a word."
"But what the fuck is it?"
"I don't know; I simply memorised the two-letter word list."
"I challenge that."
"Harry, honestly. You're going to challenge me over a move that got me…a whole seven points?"
"It's the principle of the matter." He was pulling up the dictionary on his phone. Merlin help Draco for having chosen such a competitive Gryffindor.
"Mate!" Ron shouted, bounding into the room and flopping onto the sofa behind Harry. Hermione followed him at a more sedate pace.
"Bilius," Harry greeted, then turned to Hermione and bowed. "Madam Minister."
Hermione, smiling, rolled her eyes. "Not yet, I'm not." She looked at her watch. "I've got like ten more days of freedom." Then she frowned. "Assuming he actually, you know, agrees to leave office. What if he just…refuses to go?"
"I'll hex him in the bollocks," Ron said. "So no worries, there."
Draco tilted his head, studying Hermione. "You say you have ten more days of freedom, but I know you. You hate not being busy, and you hate waiting." He reached into the bag for two more tiles. E and A. He groaned, placing them on the rack. "I think it's killing you," he said, pointing a finger at Hermione with amusement, "not being able to start right away."
"It's torture!" she said by way of agreement. "The election was months ago and I have to sit around and not run the country?"
Ron shook his head. "Total nonsense. Everyone knows you should always be in charge."
Rump still hadn't acknowledged that Hermione had won the election. He was bringing challenges to the Wizengamot. He was going on the WNN talking about election fraud. It was exactly what you'd expect for the end of his fascist government, and therefore it was horrifying and made them all terribly anxious about whatever was coming next. Draco didn't think he or Harry would truly relax until Hermione had taken the magical vow of office.
Harry was looking at the board again, and broke into a shit-eating grin.
Bugger.
"Oh, my luck is strong today, my friends," Harry said. He played the word YAK on a triple word, playing the Y off ZEST for ZESTY. "That's 30 plus…17…FORTY-SEVEN, OLD MAN!" He held his arms out towards Draco with a "come and get me" face, then turned around and high-fived Ron. The two of them had, truly, never grown up.
"Zesty," Draco griped. "Zesty, my arse. I'll show you zesty."
Harry crowed, leaning forward to make sure it got right up in Draco's face.
Feeling murderous, Draco wondered if UNZESTY was a word and then realised he didn't have a U in his rack of vowels.
"You know what I've been wanting to ask you, Hermione," Draco said, frowning at OEIEEEA. "What are you going to do first? I don't mean like, what law are you going to try to pass. I mean, what are you going to do? Is there something of Rump's you're going to burn, or a statue you'll be Vanishing, or…?"
Hermione laughed, and Harry and Ron turned to look at her. Draco wondered if he could use their distraction to grab two different tiles, or to Transfigure the ones in front of him. With a C and an L, he could turn QUIZ into QUIZICAL. Wait, no. Only one Z. Merlin's bollocks!
"As a matter of fact, Luna is going to come with me to perform a ritual to clear the magical energy of the office."
Harry's mouth dropped open. "But you don't believe in that sort of thing!"
"Harry," she said, voice dripping with exhaustion, "at this point, I will try anything. Plus, even if there's no magical mechanism for ridding bad energy or magic or whatever, it will still be ceremonially important to my team, I think."
Draco looked up and gave her a small smile. "That's really smart. It'll be a good team-building, starting line activity."
She smiled. "I still think it should be you, you know."
Draco shrugged, still smiling. "Somehow, it doesn't bother me. I'm just so happy he'll be out of that office."
And, strangely, it was true. Draco didn't feel jealous of Hermione; he didn't feel like the election had been stolen from him, or that his career had been ruined, or anything like that. He would've been depressed about it, he supposed, if he was sitting around and doing nothing, if his career had suddenly been gone and he felt like he'd lost his purpose in life. But since that wasn't the case, he was remarkably fine with it all.
In a way, he was relieved to be free of it. Because Hermione was still the brightest witch of her age, and because she would do at least as good a job as Draco. Draco had only ever thought he was the only possible nominee because Hermione, in 2035, had adamantly not wanted to run for political office in Britain. She'd wanted to work for the ICW.
Four years later, though, Hermione was excited about the challenge of fixing the mess Rump had made.
Draco's eyes flitted to Harry, and he smiled, looking at him like that hadn't got old yet, and Draco suspected it never would.
"Yeah, cheers, Mi," Harry said, grinning. "I'm not sure how much I fancied being the highest political spouse in the land."
"Hey!" Ron said. "Your loss, mate. It's going to be amazing. Did I tell you I spent three grand on dress robes?"
Harry erupted in laughter, turning to look at Ron and leaning back on his arms. "What?! But the Minister isn't even like, a particularly well-compensated position….?"
Ron held up a finger. "Listen. I had nightmares for years about my first set of dress robes. I close my eyes, I see that bloody lace frill. We have enough money now, and I am the most important spouse in the land. I deserve this, Harry."
Harry, smiling widely, like he'd never been more happy about anything in his life, patted Ron's knee. "You really do. I'm happy for you. How sweet are they?"
"Sweet," Hermione stressed. "He looks like a snack."
"Hermione!" Harry laughed.
"What?" she said. "It's simply the truth."
"Draco, you're stalling," Harry said, gesturing expansively to the board.
Draco scowled and turned to his letters. What words were nearly all vowels? ADIEU was close, but there was no D in play. And he didn't have a U. OUIJA. AGUE. But he didn't have a U! CIAO. ACAI. Ciao. Ciao. He had IAO. His eyes feverishly scanned the board, looking for a C. Maybe earlier in the game? Wait, yes—Harry had played ACNE. Draco desperately threw down CIAO.
Four bloody points. Four.
