Archive of Our Own ^beta

Harry shaded his eyes against the spring sunshine, smiling fondly as he watched Mira arrange the doll-sized dishes on the small table he'd transfigured for her. It was a brilliant Sunday made doubly so by the prospect of a back garden tea party.

Mira had been born during the midst of the war in the summer after what would have been Harry's seventh year. She'd created quite a ruckus since her mother was unmarried and barely eighteen. Mira's bright copper hair eliminated any question as to who the father was. Well, at least as to which family to look to, temperament and circumstances narrowed it down to which brother. Not that Ron ever denied it. He was fiercely in love with both Mira and her mum.

As best mate, Harry was thrilled to become an adopted uncle, despite Mira already having more than enough of them. He loved spending time with her and soon became the preferred babysitter.

Now, nearly five years later, he'd become an old hand at it and occasionally took Mira for an entire weekend so her parents could spend a bit of time alone. As a result of the last one, four months ago, Mira (and Harry, if truth be told) was excitedly expecting a baby brother.

Peering over the lawn again, Harry noted that it appeared as if he had a little while left before everything was set up. He'd been told by the diminutive hostess that he had to wait until all was arranged just so for the tea party to begin. Not being able to sit quietly without interrupting Mira with questions as she worked, he was sternly relegated to the opposite side of the yard by the stairs that led up into his house.

Relaxing further as he sprawled across them, Harry tipped his head back and closed his eyes. He listened to Mira's chatter as she played, enchanted by her vivid imagination. She spoke to her dolls and imaginary friends as if they could understand and respond, discussing the day's events, what was on the menu for the party, and what tasks they each needed to perform before all would be ready.

There was a faint rustling sound before Mira let out a delighted squeal and clapped her hands together, drawing another smile to Harry's face.

"Mr. Bunny! What a lovely surprise. I'm so pleased you've arrived. And just in time for tea!"

Harry quickly covered his mouth with his hand, trying to discretely turn his laughter into a cough. Mira's greeting had been a perfect copy of her mother.

Prattling to her newly invented playmate, Mira continued on with her preparations. Harry tried to remember if he'd ever had such in-depth conversations with imaginary and inanimate objects when he was small. None that he could recall, but then again he'd learned early on not to make much noise and besides that he didn't have many toys to talk to in the first place.

Harry was pulled away from his maudlin thoughts about his own childhood by Mira's earnest discussion with her dolls about what each of them should wear for the party. "Miss Millie will wear the blue dress and Miss Daisy the green one," she concluded decisively.

For a moment Harry could have sworn he heard some scrabbling in the dirt, but dismissed it as impossible. Mira took after her mother and, unlike her father, was fastidiously neat. "Come, Mr. Bunny, you must meet Uncle Harry and get properly dressed up before we all sit down to tea."

As the sound of shoes tapping against the stone pathway neared, Harry straightened up and squinted against the glare of the sun. He didn't know what he was expecting to see, but he was dumbfounded by the sight of Mira cradling a small white rabbit like a baby. If he hadn't been so alarmed at the thought of his charge holding a wild animal that might bite or harm her in some way, he probably would have found the two of them rather adorable.

"Where did it… How did you… " Harry realised he was babbling and stopped to take a deep breath. "Mira, you should never try to pet or pick up a wild animal. You don't know what it might do. It could get frightened and hurt you."

Mira gave him a reproachful gaze. "I know that, Uncle Harry. This is Mr. Bunny and he's come for tea."

Harry considered reiterating the point, but before he could formulate the proper words, he was effectively silenced by a sudden lapful of rabbit. Interestingly, though Mr. Bunny appeared equally distressed by the change in their circumstances, it didn't struggle to get away. Instead, it stayed almost frozen in the position it had been unceremoniously dumped into, with its forepaws pressed against Harry's groin.

After a moment of indecision, Harry gave in to his desire to touch the soft-looking fur. Stroking his hand carefully down the rabbit's back, he was pleased to see that the action seemed to relax it a little. As he continued to pet it, Mr. Bunny shifted around until it was facing away from Harry, its twitching rabbit nose pointing back out into the garden.

As soon as she'd deposited her guest, Mira had crouched down to pick a few flowers that grew along the walkway. Now, Harry - and perhaps Mr. Bunny, as well - watched as Mira returned to the table. She carefully clothed Miss Millie and Miss Daisy in the dainty gowns that had been decided upon earlier, finishing off the outfits with ribbons and flowers in their hair.

With that completed, Mira sat each doll back in her chair, picked up her brush, gathered a few ribbons and the remaining flowers and skipped back over to Harry and Mr. Bunny. Harry was glad there wasn't a dress among her collection, because he didn't think Mr. Bunny would have tolerated that. As it was, he worried enough about the ribbons.

Mr. Bunny appeared not to mind Mira's attentions, however, sitting quietly while she brushed and cooed over it, allowing her to tie pink and purple ribbons around its neck and even place a couple of flowers between its ears. If Harry didn't know better, he might even have thought the rabbit was actually enjoying her labours, almost preening.

