Archive of Our Own

"No, he's not using any strange…. What? No, look he's –" 

Dudley pulled the phone away from his ear as the voice drifting through the receiver rose in volume and pitch with the man's excitement. Shaking his head in disbelief, he glanced across the room to where his son, Avery, sat repeatedly crashing a small plastic car into an equally minute ambulance. 

"Demonic possession?" Dudley demanded, head snapping forward at the absurdity of the notion. "You don't understand, Father. He isn't possessed, he's just –" 

The young priest spoke over him again, so Dudley did the most polite thing he could think of. He hung up. 

Avery paused at the sound and looked nervously up at his father. "Can they help me, daddy?" he asked quietly. 

Dudley gulped and shook his head. Crossing the room, he sank to sit cross-legged beside Avery. "No, they can't. But don't you worry, mate, we'll find someone who can, guaranteed." 

Avery nodded before turning back to his toys and leaving Dudley to his worries. There was nothing for it. He was going to have to call Harry. He might just be the only person who could help them, now… 

-

"Don't forget Mr. Henderson," Draco called up the stairs as Teddy scurried about above them. "I'm not Flooing Harry at bedtime because you forgot him again!" 

Harry chuckled behind his morning cuppa, then passed Draco the business section of the Prophet . 

"You could, you know," he said as Draco sat and neatly crossed his legs, leaning comfortably into the kitchen chair. "I don't mind."

"That's because you coddle the boy," Draco intoned, making eye contact above the paper. "If we want him to take responsibility for his belongings, we should encourage him to do so now, before he goes off to school."

The chuckle turned into an outright laugh and Harry nudged Draco's foot under the table. "Yeah? Where's your copy of Beedle the Bard?" 

One sleek brow arched and Draco set the paper aside to frown across the table. "Potter?" he asked. "Where's my copy of Beedle the Bard?" 

"My point, exactly. You don't know."

"No, I don't. You were meant to replace it, what, two? Three years ago?" 

Harry didn't bother to look contrite, simply grinned, popping a bit of sausage into his mouth and dusting his hands before rising and making for the stairs. "Better go help Teddy find that blasted dragon."

Draco scoffed and lifted the paper, once more. "Indeed."

Twenty minutes later, Teddy skipped down the stairs hugging the neck of a plush dragon with one hand and carrying his bookbag in the other. Harry trudged along behind him with his trunk in tow. 

"Alright, Ted, have a bite, quickly. We need to get going."

While Teddy ate, not at all quickly, Draco made his way to the entrance hall of Number 12 Grimmauld Place to retrieve his cloak and scarf, followed by Harry. 

"Are you busy Friday evening?" Harry asked, taking each article of outerwear as it was passed to him. "Hermione recommended that little bistro that opened up just off Diagon. Said their tiramisu was delectable." 

"That sounds lovely. Meet me after classes end, I'll arrange for Mother to collect Teddy."

"Perfect."

"Teddy," Draco called. "Come along!"

He watched as Harry bundled the boy into his cloak, kissed his forehead, and promised to see him in class. Then, Draco took his trunk and hand and led him out into the winter morning. 

-

"Potter," Harry said distractedly, lifting the shiny new mobile from his pocket to his ear. It had been a Christmas gift from Draco, who had proved himself quite smitten with Muggle technology in recent years. 

Frowning, Harry lowered his quill onto his desk and pulled the mobile away to scrutinise it before returning it to his ear. 

"Hello?" he tried again, just as the mysterious caller finally spoke. 

"Harry?" the voice asked. "Right, you already said that. Sorry."

The more the man spoke, the more confused Harry became. "Dudley?" he asked, interrupting the continued rambling, his frown deepening. "How did you –" but he paused. Aunt Petunia would have given him Harry's number, of course. "Why are you ringing me?" he asked instead, incredulous. 

"Erm, sorry, I know we're not – I mean, I know this is –" The squeal of a child's laughter drifted over the line and Dudley's muffled voice followed. "Avery, please, I'm on the phone." 

Harry's eyes widened in surprise. "You have a kid?" he asked without preamble. 

Dudley sighed heavily. "I do, yes. That's why I'm calling. Mum says you have a boy the same age; Edward?" 

"Teddy," Harry corrected, though he couldn't think of anything more to add.

"That's why I called, actually. I was hoping we might get together, catch up, some. You could bring Teddy, or – or not. If you want."

A knock at his classroom door drew Harry's attention and his eyes flew to the clock after seeing Draco peeking into the room. 

"Can I – I'm sorry, I've got to run," he interrupted again, waving Draco in. "Can I think on it and get back to you?" 

"Er, yeah. Yes, that's – Thank you."

Startled, Harry stared at his phone for long seconds after the call was disconnected. 

