Chapter Text
Eighteen months later
It was an unseasonably bright November morning. It was also an unseasonably warm one, though this had more to do with the permanent Warming Charms all around the Quidditch pitch than it did with anything else. Having lugged some things out there, Harry set down the most important one, then cast around for where he wanted to put the other.
"Thhhhhhh, thhhhhh," said Jack, pointing at something on the other side of Harry's legs.
Harry set down the food basket. "Getting to it," he said fondly. "You've got to have your charms on first, yeah? Show me your hands."
Jack, well-trained in this one specific thing and sometimes, Harry thought, in no other ones, put his hands out in front of him.
"Impervius Venenum," Harry said, and then cast again at Jack's ankles, just to be sure. "Off you go."
As Jack toddled a short way away, Harry sat down on the edge of the blanket and cast a few discreet Shield Charms into the grass ahead of him.
"Hi," he said to Draco, who had got himself sat out here before Harry had made it out with Jack and the basket. He was well set up with his quill and three stacks of parchment, and looked to be scratching away diligently.
"I can never decide if he's just imitating you, or if he really is trying to speak Parseltongue," Draco said, looking up from his scratching just long enough to send a fond look in Jack's direction, and then looking down again.
"Might just think that's what they're called. Since I'm, you know, always hissing stuff at them," Harry said.
"Maybe."
Some ten or fifteen feet away, Jack had fallen on his bum for the first time of this outing. Three feet away from his bum, a baby adder wiggled out of the way, hissing grumpily but no worse than startled, thanks not so much to the Shield Charm as to having been sunning itself three feet away. Jack got up and followed it some more, an activity he was likely to continue either for some time or for no longer than five more seconds.
"Be nice, Jack!" Harry called, which was a concept he'd have been more likely to have to jump up and enforce if any of the adders had been at all likely to actually be caught up with. He reached into the food basket and started bringing out things. "Are you going to be answering your fan mail the whole time?"
"You know I'm on deadline," Draco said.
"You should probably leave off on your fan mail until later, then," Harry said reasonably. "I know that's what you're doing, you never sneer at your books like that."
"If you insist." Draco set down his parchment and quill, and had a look around.
Harry looked around too. It really was a very pretty day: leaves had been falling steadily for weeks, but there were still enough of them on the trees to make for a lovely sight.
Probably the trees were not what Draco was looking at, because the next thing he said was, "I wish you wouldn't let him play with snakes."
"Don't think it counts as playing if he's not anywhere near them," said Harry. "Anyway, I cast an Impervius , it's fine."
"Mmm."
They watched Jack toddle around for a moment longer. The baby adders really weren't near him; they tended to move from their sunning spot whenever he got close, until they had managed to disappear themselves long enough for him to get interested in one of their siblings.
"Harry," Draco said.
"Yeah?"
"Don't let him play with snakes."
There was, Harry knew, very little point in saying he'd done it before and nothing had happened, or even that Draco had seen the nothing and the way it kept happening, all those other times. There had not been much point in arguing with Draco about things for a while now.
"He'll be fine," he said, but got up anyway. A second later he'd caught up with Jack, and a second after that had him slung over his shoulder.
"No, Daddy," Jack complained, giggling. Lately he had shown a talent for stringing two words together, so long as one of the words was 'no' or 'want.' He had also recently shown a talent for throwing tantrums, but being upside-down tended to distract him from them.
Harry waved his wand at the food basket, causing the pies he'd made to jump out excitedly onto the blanket. "Lunchtime," he said, which in this case meant he got to convince Jack to eat things that had been cut up into little itty pieces until Draco was done eating, when it got to be his turn to get some itty bitty pieces of things into Jack while Harry ate.
"You've outdone yourself, really," said Draco, the first sign he'd noticed that Harry had got up at five in the morning to start making everything. He did not, Harry had found, notice very much during crunch times, even when they happened around other really important stuff. "Is there some occasion I'm not aware of?"
"Nope," Harry said. "None that you're not aware of."
"Ah."
"I just thought it would be nice to get out. Since it was supposed to be a nice day, and everything."
