Chapter Text
Dinner was a quiet affair at Malfoy Manor this particular evening. Lucius had spent three and a half solid years in Azkaban and had been released just at Christmas. It was now the end of February. The atmosphere wasn’t quite tense in the room, but it was clear their son was.
“Draco, you’ve been quiet this evening,” Narcissa intoned after she set down her fork. “Alright, son?” She asked him. Lucius watched the exchange, curious.
“Yeah, yeah,” Draco nearly squeaked. But then he took a deep breath as if to steady himself. Lucius watched him swallow. “I am fine. Just thinking about things,” he finished vaguely.
“You don’t seem so fine,” Lucius noted.
Narcissa interrupted. “You said my sister requested your presence today to place a potions order. Did something happen?”
Draco looked up suddenly. Narcissa had hit it on the head apparently. “No!” He said in alarm. “I mean, she will probably be a regular customer,” he clarified suddenly. “She wants to establish a relationship, at least business wise if not personal.”
Lucius felt his own eyebrows raise as his wife muttered, “Oh…” He found himself speaking the question he knew she wanted to know. “Is she ill, Andromeda?”
“No,” Draco shook his head softly looking at his plate. “It’s not for her.”
“Her grandson then?” Lucius asked. “The werewolf baby?”
“No,” Draco clarified again, his own eyebrows raised at the thought. “Though she might need my services for that later,” he admitted, cocking his head as if the thought of more money pleased him.
“Then who is the potion request for?” Narcissa pressed, looking slightly confused.
“Harry Potter,” Draco finally admitted. “He’s living with her. He’s the baby’s godfather.”
“Oh,” Narcissa said again. “Well, that’s good of him,” she said softly. “He should help her raise the child. She has no one else.”
Lucius snorted. “Potter couldn’t request you himself? He needs Andromeda to do his work for him?”
Draco looked up at Lucius. Gray eyes locked on gray eyes. “Apparently,” Draco said earnestly. He cleared his throat. “Apparently, Potter is like Great Aunt Augustine.”
The fork fell from Lucius’s hand as the shock registered within him. His mother’s sister was… fragile, to say the least. She needed constant care around the clock. The family treated her like glass.
“You mean Potter chose a lifestyle such as hers?” Narcissa asked carefully.
Draco nodded his affirmation. “I mean, the Prophet has never mentioned such proclivities but…”
“He hasn’t been in view of the public for some years now,” Narcissa pointed out. “Plus Aunt Augustine could snap out of it when she wanted to. I am sure he could too.”
“Who is his caregiver then?” Lucius asked suddenly, remembering the way his Uncle Louis had dedicated his life to caring for his Aunt Augustine. He tried not to remember the stories that his uncle gleefully told of their depraved sex life. “Andromeda took on that title?” Of course, Louis had a few people he trusted to sit with Aunt Augustine while he was at work.
“No, but sort of?” Draco said, showing his own confusion with the situation. “Potter doesn’t have a caregiver. But Aunt And—“ Draco stuttered. “She told me to call her Andy,” he said slowly, as if it were a foreign thought.
Narcissa smiled fondly, reaching for Lucius’s hand. “Sounds like her,” she told Draco, encouraging him to continue.
“Aunt Andy said she offers Potter a safe space so he can be who he wants to be, play like he wants to play.” Draco still sounded stunned to say it. But then the confusion took on an angry twinge. “Potter is my age,” Draco said suddenly. “My age! And instead of wanting to get a job and be a part of society, he wants to hide and act like a child! He’s not a child. He killed the Dark Lord for Merlin’s sake!”
He looked at his parents with slight outrage.
Narcissa hummed as Lucius just observed his son’s outburst. He wondered if he might have been angry too, if Azkaban hadn't worn him down. He still felt exhausted, still hadn’t caught up on his sleep even after two months. Then he thought of his Aunt Augustine and decided no, he wasn’t angry with Potter at all for his choices.
“Maybe he deserves a break to be a kid after doing that,” Narcissa reasoned with him. Draco turned wide eyes to his mother.
“It’s been four years,” he said. “He’s had time.”
“Aunt Augustine had her childhood ripped away from her. She was kidnapped by muggles at the age of three and finally retrieved as a teenager, but it was too late,” Lucius said. “She never got over that. You know that.” An image fell into his brain unbidden, Potter in a onesie. His aunt stayed in an adult size onesie, often with a tutu.
Draco scoffed. “That’s not the case for Potter. He was raised by relatives,” Draco informed them, staying with his stance.