"Who was that?" Draco asked, resting one hip against Harry's desk. 

"Dudley," he replied dully. "He wants to meet, let his son and Teddy play together…" 

"He does?" Draco asked skeptically. "Why would he want that? I thought your relatives didn't approve of magic."

"Or witches and wizards, in general," Harry confirmed, finally looking up. 

Draco was just coming from his last class of the day, chalk dust on his dark trousers and his tie pulled loose, top button undone and hair dishevelled. He looked lovely. 

"We should get going," Harry said, discarding further discussion of his cousin and his odd behaviour. 

"Let's," Draco nodded in agreement. "I find myself in dire need of caffeine." He smirked when Harry shook his head, but stood up straight and offered his arm. 

Together, they left the school and settled into the short walk to Diagon and, beyond the Leaky Cauldron, into Muggle London. They chatted about the previous week throughout the walk and dinner. Though they worked together in the primary school Hermione had helped open after the war, they actually didn't see much of each other during the work day, so got together a few times a month. Harry looked forward to these meetings, as well as their weekly child exchange days when they'd pass Teddy back and forth. He and Draco had become something like friends in Eighth Year, and that relationship had only grown as they shared the responsibility of raising Teddy. 

"I think it's a good idea," Draco said as he settled his fork on his empty plate, confusing Harry as he polished off his own dinner. 

"What's that?" he asked around his last mouthful. 

"Your cousin's offer of a playdate. Teddy would love to make a new friend, and he is family."

Harry scowled. "That's not important enough to be a good reason, in this case," he argued. "Dudley made my life miserable, beyond what his parents did."

"I know," Draco assured him, reaching out to rest a hand over his, on the table. "I know. I also know he's had five years of space to consider that. It isn't easy to reach out to someone you've wronged, Harry." 

At that, Harry turned his hand under Draco's to return the gentle grip. "I know, Draco."

"I'm just saying, maybe you should give him a chance?" 

Harry swallowed hard, but nodded. "Okay. But you have to come, too."

Draco frowned. "Shouldn't Granger or Weasley go?" 

Harry laughed. "As it turns out, you're the least likely to punch him." Harry only just caught the look of surprise on Draco's face as he lifted the dessert menu to hide his own smile. 

-

"You excited?" Harry asked rhetorically, beaming down at Teddy as the boy bounced on the balls of his feet. 

Behind them, Draco rolled his eyes. Harry's love for Teddy was tangible, a living, breathing thing that had a habit of spilling out onto the rest of the world whenever they were together. Try as he might, Draco couldn't find it in himself to feel truly embarrassed by their behaviour. They were an adorable duo; man and child, father and son. 

Draco glanced away to keep from swooning. He was Harry's emotional support, not one of his simpering fans. Which is what he told himself every time he felt the bubble of longing rise in his chest. Which was often, if he were to be honest. 

The door swung open to reveal a tall, fit man of their age, with a small hand gripped tightly in the fabric of his trousers. 

"Harry," Dudley greeted with a little nod. "And, er…" he trailed off, his eyes flicking to Draco and back. "I didn't realise you were bringing your, erm –" 

"Sorry," Harry finally spoke, his jaw snapping shut. "This is Draco. It's a bit of a long story. You look… great." 

Dudley chuckled nervously. "Also a bit of a tale. Come in, sorry. Come along, Avery," he said, reaching down to take the tiny hand in his. 

The small boy with mousy brown curls and bare feet looked up at Harry as he stepped inside, but didn't say a word. 

"This is Harry," Dudley said softly. "He's our cousin. And, look, he's brought his son."

Teddy stood watching Avery quietly, matching his energy. He was already quite good at reading people and considerate enough to approach them at their own pace. When Avery smiled shyly and offered a little wave, Teddy beamed and held his dragon out toward his new friend. 

"This is Mr Henderson. You can play with him, if you promise to be careful."

Avery glanced up at his father, then back to Teddy and reached slowly for the toy. His smile grew warm as he gazed at it, then drew it into a tight hug. 

"Wanna see my room?" he asked, and Teddy nodded. 

As they headed in what must have been that direction, Dudley waved at Harry and Draco to follow him into the kitchen, where he reached into a cupboard for another teacup. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't expect both of you. I probably should have. There's no reason you wouldn't bring your – er? Husband?" he asked, clearly uncomfortable. 

Harry laughed. "No, we're, er… not married." 

"Of course, I'm sorry."

"Not remotely," Draco added, as it seemed Harry was content to leave it unsaid.

"No, Draco is Teddy's cousin. His aunt is Teddy's grandmother and her daughter, Teddy's mother, passed away shortly after he was born."

"Ah. I'm sorry for your loss," Dudley said, sincerely. "Were the two of you together long?" 

