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Fatherhood Suits Draco Malfoy

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Harry didn’t know that Draco Malfoy had a baby. As far as he knew, Malfoy didn’t even have a wife or a girlfriend. So the baby was a bit of a surprise.

The moment Harry had caught a glimpse of white blond hair in Diagon Alley, he had turned his head towards the blond man without even thinking. The sight had made him stop so suddenly that the man behind him had bumped into him. Harry had barely felt a thing. His eyes had locked on to Draco Malfoy and the bundle in his arms. There was a baby stroller next to him and Harry quickly came to a conclusion.

The bundle in Malfoy’s arms was crying at the top of his tiny lungs. The baby’s cheeks were getting red with strain. Malfoy was doing his best to calm his offspring down. Harry was watching transfixed as Malfoy pressed the baby to his chest and kissed the short pale blond hair on top of his head. He started swaying slowly. Harry noticed his lips moving but was too far away to hear what Malfoy was saying.

A minute later the baby’s cries finally came to a stop. Malfoy smiled lovingly at the baby and kissed his tiny nose before lowering him into the stroller. He arranged the blankets and straightened up when he was finished.

He started walking away, pushing the stroller and looking into it every few seconds and beaming at the baby. Harry realized that happiness suited Draco. Fatherhood seemed to suit him as well. Rather well, actually.

It took Harry only a single moment to realize how fucked he was. He had somehow developed a crush on Draco Bloody Malfoy in the span of a couple of minutes. He shut his eyes and swore loudly.

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During the next couple of months Harry saw Malfoy a few times but only from far away and for short periods of time. And during those months, Harry tried his best to come to terms with his tiny crush. Well, he tried to ignore and deny it at first, but that hadn’t worked out very well. So he had to admit that he had it, at the end.

The only positive thing, in Harry’s opinion, was that he’d already had his bisexuality crisis a couple of years ago, so at least that and the realization that he might fancy Draco Malfoy weren’t happening at the same time. That would’ve been a bit too much for poor Harry.

Eventually Harry more or less came to terms with his attraction to Malfoy. Emphasis on the “less”. He had categorized it as a passing fancy. However, the way his head snapped every time his eyes caught sight of pale blond hair, and the way his ears perked up every time Malfoy’s name was mentioned were saying quite a different story.

He couldn’t give in though! His refusal to read up on Malfoy, especially read his Auror file, was a testament to his stubbornness. Harry James Potter was not going to fall for Draco Malfoy. There was no way he’d let his weird little crush that had come out of nowhere blossom into something bigger. Harry needed to crush it while it was still fragile.

But the crush was not subsiding at all and it only frustrated him further. Busying himself with work helped. But he had just closed his last and only active case, so there wasn’t currently any work for him to do. He exhaled and let his forehead hit the sturdy wooden desk with a soft thud. He had started to think about Malfoy again.

Perhaps an early lunch would take his mind off of Malfoy. Yes, Harry nodded to himself and exited the office with more enthusiasm that a lunch deserved and bumped right into a very familiar stroller.

The moment he turned to apologize to whoever was pushing the stroller, he realized his mistake. All his plans about taking his mind off of Malfoy flew right out the window as the man himself stood only a couple of feet away from Harry.

Harry could see that the years had been very gracious to Malfoy. Adulthood had made his pointy face rather attractive. He wore his hair loose and it was longer and paler than Harry had ever seen it before. It contrasted prettily with his dark green robes and black cloak. An elegant eyebrow arched itself and Harry realized he’d been staring.

“In a hurry for some important case, Auror Potter?”

Harry felt his cheeks warm. He was still Junior Auror so he didn’t exactly have important cases. And his trip to the canteen was definitely not an important case.

“Um, no, and sorry about…” he gestured towards the stroller. It was a small miracle that the baby inside hadn’t began crying when Harry bumped into the stroller. “anyway, what are you doing in the Auror Department, Malfoy?”

Malfoy eyed him for a few moments before answering. “I’m here for my monthly meeting and report that’s part of my probation. Auror Smith usually comes by the Manor every month for this purpose but she informed me she’s on a holiday so I had to come here personally and meet and report to whoever is free.”