Lucius shrugged, returning to his dinner. “Perhaps. Yet he was still ripped away from the Wizarding World and thrown back into it,” he mumbled.
“Amidst a war at that,” Narcissa added. “What potion are they asking for? Are you going to deny him your service?”
Draco’s shoulders seemed to sag. “No,” he confessed. “I would never.” He took a sip of his wine. “They want two potions. One is just an advanced calming potion, to reset stress levels in order to help Potter embrace the mindset?” His upper lip curled in judging confusion. “Then Aunt Andy wants me to… to create a potion, one of my own.”
“And that is?” Lucius pressed him.
“Something similar to Dreamless Sleep, but less addictive, and one that doesn’t stop dreams completely. Moreover, a potion that repels bad dreams or maybe even all dreams, yet still it propels happy dreams. Imprints happy thoughts and relaxing ambient dreams into the sleep. It’s going to be a challenge,” Draco sighed.
Narcissa smiled brilliantly at him. “We all know you love a challenge,” she said. “Think you can do it?”
Draco smiled back at her softly. “Yeah, I think I can. It might take some time, but I have got some ideas.”
“Well, don’t think so much of Potter’s uses of the potions, or his choices in life,” Narcissa told him. “Just think of the massive opportunity this is for you as a Potions Maker if you can create this potion.”
Draco snorted. “It’s not like I can use it in advertising! I am doing this under confidentiality!” It did touch Lucius and make him laugh that Draco did not think telling his parents was breaking the confidentiality agreement.
“No, but Andy can spread news of the potion by word of mouth. Besides, regardless of what you are supplying him with, if society learns you are exclusively the Potions Master that Harry Potter uses…” Narcissa grinned at her son. “Cheers, Draco.” He returned her toast, their glasses tinkling softly. “To a well-run business, profit, and reputation.” Lucius grinned. Indeed, his son was doing well. He was proud.
***
Draco thought he was going to faint when he found out. He had been hard at work on his new potion recipe, trying different mixtures, experimenting on rabbits. His mother glided delicately into his workroom and propped her hip against his table. He looked up at her, mouth falling open as she informed him that the family would be going to have dinner at Andromeda’s.
“I know you are still working on the recipe,” Narcissa told him, “but surely you have the calming draught ready.” Draco couldn’t focus on his recipe anymore so he stood up to get ready instead. He hadn’t actually seen Potter last time, and for some reason, the thought of seeing Potter this time had made him antsy. He had known his mother had written a letter to his aunt, hoping to regain their old sisterly relationship. He hadn’t known it had gone so far that his family were to come for dinner.
Andromeda welcomed them with open arms, pecking each on the cheek as they entered her abode. She ushered them into the kitchen as they filed in, the same kitchen she requested Draco’s help in. Her house was no manor, but it had ample space. It was comfortable.
Draco awkwardly gave Andromeda the calming potions, ten vials of it, which she gratefully took and whisked to a back room. She returned quickly enough and led them to the dining table.
Place settings had already been arranged on the table. She added the wine his parents had brought to the one on the table. The wine poured itself as they sat.
“Where is your housemate?” Narcissa asked as she took a sip of the wine. “And your grand baby. I would just love to see the bundle of joy.”
Andy grinned at them. “Harry and Teddy are putting up their toys. They will be right out.” Draco almost choked at the fact that she just out and said their toys.
“So Potter is dining with us?” Narcissa wanted clarification.
Andy nodded. “Yes,” she smirked. “Took a bit of convincing, but he is eating with us.”
She glanced around at the table, settled on Draco’s shocked face. “Yes, your mother told me what all you informed her and your father of,” she waggled her eyebrows. He was even more startled that she wasn’t upset. “So long as the information stays within the family, I am not upset,” she stated as if reading his mind. Draco squirmed, a little unsettled. His mother gave him a soft, gentle smile. She was not surprised. Draco didn’t grow up with his aunt around after all. How did he know how she would react? “Harry knows as well, that you all are aware of his proclivities. But how he presents himself and behaves tonight is still a mystery to me.” She nonchalantly settled in her own seat, and it was then a door in the hallway opened.
Draco turned to watch Potter shuffle into the room, a little boy tailing him like a shadow. Food appeared on the table, and Draco turned back to it. “Duck, I decided on,” Aunt Andy told them as if she didn’t notice Potter.
“What’s the garnish?” Narcissa asked her. They chatted easily about the food and Harry sidled even slower against the wall.