"Oh!" Harry said, startled. "No! I mean, I wasn't –" 

Draco rolled his eyes again. "Harry is Teddy's godfather," he explained, taking a seat at the table and accepting the teacup Dudley offered. "Teddy's father was a friend of the Potters and wanted Harry to care for him, if anything happened. Something happened."

Harry sat, a little too quickly, and Dudley followed with the teapot. "I see. That is a long story," Dudley agreed. "So, er… why's his hair blue?" 

Draco grinned. "It's his favourite colour."

"You dye his –" 

Harry cleared his throat. "Erm, no. He changes it himself," he said, pointedly. 

"Oh…" was all Dudley seemed able to muster. 

"And Avery's mother?" Harry asked as he doctored his tea. 

Dudley sighed heavily. "Another long story. She was my girlfriend throughout school, and I thought we'd be together forever but… when she got pregnant, she started to become distant. Eventually, she told me she'd never wanted children, and after… Well, we separated. Which was easy enough, as we'd never married."

"I'm sorry," Harry said quietly. "I can understand what he must be feeling. Is that why –" 

"He doesn't know," Dudley said stiffly. "That was four years ago and he barely remembers her. And I won't ever tell him he was unwanted."

Harry smiled softly into his teacup and Draco's shoulders relaxed some. At least the man loved his son. That was a good start into Harry's good graces. 

"What made you choose to reach out, now?" Draco asked. 

"I –" 

A crash rang through the small flat and Dudley jumped to his feet and dashed out of the room without a word. As Harry and Draco rose to follow, Teddy came barrelling in. 

"Avery can fly!" Teddy cried, excitedly. "He hasn't even got a broom!" 

Harry and Draco exchanged a look, then ran after Dudley. They found him standing on the toddler sized bed in the middle of Avery's bedroom, reaching toward the ceiling where his son floated near the thankfully still ceiling fan. 

Nodding to Draco, Harry moved to stand below Avery as Draco drew his wand and cast, guiding the boy slowly down into Harry's waiting arms. Harry immediately passed him to Dudley, then stood staring as his cousin hugged his son tightly. 

"This is why I called you," he admitted quietly. "Please, can you do something?" 

"Do something?" Harry asked, and Draco started at the ice in his voice. 

Dudley cast his eyes to the side, but spoke clearly, confidently. "Can you fix my son?" 

And Draco understood the ice. He watched Harry, waiting for his reaction. When it came, every fiber of Draco's being felt it, and he was glad he wasn't on the receiving end of Harry's anger. 

"There's nothing to fix," Harry said quietly. So quietly, you could almost miss the way his voice shook with rage. "Treat him like a human being, and he'll be fine."

"I just want my son to be normal!" Dudley cried. 

"He is normal!" Harry shot back. "This is normal, it's in his blood. As long as you treat him like a person, he'll be just fine!" 

Draco glanced down when he felt a small hand slip into his to find Teddy cowering behind his legs. The poor boy had never seen Harry like this before. Neither had Draco. Giving Teddy's hand a squeeze, he strode across the room and laid a hand gently on Harry's back, drawing his attention. He looked down at Teddy and his face softened. Reaching down, he pulled the boy into his arms and turned to face Dudley once more. 

"Watch your step, Dursley. I will send the ministry, if I have to."

"They've already been!" Dudley spat. "Your ministry. They want him to go to a school with other –" 

But he couldn't bring himself to say it. 

"Other wizards," Harry finished for him, and Avery looked up through his father's arms. "That's right, Avery. You're a wizard. And you're going to be fine."

With that, Harry took Draco's wrist, turned on his heel, and dragged them through the tight darkness of apparition. 

-

Hands still trembling with the force of his anger, Harry kissed Teddy's forehead, whispered "I love you, buddy," and gave him one last squeeze before passing him into Draco's waiting arms. As Draco left Harry in the parlour to put Teddy down for a much needed nap, Harry made his way directly to the liquor cabinet and poured two fingers of firewhiskey, downed it, and poured another. 

About halfway through that, and when Harry was mid-pace, Narcissa came sweeping into the room.

"Harry," she said shortly, clearly expecting someone else. "You're – are you the reason my wards are shrieking?" 

Harry cocked his head to listen for a moment, then looked at her quizzically. 

"They can only be heard by the caster. Harry, what's going on?" she demanded as she swept her wand in what Harry could only assume was the spell to end the alarm. 

"Mother," Draco said from the doorway just as Harry opened his mouth to reply. "Harry's just had a rather unfortunate experience, would you fetch some tea to go with his firewhiskey?" 

Harry glanced down at his half-full glass, then set it down sheepishly. Meanwhile, Narcissa's gaze darted between them briefly before she turned to do as her son requested. 