It took Draco a little while to answer, mostly because he had Transfigured the fork in his hand into being a dragon, all to convince Jack to eat the last little bite of his chicken pie.
"Thhhhhhh, thhhhhh," said Jack, and opened his mouth wide.
"It is a nice day, isn't it?" Draco said, wiping Jack's face with a napkin.
"We're also celebrating," Harry said significantly. "And everything."
"I suppose," Draco said. "Though we've months left for that, and I won't be on deadline for most of them."
"Yeah, except you're going to write half your book in the last three days. So it doesn't really matter if you take a break before then," Harry pointed out, and did not feel he really deserved the unimpressed look he got for his trouble.
There was dessert in the basket too, but no time to get it out: Jack was tugging on his arm, trying to get his attention. As soon as Harry looked at him, he said, "Wan' f'y!"
"You don't want anymore to eat?" Harry asked. "I made sweets."
"Wan' f'y!" Jack said again.
"Alright, alright," Harry said. "Accio toy broom."
Jack's broom came flying over from wherever in the house it had got to. The next few minutes were spent making sure he was sat properly on it, before activating the charms that would keep him on it, and also the one that would let it hover no more than six inches off the ground.
"Off you go," Harry said, and off Jack went. Bobbing up and down, not really going any faster than he'd have done if he were trying to make a run for it, but without any of the constant falling on his bum that would have happened in that case. Too high off the ground to encounter any more adders, low enough and attached enough to the broom that they would be able to easily keep an eye on him from the middle of the pitch.
Harry took this opportunity to slide over to sit closer to Draco. "He's so great," he said soppily.
"Yesterday he shat the bath," Draco pointed out wryly. "Then cried his head off when you Vanished it instead of letting him play with it."
"Yeah," Harry said, aware that this had come out soppy too. Unable to help it, pressing a kiss to Draco's jaw, his hand already resting against Draco's roundness: not as large as it would be, in the weeks and months to come, but far enough along for them to have recently had a glimpse of precisely what they would be getting.
"You half looked like you wanted to cry your head off too," Draco pointed out. "And this was a repeat performance!"
"I'm not crying now," Harry said. "Mostly because next time is your turn to handle it."
"We'll see," said Draco.
Harry kissed him again, this time on the corner of his mouth. Jack was doing ovals around them now, nothing at all worth worrying about. Draco kissed him back with a pleased little sigh, the one that meant he was finally completely in the moment instead of worrying about the book he wasn't even going to try to finish writing until late next week.
A minute later, Draco said, breath soft against the side of Harry's face, "I've thought of one I like."
"Oh, yeah? What is it?" Harry asked, pulling back enough to see Draco's face.
"Dracarys," said Draco, with obvious relish.
"...What," Harry said.
"It's from Dudley's programme," Draco said.
"Yeah," Harry said. He had seen some of that. Back in the summer they'd got Dudley the permits to have his own Floo, given he was about to have a kid at Hogwarts and it might be important for him to be able to be reached quickly. The first week Deidre had been safely tucked away in the Slytherin dungeons had been the first week Dudley had started inviting them over every other night to catch up on his television programme with him. Harry had gone up until it had become clear it wasn't liable to have any less blood or naked people in it anytime soon. Since then he had mostly stayed home with Jack while Draco went, reckoning having to hear all about it later from a very excited Draco was both shorter and easier on the eyes than having to watch it for himself. "I meant, we can't call her that."
"Why not?"
"The other kids will make fun of her," Harry said. "Especially the Muggleborns."
"No they won't, they're all named Khaleesi," said Draco dismissively. "At least there won't be four Dracaryses in her year. It's perfect."
"You mean stupid," Harry said. Quick glance at Jack, who was still ovaling around them, if a little closer to the goal posts to their right than he had been before. There would hopefully not be four Jacks in his year, though it was probably too much to hope for for there not to be at least four Harrys. Deirdre seemed to have about six of them in her year, mentioned the other students and there in letters that were otherwise mostly about the mermaids she was befriending from the common room window. "Like, really stupid."
"Stupid how?"