Jorgen and Glynn wandered in, mid-conversation, and sat on the sofa opposite Ron and Hermione. Their fast friendship brought Harry much joy, and, sure enough, Harry was grinning at them.
"So how's the mmmmmmmm going, then?" Ron asked, smiling at Jorgen and Glynn by way of greeting. Of course, Jorgen and Glynn had no idea what Ron was talking about and probably thought he was reacting to a particularly tasty snack.
"Pardon?" Jorgen said, clearly trying to be as polite as possible.
"The M.M.M.," Draco clarified.
"Some of us," Hermione said, "get our jollies from poking fun at the Ministry's acronyms."
"I think we all get our jollies from that," Glynn pointed out. "Remember when there was that sub-department named D.I.C.K.S.?"
Jorgen snorted. "Harry used to make so many bad jokes about safe sex when D.I.C.K.S. was around."
"Hey!" Harry objected, but Draco didn't doubt it for one second.
"The Triple M is doing well, I think," Jorgen continued, smiling at Harry. "We've kept on everyone who was already working there from the U.K. and added more people where needed. The previous head still wants to retire, so we've been getting all the info from their team."
"Jorgen is heading up Nuclear Waste," Harry said, smiling proudly.
Not to be outdone, Draco added, "And Glynn is heading up Greenhouse Gases."
"And what exactly are you and Harry doing?" Ron asked.
"I'm dealing with government connections and international coordination," Draco said.
"He's doing the schmoozing," Harry added, unhelpfully.
"No—well, a bit—but not just schmoozing. I'm also making sure that we're ready to reintegrate with the British Ministry, once Hermione can get us de-privatised."
"And I've got a team that's doing strategic planning," Harry said. "Which sounds like I would hate it but actually it's awesome because what we're doing is making sure that hierarchical power structures don't fuck us up. And I'm all about that."
"He's putting his anarchism to good use," Draco said, smiling what he was sure was a somewhat dopey smile in Harry's direction.
"Well, I don't know about that." Harry frowned. "It's still an institution, you know? Even if it's not government, it's still. I dunno. Quasi-governmental? A non-governmental organisation? Whatever we are. But, since the Triple M really does seem like the best way to deal with our world's biggest problems, it still feels good. We're doing real things."
Hermione reached forward and threaded her fingers in Harry's hair, twisting a curl around her finger. "Do you miss your old work, Haz?"
"Nah," Harry said, leaning his head back to smile up at her. "I've had enough being a cop to last like, ten lifetimes. Plus, I've still got the important people around. Like Jorgen!"
A clock chimed and Wilhelm rotated out into the room. "I hope he's not the only one, boss!"
Harry smiled indulgently at the clock. "And Wilhelm, of course! Without whom I could never survive."
"Indeed," Wilhelm said, "I wood-n't argue with that! Also, Mr Ron, your potato whatsits are smelling mighty crisp."
"Shit!" Ron jumped to his feet and bounded towards the kitchen, Hermione following at his heels.
"Potatoes?" Glynn asked, and a moment later he and Jorgen were following the crowd, which seemed to be reassuring Ron that the potatoes were still edible. ("That burnt part can just be scraped off!" Glynn was saying.)
Harry focused his attention on the Scrabble board and played ORNERY off Draco's O. This game could go right off and fuck itself.
Albus and Scorpius walked in, Aster toddling in between them. She was wearing a tiny t-shirt that read ABCDEFGHIJKelemenoPQRSTUVWXYZ. "Da!" she said. "Pop!"
Draco, eager for any excuse not to play from his excellent rack of letters (EEEEERN), jumped up and swung Aster into the air. She giggled and grabbed at him. "Pop. I play game?"
"Sure thing," Draco said, keeping her well away from the board. He pointed at his letters. "What word should I make?"
She frowned. After a minute, she said definitively, "Bob."
Harry honked a laugh, then visibly controlled himself so Aster wouldn't think she was being made fun of. "Who's Bob?"
"Bob," Aster repeated.
"Oh, of course," Harry said, grinning up at them.
Over Aster's head, Draco watched James and Lily try to subtly relocate to a place where Albus couldn't see them. James was hiding the turtle behind his back, awkwardly spinning to keep it hidden as he crept into an adjoining room.
"Your tiles are schnitzel," Albus said, frowning at the board.
"Good one," Scorpius said appreciatively. The two of them were always trying to find creative ways not to curse around Aster.
"I'm aware," Draco said. "I'd like a word with the luck component of this game. It's complete shi—llings!"
"Oh Draco, do you need some sugar for those grapes?" Harry was such a smart arse. "Are they too sour for you? You play the tiles you're dealt, that's the game."
"Yes, well, and given these tiles, it does not appear that I will be winning this game."
"Poor Dad," Scorpius said, patting his shoulder with exaggerated pity. "We won't think less of you."
"I don't care what you all think of me," Draco groaned, grabbing one of Aster's stuffed animals off the sofa and lobbing it at Harry's head. "What I want is to rub Harry's face in my excellent wordcraft!"
"What can I say?" Harry asked, leaning back on his hands and flashing a shit-eating grin up at Draco. "You can't win them all."
Draco rolled his eyes and took hold of Aster's (sticky) hand, falling into a waltz with her. "Dance! Shake!" she cried, and when they reached the other side of the room, Draco said, "Some Slytherins might tell you that winning is everything." He spun them around, and her wispy curls floated off her head into the air as she laughed. In the distance, he could hear Jorgen asking to hear Hermione's speech, James whooping with Charms-related success that boded poorly for Albus, Nico and Teddy singing and playing guitar, and Harry laughing delightedly as he showed Albus and Scorpius how he'd played the zesty YAK. Draco leaned towards Aster conspiratorially and whispered, like a secret, "They're wrong."