"I'm sorry, Harry. Please, do let me know if there's anything else I can do," she said quietly, and was gone before Harry could think to thank her. 

"Draco," he said, instead, as Draco moved toward him, taking his arm and guiding him to the sofa. 

"Come now, sit. I don't imagine the thoughts behind that rage were comfortable. I'm here, if you need anything, but I want you to take a few moments first."

Harry stared in disbelief. "Who are you?" he asked, dumbly. "Where'd you –" 

"I've been seeing a Mind Healer for five years, Harry. Their language is infectious."

A laugh escaped before Harry knew it was coming, quickly followed by another. And, before he knew what was happening, he was doubled over, one hand on Draco's shoulder, his own forehead resting atop that, tears streaming from his eyes. Before long, the unsettling laughter shifted and Draco's arms came around him, holding him as he sobbed. 

"That's it," Draco cooed. With one hand, he rubbed gentle circles on Harry's back, the other cradling the back of his head. "Let it out."

"He – he – how dare he talk about – his own – son that way?" Harry demanded through hiccoughs that indicated he was nearing hyperventilation. "His – his one job is making th-that boy feel –" 

"Shhh, I know Harry. I know."

"– loved !" Harry's hands fisted in Draco's crisp white shirt, wrinkling the fabric that was softer than it appeared. "Do you know what he di-did?" he demanded. 

"Tell me." 

"One – one time –" Harry stopped, sat up and dragged a hand through his hair, took a deep, steadying breath, and wiped the tears from his eyes. "One time," he began again, making sure to breathe. "Uncle Vernon locked me in my cupboard for a week. No school, little food. I was starting to think they forgot about me. When they finally let me out, I was so happy to be able to stand up properly, to walk. And – and he told Vernon I did something strange . Never said what, didn't bother trying to come up with a lie. Just something 'strange'. Vernon beat me and put me back in the cupboard for another week."

When Harry finished, he glanced up to gauge Draco's reaction, fearing pity. But all he saw in those haunted eyes was understanding. 

"Do you think Avery is in danger?" Draco asked calmly. 

Gulping back more tears, Harry shook his head. "No. No, the way he held Avery when we got him down, the fact that he kept him when his mother left. He – he loves his son. He won't hurt him. Not like they hurt me."

"Okay." And Draco reached forward to draw Harry back into his arms. Harry went willingly, exhaustion drooping his eyelids and slumping his shoulders. 

"Thank you," he murmured, allowing his head to rest on Draco's shoulder, just for a moment. 

-

When Harry woke some time later, it was to find his head cushioned in Draco's lap. Draco was sat in the corner seat of the sofa, his head resting heavily on his fist, elbow propped on the arm of the sofa, and one arm draped over Harry's shoulders. Harry stared in wonder. He rarely had the chance to see Draco like this; unguarded, sitting cross-legged and barefoot, his hair falling loose from its potions around his face. He looked peaceful, content to sleep in what should be a rather uncomfortable position. 

Yawning, Harry sat up slowly, pushing his own hair back from his face and staring thoughtfully at Draco. The man had changed quite a bit since their school days. Since the war. Everything Harry had believed about him was wrong, and he'd come to believe much kinder things. Such as, Draco was a good father. He was kind and patient with Teddy, yet also firm and disciplined, ensuring Teddy would grow into a responsible young man. He was a good friend, caring and compassionate. Willing to be a shoulder to cry on – quite literally, as it turned out. He was a patient and passionate teacher. Though he taught primary school grammar and mathematics, he did so with infectious enthusiasm and an engaging love for the subject matter. 

Harry thought he knew this man well enough by now to know what to expect of him, but he hadn't expected the kindness and care he'd shown that night. His heart swelled painfully in his chest when Draco shifted in his sleep, his head drooping a bit closer to his chest, and Harry knew he was well and truly screwed. 

It was one thing to admire a man for the character growth he displayed, to appreciate him for the friendship he offered, but Harry could feel that line blurring when all he wanted, in that moment, was to lie back down and snuggle into the surprising warmth of Draco's arms. 

Shaking his head, he stood, moved slowly to the Floo, and left without a word. 

-

"Here, Teddy, you take this to Molly, please," Draco said, passing a stack of cloth napkins to the boy and pointing to where she stood near the long table bisecting the Burrow's overgrown garden. 

As Teddy ran off, Draco peered around the room, through a haze of pipe smoke and flour dust, looking for Harry. He should have arrived by then. Instead, he found Pansy striding toward him with Blaise on her arm. 

"Draco, darling," she greeted, kissing his cheeks and embracing him briefly. 

"Pans," he returned. "You should be more subtle, dear. Ginevra will raise hell if she finds you showing off her man this way." Draco winked up at Blaise as he took his friend's hand and Pansy snorted inelegantly. 