"For starters, you don't have to tell dragons to breathe fire, they just do it. Ask me how I know."
"You're forgetting one thing," Draco said. Now he did a quick glance at Jack, which made Harry do another one too.
"What?"
"It's my turn, so I get to choose."
This was true, it was his turn. Harry had agreed to this months ago. Back when they'd started trying for another, before they'd known it was going to take all of about five seconds. Still...
"I get a veto," Harry said stubbornly. He had insisted on this, and Draco had agreed. At the time, when he'd been less hormonal but no less enthusiastic about so many weird things that a veto had seemed like a necessary idea. "And I'm using it. Come up with something else."
Draco looked at him, not so much hormonally as impatiently. So much for the theory that had begun to materialize in Harry's mind even as he'd said it: the one that suggested that Draco might be trying to get him to use up his veto on something ridiculous, so he could follow up by announcing the name he really wanted for her.
Draco looked at Harry through narrowing eyes, and said, "You forgot me. You threatened to divorce me."
There was a moment, then. One where Harry might have been flinched in hurt, and all the blood might have drained out of Draco's face. Harry didn't see it for what it was until it was over, he was too busy reacting.
"Noooooo," he moaned. "You can't call it in for this, that's not fair."
"I can and I am," Draco said.
Harry considered arguing about it some more, but only for a moment about as short as the previous one. He knew when he was beaten. More importantly, he had come to know when Draco was truly set on things. He was clearly set on this one.
"Dracarys, huh," Harry said. "Merlin, what a mouthful."
"Don't be ridiculous, it's only three sylla--we're losing Jack."
Harry turned to look where Draco was looking. Jack had stopped ovaling, and was now headed more or less in the direction of the trees.
"Jack!" Harry called out, getting up and starting toward him in long hurried strides. "Jack, get back here!"
Jack looked back at him, and, with a determined sort of look, turned back to the trees. His broom started bobbing ever so slightly faster. There was not really any danger whatsoever of him getting within fifty feet of the woods before Harry caught up with him.
"Jack!" Harry called again. He jogged the rest of the way there, then picked Jack up. He left the broom where it was at for now, dropped to the ground the second Jack was no longer on it.
"No, Daddy!" Jack howled. "No, Daddy!"
He kept up the howling until Harry was back at the blanket, by which time he was just crying, big loud little man tears that might make you think someone had died if you didn't know he was probably just upset about something like having to have his shoelaces tied, or asking for a sippy cup of juice and then being given one.
"Oh, darling," Draco said, in the voice that meant he'd start laughing if Harry caught his eye, and so it was probably better if he didn't try to. "Oh, come here."
Harry handed Jack over. A moment later he was sobbing into Draco's shoulder.
"Is Daddy being mean again?" Draco asked.
"No," Jack hiccuped.
"Yes, I agree, it's very mean and nasty of him not to let you go into the forest to be eaten," Draco said, soothingly and rubbing his back. He caught Harry's eye with a funny enough expression that Harry had to look away and fake a coughing fit so he wouldn't have a laughing fit instead.
The flurry of crying only lasted a minute or two longer. When it was over, Draco wiped Jack's face and had him blow his nose on the end of his robe, then Vanished the whole mess. Harry, watching this, felt as he often did that he was watching the two halves of his heart, walking around outside of his body. Soon to be the three halves of it. Sometimes he wasn't at all sure how he could survive it. Funny how he'd known a soul could be split, if you tried hard enough; no one ever talked about how much more easily a heart could be, without your even meaning to let it happen.
"Maybe we should go back in," Draco said. "I think it's time for a nap."
"No nap!" Jack declared, and clambered off Draco again. He toddled over to Harry and climbed into his lap.
"It's alright, you don't have to have one," Harry said, knowing a nap was a near-certain thing now; Jack always fell asleep after a crying fit.
"No nap," Jack said again. "Thhhhhhh, thhhhhh."
Harry looked to see what he was sleepily pointing at. This turned out to be the adder. She was always somewhere around the Quidditch pitch at this time of year, when they set up the Warming Charms for her and her family, as well as the Wildlife Repelling Charms for hawks and foxes and things.