Harry knew he shouldn’t offer. He definitely shouldn’t be in close proximity to Malfoy, especially for an extended period of time. But as his inner voice was screaming at him to shut the fuck up and go away from Malfoy, his mouth was already offering Malfoy to take his report.

“Weren’t you going somewhere, Potter?” Malfoy asked, titling his head slightly to the right. It was adorable. Harry mentally kicked himself for thinking that.

“Ah, not really. I was thinking about grabbing an early lunch but I’m not really hungry anyway.”

He gestured for Malfoy to follow him inside the office. He was doomed and he had only himself to blame.

Chapter Text

Harry couldn’t help but steal a glance at the inside of the stroller as Malfoy pushed it into the office. The baby looked sleepy and confused, his tiny hands clenched into loose fists at each side of his head. Harry felt a pang of guilt for disturbing his sleep.

Now that he could see Malfoy’s baby well and up close, Harry realized that there was simply no way anyone could say that the child was not Malfoy’s. Harry had already noticed the pale blond hair, of course. But the eyes were the same as Malfoy’s as well – both in shape and colour. Harry reckoned Malfoy Junior had the same pointy chin as his father, but it was really hard to tell with a baby’s face. It would probably become apparent in later years. And typically for a baby - his cheeks were full and his nose – tiny. Harry wanted to boop it.

Malfoy must’ve noticed Harry’s staring because a sharp cough snapped Harry out of it.

Malfoy had removed his cloak and had seated himself on one of the visitor’s chair on the other side of Harry’s desk. He looked almost regal, which was a sharp contrast with the old and rickety chairs.

“I guess an introduction is in order. Potter, this is my son – Scorpius.” Malfoy said and made an elegant gesture with his hand towards the baby.

Harry smiled a waved awkwardly at Scorpius. Babies liked him, usually. Well, Teddy liked him, at least. He wanted Scorpius to react positively to him. The baby stared at him unblinkingly for a few moments, then scrunched his face and began fretting. Harry predicted tears and wailing would come soon. There went the good first impression.

Malfoy was on his feet in a flash. He reached into the stroller to scoop Scorpius up. Harry’s eyes immediately fell on Malfoy’s back. The robes were hiding a lot but definitely not all, if the curve of Malfoy’s arse was anything to go by. It was a great curve. Harry managed to tear his gaze away with difficulty. He moved a few scrolls and files around the desk aimlessly.

He only looked up when Malfoy was once again seated on the chair. He was holding a crying Scorpius in his left arm. A bottle of milk was in his right hand.

“I hope you don’t mind if I feed him. He gets fussy if he doesn’t eat after he wakes up from a nap. I came here now because he should’ve slept for another hour or so, but he woke up early… for some reason.” Malfoy finished with a note of sarcasm. Harry flushed at the indirect accusation.

He managed a jerky nod at Malfoy and the other man lowered the bottle to Scorpius. Once Scorpius saw the bottle, his cries stopped immediately. He grabbed it eagerly with his small hands and as soon as the teat was near enough, he latched to it hungrily. Harry couldn’t help noticing the loving and tender expression on Malfoy’s face as he looked down at his child. He felt like he was intruding on a private moment. Scorpius was drinking peacefully in his father’s arms, obviously content for the moment.

A few seconds later Malfoy straighten up and looked back at Harry, eyes significantly colder. Harry wanted Malfoy to look at him with adoration as well. The moment this thought occurred, he wanted to stomp on it. His crush was getting out of hand. The sooner Malfoy reported his monthly activities, the sooner he and his adorable baby would leave.

“Right. Let me just get your file.” Harry mumbled, avoiding eye contact.

He stated Malfoy’s full name and tapped his wand on the upper left drawer of the desk. When a yellow light flashed from within the drawer, Harry opened it and took out Malfoy’s file. It was one of the most convenient pieces of magic the Ministry had to offer.

Harry opened the file and noticed the empty form at the front. It seemed the file was supplying it automatically every month.