"She wouldn't dare. Not after the last time. Her mother's wrath knows no equal."

"Oh, please," Ginny piped in, sidling up to them and slipping an arm around Pansy's waist. "Mum's a walk in the park compared to you."

Pansy hummed in agreement as Ginny leaned in and captured her lips in a smacking kiss. When she pulled away, Pansy shot Draco a glare that didn't quite make its mark. 

"Did you just call me a man?" she asked, as if the jab had initially escaped her notice. Nothing escaped Pansy's notice, ever. 

"Have any of you seen Harry?" Draco asked, ignoring her. 

"He hasn't made it inside, yet," Ginny offered. "He stopped to talk to Ron and Hermione and coo over the baby."

He thanked her with a nod and turned to wade through throngs of Weasleys toward the garden door. 

"Yes, that's just it," Hermione was saying when he found them. "Oh, Draco, good. I really think you should both know this."

Draco nodded a greeting to Ron, held his hand out to take the bottle of firewhiskey Harry habitually brought to these dinners, and brushed a kiss on Hermione’s cheek before he stilled enough to take notice of her words. "What is it?" he asked, settling into place at Harry's side. 

"It's about the school," she began. "Or, a student at the school. Well –"

"'Mione," Ron groaned, adjusting the bundle on his shoulder that was their daughter. "Just say it."

Hermione’s eyes flicked between Harry and Draco nervously for a long moment as she stood, wringing her hands, then she dropped them to her sides and took a deep breath. 

"A team was sent to welcome a new Muggleborn wizard and his family to the wizarding world," she said in a rush. Even as she said the next words, Harry's jaw was tightening, his brow furrowing. "It was –" 

"Dudley," Harry finished for her with a curt nod. "So, Avery will be joining us, after all?" he asked. 

"Er, no," Hermione admitted. "He refused us. But they told him how to reach out. Surely –" 

"He won't do it," Harry said bitterly. "He called me. Asked me to 'fix' him."

"Oh, Harry," Hermione gasped, just as Ron bit off an oath. 

"You want me to send a team to his flat, Harry?" Ron asked, Auror authority ringing in voice. 

Harry shook his head. "Not yet. Send another welcoming committee round, first. Have them check up on Avery."

"I could go," Draco offered. "He may not allow the ministry in, but I imagine he'd think I'm safe."

Harry frowned. "No, Draco. I don't think that's a good idea. The ministry is trained to –" 

Draco held up his hands in surrender. "It was an idea. Give it some thought."

"I don't need to give –" 

"Harry, dear! You're here," Molly cried, bustling over and engulfing Harry in her arms. "Come to the kitchen, dear. It's nearly time for that whiskey." She held out a hand to take the bottle Draco held, then swept Harry away with a knowing look at the rest of them. 

"I take it Molly knows?" Draco asked, crossing his arms casually and smiling down at the baby, now flailing her little fists and rocking precariously in Ron's arms. 

"Mum knows everything," Ron said cryptically. "She says she even knows when you and Harry are getting married."

Draco's jaw dropped and he stared after Ron, who was already making his way inside, Hermione at his side, glancing back and giggling. 

-

Dudley traced their route on his map, marking where they'd stop for the night and where they'd get out and stretch their legs. 

Groaning, he tossed his pen to the table and dropped his head in his hands. This was their third faith healer in a month and he was beginning to lose steam. He decided it was time for a break. Rising, he crossed their small kitchen, flipped the switch on the kettle, and leaned back against the counter, closing his eyes briefly. 

"Avery!" he called, then jolted when he heard a squeak from the doorway. 

When he opened his eyes, Avery was floating a foot from the floor, and rising. Dudley dove forward and caught him round the ankle. He gave a tug, but nothing happened. He continued to rise. 

"Avery, come down," he demanded, feeling panic creep swiftly up his spine. 

"I'm sorry, daddy!" Avery cried, tears streaming down his cheeks, arms flailing madly about. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!" 

"I didn't mean to, Uncle Vernon!" 

Dudley shook his head, but the echoes of his past refused to budge. He could almost see the enormous beast of a man towering over his father, as he had on that long ago night. 

"We swore when we took him in we'd put a stop to that rubbish," said Uncle Vernon. "Swore we'd stamp it out of him! Wizard, indeed!"

"Stamp it out of him," Dudley mumbled, thinking of everything his father had done to stamp the magic out of Harry. Of everything Dudley had done. 

The kettle began to shriek, startling him back to the present. Staring up at his son quietly sobbing, feeling the shaking in his leg, Dudley's eyes widened and he pulled again. This time, Avery floated slowly down into his arms and Dudley wrapped them tightly around him. 

