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December 2000
'For you, I would,' he had said so confidently.
Harry felt sick to his stomach. What had he been thinking? This was the last place on earth he wanted to be, especially during Christmas. The large Christmas tree in the corner of the dining room seemed too formal, the decorations around them cold and impersonal. The general atmosphere of the room made him shiver internally. Nothing in this place reminded him of the cosy warmth he associated with Christmas from Hogwarts and the Burrow.
It felt as though he was slowly slipping out of some trance or other, waking up after a fantastic dream. The faces around the overly large dining table were stiff and serious, every body poised in polite discomfort; perfect imitations of how he felt inside. Harry wanted nothing more than to run out of there and never look back. Sweating, he forced himself to swallow his mouthful of turkey. It slowly wound its way down his throat like sandpaper.
“So, Harry. I hear you are on your way to becoming a respectable Auror.” Lucius Malfoy stared haughtily at him from across the table, his sharp nose pointed upwards, his eyes cold.
Harry suddenly felt like he was twelve years old again. He collected himself, however, and, with a voice sharper than he'd intended, said, “Yes. I've always wanted to hunt down and punish those who practise the Dark Arts.”
“How very admirable of you,” said Narcissa Malfoy, a strained smile adorning her pale face.
Draco, who was sitting on Harry's right, gritted his teeth, his jaw tight. Harry knew then that there was no way this was going to work.
The row that followed could have torn the house down.
“I asked you to tone it down with your righteousness in front of my parents!” said Draco angrily.
“Well, it's not like it's my fault they're involved with the Dark Arts! What the hell was I supposed to say?” Harry bit back.
“I don't know. Maybe that your boss is happy with you? You like your job? Anything! But no, you just had to basically tell my parents that you're out to get them!”
Harry ground his teeth together. “There wouldn't have been a problem if they hadn't been involved in the Dark Arts, though, would there?” He was properly angry now. It felt like they were stuck in the same old argument, only now his rose tinted glasses seemed to have disappeared.
Draco was fuming. “How the fuck do you think my parents are going to support our marriage now, when you talk to them like that, in such a disrespecting way?”
“I'm starting to think that having the Malfoy's as my in-laws was a bad idea to start with,” said Harry with cold fury. He didn't care what his words might do – Draco was being a dick and Harry was seething. The two of them were like oil and water. It was a wonder they'd even gotten this far.
Draco looked murderous, his shoulders shaking and his face contorted with rage. “Fine. Have it your way,” he spat. In a jerking motion, he ripped the engagement ring off his finger and threw it at Harry's feet. Then he turned on the spot and was gone.
~*~*~
December, 2019
“Daaad, you promised,” pouted Lily.
Harry sighed. He couldn't really argue with that. He had promised, and there was nothing he wanted more than to teach his daughter how to skate. It would be the first time he'd be skating with all his children – Lily had been too scared till now and only slid around the ice on her boots or on a sledge. It was a new Christmas tradition in the making, something he knew he'd be looking forward to every year from now on. But he hadn't known that Albus had also invited his friend Scorpius and his dad. The thought made him feel wretched and reluctant to go. However, looking at Lily's stuck out lower lip and puppy-dog eyes was all he needed to buckle up and force a cheerful smile on his face.
“All right, sweetie. Gather your things and your brothers. Let's go do some ice skating!”
With everything packed and ready, the four of them made their way through the snow towards the ice covered lake a short distance behind their house. Wielding his wand in front of him, Harry cleared a path for them to walk – the snow had piled up high and reached all the way to his knees. Lily giggled excitedly as they walked through the snowy corridor. When he turned his head around, Harry saw that she was creating a wavy pattern on the snow covered sides with her fingertips, a delighted smile playing on her lips. Harry's chest was filled with warmth as he watched her. Even though she was eleven now and had started Hogwarts with her brothers, he was happy to see that she could still display this childlike wonder at the world. He hoped it would last.