Chapter Text

The form itself was pretty simple and Harry was relieved. He had been an Auror for a few years but the paperwork had never been his strong suit. A complicated form that he had never seen before might give him difficulties and he might embarrass himself in front of Malfoy. And that was not something Harry wanted to happen.

He took a quill to write Malfoy’s answers and when he lifted his head to ask the first question, Malfoy’s eyebrow was arched elegantly in question. Harry couldn’t stop himself, mild irritation showing in his voice.

“What?”

Malfoy’s eyebrow came down into a frown instead. “The form is self-filled.”

Harry’s cheeks flamed. Of course it was a self-filled form. There were only a handful of those in the whole Ministry and Harry had never had to fill one of them before. But of course this one was one of them. Forget about not embarrassing himself. Harry avoided Malfoy’s eyes and looked at the offending form instead, putting his quill back on the desk.

“Right. Um, let’s begin then.”

Over two thirds of the report took less than a quarter of an hour. Harry felt useless during the process. He had asked a few questions when he had thought they ought to be asked. But other than that, and reading the questions which Malfoy knew by heart, he had to do nothing else.

There was nothing suspicious about Malfoy’s doings during the month. And there had probably never been. Two more sections to go and this unnecessary report would be finished.

“Next: List people you have met with or talked to prolongedly. List all packages received.”

Malfoy opened his mouth to answer when Scorpius wiggled in his arms, his eyes following the colourful note that had come flying into Harry’s office. The teat disconnected from his tiny mouth and Malfoy removed the bottle away from him. Scorpius continued to wiggle until Malfoy rearranged him so he could see the magenta note better.

“Apologies, Potter. He’s at that age that babies get easily distracted when feeding.”

The paper plane circled Harry’s head twice and landed in a tray on his desk. Scorpius reached with his chubby hand towards it and whined loudly when he realized it was too far away. He was absolutely adorable and Harry bit his lower lip as not to aww at the scene.

“Scorpius, no.” Malfoy’s hand took Scorpius’s much smaller one gently. “No, you can’t have the paper plane.” Malfoy added in a patient voice.

Scorpius was about to cry in frustration, Harry was sure of it. The way his face began scrunching up was the best sign there was. But just before a loud wail had a chance to break free from his lips, Malfoy dangled the milk bottle in front of him.

“Don’t you want to finish the bottle, Scorpius?” he said playfully.

Scorpius watched the bottle mesmerized, with mouth slightly open. A moment later he seemed to decide that he indeed wanted to finish the bottle. He made a small sound and reached for it enthusiastically. Malfoy smiled down at him and lowered the bottle to his lips. Scorpius began feeding again, more content than ever. Crisis safely averted, Malfoy’s attention returned to Harry.

“Right, people I’ve met with or talked to, right? Not counting shop assistants and so on – I’ve seen and talked to my parents almost every day. I’ve met with Pansy and Blaise a couple of times for lunch. With Theo – once. I corresponded with Boris, the apothecary owner, a few times about what potions he needed me to supply. And I talked to Astoria several times via Floo. And she sent 31 packages via the Floo as well. No other packages delivered to my home.”

Harry’s eyebrows climbed his forehead. “That’s a lot of packages. From Astoria, I mean.”

“She sends milk for Scorpius every day.” Malfoy explained simply.

Oh. So she was the mother, most likely. Or maybe not? Maybe she had a baby as well and she had too much milk so she had given Malfoy some? Harry wanted to know. But he felt uncomfortable asking. It had already been answered in previous reports, most likely. So he had no reason to ask. He’d just… look at those reports later. Or maybe not. It’s be invasion of Malfoy’s privacy. Sort of. In any case, Harry decided to decide what to do later.

“Okay. So…” he trailed, looking down at the form, only the last section of it left unfilled. “Lastly - any concerns?”

Malfoy looked uncomfortable. He seemed to consider how to answer the question and Harry thought it best to give him time. Malfoy reached a decision soon.