"What am I doing?" he asked aloud. "You – oh, Avery." Sinking to the floor, Dudley knelt and set Avery down gently. "Avery, no. You haven't done anything to be sorry for. I'm sorry. You're going to be fine. Everything is going to be fine."

When Avery had calmed down enough to eat, they had supper. Dudley put on a happy face for his son, but Avery was despondent, pushing absently at his food between bites and wiping the occasional tear from his eyes. 

Dudley felt like a monster. 

He had behaved like one, he told himself. He'd made his son fear him, fear himself. He'd become his father, he thought. 

After Avery was asleep, Dudley went to the kitchen and reset the kettle. He needed something to settle his nerves. As it brewed, he reached into the drawer he hadn't opened since the men from the Ministry of Magic had visited, pulled out a shiny business card that shifted images every time he looked at it. 

A school, he thought. Full of children just like Avery. Magical. Witches and wizards. 

But what would they do until then? he wondered. Harry hadn't gone away to school until he was eleven. How was he supposed to keep his son from floating away for six more years?

There was only one way to get the answers he needed. Sitting heavily at the table, he examined the card closely, looking for a telephone or fax number, an address, any way to reach out to the men who had come. 

The front – what Dudley assumed was the front – of the card depicted a large and imperious medieval building, etched into the soft metal of the card and difficult to see in detail against the light reflected off the surface. The back was similar, though the etching there shifted as if alive, image after image he couldn't decipher, coats of arms, mascots, logos. But they shifted so rapidly, so sporadically, he hadn't the time to study them properly. He gave the card a tap with the tip of his finger, hoping to still the movement. Nothing happened. 

A knock sounded at the door, startling Dudley a moment before the kettle sounded for the second time that night. He cursed, rising from the table. Knowing the kettle would shut itself off, Dudley opted to answer the door. The time escaped him, but it was late enough that anyone knocking must have a good reason. 

"Mr Dursley?" the stranger asked, glancing at his partner for a moment. "My name is Marl Fernsby and this is my partner, Jestille Dankworth. Thank you for reaching out. How can we help?" 

"Reaching out?" Dudley asked, confused. 

"You are the father of Avery Dursley, are you not?" Dankworth asked, eyeing him. 

"I am. What's this about?" 

"Forgive me," Fernsby spoke again. "You were visited some time ago by our colleagues. They left a card for you to contact us, if you changed your mind about your son's attendance at –" 

"I –" Dudley began, then frowned. "I didn't contact you, though. I was just looking at the card, just now, and I couldn't find a way to –" 

"Yes, sir," Fernsby nodded, a sly twinkle in his eye. "May we come in?" 

Baffled, Dudley nodded and stepped away from the door. "I'll just put the tea on."

-

"I'm going to go."

Harry growled, tugging on his hair in exasperation. "Draco. We've been over this. He's not going to –" 

"It's been months since we saw them, Harry. He needs help."

Draco bent to put their carry out trays in the refrigerator Harry had installed in his kitchen shortly after settling in. They'd already been arguing about this since they left the restaurant and Harry was reaching his breaking point. "He needs a Mind Healer, not a primary school maths teacher!" 

Draco rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "Nice, Harry. I'm just concerned about both of them. It's an enormous adjustment."

"That's why Hermione started the task force, you know, whose job it is to help him adjust?" 

"If he isn't accepting their help, no one else is going to go."

"If he isn't accepting their help, what makes you think he'll accept yours?" 

"I'm persuasive, damn it," Draco snapped. "I'm going."

"Draco –" 

"It's the right thing to do, Harry."

Harry stilled, eyes scanning Draco's for… who knew. Something. 

"I can't, Draco," he finally admitted, defeated. "I can't do the right thing, this time. He's done –" 

"Is that what this is about?" Draco asked, understanding in his voice at last. He crossed the room to stand in front of Harry, his hands coming up to rub gently at his arms. "Harry, I – I'm sorry. I know you can't. I wasn't asking you to. Frankly, I don't think you should."

"How can I let you go without me? He's my cousin; it's my problem." 

Draco scoffed. "His son is a wizard, Harry. It's everyone's problem, now."

"Are you sure, Draco?" Harry asked, unable to find the peace of mind to laugh. And Draco stepped closer, encircling him in his arms. 

"I'm sure. It will be fine, I promise."

-

Draco tried to believe that as he stepped up to the door of Dursley's flat. He knew it was true, but it felt impossible, in that moment, when anything could happen. Swallowing his nerves, he raised a fist and knocked. 

He heard a crash and a curse through the thin walls before Dudley Dursley appeared, looking harried and out of breath. "Yes?" he barked, as soon as the door opened, then paused when he saw Draco standing before him, wearing pale blue robes and a grim expression. 

