Chapter Text
The driveway up to Harry’s home is a long and winding cobblestone road leading through a copse of beautiful trees with branches that form a tall archway above the path. He walks with Hedwig perched on his shoulder and his Firebolt clutched in his hand, enjoying the warm summer air. Harry’s just finished flying with his owl above the expanse of empty farmland surrounding the house, ready to return and begin making dinner with Dobby and Winky.
The 2 house elves had been overjoyed when he asked if they would like to come and live with him and his godfathers at the end of the school year. The pair still insist on doing house work and Sirius is so delighted to have them instead of Kreacher, that he pays them handsomely for their work. Winky refuses to accept the money, so Remus instead puts her wages towards obtaining things she likes and presenting them to her as gifts. She still grumbles about it, but cannot deny that she loves every single thing she is given.
The first thing to greet Harry when he arrives is the noise— joyous laughter booming from the living room window of the modest, charming cottage. His home is always welcoming now and he can’t stop the grin taking over his face. He lets Hedwig fly up to her little roost on the roof and enters through the front door, placing his broom up on the wall-mounted holster where it hangs next to Sirius’s and Remus’s.
His godfathers are playing a fast-paced card game that Sirius seems to be dominating at judging by the grumbling curses flying out of Remus’s mouth and Sirius’s uncontrollable cackling. In the portrait hung up next to them, James eggs them both on and Lily scans the scene critically, trying to decide if Sirius is cheating or if his luck is really just that good. Harry’s heart clenches.
Last week was Harry’s 16th birthday and it was the best birthday he’s ever had. Draco had declared the entire week to be Harry’s birthday and took him on different adventures every day, setting up portkeys to France, Italy, and Taiwan to go on food tours and meet a different famous magical chef in each country.
“It’s all about who you know, Harry. Networking is much more than us rich important people using contacts for our benefit; hh—it—it’s about building your space in the community.”
“I just don’t want to get any preferential treatment because of who I am,” Harry worried.
“Darling,” Draco had sighed. “They don’t care that you’re Harry Potter. They care because you’re Harry. Just Harry. And it is impossible not to love you.” And Harry had kissed him within an inch of his life.
The day before his birthday, Draco took him and his godfathers to the Modern Wizarding Museum to go through the Potter exhibit with the curator, who even showed them all into the back room to look at items that weren’t currently on display. It was emotional and healing to learn so much about his parents, the things they did, and the things they had. Many of the items had prompted personal stories from Sirius and Remus that brought James and Lily closer to him than ever. The curator saw him keep coming back to his father’s sketchbook. Harry never knew his dad drew, but he had a clear artistic style in his little doodles and cartoons. A few pages were entirely taken up by gorgeous lifelike portraits of friends and family and even one of a furious looking Severus Snape that Sirius remembered fondly with hearty guffaws.
The real kicker was when the curator said she had something for him to take home with him if he wanted it. She pulled out the large canvas painting of James and Lily, painted and charmed by James himself. The figures came alive and surveyed the room and Harry stood there stunned as his parents immediately recognized Sirius and Remus.
“Wow, you guys look terrible!” James teased.
“It’s only been about 15 years now,” Sirius responded, gobsmacked and choked up. “Go easy on us; we’re old.”
“Older maybe,” Remus said. “We’re still in our 30s, Sirius.”
“15 years?” Lily asked. “So then…” she trailed off and looked between them all, green eyes meeting Harry’s matching ones. She froze and began trembling. “Harry? Is it really you?” Harry had burst into tears.
The curator told them that the museum had to hide the portrait away because James and Lily kept asking museum guests where Harry was and if he was okay. They wouldn’t stop and it was making everyone so depressed that the director eventually requested the portrait be removed.
When Harry unwrapped the portrait upon returning home, he found that the curator had included his father’s sketchbook for him as well. He hung the portrait in the living room where James and Lily could see everyone the most.
His actual birthday had involved Sirius and Remus taking Harry and all his friends to a muggle arcade complex. Pansy and the twins had immediately taken to figuring out the best ways to cheat to get the maximum amount of tickets, while the rest of them went around to try every game they could get their hands on. Air hockey, Dance Dance Revolution, and Street Fighter 2 were the favorites until Sirius and Remus took everyone to the go karts. It was all fun and games until Hermione figured out that Sirius was using a speed charm to be the fastest and then it all devolved into chaos, adults and children alike using subtle magic to keep things interesting.
After surviving the go karts, hoarse from laughter and hair windblown into manic shapes, they went inside for soda, pizza, and the best deep-fried snacks muggle arcades had to offer. When the cake came out, everyone sang happy birthday to Harry the same way Dumbledore encouraged everyone to sing the Hogwarts song, to each person’s favorite tune. It sounded awful and Harry loved it. The cake was lemon and raspberry.