“Actually… I wasn’t sure whether I should say something because it’s… well, I don’t really have any proof. And maybe I’m just imagining things, being overprotective or whatever Pansy tries to convince me of.”

Harry was instantly intrigued. Whatever concern Malfoy had, maybe it would be a chance for Harry to spend more time in his presence. And Scorpius’s presence too.

“Concerns don’t need proof, so feel free to share.”

Chapter Text

“Fine. Just don’t laugh, Potter.” Malfoy warned.

“I won’t.” Harry assured him. And he hoped that Malfoy wouldn’t say something he’d find funny because there was no way he’d manage not to laugh. And that would infuriate Malfoy. And for once, that was not what Harry wanted to do.

“I…” Malfoy began hesitantly. “Lately, that is to say – the last few weeks, when I’m out, I sometimes get the feeling that someone is following me. I know it sounds vague and that it’s basically just a feeling. But I’m very good at recognizing when someone is following me.” He gave Harry a meaningful look before continuing. “It’s a very specific feeling. Pansy is of the opinion that becoming a father had made me even more paranoid than before and that this is just a figment of my imagination. But I’m unwilling to agree with her.”

Harry looked at Malfoy, not saying a word. He was waiting for the other man to elaborate more on the matter. Maybe give specific locations or time of day that he felt like he’d been followed. But remaining silent proved to be the wrong thing do because Malfoy’s lips pursed and his eyes grew cold as his cheeks grew hot.

“I see you find it just as ridiculous as Pansy did. Well, at least you kept your word and didn’t laugh. I’ll be on my way then, Auror Potter.” He said with barely suppressed anger but managed to stand up slowly enough not to disturb the feeding baby in his arms. He turned around to leave the office and the baby stroller began following him on its own.

Harry, finally realizing how Malfoy had interpreted his silence, stoop up so quickly that his thighs bumped into his desk and it rattled noisily, spilling the ink bottle on a few not-so-unimportant documents.

“No, Malfoy, wait! I-” Harry began but Malfoy cut him off.

“No, Potter, it’s quite alright. You can’t listen to everyone’s hunches. I should’ve known better than to say anything. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Well, I’ve always trusted my hunches and they’ve rarely been wrong. So sit back down, yeah.” Harry gestured for the chair and Malfoy looked at him in surprise.

When Malfoy finally sat down again, Harry took out a new parchment, a quill, and a new bottle of ink. “You said you’ve been followed around for a few weeks. Have you noticed where or what time of the day?”

Malfoy answered Harry’s questions with more details than Harry had expected. Apparently Diagon Alley was the location that Malfoy had felt like he had been stalked the most, followed by a couple of other wizarding locations. Always during the day, but that was simply because Malfoy wasn’t in the habit of going out any other time.

All in all though – it wasn’t much information but Harry decided to make it into a case regardless. Malfoy was visibly surprised. He was in the middle of giving Harry an oddly intense look when Scorpius decided he’d had enough milk and kicked the bottle, as if it had personally offended him. Malfoy’s attention snapped back to his baby and he busied himself putting Scorpius back in the baby stroller. Whatever moment that had been between Harry and Malfoy had ended and Harry felt very disappointed.

Once he and Malfoy exchanged Floo addresses, Harry took out a small golden ball out of the top right drawer of his desk and waved his wand in its direction before handing it to Malfoy.

“This is a distress trace. It’s bound to me now so if you need to contact me urgently, just press the button and I’ll know precisely where you are and apparate there if I can.”

Malfoy took the golden ball and inspected it before putting it in a pocket in his robes.

“Some people may say you’re taking this a bit too seriously. Not me, mind you. But you may be asked why you opened a case for someone’s gut feeling.”

“The last question of the form is there for a reason, isn’t it? There aren’t many Death Eaters walking around and I imagine there are at least a few people who would like to take revenge on whoever they can find. Of course it may be something else but I’d say revenge or misguided justice are the most likely reasons.”

Malfoy nodded solemnly. “I’m concerned about Scorpius. If someone wants to hurt me, they would surely go for Scorpius. If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t have brought this up at all. But I cannot allow anyone to hurt him!”