"For fuck's sake, get in here!" he demanded, reaching out to drag Draco through the door. "I thought you people were all about secrecy and whatnot."

Draco stumbled, then caught his balance and glared at Dudley. "I'm using a Disillusionment Charm, Dursley. No one else can see me."

Dudley had the good grace to look guilty for manhandling him, but only briefly. "So I looked like I opened the door and shouted at thin air. Is that supposed to be better?" 

Turning, he waded through the toys scattered about the flat, calling out to Avery as he went. "I've asked you to tidy up three times already. What are you doing?" 

Avery came scuttling out of his bedroom down the corridor and began picking up toys quickly. "I'm sorry, daddy. I forgot."

Dudley harrumphed. "You were rearranging your bookbag, again, weren't you?" he asked, but his eyes softened. "Say hello to Harry's friend."

"Hullo," Avery muttered shyly, glancing away and back at Draco a few times. 

"When you're done, come in the kitchen, buddy."

Avery nodded and went back to collecting his toys. 

Draco smiled and followed Dudley into the kitchen. "He seems like a good kid."

"He's a great kid," Dudley corrected. "He's just a bit shy. School should help with that. He needs friends." He waved to a chair and turned to busy himself making tea. 

"Is he starting soon?" Draco asked, sitting and linking his fingers atop the table. 

"Yes, on Monday. He's thrilled. He's rearranged his bookbag several times. I think he just likes seeing all of his new supplies."

Draco found himself chuckling. "I never went to primary school, but I remember how exciting it was to get new supplies when I went to Hogwarts. Shiny new cauldrons and scales, dozens of quills."

He laughed again when he saw the look on Dudley's face. 

"I… I didn't know what to get," he said, sliding into the chair opposite Draco. "Will he need a cauldron and quills? A wand, I suppose."

Draco frowned, then leaned forward. "Why would he need –" He paused as realisation dawned. "You've enrolled him in our school?" 

Dudley sighed. "What choice have I got? If I want him to have a normal childhood, he'll need to be around people who understand him, won't he?" 

His mind whirling, Draco nodded thoughtfully. "So, I don't need to convince you it's in his best interests?" 

"Not as such, no. But, since you're here, I wouldn't say no to a little advice." He leaned forward, propping himself on his elbows. "Will he need those things? They told me he wouldn't be allowed a wand or – or a broom until he started at Hogwarts. Or whichever school he gets into." 

Draco nodded again. "That's true. Underage witches and wizards aren't allowed to do magic outside of school, but the primary school isn't about teaching them to do magic. It's about teaching them the basics, reading, writing, maths and science."

"Science? I thought –" 

"Much of magic is science," Draco said, glaring mildly. "They need to have an understanding if they want to get the most out of their education."

"Ah," Dudley breathed, nodding as if he understood, though the look on his face clearly said he didn't. 

"To answer your question; no, he won't need those things at this time. If you want to get them for him, that's up to you. I could recommend some decent kits for beginners, since he won't be able to watch you the way many children in our world do."

"Is that dangerous?" 

"No. It's basic experiments designed to help them learn to measure and mix properly. There's nothing volatile and none of them use fire."

Dudley nodded slowly. "I should probably be writing this down."

Draco smiled reassuringly. "Relax. You won't be tested. I can send you a catalog."

"Thanks," Dudley sighed. "He'll be in the same class as your Teddy, won't he? Can you tell me anything about the teacher?" 

"The teacher?" Draco asked, incredulous. "Didn't anyone tell you? The teacher for his age group is Harry."

"Harry?" Dudley groaned. "Harry is a teacher?" 

"I thought you'd asked after him. He said your mother gave you his number. Didn't you ask her anything about him?" 

Dudley slumped low in his chair. "It didn't occur to me. I'm sure Harry's told you, I wasn't kind to him when we were young. I'm still learning how not to be selfish. All I could think of when I talked to mum was Avery floating off into the stratosphere."

"Well, that's understandable. Yes, Harry's a teacher. He wants to spend some time teaching the younger kids, then move up to Hogwarts and take the Defense Against the Dark Arts position, if it becomes available in the next ten years or so."

"Will… will he hold the way I treated him against Avery?" 

Draco sat up straight, offended on Harry's behalf. "He wouldn't dare. He experienced a professor like that at Hogwarts."

Dudley nodded again, still looking unconvinced. "I wouldn't blame him if he did, you know. I was really terrible to him. I'm not sure he'll ever –"

Draco halted him the same way he usually stopped Harry when he was he was beating himself up; he slid a hand across the table and laid it gently over Dudley's.

"It's going to be fine," he promised. "Harry may need time, but he was already on the brink of forgiveness once. He'll get there again."

