Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived scratched his 32 year old chest. His fingers made small crunching noises as they found brown curls. He smiled and looked down at his bed.
It was a quite ordinary bed. Large and made of mahogany, it sported a heavy white down coverlet. Its four posters rose to the ceiling, light blue curtains swinging lightly in the breeze.
The extraordinary thing was what was in the bed.
Blonde hair spilling out over a crisp white pillowcase glimmered in the morning light. Draco Malfoy slept deeply as Harry smiled wistfully.
They hated each other as children. They grew to despise each other. A single act of what most people would call cowardice changed Draco’s loyalty in the war. If you could call it loyalty. Either way, it worked out favorably for the Order.
They grew up, and then grew together. Harry heard Molly Weasley remarking if either had been born female it was a pureblooded match that would have changed history if it were the 19th Century.
Harry thought that was quite an extraordinary set of circumstances, but Draco had agreed.
‘Our lines are both traceable back to the founding of Hogwarts; they’ve never fallen and had to reestablish themselves. The alliances of houses back when things really mattered would have changed history,” Draco had remarked lightly.
‘Well, then we’d rule the world,’ Harry said.
‘Even I’d be a little frightened,’ Draco chuckled.
Harry took a deep breath and tried not to yawn. Draco snorted in his sleep. Then he farted.
Harry shook his head and stifled a laugh. No, perhaps it hadn’t been all sunshine and happiness, but it was theirs and he was thankful for it.
“What are you staring at?” Draco said stickily. He smacked his lips and made a slurping sound.
“You’re quite lovely in the morning,” Harry said, smiling. “At least until you wake up.”
“Bugger off,” Draco slurred as he burrowed further under the covers. All that hinted of him was a lock of hair poking out of the jumble of coverings.
Harry snorted. He turned and left the bedroom. His bare feet thudded softly on the wooden floor as he went down the hall and went down the stairs.
Harry went through his usual morning motions. Draco had never been tolerable in the morning until after he had some tea. Harry began to brew a pot, and then fixed a tray with some grapes and vanilla wafers.
He watched the Weasley owl flutter through the kitchen window and drop off a letter. He really wished Molly would stop worrying. It’s not like men living without someone to care for them often spontaneously combusted. It was nice when she came over to cook, though.
The Potter house was more suited for entertaining, anyway. With the way the Weasley tendency to exponentially produce, large space was a deciding factor with any gathering.
Draco seemed to welcome the visitors, in his quiet way. He always seemed grateful when a tiny redhead wriggled into his lap with a book or toy. Harry was surprised at Draco’s tenderness with the little ones, although Harry was startled at his sternness.
Charlie’s boys had only done anything dangerous once. A miracle with that many children around. Augustus and Kerry had become annoyed with their 6 year old sisters tagging along after them everywhere and decided to let her have a go at a broomstick. They were both over the age of 14. They knew better.
Apparently they had expected her to fall off as soon as it had moved, but she had the broom clutched in a death grip as it rose quickly in the air. The Weasley adults, Draco, and Harry, heard the screaming from inside the house. Draco had beat Molly out the door.
Charlie remarked they were lucky Draco didn’t get to them first. At least all their grandmother tried to do was remove them from the planet. Draco was threatening to kill them, resurrect them, and kill them again. Harry always thought the image was funny, after Charlie’s daughter was safe on the ground of course.
Harry jumped slightly as the teapot began whistling. He scooped the pot off the burner and slipped a tea cozy over it, then he grabbed the letter from Molly and padded back upstairs, the tray he loaded up floating behind him.
“Good morning, sunshine,” Harry sang out as he returned back to the bedroom. The covers moved with a heavy slithering sound. A groan came from under the covers.
Harry whipped the covers off Draco. Draco lay on his stomach, his knees tucked up under him so his navy blue flannel bum was pointed towards the air. When the sun hit his face he buried it under his pillow. Harry smacked him soundly on the butt.
“Geroff,” Draco mumbled from under his pillow.
“Letter from Molly,” Harry said as he motioned the tray down to a black wooden side table. Draco popped his head out.
“Bringing the kids over Saturday?”
The Weasleys excursions to Harry and Draco’s house were supposedly only going to happen ‘once in awhile.’ It had not slipped Draco’s notice that they had been over every weekend for three months, not that he seemed to mind.
