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Sea Glass

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Now

Draco cautiously pulled Lucas's bedroom door closed. Summer days at the beach meant lots of sun and exercise, and, because Draco was easily manipulated by a charmingly persuasive four-year old, candy floss and ice cream. And all that meant a worn-out little boy and sun-burned father heading home at the end of the day. Lucas had been cantankerous during supper and had melted into a unconsolable fit of tears when they couldn't find his favorite stuffed toy.

Wearily, Draco went down the hallway to the kitchen, the supper leftovers still needed putting away and there was washing up to be done. He wasn't even going to consider the playroom where Lucas had dumped everything on the floor while trying to find the cursed stuffed lamb.

A few wand flicks sent the dishes into the sink and Draco got them soaking in hot sudsy water before turning to put a cooling charm on the leftover soup and sticking the covered pot into the cupboard. Rolling up his sleeves he walked towards the sink and scrubbed and rinsed Lucas's monkey plate and bowl clean.

Frowning as the water stung his skin he realized that it was already turning pink. Malfoy complexions were not meant for summer days at the seaside. Draco turned to look at the window by the kitchen table where the mosaic of green, white and blue sea glass was almost finished. The darkness outside prevented Draco from seeing the colors but he knew each piece by heart. He could still remember Harry's smile as he held up a piece he especially liked with a sandy hand for Draco to admire.

"He's a wonderful little boy, Harry." Draco said softly. "So much like you."

 

Then

"I want to stop in and show Ginny what we bought for the baby and then we can have lunch," Harry said as he started up the steps to Gringotts without waiting for Draco.

"You want to show off your baby bump and compare it to hers," Draco grumbled, reluctantly following Harry up the steps. They'd been shopping all morning and he was weighted down with carrier bags full of baby clothes, blankets, and toys. Harry certainly couldn't carry any of them since he was pregnant. Draco had had the realization as they'd left the fourth shop that the nesting compulsion that they'd learned about in birthing class might be a real thing. Harry had a few more weeks until he was full-term but he was definitely nesting, if the state of their house and Gringotts account was anything to judge by.

Harry looked back at Draco, grinning, his face silhouetted against the rare perfectly blue sky of a London summer. Draco was about to caution him to watch where he was going when Harry's gaze went past Draco and the smile slid from his face. Draco was just beginning to turn to see what was wrong when a silver flash of light buzzed past his ear. There was an agonizing cry of pain and Draco whipped around to see Harry collapsing. Bags flew as he grabbed for Harry, catching him just before his head hit the sharp edge of the stone steps.

"Harry, what…"

"The baby, the baby," Harry gasped, his hands on his pregnant belly, it was all he said before his eyes fluttered closed and his hands fell by his side.

Draco desperately searched him for injuries but there was nothing wrong other than a trail of blood dripping from Harry's nose and ears. Behind them there was noise and chaos, people running. Draco's only concern was Harry. He stood, staggering under the weight of Harry in his arms and Disapparated.

They landed in the waiting room of St. Mungo's and everyone stopped and stared at Draco. At Harry already unconscious in his arms. "HELP HIM," Draco shouted as his legs gave way and he fell to his knees, cradling Harry to his body. There was a flurry of motion as Healers in green robes swooped in. A stretcher appeared out of nowhere.

"He was cursed, I don't know what it was. There was a silver light, and a noise, a whistling sound," Draco said, clutching Harry's hand as the stretcher was pushed down the hall.

The door to the treatment ward had banged loudly as they went through it. Draco tried to follow but arms held him back. He shook off the restraint in protest. "I have to be with them, he's my husband, my baby."

"The Healers need to work to find out what's wrong," a kindly looking nurse said. "Let them do their job. Is there anyone I can floo-call for you?"

There was no need to notify anyone. Word had raced through Diagon Alley and the Ministry that the Boy Who Lived had been struck down by a curse. Draco sat in the chair nearest the door where they'd taken Harry. He could hear the whispered hush as people gathered behind him. Granger had come and sit by him, talking, saying something he couldn't understand. All he could do is stare at the heather gray of his robes, the fabric was marred with droplets of blood.

 

Now

It was dawn when Draco's bedroom door creaked open and there was a tip toeing sound of pyjama covered feet crossing the hardwood floor. Draco lay still, his head still hidden under the pillow as Lucas climbed onto the bed. If Draco was very lucky Lucas might fall asleep again and they'd both get another hour of sleep.

Lucas was whispering to Lamby, his stuffed toy lamb, that they had to be quiet or they'd wake up Papa. Soon there was the reassuring weight of Lucas cuddling under the covers next to him. Draco pressed a kiss to the chaos that was his son's blond hair that refused to lay flat and fell back asleep.

"Papa...Papa...It's Pancake Sunday, Papa," Lucas whispered in his ear.

Draco groaned and peeled his eyes open. Lucas bright face was just inches away from his. "Good morning, munchkin."

"I told Lamby that if we were quiet you'd make us pancakes," Lucas said in a rush of words as he held up Lamby for Draco to kiss good morning.

Pancake Sunday was a ritual that they had every Sunday. One that Harry had started with Draco when they'd first started dating. The first time Draco had made pancakes for Lucas on his first birthday he'd had to hide his tears. Now it was a comfort, Lucas standing on a step stool by his side at the work surface, carefully measuring out the flour

After the pancakes were made and eaten and the dishes put away Lucas ran to get his bucket of sea glass.

"Now, Papa?"

"Sure," Draco ran a hand through Lucas's tangled curls. "Let's get them washed first and then you can arrange them the way you want them on the window."

Lucas filled his bucket with warm water and carefully rinsed each piece of glass and placed them on a towel that Draco had set out on a tray. Once the glass was clean of sand and salt Draco carried the tray over to the window for Lucas.