Mira stood back and regarded Mr. Bunny with a satisfied smile. Eyeing her uncle critically, she held out the brush. "Uncle Harry, your hair's sticking up."

The rabbit made a strange noise. Harry took the brush.

That taken care of, she collected Mr. Bunny and announced, "It's time for tea." Trooping over to the table with her, Harry wisely waited for further instructions. "There aren't enough chairs for everyone, and it wouldn't be right to take one from Miss Millie or Miss Daisy because they'd be frightfully put out." Harry managed to maintain a serious expression with some difficulty. "So you will have to share your chair with Mr. Bunny," decreed Mira.

Which was how Harry found himself perched on a seat designed for someone much smaller than he was with a teacup in one hand, a cucumber sandwich in the other, and a petite white rabbit daintily settled atop one knee.

"Isn't this a splendid tea party?" Mira exclaimed as she fed one of the cucumber sandwiches they'd made earlier to Mr. Bunny.

And Harry had to admit he rather thought it was.

That was the somewhat idyllic scene that Ron and Pansy discovered when they came to collect their daughter a little while later.

Mira leapt to her feet when she saw her parents walking towards them and scooped up her new friend. "Mummy, Daddy, meet Mr. Bunny," she introduced them happily.

"It's very nice to meet you Mr. Bunny," Pansy responded, her manner formal. She reached out and shook one of his forepaws. Mira giggled.

"When did you get the rabbit, mate?" Ron asked.

"I didn't," replied Harry. With a smile he added, "It's just here for tea."

"Very funny, Potter," said Pansy. She eyed him suspiciously. "You didn't get him for Mira did you? Because we've already said we weren't going to bring another pet into the household until after Red's born. So if you did, he'll have to stay here."

"No, really, I didn't buy it," Harry assured her. "It just showed up. Mira spotted it in the foliage. It's surprisingly tame and has been content to be part of the day's activities."

"Daddy, can't we take him home?" Mira pleaded.

Ron wisely deferred to Pansy, "Only if your Mum says so, sweetie. You already agreed to wait to get a new pet." He turned to his wife. "Someone has to look after it, maybe we could get Ginny to take him."

"Why would anyone need to keep it?" Harry asked, ignoring Pansy's warning glare. "Can't we let it back into the garden?" He gestured towards the bundle of fur Mira held. "I mean it's just a common rabbit."

Mr. Bunny's ears twitched backwards, dislodging one of Mira's carefully placed flowers. It looked severely offended and Harry felt an irrational need to apologise to it.

Thankfully Pansy spoke before he made a fool of himself begging a rabbit's forgiveness. Unfortunately she sounded almost as annoyed as the rabbit looked. "Honestly, Potter. That's a purebred Dwarf Blanc de Hotot, a far cry from your garden-variety English hare. He needs to be fed and pampered, not abandoned amongst the shrubs."

"Well then what was it doing under a bush?" Harry responded crossly.

Jabbing one manicured finger into Harry's chest, Pansy seemed ready for a fight. "Just because -"

"You know," interrupted Ron, "Hotots are a French breed, though I believe the dwarf strain was actually developed in Germany." Pansy and Harry had stopped and were staring at Ron, speechless. Even Mr. Bunny had an astonished look.

"What? I can't know stuff?" asked Ron defensively. "Percy used to show rabbits. You pick up bits after a while."

Ron studied the rabbit his daughter cuddled close. "His colouring is a little unusual though. I'm sure the breed has brown eyes, but his seem almost a dark grey. And what was he doing in Harry's garden?"

Harry noticed that Pansy's expression had turned thoughtful, almost calculating. "I think it best if Mr. Bunny stays here with Uncle Harry for now," she announced decisively.

Though Mira pouted, she remained silent. Young as she was, she'd already learned not to contradict her mother when she used that tone. The fact that Harry only narrowed his eyes meant that he had as well.

"Good, well that's all sorted then," Ron said a bit too cheerfully.

Pansy sent one last stern glance to Harry. "We'd best get going and allow Uncle Harry to settle Mr. Bunny in. We'll call him tomorrow and see how they are both doing, okay darling?"

Perking up a little at that, Mira dutifully handed Mr. Bunny over to Harry. "You be good," she admonished, though it wasn't quite clear if the instruction was meant for Mr. Bunny or Harry.

Mira and her parents collected Miss Millie and Miss Daisy and the rest of Mira's possessions, packing them into Pansy's bottomless handbag. The tea table and chairs were transfigured back into Harry's usual garden furniture and goodbyes were said.

"Oh, Potter?" Pansy turned back. "Make sure you put him in a cage before you go to sleep. That is if he still fits," she added. Giving Mr. Bunny a shrewd stare, Pansy almost seemed to say the next bit for the rabbit's benefit. "We wouldn't want him causing any mischief or running off, now would we?"

Oddly enough Mr. Bunny appeared to wilt a bit at the last statement. "Um, sure," Harry said as he watched them leave. He carried Mr. Bunny inside. "I wonder what that was all about. Do you know why she said that?" Huffing out a breath, he shook his head. "Great, now I'm talking to the rabbit."