It was everything Harry had ever dreamed of doing for his birthday and he still couldn’t believe he was allowed to have such a thing.
It’s been a week since his 16th birthday and with a return to school on the horizon, Harry is trying to get as much out of his summer as possible, flying every day, talking endlessly to his parents in their portrait, cooking new recipes with Dobby and Winky, and practicing drawing for the first time— he’s not very good yet, but Harry doesn’t think that matters when he enjoys it anyway. His dad’s sketchbook has served as an inspiration to try new things and Harry’s excited to see where that takes him.
One of the greatest things about Harry’s home is the fireplace. It’s where all his friends and Draco emerge from almost every day.
The restoration of Malfoy Manor is complete, but Draco is quickly growing to love the modest home Harry lives in and spends most nights with him. Harry is still pleasantly surprised that Sirius and Remus agreed to allow Draco to spend nights with Harry as often as he wants.
“As long as you’re both being safe and respecting each other, there’s not really anything we can reasonably object to,” Sirius had said. “You’ve already been sleeping in each other’s dorm rooms and besides that you’ll legally be an adult in a year’s time. It makes no sense to keep you from doing what you want.”
James and Lily adore Draco, or at least their portraits do. James was initially quite confused upon realizing his son was dating the Malfoy heir, but has quickly become very fond of him, softened by the way Harry talks about him and Draco’s obvious devotion to him. Lily is simply overjoyed to see that Harry has found love with Draco in much the same way she did with James— both of them school bullies who couldn’t control their feelings, but finally grew up and learned to show affection.
Just as Harry pulls his baked mac and cheese from the oven and sets it down on a hot pad, long thin arms wind around his waist from behind and a familiar tall body presses against his back.
“Mmm, my favorite,” Draco says with an appreciative inhale.
“Me or the mac and cheese?”
“Yes,” Draco says against his neck. Harry chuckles and turns around in his arms to plant a firm kiss on his lips. “What’s the occasion? Or did you just feel like making the greatest cheesy casserole ever to grace the earth?”
“A bit of both,” Harry says. “Tomorrow morning we get our school supplies in Diagon and I have promised you control over my new wardrobe.”
“Oh fuck, that’s right!” Draco exclaims, eyes sparkling. “I’m actually getting you clothes that fit you. You’re going to look amazing! I had forgotten about shopping in the face of my good news!”
“Your good news?” Harry prompts. “Don’t keep me in suspense.”
“Well— hh— Unspeakable Walker has agreed to mentor me and Hermione for the Unspeakable career track and if we continue to do as well in school as he expects from us, then he’ll write us both letters of recommendation when we’re ready to apply to the Department of Mysteries.”
“Congratulations!” Harry gushes, pulling him down and peppering kisses all over his face. “You’re both going to be amazing!”
“I know!” he agrees, grin stretching across his face in a dazzling show of white teeth. “Have you thought any more about what NEWTs you want to take?”
“I think I’ll just go for the standard subjects. As for my career path, well, I still don’t really know,” he says self-consciously.
“I think that’s wonderful,” Draco assures him.
“It’s wonderful that I don’t know for sure what I want to do?” Harry asks with a confused laugh.
“It’s wonderful that you have options and that you’re not pressuring yourself into deciding prematurely,” he clarifies. “You have the rest of your life to figure it out—to fail and succeed at things and to discover new passions, and I’m going to make sure it’s a long, happy life.”
“It’s so strange not having expectations on me anymore,” Harry smiles. “It’s going to take a lot of getting used to.”
“Since Voldemort was destroyed, there’s nothing you need to worry about anymore,” he grins. “You’re free.” Draco’s not afraid to use the name these days, refusing to allow some dead, sinister bastard to hold that much fear over him.
Fred and George are still working closely with Tonks and Unspeakable Walker to improve security at the ministry, staying on after helping to destroy Voldemort once and for all.
The team has since located and destroyed all the horcruxes. The last one was the goblet of Helga Hufflepuff, which had been kept in Bellatrix’s vault at Gringotts. It only took so long to get to because the goblins were dragging their feet about transferring ownership of the Lestrange Vault to Draco. Harry’s sure Draco never wants to see that much paperwork ever again.
Once the horcruxes were all destroyed, then it was Voldemort’s turn. By working with an expert on ward magic, the twins were able to come up with something they’ve taken to calling an inverse ward. This magic was able to keep Voldemort contained once Unspeakable Walker tracked him down with the aurors. Just last week the dementor’s kiss was given to Voldemort. It was the final piece of his soul. He’s officially dead with no chance of coming back.