Finally, Aunt Andy sighed heavily. “Harry, quit sneaking and come take a seat.”
Potter looked abashedly at Andy with large green eyes then slid in his socks to his seat where he sat down beside her, the toddler climbing up onto his lap, giggling as he did so. Both Potter and the toddler were in plain T-shirts with long pajama bottoms. The kid’s bottoms had hippogriffs on them, and Potter’s had snitches. Potter wasn’t wearing his glasses. His hair was shaggy, covering his forehead and his ears. It made him look younger than Draco knew he was.
“Teddy, meet your great Aunt and Uncle,” Andy cooed at the child. He was four years old, or about to be, if Draco remembered correctly, born toward the end of the war. Teddy giggled and turned in Potter’s arms, hiding his face in the boy’s shoulders. “Oh stop acting shy,” Andy admonished him. “You aren’t near as shy as Harry. Now sit down in your seat.” It seemed Potter was the one who didn’t want to let go, Draco noted when Potter’s arms tightened around the kid. “Oh, stop using him as a shield, Harry!” Potter gave her a guilty yet betrayed look, and let Teddy climb into his own chair.
“It’s nice to meet you, Teddy,” his mother said kindly. She turned to Potter. “And you too, little one.” His mother was daring in her own rights. Potter’s eyes widened and shot to Draco, to Andy, then to Lucius and back to Narcissa. He said nothing, and Aunt Andy pushed the conversation in a different direction.
Dinner passed easily with Narcissa and Andy, even Lucius at times, holding conversation with Teddy who turned out to be a chatter box. Potter sat beside him, his mouth staying shut throughout the meal. Teddy was regaling them with a story of him and Potter flying on a hippogriff all the way to Egypt. Teddy’s hair changed color with his excitement. “A metamorphmagus, like his mother,” Andy told them proudly.
“Did that really happen?” Narcissa asked, amazed. Potter was pink in the face and shyly shaking his head while Teddy vehemently insisted it did.
Lucius cleared his throat, making Draco himself jump, but Potter's jumping was a little more obvious. Draco watched the green eyes flit over to his father. Lucius leaned forward. “Are you not going to touch your plate, Mr. Potter?” He asked.
Harry looked at Andromeda, back at Lucius with wide eyes.
He was again gazing at Andy when he spoke. Her eyebrows raised in encouragement for him to speak. “I am not hungry,” he told her in a small voice. That one sentence was all he said the entire meal.
Aunt Andy let out another long sigh. “You have to eat something, Harry. We aren’t going through this again.” Draco could swear Potter shrank in his seat, his shoulders pulling up in defense. “There’s nothing to punish yourself for,” she told him softly, gazing straight into his eyes.
“Heya, Harry!” The toddler chirped up from the other side of Potter. “We can feed each other, like airplanes!” Potter turned to Teddy just in time for Teddy to pick up potatoes on Potter’s fork and zoom it into his mouth. Potter giggled, chewing his potatoes and turning even more red in the cheeks. He picked up Teddy’s fork and returned the favor, flying some broccoli into Teddy’s mouth. “Ew, broccoli!” Teddy said around the food. They both started chortling, but continued to feed each other. Aunt Andy rolled her eyes beside them.
At the end of dinner, to Draco’s surprise, his parents pulled out two presents from their coats, enlarging them to normal size. “For the kids,” Lucius told Andromeda as he passed each Teddy and Potter a gift. Teddy’s consisted of large building blocks, and the child squealed in joy, hopping up and down, asking Potter to build with him already. Potter opened his own present, and Draco was startled to see him light up as he pulled out a stuffed lion. The lion turned its head and roared in Potter’s arms. Potter giggled a little, turned red again, but he held the lion tight in his arms. He shot shy eyes at Draco's parents. “Thank you,” he said into the lion’s mane. He turned to Andromeda quickly. “May I be excused?”
She smiled. “Fine, go play with your new toys, both of you.” Potter and Teddy ran off down the hallway, holding hands together.
Draco, his parents, and his aunt finished another bottle of wine in the sitting room while she and his parents caught up with each other. He sat back and listened, feeling at peace. It was actually quite lovely to see his mother being so conversational, to see his father looking alive and like he had interest in something. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that Potter decided to be an adult child. Not if it meant his mother was reconnecting with her sister, not if it meant his family was feeling whole again.
One thing was for sure though. He couldn’t keep thinking of this Harry as the Potter he always knew. This was nothing like the Potter he knew. This was Harry, just Little Harry.