#lovely

textrovert-01:

rockingrobin69:

“Daddy?”

But it was Harry who woke up; Harry who was always half-awake anyway, Harry who could hear the little pitter patter all across the hallway. Harry who will have to deal with this, now.

“Erm… your dad is in the next room. He doesn’t sleep here.” Ever since they came to live in Grimmauld, Draco simply refused. He’d slip out of Harry’s bed every night, kissing his fingertips away, shaking his head with that pout Harry’s grown to adore. We can’t, he’d say, and Harry would relent. Harry, who understood what it meant to Draco, having Scorpius to look after. Harry who would do anything in his power to stop Draco from looking so sad. Harry whose heart broke in two every single night, when he couldn’t.

Scorpius shook his head. “No one’s there.”

“Oh. Maybe he went for a glass of water or something. Is—are you okay?”

“I…” he was so small in the doorway, red pyjamas and hair all mussed. It tugged something in Harry’s chest. “Never mind.”

Harry had no idea what to do; Scorpius would never come to him for help. But he was here, and he was alone, and he seemed scared. “Did you have a bad dream?”

“No,” Scorpius looked down.

“Do you want to… talk about it?”

“No,” Scorpius said again. But he didn’t leave.

“Right. That’s… right. I, uh, I like your pyjamas.”

Harry could do nothing but twiddle his thumbs for the long, tense pause. “They’re fire trucks. Muggles use them to put out fires.”

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat twice. “They’re cool. It’s—I, er, don’t really like fire.”

“Daddy doesn’t, either,” Scorpius’s head came up.

“I know. We talked about that a little. A lot.”

“I’ll be a firefighter when I’m older.” His voice was a touch louder as he took a step into the room. “I’ll have a truck, and a hose, and a helmet and everything.”

“That’s a good plan,” Harry found he was smiling, despite himself. “What does your dad say about that?”

“He says I’m braver than him.” The little face crumpled again, and Harry realised he will do whatever he can to stop it from happening. Not a Malfoy he won’t try to save, apparently. No, it was worse than that, because he knew how he felt about Draco for a while, but now he understood he loved them both.

“Your dad is brave. Remember how he faced that huge spider tonight? Whew. Very impressive. I’d say he’s practically a firefighter.”

Scorpius didn’t quite laugh, but he made a tiny, rippling sort of sound. “Daddy doesn’t like killing spiders. He always used to take them outside, before, in our old room.”

Harry hated thinking about the teeny, dark, mouldy flat where Draco and Scorpius lived. “He’s very kind. And so good with animals, now. Big and small.”

“Daddy said we’ll have a dog one day,” Scorpius smiled, came a bit further inside. “When we live in a big house, like this one. But, ours.”

That thing that twinged before in Harry’s chest convulsed, worse than ever. How badly he wanted Grimmauld to be theirs, too.

“A dog sounds nice. I’ve always wanted one.”

“We’ll have a big dog, like Uncle Greg’s. And I’ll train him not to bark, so the neighbours aren’t mad at us, and he’ll have a collar with our phone number so if he gets lost, he can always come back. Because Daddy doesn’t like it when things are lost.”

You’re not lost, Harry wanted to say. Scorpius was nearly touching the bed now, he came so close. “Maybe I should get a dog. You could help me train it, if you wanted.”

“Really?” Scorpius had grey eyes, like Draco’s, open wide. Harry’s heart went five times its normal size.

“Yeah, really. If—"

“What are you doing here, mon chou?” A soft voice startled Harry almost out of his skin. Draco was there, leaning against the doorway. “I thought I heard a little cabbage squeaking about. Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“I had a… Harry says we’ll get him a dog,” Scorpius ran right into his open arms. Harry only felt a touch jealous.

“Really?” Draco grinned. “That’s new.”

“I just thought… you know I want you to stay here,” Harry pleaded. “And I always wanted a dog. So why not get one now, if it makes Scorp happy… if it makes… I just want you to be happy. Both of you.”

“That’s—” Draco bit his lip, sighed. “Come, let’s get you back to bed. We can talk about all this in the morning.”

“Daddy?” Scorpius looked between him and Harry, hesitant. “You can sleep here tonight, if you want. I don’t mind.”

Harry could hear the lump in his own throat in Draco’s voice. “You… know? About us?”

Scorpius shrugged. “So the dog—we’ll really talk about it tomorrow?”

“Yes, darling,” Draco laughed. “All right. Say good night to Harry.”

“Good night, Harry. Maybe you can get an Old English Sheep, like uncle Greg’s?”

“Now, menace, off we go. Night, Harry. I’ll… see you soon.”

Draco smiled nervously, leaving Harry alone in the bedroom. Harry, whose heart was so full, he could float. The things he wanted, but didn’t dare dream of—firetrucks and fluffy dogs and smiling grey eyes—everything felt close enough to touch. For now, only real by moonlight, but tomorrow… maybe tomorrow, too.

I love this! ❤