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“Party’s in an hour, boys, don’t be late,” Hermione’s voice said through the patronus, and the little animal dissolved into silvery mist as it sat cleaning one of its paws.
Harry looked back at Draco. “How about that anniversary shower I ran out on earlier?”
Draco smirked. “I think I could be persuaded.”
After showering—anniversary orgasms included—and dressing, Harry and Draco both Apparated to the Burrow. The party was in full swing, but fortunately for Harry, Hermione was standing at the gates to greet them. As they wandered around to the back garden, Harry managed to pull Hermione aside and whisper in her ear.
“I know you said you can’t tell me anything, but can I at least know what this party is for?”
Hermione patted his arm. “It’s a joint anniversary party for you two and Ron and I. We do it every year.”
“We do?”
Hermione smiled enigmatically. “You will.”
So he’d been right, Harry realised. This was the future. Or, at least, it was a future. As the Weasley family and all their friends gathered round them in the back garden of the closest place he’d thought of as home outside of Hogwarts, Harry wondered if it was a future he was lucky enough to actually get.
The party was enormous fun; everyone seemed to accept Draco’s presence among them without a blink. Lissa had come running out of the house moments after they’d arrived, Ginny running out after her, looking harassed. She’d taken one look at Harry and Draco and heaved a massive sigh of relief. “Good, you’re here,” she’d said. “I need a drink big enough to drop a hippogriff, excuse me.” And she’d gone off in a desperate search for alcohol.
All Harry’s friends were there; Neville and Hannah, Seamus, Luna, all the Weasley family, including Charlie and Evan and their little boy. There were numerous kids running around, most with shockingly red hair, and Lissa stood out from the crowd with her long waves of messy dark locks. Harry had trouble remembering all the names that Hermione thankfully whispered into his ear whenever he was climbed on or smashed into, but there was so much going on he didn’t think it was noticed. It was fun, and Harry realised with a wry grin that fun was something that had been lacking back in his normal life. Maybe his Hermione was right when she nagged him about spending too much time at work.
Evening had fallen around them, and Harry found himself sitting on a bench a little away from everyone else, watching with a confused smile as Draco spun a giggling Molly on the impromptu dancefloor. Something pulled at his leg, and he looked down to see Lissa climbing onto his lap.
“Hey there, ba-” He cut himself off. It felt like instinct to call her ‘baby’, but he didn’t know if that was what future Harry would do. He’d tried to avoid the little girl during the party, because she was so young and he didn’t want to inadvertently do anything to upset her. He glanced around for Hermione, but she was occupied by Angelina on the other side of the garden. He turned back to Lissa hesitantly. “Are you having fun?”
The little girl parked herself on his lap and studied him with serious grey eyes. They were a carbon copy of Draco’s. “You not daddy,” she said slowly, quietly.
Harry didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to say anything that would upset her. But he didn’t like to lie either, so he settled on, “No, sorry.”
“Who you?” She asked.
“Er, you can just call me Harry.”
“I Lissa,” she said, patting herself on her chest.
Harry smiled. “Yes, I know. It’s a very pretty name.”
Lissa smiled. “It two names.” She held up three fingers, then frowned down at them. She lifted her other hand to force down one of the fingers. “Lily Nar-Narssa.”
“Lily Narcissa?”
Lissa nodded. He couldn’t remember seeing any pictures of Mrs. Malfoy in the house, and he wondered if something had happened, or if she kept her distance after her son had married a half blood.
“Where daddy go?” Lissa asked, and Harry looked up to see that he huge grey eyes were filled with tears.
“I-I don’t know, baby,” he said, letting the endearment fall out as he tried to comfort her. “But he’ll be back soon.” He didn’t say when; he didn’t want to make a promise he might not be able to keep.
“Daddy come back?”
“Yeah, baby, daddy’ll come back.”
Lissa smiled and reached up a hand, patting him on the cheek. “You nice.”
“Why thank you, I think you’re very nice too,” Harry grinned, giving into the urge to stroke his fingers through her wild hair. It felt just like his own. Lissa curled up on his lap and hummed to herself as he played with her hair, just like Draco had done earlier, and by the time Draco found them, she was fast asleep and drooling on Harry’s shirt.
