Work Text:
With an intake of air, Draco dived into the freezing water and kicked his legs, eyes closed, a wave passing just above him dragging him as he swam. When he resurfaced, the sun, sneaking out from behind the clouds that had threatened to ruin their trip to the beach, bathed his skin, and he faced it, smiling to himself as another wave pulled him, lifting him as though in an attempt to bring him closer to the kiss of the sunlight.
He rarely felt as free as he did when he swam in the ocean.
Staring back at the shore, he caught sight of Harry, who was lying on his back on the sand; or in it, rather, seeing as their grandchildren were apparently throwing buckets of sand over him, burying him. Olivia was, as far as Draco could see, hitting Harry’s chest with her toy spade as her sister wrestled with his misbehaving foot.
Draco chuckled to himself and copied Harry’s posture in the water, not yet ready to face his granddaughters’ inexhaustible energy.
He let the waves carry him as he stared up at the semi-clouded sky, floating, floating. He always dreamed of the sensation of floating after days like this one.
The clouds, too, were floating with the wind, travelling, and Draco followed them with his gaze, thoughts taking on a journey, too. To the first time he and Harry had walked into the small cottage they had called their home for forty-one years now; to the moment he’d held Jo, and then Olivia two years after that, in his arms for the first time, both as small and as beautiful as their dad had once looked cradled against Draco's chest.
To the first time he’d felt as free as he did right now.
The scars had ached for a few days despite the Healers’ excellent job, and he’d been advised not to move too much at first so as to not stretch them, but as soon as Draco had been told it was completely safe for him to move freely, he had packed his swimwear—his trunks, and nothing else for the very first time—and had driven Harry and himself to the beach. He had pulled his shirt off and run toward the shoreline, leaving a confused Harry by their towels and bags. Had jumped into the freezing water, and had swum, and swum, and swum, his chest—his flat chest—singing like a bird set free.
He had grinned for weeks, after that. Had walked through life in a cloud of happiness. Had refused to wear a shirt at home until the summer melted away and the freezing November mornings forced him to take his woollen pyjamas out of the back of his wardrobe.
He was grinning now, too, as he let the fingers of a hand ghost over the faded scars on his chest; the wet, fine hairs that had grown over his sternum a few years after he’d started taking his HRT potions and that were now just another part of him, just as natural as the white hair on his head.
When the clouds once again covered the descending sun, at long last, Draco made his slow way back to his now-buried-to-the-neck husband and the two girls that were decorating the mound of sand that was Harry with seashells and stones. He sat down on his towel beside Harry’s feet and, smirking devilishly, wiggled Harry’s toe, which was peeking from under the sand despite Jo’s efforts, between two fingers. Harry pouted, though Draco could tell he was holding back a smile.
“Nice swim?”
Draco hummed, his grin widening when Olivia jumped into his lap even though he was soaked.
“Nice transformation into a beautiful mermaid?” he asked, pointing with his chin at the tail Jo was carefully drawing around Harry’s legs with a stick as Olivia giggled into his chest.
“Very much so,” Harry said, laughter bubbling in his voice. “I can’t believe I never considered this lifestyle before. All these years I’ve been trapped in a human body, not knowing the seas were always my true home…!”
Olivia laughed openly now, squealing with delight as she crawled on top of Harry and brushed the sand off of one of his knees, saying, “No, silly! You still have legs, see!”
As Harry gasped in feigned surprise, Jo groaned at her younger sister, telling her she’d ruined her tail and she’d have to start over now. Olivia ran away from her sister with another giggle and Jo ran right over Harry to catch her and topple her onto the sand.
“Giiiirls,” Draco called as Harry rested his head back with a grunt.
“These two are going to be the death of me.”
With another glance toward their grandkids, Draco turned to Harry and slowly, teasingly pushed the sand around his legs back up to cover his knee.
“Not if I beat them to it,” he said with a smirk.