They arrived at the lake almost without incident – if one disregarded James' one attempt at pushing Albus into the huge piles of snow. It resulted in both of them being buried when Albus managed to catch hold of James and pull him down with him. Harry'd had to spell the snow off of them before they continued. It wouldn't have done to have them both wet and cold to the bone before they even got onto the ice; some of it had gotten all the way into their pants.
With excited squeals, the children ran towards the edge of the ice where a tall boy with blond hair was already waiting, but Harry halted, his wand clutched firmly in a hard grip. A man stood in the middle of the frozen lake, waving his wand and clearing away the mounds of snow. Harry recognised him right away, of course. There was no way he wouldn't. He'd know that hair anywhere – it was just as white blonde as that of the boy chatting animatedly with his own sons. His stomach started churning and he swallowed a few times to push down the bile that had begun to rise in his throat.
It had been nineteen years since the last time Harry had seen Draco Malfoy. He'd avoided him like the plague, and he suspected Malfoy had done the same. The way they had ended things had left Harry with too much bitterness to ever want to see or speak to the man again. It had been their first family Christmas dinner as an engaged couple – their first and last, as it turned out. Harry tried not to dwell on it, but he couldn't help the wretched memory from popping into his thoughts every now and then. Even now, all these years later, a trickle of anger started to pool in the pit of his stomach whenever the memory decided to pay him an unbidden visit.
After the disastrous event, which had ultimately caused their break up, Harry had sought comfort in Ginny. She was familiar, and warm and comfortable where Malfoy had been cold and hard. Marrying her had put him at ease. The result had been three wonderful, happy children, and he'd never had a single regret.
He was positive she would stay his best friend for the rest of their lives.
Hastily pushing the unwelcome thoughts away, Harry cleared his throat and moved to join the children. They were busy putting on their skates on a bench that Malfoy must have conjured, as Harry didn't recognise it. As he got closer, he noticed that Lily was struggling a bit.
“Here, let me help you.” He squatted by her side and quickly tied her skates. “It's a bit hard to put them on when you're not used to balancing on them, but you'll get there before you know it,” he said reassuringly.
They exchanged the playful smile that was reserved just for the two of them, and he squeezed her hand before putting on his own skates. By the time he gently led her onto the ice, the boys were already out there, zooming back and forth.
Harry had purposefully avoided looking in Malfoy's direction again. He knew that if their eyes met they'd have to greet each other, maybe even exchange a few words, and he was postponing that for as long as possible. The thought of it made his stomach contract and he pressed his lips together.
“Are you okay, Dad?” asked Lily carefully.
Her hands felt small and delicate in his, and her eyes had a hint of concern in them. Scolding himself for making his eleven-year-old daughter worry about him, Harry hurried to relax his face.
“Of course! It's nothing. Don't worry.” He smiled warmly at her.
Lily frowned and halted. She wobbled a little bit, but managed to steady herself and looked him square in the face. “Is it about Mum?” she asked bluntly.
The question took him by surprise. “What, no.” He shook his head. “Your mum and I are good, I promise. I just thought about something unpleasant.”
Lily didn't seem completely convinced, but she didn't ask any more about it. “Can we try to go faster?” she asked instead. Harry was glad for the distraction.
The sounds of laughter and skates slamming against the ice made Harry turn his head. Malfoy was racing the boys. He had excellent technique, Harry noticed. He was certainly giving them a run for their money.
“Alright, are you ready?” he asked, his attention turned back to Lily. He began skating backwards, going faster as she had requested. Lily gripped his hands tightly, but she laughed, her face open and glowing. Grinning back, Harry sped up even faster. “Try to move your feet together with mine,” he encouraged.
Harry thoroughly enjoyed himself. Skating with Lily was delightful. He had almost forgotten how much fun it was to teach his children new things. She stumbled a little, but got the hang of it quickly enough. She'd be racing with her brothers soon.
“Show me that spin again,” begged Lily after a while, when they had slowed down.
“Okay, but I'm warning you, it's quite difficult.” It wasn't really, but he wanted to both tease and impress her. Her eyes were shining in anticipation.