“Good to know she can actually get tired out occasionally,” Draco said, helping Harry stand up with his arms full of sleeping little girl. “Maybe we should ask the Weasleys to host a party every night, just so we can get her to sleep.”
“I think Molly would be perfectly happy to do just that, really,” Harry said with a quiet laugh. “We should probably get her home now though. She’s heavier than she looks.”
Together they said quiet goodbyes to everyone, Draco gratefully retrieving George, who turned out to be a huge purple stuffed dragon, from Ginny, and Apparated back home. Draco went to set the wards for the night while Harry walked up the stairs looking for Lissa’s bedroom. He found it next to the room he’d woken up in, the corners filled with wobbling stacks of toys and clothes strewn across the floor. He gently laid her down in the My Little Pony covered bed and eased her shoes off. She stirred slightly as he pulled the covers over her, and he stroked her hair to sooth her back down to sleep.
Harry stared down at her, dark waves of hair spread across the pillow, a small smile lifting the corners of her lips, her plump pink cheeks with creases from his shirt, and he wanted. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured.
He got up and went over to the door, but he had to turn around for one last look. “Oh God, I want her,” he whispered, his chest clenching at just the sight of her.
“Well good, maybe we’ll keep her,” Draco said from behind him. He smiled when Harry turned to face him. “You’ll be happy to know I’ve repaired the hole in the wards you ripped when you apparated from the bedroom this morning. You’re welcome, by the way.”
“Sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”
“Something I’m very much used to, believe me.”
Together they entered their bedroom and got undressed, sliding in under the covers. Draco wasted no time in positioning Harry exactly how he wanted him, using his chest as a pillow and hitching his knee over Harry’s thighs. “We’ll have to think of something nice to buy Ginny as a thank you present,” he said, pulling at Harry’s wrist until he began playing with his hair. “I think our little monster really ran her ragged today. Not that that’s unusual, she’s far too much like you.”
“Hey,” Harry pulled his hair, affronted.
“It’s probably because you carried her; she learned to be reckless and to jump before she looks before she was even born.” Draco drew circles on the skin of Harry’s chest as he spoke, his shoulders tensing slightly. “Maybe next time, it should be me.”
Harry’s heart beat wildly in his chest. “Next time?”
Draco shrugged, but Harry could tell that he was nervous. “We don’t have to. But it might be nice for Lissa to have a sibling.”
The image unfolded before Harry’s eyes, and they burned with unshed tears. In this future, he had everything he’d ever dreamed of, a partner, a home, a family, and he wanted it all so goddamned much it hurt.
“I think that would be nice,” he said eventually, when he thought he could keep his voice even.
Draco raised his head to look at him, his grey eyes hopeful. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Harry kissed him, putting all the words he couldn’t say into the kiss; how much he wanted this, how sorry it was that this wasn’t real, how he would give anything to be able to stay and make this his. When they parted, Draco snuggled back down onto Harry’s chest, and Harry let the sound of Draco’s even breathing send him off to sleep, wishing with all his heart that he could do it every night.
The first thing Harry became aware of was the smell; disinfectant and lemons. Then he heard the tell-tale subtle beeping and he knew exactly where he was. He’d been hurt on the job many times only to awaken again to the sounds of medical observation charms and the scent of freshly scrubbed rooms in St Mungos.
He didn’t open his eyes straight away—he wanted to stay in the dream he’d been having for as long as he could. Eventually though, he knew he’d have to face reality and he slowly blinked his eyes open, taking in the familiar view of a hospital room ceiling above him. He swallowed his disappointment and lifted his right hand to scrub at his face—his left was encased in something warm, and he wondered if he’d done enough damage to warrant a stronger healing charm on it. He didn’t look; he knew he’d be okay eventually, and he didn’t need to see whatever had been done to him.
“Harry, thank goodness you’re finally awake!”
Harry turned to find Hermione sitting on his right, holding his glasses out to him. He took them, and she came further into focus. Her hair was longer again, pulled back in a messy plait, and she looked tired. Books and parchment covered her lap, tucked down the sides of her chair and spread across the bottom of his bed.
“What are you doing here, you’re meant to be on honeymoon.”