"Hi," Harry said. "We're kind of having a moment here, sorry."
The adder's tongue came out, sniffing the air. "You should see to your young."
"Er, what do you mean?"
"He's speaking nonsense, he's obviously heat sick," she said. "You should put him in the river for a while, but be certain his nose is sticking out above the water."
Now Harry wanted to laugh again, and coughed a bit so as not to insult the adder, who had now spent enough time around humans to figure out when she was being laughed at. "He's trying to imitate me. You know, the way Draco does sometimes. It's just because he's still little. There's nothing to worry about."
"Oh. Well, if you're certain..."
"Yeah, I really am. He'll need a bath later, but not for heatstroke reasons. More like smelly ones," Harry assured her.
As the adder slithered off again, Jack said, "Thhhhhh, thhhhh. No bat'."
"Who said anything about a bath?" Draco asked, sounding baffled.
"Er," Harry said, looking down at Jack, who now seemed to be asleep. He petted his soft blond hair, which bowed down with every touch of his hand, and jumped back up again the moment it was absent. "I did. Just now. In, er, Parseltongue."
"Really," Draco said, looking gobstruck.
"Yeah," Harry said. "Wow, right?"
"Wow," Draco repeated weakly.
"Seems to be the day for new information," Harry said dryly. Dracarys, he thought. Well, maybe they could call her Dray, instead--but no, that was was too close to Draco. Cary? No, that was too close to Harry. It even rhymed, he was doomed. Fuck.
Well, he could figure it out later. It wasn't like he wouldn't have the time to.
They sat out there for a while longer. It was a really nice day, and the fact that it was happening in November made it that much nicer to just sit there and enjoy it. There were sweets left in the basket, and the treacle tart in particular was eatable with one hand once Draco had cut it.
After a few minutes, Draco got back to answering his mail, with the occasional snarky commentary. Later, Harry knew, he would likely lock himself in his office for a while, pretending he was working on his book when he was in fact pacing around getting worked up about how he wasn't working on it. Next week, there would be a few days when Harry and Jack barely saw him at all, as he frantically got around to finishing it. Harry was not sure how this would have worked out if he had gone to work at Hogwarts. Surely it would have done, one way or the other: but he hadn't gone back, and so they hadn't had to find out how Draco would have got his books in on time with Jack to watch after during the day.
Harry had been meant to go back to work in September. Teaching had been important to him before, whether he remembered it or not; it had stood to reason it could be important to him again now. He'd learned his lesson about dismissing things just because he didn't remember wanting them, and so he'd taken a sabbatical last year with the intention of returning this year. Once he and Draco had had more time together, and more time with Jack when he'd been so much littler than he was now.
Then Draco had fallen pregnant again over the summer, and that was one thing to worry about. Then August had come, and for some reason Harry hadn't been able to escape the thought that Jack was now the age he had been when his parents died. He had not been able to stop thinking about it, had not been able to stop worrying about it: what would happen to Jack if something happened to Harry. And it was stupid, because there was no chance of him being poisoned again, and anyway, his parents had died at home; and even more, if Harry died at work then he would still have Draco to love him. But no matter how stupid it actually was, the worry had reached a fever pitch by late August. It had only got better when he'd decided he wouldn't go after all. At this point, the worry had seemed to slip away--completely, and all at once except for the odd dream. So it had obviously been the right thing to do, even if his Mind Healer had added it to the list of things she thought they ought to talk about at every other session.
"This is nice," Harry said, when his arm was starting to fall asleep and Draco hadn't said anything for a while.
Draco looked up, flashing him a smile, like he knew just the way Harry meant it. "It is, rather," he said, eyes softening as he looked at them for a longer moment before he took another piece of pound cake to chew on and returned to scratching away.
"I'm really glad to be here," Harry went on. Meaning being out in the sunshine on a pretty day; meaning being home instead of in Scotland preparing to teach a class full of second years.
Meaning, more than anything else, being here in the life he still didn't remember choosing the first time; this life he'd chosen well once, and then had chosen again.