Unspeakable Walker lost his left leg just over the knee when capturing Voldemort, but is quickly taking to his new prosthetic. The department wanted him to take time off to recover, but he refuses to take more leave than he’s required to, unable to peel himself away from his research. According to George, he’s been rolling around the Department of Mysteries in his wheelchair when his leg starts to hurt and takes frequent naps in the middle of experiments, but other than that, he’s recovering well. He has also since been rewarded with many pizza dates. Their teamwork has inspired Fred and George to introduce a new line of Weasley products all around personal security and dark arts detection.
“Yeah,” Harry says, “I am free, aren’t I? We all are.”
“Mmhmm,” Draco hums, “and I’ll remind you as many times as I need to. You can do whatever you want now.” Harry grins and kisses Draco again, humming happily against his lips.
The mac and cheese is a big hit, even with Narcissa, who is generally confused by Harry’s love for cooking, thinking it to be a house elf chore, but never says a word about it. She’s started to see the value after many delicious meals over at the cottage.
“My compliments to the chef,” Draco exclaims after finishing a second helping, “and the chef’s advisors, of course.” He nods to Dobby and Winky who give a little bow and curtsey respectively, pleased as punch with the reception. “You both are going to have Harry trained better than any chef in Britain by the time we graduate.”
“Mr. Harry Potter is being a naturally talented cook,” Winky admits. Dobby nods his agreement, gazing up at Harry with soppy doe eyes.
“So where is Severus?” Remus asks, polishing off the last of his dinner. “I thought he might actually come to dinner this time.”
“He went over to Professor Burbage’s house to watch some muggle sports game on the television. Apparently tonight is some playoff tournament thing or whatever,” Draco informs him. “I’d like to learn about muggle sports, but I don’t know if I’d really care to play any if there’s no flying. Being up in the air is my favorite part of Quidditch.”
“Oh, well that actually sounds fun,” Sirius muses. “I didn’t know Snivellus was capable of that.”
“Sirius,” Remus chides.
“I know, I know, I’m meant to be putting old feuds behind me and everything. It’s hard not to poke at him though. I’m trying. I know he’s important to Draco.”
“It’s fine if you aren’t nice to him,” Draco says. “But just be aware that the more you insult him, the more I’ll tell him it’s because you secretly have a crush on him.” Sirius sputters and nearly upends his entire glass of water over the table.
“What on Earth?” he asks. “Why would you tell him something like that?”
“For entertainment, obviously, cousin. Why else? Or are you saying you’re the only one allowed to have fun at someone’s expense?” Draco challenges.
“That’s completely different,” Sirius growls at him moodily, though he doesn’t sound convincing.
“You can have your fun—” and I’ll have mine goes unsaid, “ —or you can have a tense, but fair working relationship with him. You’ll be seeing quite a lot of each other at Hogwarts, so it’s up to you.”
“Alright, alright. I’ll keep my mouth shut.” Draco smiles at that. Harry snickers and Remus rolls his eyes, obviously above the childishness.
“If the unspeakable thing doesn’t work out, you’d make an excellent negotiator,” Harry suggests playfully.
“I’d rather be a stylist,” he counters. “I just can’t wait to take you shopping tomorrow. We’ll go to all the best spots, Twillfit and Tattings, Gladrags, get you some proper dress robes from Madame Malkins and I’ll have Hermione and Pansy join us when we get some muggle clothes too. I’ll need Pansy’s input and I trust Hermione to know where to take us. If you knew where to go to shop, you wouldn’t be in this dire situation.”
“That’s hurtful, but fair. I do still have mostly hand-me-downs from Dudley,” Harry allows. “You and Pansy will have to get some muggle clothes too.”
“The only thing more exciting than shopping for you is shopping for myself,” he proclaims with a grin.
“Will you be staying the night here again, Draco,” Narcissa asks. He nods his head.
“Yeah, we’ll go to Diagon from here tomorrow morning. You’re welcome to join us to get our school supplies, but you don’t have to,” he offers.
“I wouldn’t want to intrude. Besides, I’m sure you’ll both be suitably embarrassing to watch in public,” she says. Draco blushes. “And anyway, I have an appointment with an art dealer in Paris tomorrow. I’m going to get my hands on an authentic Monet.” Narcissa’s newfound passion for collecting art and antiques had been jumpstarted after restoring the manor.
Draco had made the decision to award his mother the title of Lordship over their home instead of himself. It was a title he inherited as Lucius’s son and heir, but he thought it was horribly unfair to his mother and legally transferred all the power to her. It benefitted him as well since he had no desire to take up his duties as Lord at 16. Narcissa had wept, apparently so touched at the gesture that she didn’t have words.
Narcissa had secretly never felt like she could call Malfoy Manor her home. It was just the place she lived. Now that Lucius is gone and with him all the oppressive decision-making, she can finally choose paint colors and wallpaper and art and furniture that she likes. Draco has loved seeing his mother blossom and figure out who she is by herself.