Harry recognized the fierce protectiveness of a parent. He’d seen it many times. His lips almost curved in a smile but he fought it.

“We’ll find whoever is following you around eventually. Just keep me updated, yeah?”

“Of course. Thank you, Potter. For everything.”

Once Malfoy was gone, Harry sat heavily in his chair and cupped his face with his hands. Instead of ignoring Malfoy he had done the exact opposite. The worst thing was that he knew exactly what he was doing when he was doing it, and he still did it. Now he’d have to talk to Malfoy on a regular basis. He was so supremely fucked. And he had nobody to blame but himself.

Chapter Text

It was Saturday and as every Saturday, Harry went to Ron and Hermione’s house for lunch. He didn’t get to see them often during the week these days . Ron had resigned from the Aurors when Hermione had become pregnant several months ago. And Hermione was currently working from home, being in her last trimester and unable to Floo every day to The Ministry.

The three of them were having lunch in the garden. The weather was pleasant enough. Harry had debated long and hard whether to tell Ron and Hermione about Malfoy. On one hand, he really didn’t want to talk about it. On the other hand – he really wanted to talk about it. It was a weird feeling, to put it simply. In the end, he couldn’t keep his interest a secret from his best friends.

“So, did you guys know that Malfoy’s got a baby?”

Harry was going for nonchalance but he was pretty sure he sounded anything but. Both Ron and Hermione looked at him in surprise, obviously not expecting that topic of discussion.

“I didn’t.” Hermione said simply.

“Blimey! He has a baby? Wait…” Ron’s surprise turned to horror. “How old is his baby?”

“Um… several months old, I think. I’m not very good at guessing babies’ age, you know.” Harry answered.

“Bloody hell! That means our kids will be in the same year in Hogwarts! My poor kid will have to endure Malfoy’s spawn.” Ron whined overdramatically and Hermione patted him on the back with a sympathetic smile on her face.

Personally, Harry couldn’t imagine Scorpius growing up to be a nasty boy like Malfoy had been in school. And the idea itself was offensive to Harry, for some reason that was in no way connected to Harry’s growing crush on Scorpius’s father. Of course not!

Naturally, it was hard imagining innocent babies growing up to be horrible. And Scorpius was no exception. It was just that… Harry really wanted Scorpius to grow up better than Malfoy had. It seemed to Harry that Malfoy had learned the error of his ways after the War. And Scorpius turning out to be a decent boy would be a solid proof of it.

“Maybe Scorpius will turn out decent.” Harry said, hoping that his personal investment in the discussion was not very apparent.

“Scorpius?” Hermione asked, one bushy eyebrow arching in question.

Harry realized he’d fucked up. That was the reason why he hadn’t wanted to talk about Malfoy. But he had ended up talking about Malfoy and now he’d have to explain why he knew the name of Malfoy’s baby. And Harry was terrible at lying to Ron and Hermione so that option was out of the question. The truth it was then.

“Scorpius. It’s Malfoy’s son’s name.”

“And how do you know that, mate? Did mini Malfoy get introduced to you?” Ron said with a laugh, the question clearly meant as a joke.

“Um, actually yes. Malfoy introduced him to me.”

There. He’d said it. And now for the inevitable question that would follow.

“You met Malfoy?”

Harry told them everything. How caring and loving Malfoy was towards Scorpius. How Harry had offered him his help when Malfoy was concerned that someone was following him around. Everything. Harry needed to get it off his chest. He needed acceptance.

When he was done, silence followed. Ron and Hermione looked at each other knowingly.

“Harry, do you …” Hermione began tentatively and Ron whined pitifully. “fancy Draco?”

Harry felt his cheeks warm. His half-empty plate was suddenly the most interesting thing in the world.

“Maaate! Out of all the men and women in the world, you chose Malfoy!”

There was no real contempt or accusation in Ron’s voice but Harry’s face flamed regardless.

“I can’t help it!”

“Mate, you have a terrible taste in men.” Ron shook his head. He was starting to accept Harry’s interest in Malfoy. “Terrible, I tell you.”