There was just one last section of the window to be filled. Lucas stared up at the empty space and then with his tongue sticking out between his lips in concentration he started moving all the pieces around on the tray. Trying one piece of green glass in a spot before switching it for a blue and then a clear. At last he sat back with a happy nod.

"Like this."

"Are you sure?" Draco asked as he eyed the pattern critically, he could see it was perfect. Lucas might be young but he had artistic talent that he must've inherited from Harry, it certainly didn't come from the Malfoy side of the family.

Lucas nodded his head and tapped on Draco's wand hand. "Make it happen, Papa."

Draco drew his wand and carefully cast the spell to make all the pieces lift at once. He rotated them so that they faced the window and then moved his wand forward so that the pieces pressed against the window, sliding them into place. The pieces fit into the last empty space perfectly.

"Ready?"

"Do it!" Lucas clambered to stand up on his chair and clapped his hands in excitement as Draco cast the sticking charm and the sea glass adhered to the window. The sun shone through the pieces of glass, filling the kitchen with color.

"Tell me a Daddy story." Lucas commanded as he leaned back against Draco. Draco slid his arms around Lucas's waist as they both looked up at the sea glass.

"Which one would you like to hear?" Draco asked.

Lucas slid his hands over Draco's arms. "Tell me about when you and Daddy met."

Draco swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. Lucas was too young to understand how complicated the relationship had been between his two parents. Draco's mother and Molly Weasley had both assured him that it wasn't lying to not tell Lucas everything at once but Draco couldn't help but fear what would happen when Lucas learned the rest of the story.

"We met at Madam Malkin's on Diagon Alley, Daddy was getting his very first set of robes because he was raised by a Muggle family. And I was there getting my school robes."

"And you fell in love," Lucas said.

"No, we were just school boys, only eleven years old. Once we went to Hogwarts we were sorted into different houses. It was much later, after we left school that we realised that we loved each other."

"Because you both wanted the same broom at the Quidditch shop. And because it was the only one left and Daddy said that whoever caught the Snitch first could have the broom." Lucas said with a happy smile on his face. He knew the story by heart. All he knew of his Daddy was from the stories that Draco and the Weasleys told him and the photographs of Harry that Draco had up all around their home.

"Yes, and your Daddy caught the Snitch, because he always did. And he took me out for dinner as a consolation prize."

"And then you fell in love and you got married and then I grew in Daddy's tummy."

"Yes," Draco agreed as he tried to blink away the tears.

"And then the bad man cast the spell and Daddy died but he loved me so much that I didn't."

"Yes, that's right. Your Daddy loved you. He did everything he could to make sure you were safe." There was no holding back the tears now but Draco kissed Lucas's head and hoped that Lucas wouldn't look up and see him crying.

 

Then

"Mr. Malfoy."

The sounds in the waiting room faded as Draco stood on shaky legs. "Yes, is he okay? Is Harry okay?"

"Will you come with me please?" The Healer's face was too somber and Draco took a step back in fear, not ready to hear what they were going to tell him.

Draco felt a hand gripping his. "We'll go in together, shall we?" Molly Weasley said gently.

Draco didn't want to do it, he knew that if he followed the Healer that everything would end. Molly had his arm though and they walked down the corridor. There were people in the corridor. They just stood aside as the two of them followed the Healer to a small office. Draco could feel Molly's body trembling and somehow it gave him comfort, knowing that someone else that loved Harry was with him.

They were led into a room, just the two of them. There was no stretcher, no Harry.

The Healer took a deep breath. "The curse that Mr Potter received was a bleeding curse. His veins were...well, despite our best efforts there was no hope. Even if the curse had been cast right here, there'd wouldn't have been time to save him."

Draco felt his knees sagging. "They're gone?"

"Mr. Potter has passed away," the Healer said, his double chin nodding. "But the baby is in grave condition-"

"What?" Molly interrupted him looking around. "The baby lived?"

"The baby is alive, for the moment. Mr. Potter must've cast a shielding spell to the fetus as he was hit. The baby was protected but is extremely fragile. He is premature and they are still working on him."

Him. He had a son. Draco felt his knees giving way and only the steel grip of Molly Weasley's arm around his waist kept him standing. "Take us to the baby," she demanded.

 

Now

"And Uncle Ron and the other Aurors caught the bad man," Lucas said with satisfaction. He'd heard the story before. As much as it hurt Draco to tell it, he didn't want Lucas to not know how much Harry had loved him.

"Yes. The bad man is locked up and will never hurt another daddy or mommy again," Draco said, composing his face to a calm appearance. The man who had killed Harry was a little known Death Eater who had been released from Azkaban days earlier.

"Can we invite Tristan over to see our window?"

Tristan Longbottom, Ginny and Neville's son had been born seven weeks after Lucas. They were best friends, a bond secured in the long months after Harry's death when Draco could hardly care for himself let alone a newborn. It was the Weasleys that had stepped forward and helped him through that horrible year.

"Yes, of course. Why don't you write him an owl?"

Lucas nodded happily and ran of to the other room to his little desk. At four, Lucas had barely mastered his letters, and his spelling was more inventive than accurate, but he loved to scribble with his quill and send owls. Draco would floo call Ginny later to clarify the invitation.

He turned back to the window and the sea glass. He pressed his hand against the glass, his fingers trembled as they covered some of the glass that had been found by Harry on their trips, and the rest found by Lucas.

"I miss you so much, Harry. I didn't think I could make it without you but Lucas...he's so amazing. This gift you gave, our son." Draco whispered. Slowly he was healing, the hurt of losing Harry would never go away, but having Lucas had gotten Draco through the darkest nights and finally the sun was shining again.