A strange sensation at the back of his head made Harry pause. He couldn't shake the feeling that Malfoy was staring at him from across the lake. It felt as though those grey eyes were burning holes in his neck. He shook his head, determined not to let it affect him.
The spin he intended to show was a pretty standard, simple twirl with both skates touching the ice the entire time. Harry was by no means a figure skater – he much preferred to race around the lake – but a bit of a spin now and then was always fun. Besides, if the speed was high enough, it gave him a swoop of butterflies in his stomach, like a barrel roll on the broom. He moved a few feet away from Lily in order to gather enough speed. Then he pushed off.
The spin started off like normal, but suddenly the edge of his left skate caught on something. His body jerked and he was flung forward. He heard Lily cry out and he prepared for the impact with his heart in his mouth.
Instead, he felt a strong arm wrap around his torso and a hand enclose his wrist in a firm grip. Then he was pulled backwards, hard. Harry felt a broad chest flush against his back; the sudden warmth and pressure around his body made his breath hitch. Malfoy, shot through his head. However, his rescuer pulled too hard and too quickly; the momentum shifted, and Harry was once again unable to keep his balance, his skates slipping rapidly back and forth. With his full weight placed heavily upon Malfoy behind him, Harry could feel the other man's heart hammering against his back. Desperate to regain his balance, Harry instinctively began flailing his arms. But with one wrist still grasped tightly in Malfoy's hand, all Harry managed to do was lead them around in a semicircle. Malfoy's breath came in hot, short bursts against Harry's neck, making the fine hairs there stand on end. A sudden panic gripped Harry's heart, and he shook his arm violently in an effort to free himself. He felt his elbow make contact, and as he heard a breathy 'oof' in his ear, he was free. But that wasn't enough to stop them; they were both off balance, and in the blink of an eye their skates crashed against each other. Harry gasped and clutched at the arm that was still wrapped around his torso. As Malfoy fell to the ground, he pulled Harry with him, and they landed in a pile of tangled limbs on the cold, hard ice.
Their breaths came in heavy pants, filling the air around them with puffs of small, white clouds. The cold from the ice was a stark contrast to the warmth radiating off of Malfoy. Mingled with the heat came the faint smell of something familiar – something that took Harry back to lazy days spent cuddled up together on the sofa in front of a blazing fire. The memory took him so much by surprise he froze up.
“Potter, you klutz,” hissed Malfoy, pulling Harry out of his daze. He didn't sound angry, however, merely out of breath. Harry figured he'd hit him in the ribs. He scurried about trying to get off the other man, but it was quite difficult with his skates on. His feet kept sliding away from under him. In an effort to push himself off, to remove himself from the assaulting smell and Malfoy's proximity, he placed his hand down firmly to shove off, only for Malfoy to cry out. Harry quickly retracted his hand from Malfoy's crotch.
“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. He'd managed to turn around so they were face to face; Malfoy's blush was as deep as Harry felt his own to be.
The clacking sound of four pairs of skates came closer across the ice. James and Scorpius were zooming at high speed towards them, with Albus guiding Lily by the hand a short way behind. It was a lovely sight, the way he took care of his younger sister.
“Oh my god, Dad, that was hilarious!” James was howling with laughter and Scorpius' face was stretched into one big grin, his eyes dancing with mirth.
“It looked like you were trying to figure skate, it was so comical!” James continued, still laughing.
Harry couldn't help chuckle at that. It must have looked pretty strange from an outside point of view. Malfoy let out a strangled sort of sound.
“I can't believe the first time our dads meet they go dancing on the ice,” Scorpius shot in.
Harry felt a pang in his chest. He'd never told his children about his history with Malfoy. Clearly, neither had Malfoy. He stole a quick look at the blonde, but his head was bent forward, his face hidden by his fringe.
“We actually went to Hogwarts together,” Harry mumbled as he let James pull him back up onto his feet, although he wasn't sure anyone heard him. Next to him, Scorpius helped his own dad to his feet.