"He was?" Dudley asked. 

"Yes." Draco gave Dudley's hand a reassuring pat before pulling it back to cross his arms. "Before you asked him to fix your son, who is not broken," he chastised firmly. "Did you really think that would go over well?"

Dudley flinched, but squared his shoulders. "I understand why it hurt," he said. "I'll add that to the list of apologies I owe him."

"That's a good start," Draco said with a nod. 

With that settled, Draco steered the conversation back toward school and the wizarding world, in general. By the time they'd finished their tea, Dudley had agreed to attend a Quidditch match later that month, and Draco felt certain his promise to Harry was true; everything would be fine. 

-

Harry was alternating between pacing the floor of the drawing room and sitting in his favourite chair by the fire, his foot tapping restlessly. At one point, Teddy had come down to ask about lunch, and Harry had nearly jumped out of his skin at the request. 

He needed to calm down; he didn't even know what he was so worried about. Dudley couldn't hurt Draco, he was too competent a wizard. Draco wouldn't hurt Dudley, he was too good a man. Harry supposed he was most anxious about Avery. He hoped the boy was safe. Draco had been gone so long by this point, Harry was sure something terrible had happened. 

As he was setting a plate of pasta in front of Teddy at the table, the front door creaked open and the plate in Harry's hand wobbled, nearly spilling the bright red sauce down Teddy's front. He apologised quickly, then made for the door just as Draco waltzed through, whistling. 

"Hello, Harry. Teddy," he greeted, taking a seat at the table. "That looks delicious!" 

Harry grit his teeth but didn't want to shout in front of Teddy, so took a deep breath and asked, politely, "Would you like some?" 

"Hmm? Oh, no, thank you Harry. Dudley fed me." He chuckled and Harry frowned outright. 

"Perhaps a drink, then?" he offered. Rounding the table, he pulled Draco from his seat by his collar, and dragged him to the drawing room. 

"Hey, watch it!" 

"You watch it! I've been watching the clock for over an hour! What happened?" 

"Everything is fine, Harry," Draco assured him, folding his collar neatly back into place. "I promised it would be, didn't I?" 

"What is fine? What does fine look like?" 

Draco crossed the room to pour himself a drink before turning to Harry with a sly smile. "Fine looks like a single father doing what's best for his son. You should probably begin planning for a new student; he starts Monday."

Harry stared for a long moment after Draco finished speaking, unsure that he'd heard right. Then, a smile split his face and he propelled himself the short distance between them to scoop Draco up in his arms and into the air, causing him to drop his glass. Harry cleaned the spill with a thought. 

"Show off," Draco laughed, wrapping his arms around Harry's shoulders. 

"I don't care! You did it!" 

Draco laughed again. "I didn't do anything, you prat. He had already enrolled Avery last week."

Harry frowned, looking up at Draco with confusion. "He did?" 

"He did," Draco nodded. "He's coming around, Harry," he said, lifting a hand to cup Harry's cheek. "It'll take time, but he's getting there."

Before he knew what he was even thinking, Harry leaned forward and captured Draco's lips in his, pouring everything he had into the kiss. Draco, though, jerked back and gazed curiously into his eyes for a long moment. 

"Harry, I –" 

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have –" 

But Draco's lips were back on his, his arms wrapped tightly around Harry's shoulders once more. 

-

"Avery, slow down," Dudley laughed when the boy began tugging on his hand the minute they were in sight of the school. 

"There it is, Daddy! Let's go!" 

As soon as they'd crossed the road and stepped onto the grounds of the rather ordinary building, Dudley spotted Harry and Draco greeting students, so released Avery's hand and let him run the rest of the way on his own. 

"Avery!" Teddy cried, his blue hair shifting to muddy brown and back rapidly. 

"Hi, Teddy!" Avery called back as Harry and Draco followed Teddy at a more sedate pace. 

"Hello, Avery," Harry greeted. "It's lovely to see you again." 

Avery shrunk a little, still unsure of Harry. "Hullo," he said quietly. 

"Avery," Dudley said as he reached them. "Harry's going to be your teacher. Isn't that nice?" he offered Harry a warm smile, pleased when it was tentatively returned, then hunkered down to his son's level. "Remember what we talked about, Avery. I made Harry very angry that day, he wasn't angry with you and he is actually very nice."

Avery nodded, though he still looked sceptical. But there was nothing more Dudley could do, so he gave his son a brief hug, then rose to face Harry again. 

"I owe you an apology," he said, swallowing his own nerves. "Maybe we could grab lunch sometime, talk?" 

Draco's hand crept into Harry's and he glanced at him before smiling back at Dudley. "I'd like that."

Dudley nodded just as the bell rang to usher the children inside, and he watched as Harry guided their boys into the school together.