“That sounds lovely,” Draco encourages. “Well, I hope you have a nice time. If you’re in Paris, you can even stop by that patisserie you like. Make a day out of it.”
“What an excellent suggestion. I think I will,” she smiles. Then her face becomes more serious. “Now, about you staying the night so often, you remember our talk, don’t you?”
“Hh—Merlin and M—Morgana, yes mother, I remember our talk,” Draco grumbles out, horrifically embarrassed and unable to meet anyone’s eyes.
“Don’t worry, Cissy,” Sirius says goodnaturedly. “They’ll behave themselves or else they’ll be subjected to a safe sex talk where they will be forced to speak aloud every part of a man’s anatomy while looking each other in the eyes.”
“Oh my God, Sirius. I think I’d die,” Harry groans, properly horrified. “It was bad enough when it was just the normal talk.”
“And what’s the main takeaway?” Sirius quizzes.
“Consent is sexy,” Harry answers, blushing furiously. “And we were asking before you said anything, just so you know.”
“We’ve already had sex. It’s not like we can do anything more extreme,” Draco grouses when his mother only continues to eye him suspiciously.
“Draco, don’t embarrass me,” she requests.
“I’m embarrassing you?!” Draco gapes.
“Yes! You’re making such a fuss out of this when I just don’t want you both to end up with a baby before you’re ready.”
“We’re both men!”
“It’s Harry Potter, Draco. Stranger things have happened, that’s all I’m saying.” The twinkle of mischief in her eyes only makes everyone more unsettled.
“Thank you for your input, mother,” Draco grits through his teeth, “But unless one of us already has a uterus or is going to be taking copious amounts of potions, that sort of thing as an accident is literally impossible.”
“We know the protection charms and we promise to use them,” Harry cries out, covering his burning face with both hands. “Can we please not talk about this anymore?” Narcissa acquiesces, sitting back and primly taking another long sip of chardonnay, a tiny, satisfied smile playing at her lips.
Later, when Narcissa has left and everyone else has gone to bed, Harry and Draco lie facing each other and talking in hushed voices.
“I wish we could room together at Hogwarts,” Harry sighs, stroking Draco’s ribs gently with his fingertips.
“I’ve had a thought about that, actually.”
“It can’t be the Room of Requirement,” Harry interrupts, “too many people know about that.”
“N—No, not that,” Draco replies. “There are a few abandoned classrooms on the second floor near Myrtle. The old alchemy room, for example, Hh— we could clear it out, ward it, and transfigure some furniture in there, make ourselves a private little suite. I’m planning to take every NEWT level that’s available, so I want to be able to practice a lot in the most practical sense. I wanted to craft my own secret space in the castle anyway, but this would allow us both a place to disappear. I can’t imagine you will have gotten less famous at school this coming year. You’ll be needing a quiet place too.”
“That sounds amazing,” Harry says, leaning in to kiss him. “We’ll have to be careful though.” Draco raises his eyebrows in question. “With all that magic in a space of our own, we might just accidentally get one of us pregnant,” he jokes. Draco snorts into a laugh.
“My mother is ridiculous. I can’t believe she said that.”
“Is that an actual thing?” Harry asks. “Male pregnancy?”
“Don’t even think about it, Harry,” Draco warns. Harry holds up his hands in surrender, though he wasn’t thinking anything untoward about it anyway. “I think she’s just been dying to find a way to embarrass me. It makes her feel more like a mother somehow.”
“If she discovers that she’s some great jokester underneath all the years of repression, I don’t know how we’re going to survive,” Harry snickers.
“We’re not,” Draco chuckles. “It’ll— hh— it’ll make my father turn in his grave to see her being silly just for the hell of it, so I suppose I’ll have to support her… no matter what types of embarrassing jokes she’s telling. What a future we have to look forward to.”
“At least she’ll keep things interesting,” Harry allows and pauses, thinking. “I’ve never really been able to think about a future for myself before this year,” he whispers. “Secretly, I never thought I’d really have a future. Now, I love thinking about it. I know whatever the future holds is going to be amazing because it’s going to be with you.” Draco rolls his eyes exaggeratedly as he blushes. Not only does Harry love saying sappy shit just for Draco’s reactions, but it’s also easier to disguise embarrassing truths that way.
“Ugh, pathetic, Potter. It’s honestly disgusting. You’re so obsessed with me, you should be embarrassed. I’m embarrassed on your behalf,” he complains even though he can’t stop himself from smiling. Harry laughs and snuggles closer, closing his eyes and wrapping his arms around his boyfriend.
“You love it,” Harry accuses.
“That’s slander,” he shoots back. Securely tangled in each other, Draco nuzzles his face into Harry’s hair. “I love you,” he whispers against his temple. Harry’s chest swells and he squeezes Draco tightly.
“I love you too.”