Lily threw her arms around Harry, a relieved look on her face. “You have to be careful, Dad!”
“Yeah, with your track record, the Healers at St. Mungos are going to have a bed reserved just for you at all times,” snickered James.
Someone who sounded suspiciously like Malfoy snorted next to Harry.
“Let's go sit down, you old farts. We have hot cocoa,” Albus shot in with a grin.
With the children in the lead, they all made their way back across the ice towards the bench where they had left their stuff. The children, still laughing and joking about the second-rate figure skating their fathers had displayed (“They would so not win any awards for that!”), hurried along, while Harry and Malfoy took their time. Harry felt sore all over and grudgingly thought how close to the truth his son had been about his comment regarding St. Mungos. He was no spring chicken anymore.
The two men glided slowly along in silence. It struck Harry then that he didn't feel nearly as angry with Malfoy as he had thought he was. It was strange: he had spent these past nineteen years feeling his chest fill with rage, or something very close to it, whenever he had thought about or heard mention of Draco Malfoy. But meeting him now, being so close to him, he felt nothing of the sort. It was awkward, to be sure, but it was a relief to realise the anger was missing.
Harry felt he ought to say something; the silence was beginning to feel too heavy to bear, especially after their recent bout on the ice. Taking a deep breath, he said the first thing that came to mind.
“I was sorry to hear your wife died.”
Malfoy cocked an eyebrow. “I'm sorry to hear you and your wife got divorced?”
Harry laughed, and he felt the tension that had built up slowly ebb away. “Yeah, I guess girls really weren't for me after all.”
“You don't say,” drawled Malfoy.
Harry caught his eye for a second. There was warmth there, and something flittered through Harry's stomach. He hurriedly looked away, not wanting to examine the flutter any closer.
They reached the bench where the children had already removed their skates and put their boots back on. James was rummaging in Harry's backpack, pulling out item after item. There were cups, thermoses, different boxes of pastries and sandwiches. They'd brought enough for everyone, even Scorpius and Malfoy, on Albus's insistence. Harry had pointed out he could just use a duplication spell if they were close to running out, but Albus firmly held that that wasn't the point.
“I see you come prepared,” said Malfoy. He sounded vaguely impressed, although that might just be what Harry read into it.
“It's not the first time we've gone out skating,” he said with a shrug.
“Well, thank you for inviting us.”
Harry caught the ghost of a smile pulling on Malfoy's lips before he ducked his head and busied himself with his skates.
“Any time.”
The next half hour was filled with laughter and enjoyment. The children were telling jokes and devouring the food and pastries. Harry had forgotten how handsome Malfoy could be when he allowed himself to be this open, when he laughed or smiled with his entire face. He wondered what else he had missed out on all these years.
“Here you go.” Malfoy handed him a cup of steaming hot cocoa, his face displaying a friendly, relaxed smile. Another hint of the aftershave Harry remembered him using wafted through the air as he turned towards him.
Harry accepted the cup with a smile of his own, their fingers brushing lightly against each other. “Thanks.”
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment until the children had had enough and made their way back onto the ice (“Let's teach Lily how to skate backwards!”).
“It's been a while, hasn't it?” said Malfoy after a while. His eyes seemed to be latched onto something far away across the lake.
“It sure has.” Harry took another sip of his still warm drink. Hot cocoa somehow felt like liquid courage.
“You know, we were too young back then,” said Malfoy quietly. “I was still too concerned with my parents' opinions, of having their approval.” He shot Harry a quick glance. “Perhaps it's time we talked about what happened between us. We never did.”
Harry looked at him, really looked. This older, mature Malfoy was certainly not the same as the young man who had broken up with Harry. He looked calm and had an air of confidence, without the arrogance Harry associated with him. In his gut, Harry knew that if ever there was a time to mend bridges and get close to Malfoy again, this was it.
With new resolve, he smiled at Malfoy through the steam rising up from his cup. As their eyes met, a small tinge appeared on Malfoy's pale cheeks.
“Yeah. I'd like that.”
Fin