Harry’s lips curved in a smile. “Absolutely terrible.”

“It’s not that terrible though, Draco's rather fit.” Harmione said, taking another bite from her meal.

“Hermione! Not you too!” Ron exclaimed. His horrified look made Harry laugh and Hermione followed. Ron exhaled loudly. “Guess I’ll have to make nice with the ferret if you like him so much, mate.”

Harry smiled, giddy at his friends acceptance. He didn’t mention that Ron probably wouldn’t have to make nice with Malfoy because Malfoy was in no way interested in Harry. But he didn’t want to ruin his good mood so he pushed that thought aside.

Chapter Text

Harry wondered whether eight days was enough time before Flooing Malfoy. He didn’t want to look too eager to see Malfoy. But then again, if he truly didn’t want to appear eager, he’d wait for Malfoy himself to contact him when the other man had something to report. But that meant that Harry might have to wait weeks before that happened. And Harry was in fact very eager to see Malfoy, so that was obviously not an option.

Harry paced in front of the fireplace, anxiety pooling in his belly. He knew that there was no way Malfoy would ever look at him the same way he looked at Malfoy. As far as he knew – the man didn’t even fancy men. And he definitely didn’t fancy Harry. Malfoy and Harry were at the best possible terms at the moment – neutral acquaintances. It was hopeless to wish for more. It would only bring Harry disappointment and heartache.

He wasn’t looking for anything casual or a quick lay. So even if miraculously Malfoy wanted him that way and for that purpose, it would definitely not be enough for Harry. And the man couldn’t possibly have time for more. He had a baby after all.

Harry wanted a steady partner. He wanted a child or several as well. Being Harry Potter made finding suitable partner very difficult. Being under 30 made it even more difficult. The ‘children’ part at least. Few people wanted children in their 20s. And those who did – wanted them with people they’ve know or have been with for years. Sadly, he and Ginny hadn’t worked as well as all had expected. He had tried to cling to whatever relationship they had but Ginny refused to settle for it. It was best for the both of them that way. But it was still painful for Harry to have his family dreams with Ginny crumble so completely.

Ron and Hermione had what Harry wanted. A strong bond, trust, love, domestic bliss, a child on the way. Harry was happy for them, of course. But he wanted his own happiness as well, his own partner to share his life with. And pining after Malfoy wasn’t going to help him with that at all. It would just make him miserable.

And yet… he couldn’t help it. He wanted to see Malfoy, he wanted to talk to Malfoy, and he very much wanted to be close to Malfoy.

He stopped pacing and knelt in front of the fireplace. Well, that wouldn’t be the first thing he’d done that wasn’t good for him. And it wouldn’t be Harry if he didn’t give it a try. At least then he wouldn’t wonder about “what ifs”. No regrets about not trying, at least.

He pronounced in clear voice Malfoy’s Floo address and put his head into the green flames. He waited several seconds for the usual ping of acceptance for a Floo call that all private residences had and Malfoy’s face came into focus. His hair was rather out of shape. Well, for Malfoy at least.

“Do you mind coming through, Potter?”

Malfoy seemed busy at the moment. But he had invited Harry rather than telling him to call later or telling him that he’d call later. So that was a good thing, Harry thought. A very good thing. He’d actually visit Malfoy’s place. It was honestly more than he had expected and he found himself unable to form words. He just nodded enthusiastically and Malfoy’s face disappeared.

Harry removed his head from the flames, grabbed a bit of Floo powder and flooed to Malfoy’s apartment. When he stepped out of the other fireplace, Malfoy wasn’t in the immediate surroundings. In front of the fireplace was a three-seat deep green sofa that looked more comfortable than Harry had expected any furniture of Malfoy’s to look like. The sofa was covered in fluffy light beige pillows. And in front of it was an equally fluffy carpet in the same colour.