Once in the lounge, Harry crouched down and set Mr. Bunny on the floor. Mr. Bunny hopped around to face him, rearing up on his hind legs so it could gaze at Harry's face. It appeared for all the world as if the rabbit was considering something vitally important. Toying absently with the ends of the ribbons around its neck, Harry returned the scrutiny. "What's your story, Mr. Bunny? Why were you under my shrubs?"

Mr. Bunny cocked his head to one side and Harry suddenly had the urge to run his hand along its furry cheek. Feeling awkward, he stood and switched on the telly. "I'm going to watch the game. You'll be okay here while I get something to drink, right? You're not going to piddle or anything?" he asked as he headed towards the kitchen.

If Harry had glanced back at Mr. Bunny he would have discovered that rabbits can actually roll their eyes.

When he returned with a Butterbeer in one hand and a small dish of water in the other, Mr. Bunny was in the middle of an exploration of the room. Harry flopped down on the sofa and regarded the rabbit's journey around the lounge with interest. It was currently sniffing at the bookcase and Harry had the disconcerting thought that it was trying to read the book titles. Deciding Mira's imagination must be infectious, he deliberately turned his attention back to the telly.

Harry tried to focus on the footie, but the thumping of Mr. Bunny's paws as continued to investigate kept drawing Harry's attention. The sound was niggling at his brain, tugging at a distant memory. Dropping his head against the back of the couch, Harry closed his eyes, trying to grasp the elusive thoughts. There was a steady rhythm as Mr. Bunny hopped across the lounge and suddenly Harry's mind was thrown back to a night four years prior. To the eve before the final battle. To the last time he had spoken to Draco.

They'd been having the same argument they'd had repeatedly as the ultimate confrontation against Voldemort approached. Harry had wanted Draco to promise to surrender himself to the Ministry after the fight. Draco had flat out refused.

"I'm not getting locked up, Potter. I didn't risk my life spying for that," hissed Draco.

Usually at that point Harry would have yelled something back about Malfoy protecting his pureblood arse and how the Order could make the Ministry see sense and that they'd need everyone to help rebuild after, but right then all he cared about was making it through the next day while losing as few people as possible. The friendship he had developed with Draco had become increasingly important to him, and the thought of it ending abruptly caused a dull ache in Harry's chest.

Harry clenched his jaw, turning away. "I told you I'd make sure you didn't go to Azkaban," he said tiredly. "Don't you trust me, Draco?"

Draco was next to him in two strides. "Harry, you know most everyone on both sides would sooner see me dead. Why do you think I made sure you were my contact?" When Harry still refused to meet his gaze, Draco pulled him into his arms and said, "I've trusted you with my life, you sodding fool," and kissed him fiercely.

Chocking back a sob, Harry clung to Draco. "Please, don't leave."

Draco had shushed him, rocking gently as he held him until Harry's exhaustion had won out and he'd started to drop off to sleep. The last sound he remembered from that night was a steady thumping of something soft against the wood floor that gradually faded away.

Harry had always wondered how Draco had managed to meet with him all those times without anyone seeing him, it was almost as if Draco had some kind of impenetrable disguise.

Neither Draco nor his body were found after the final battle. And since then there had been no sign of him either, though both Harry and Pansy had searched.

The sound of Mr. Bunny hopping towards him echoed through the memory along with Pansy's words "Make sure you put him in a cage before you go to sleep. That is if he still fits." Harry's eyes flew open and he jerked upright. "Bloody hell, Malfoy's an Animagus," he murmured.

Mr. Bunny froze as Harry rounded on him. "Is this your idea of fun, Malfoy? Hopping around the stupid Gryffindor's flat waiting for him to clue in that it's you?" Harry advanced on the rabbit, years of buried fear and anguish pouring forth. "You disappear without so much as a trace and think you can just waltz in whenever you want? Did you even consider how we might feel?"

Mr. Bunny's ears drooped back as he took a tentative hop towards Harry. The anger drained out of Harry replaced by a longing sadness. "I don't know why I expected anything different. You didn't even care enough to stick around." Harry's emotions mirrored those of so long ago, anxiety and misery born from an unrealised desire coupled with a desperate hope. Once again he turned away from the cause of those feelings and stared out the window. "Why are you even here?"

There was a scrabbling noise behind him and then a voice Harry had yearned for so much it hurt said, "Because you're the only one I trust, Harry."

Harry wanted nothing more than to take Draco in his arms and hold him and be held, but four years of not knowing kept him from it. He nearly yelped when Draco's hand clasped his shoulder and hesitantly pulled Harry around to face him.

"I know I have no right to ask, that I made my decision to fight this fight alone, however I'm tired, Harry. Constant running and hiding will do that to you. LeStrange nearly caught me last month. Thought you people would have taken care of him by now." Draco's lip quirked up in a wry grin that disappeared quickly when Harry didn't respond. "Please, Harry. I miss you so much. I can't do this anymore without you."

Harry finally looked at Draco, smiling softly as he realised that Mira's ribbons and flowers still adorned him. He took a deep breath. "Promise you'll say goodbye if you ever leave again?"

Draco clasped his hands behind Harry's neck, pressing their foreheads together. "I promise," he whispered.