“Haven’t opened it yet,” Harry said, sitting on the edge of the bed holding the heavy brown envelope.
Draco grabbed Harry around the waist and tried to drag him back into bed.
“What are you doing?” Harry laughed.
“I’m cold,” said Draco, pouting. “It’s your fault.”
“The tea will warm you up,” Harry said fighting him off.
“You’ll do a better job,” Draco insisted.
“I’m still sore from last night,” Harry said, slightly annoyed.
“Sorry,” said Draco, grinning.
“You look really sorry,” Harry said, pushing him away and giving him a look.
“Want me to kiss it and make it better?” Draco drawled, waggling his eyebrows.
“I swear, you have multiple personalities in the morning,” Harry said ripping the envelope open. Harry scanned the letter.
“What!” Harry yelled suddenly, startling Draco.
“Everything alright?” Draco said, instantly awake and serious. Harry noticed Draco starting to reach for his wand.
“There’s no threat,” Harry waved at him. “At least not yet.”
Draco struggled to look over Harry’s shoulder. “Then what’s going on?”
“Look at this,” Harry said shoving the letter at Draco. Draco’s face paled as he read it.
“This isn’t true,” Draco said. “I heard it as a child from my nanny. A fairy story.”
“Do you really think Molly would send us a fairy story?”
“She is getting up a bit in age-“
Harry hit him on the shoulder. “Don’t be stupid.”
“Well, it’s not going to be me!” Draco laughed, waving his wand at the teapot. It served the tea and two perfect cups floated on saucers toward them. “You can get yourself knocked up if you want to.”
Harry read the contents of the letter from top to bottom. “It says here in only happens once a millennia.”
“Thank heaven for that,” Draco said, sipping his tea. He sighed happily.
“I think I’ll go see Molly after breakfast,” Harry said.
“I’ll go with you,” Draco said. Harry looked startled. “Well it’s not like a child wouldn’t change my life at all.”
Draco couldn’t quite make out the feelings behind the look Harry was giving him. “Well if she is right, we need to know either way. It’s not like we’ve ever had a need for birth control before.”
Harry looked slightly horrified.
“Honestly, I’d owl Granger,” Draco said. Harry looked surprised.
Surprising no one, Hermione and Draco had never gotten over their dislike for each other. Ron had always backed up Hermione, so when they got married the invitation was addressed to Harry only, even though Draco had moved in three years before. After a curt letter Draco had been reluctantly invited and was treated politely, but he still got sideways glances and there was whispering behind his back.
After the wedding, Ron and Hermione had moved to Spain, following one of her research projects and had never gotten the chance to really get over her dislike of Draco. That was seven years ago.
They always sent Christmas cards, of course, and Hermione’s always contained several pages of updates in their life. She had lost one baby, a girl, something that had nearly reduced Molly to hysteria six years ago. After that Hermione had birthed twin boys and another two sons. She had adjusted her research to Magical Development in Children and had gotten a grant from the Spanish Ministry of Magic. They were happy, if not warmer than Hermione liked.
“That’s not a bad idea,” Harry said. “I’ll do that after we talk to Molly.”
Draco shrugged. “Just a thought.”
“I could write to Dumbledore,” Harry hesitated.
“That barmy old fool,” Draco started, but didn’t contradict Harry. He reburied his head under the pillow after he had emptied his cup. The cup floated back to the tray and the pot began pouring another serving. “Send a warning to Molly. We don’t want to pop in on her and Arthur again.”
Harry laughed at the memory of walking in on the Weasleys. Apparently Arthur had remarked it had been some time since they had tested the stability of their kitchen table. With an empty house they didn’t have as many distractions to stop them. Except for a practically-foster-son and his partner stopping by to say hello.
“Good idea,” Harry said, still snickering. “You’ll have to get dressed eventually, you know.”
“Molly thinks my pajamas are cute,” Draco said, still muffled under the pillow.
“Nice try,” Harry said, intercepting the tea before it got to Draco.
“Hey!” Draco protested, popping his head up.
“It’s what you get for being so lazy,” Harry said, downing the cup. “Now, help me with last night’s dishes.”
“Fine,” Draco said, rolling his eyes. “I’ll do it with magic. You start on the letters.”