Harry heard the movement of bricks behind him and turned to see the fireplace shrinking until it was only big enough for a house cat to pass through. The wall above it had retracted and Harry was staring at a 30” Plasma TV. He could see his own reflection, mouth gaping at the unexpected muggle object in Malfoy’s apartment. Malfoy’s voice snapped him out of his bewilderment and he finally located his host in the kitchen to his left. Malfoy’s apartment was an open plan one – the living room, kitchen and dining room were all in the same rather big space.

“Make yourself comfortable, Potter.” Malfoy said and turned towards Harry, gesturing to the sofa and then to the two bar stools near the bar plot of the kitchen. “I hope you don’t mind coming through. I’m almost finished cooking. And it’s generally easier to keep an eye on Scorpius when my head is not stuck in the fireplace.”

Harry noticed the floating mirror to Malfoy’s right. He assumed that in its reflection, Malfoy had a clear view of Scorpius and his play area.

“Oh, and please take off your shoes.” Malfoy said and turned his back to Harry to continue stirring whatever was in the pot.

“I don’t mind.” Harry said reaching for the shoelaces of his sneakers. He should’ve worn a nicer pair of socks. He had, of course, thrown out all of uncle Vernon’s old socks ages ago. He had new socks now. But he would’ve worn a more presentable pair if he knew Malfoy would see them. The ones he had on were red and had the bloody Gryffindor crest on them. Resigning to his fate, he took off his sneakers and took a better look at Malfoy’s apartment.

Behind the green sofa was another huge carpet. It was a darker brown in colour and not nearly as fluffy. There were multiple toys scattered around on it and what Harry recognized as a baby gym. Little Scorpius was inside it playing with one of the hanging toys. He had a smile on his face and giggled every time the toy made a sound when pushed around. It was endearingly adorable and Harry smiled at the sight. Teddy had been adorable at Scorpius’s age but Harry had been too haunted by the War still and hadn’t spent as much time with his godson as he would’ve liked. He spent more time with him nowadays though. But he still regretted missing so much.

To his right was a desk that was far less tidy than Harry had expected, and a single door – presumably leading to the rest of the apartment – a couple of rooms and a bathroom perhaps.

To the left was the kitchen with Malfoy still busy at the hobs. What surprised Harry was that the kitchen was modern. Harry had expected at least a classical kitchen from Malfoy. But no – it had simple white doors, not an ornament in sight. A nice wooden top. And a fridge. Malfoy had a fridge. Malfoy had a plasma TV and a fridge. Surprises kept coming and coming.

To the right of the kitchen was a circular wooden table with a few chairs around it. The whole “wall” opposite the fireplace was made of glass panels – from ceiling to floor. Apparently Malfoy lived at least on the 8th floor. Perhaps higher. And the view was rather nice.

All in all – Malfoy’s apartment looked very muggle and very modern. And quite comfy. The exact opposite of what Harry had expected.

“Are you quite done inspecting my dwelling? Do you bestow it your sign of approval?” Malfoy said, looking less than impressed with Harry’s inspection.

Harry realized he was still standing in front of the fireplace and his cheeks coloured slightly. He moved to the bar plot and sat on one of the bar stools.

“I do, actually. It’s a very nice place you have, Malfoy. I was just surprised. It looks very modern. And muggle.”

Malfoy let out a short laughter, amused. “I like modern and muggle. It’s… well, to put it simply – it makes me feel freer, more alive. It’s a rather nice change from my life up to adulthood.”

Harry could relate to that. No matter how extensive his repair works had been on Grimmauld Place, the place still felt stuffy and unpleasant. Harry couldn’t relax properly in the house, he felt uneasy around everything. Then one day Hermione had suggested Harry get rid of all the old stuff. So Harry did, eventually. He had gone to IKEA and bought all the new furniture he needed. He felt loads better after refurbishing. He had made the house his and he finally felt at home.

“I know what you mean.”

Malfoy turned around in surprise but a second later gave Harry a small smile.

“I’m almost ready with the meal. You’ll stay for lunch, yes?”

Harry felt as if he had drunk a bucketful of Felix Felicis. He tried to suppress a grin and nodded enthusiastically. “If it’s no trouble.”