Second Chance (2025 Christmas Story) - Chapter 25

So ... this chapter got a little away from me. So there will be one more bonus chapter after this to finish off the story. Enjoy!

Title: Second Chance – Chapter Twenty-Five
Author: sesheta_66 || AO3: sesheta_66
Prompts used: slythindor100’s early bird prompt R—Small Faceless Snow-figure (picture under the cut) and dracoharry100’s prompt 31: Auld Lang Syne
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 5.8K (this part)
Rating: R (eventually, PG-13 this part)
Warning: none
Summary: This is the second Christmas for Draco without Astoria and Harry's first since Ginny remarried. Will best friends Scorpius and Albus be just what they need to rekindle something they'd thought fleeting and lost forever?
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: Written for the slythindor100 Early Bird 25 Days of Draco and Harry and the dracoharry100 Christmas Challenge.

On LJ: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25

OR on AO3





Second Chance – Chapter 25

For the next hour, Draco replayed everything the weasel had said to him. Any which way he thought about it, the person who'd be most affected by whatever happened was Potter. He would either have to do what the weasel told him to do or he would face problems with his ex, and possibly less time with his kids.

What kind of a friend, never mind a supposed best friend, does that? Threatens to have your children withheld from you if you don't do as he expects? Draco knew full well that the weasel couldn't wield that much power, but he could make things miserable for Potter through deceit and pressure.

The wild card was his sister. Potter had never given any indication that she was an unreasonable sort, but it's not like they'd spent hours talking about her. Who knew what she was like? She'd been one of the leaders of the rebellion against Snape at Hogwarts, to her own misfortune, and that was at sixteen years of age. She'd also been a star athlete, a professional Quidditch player, competing against the world's best. A formidable force, to be sure.

But would she do that to Potter? To her own children? Deprive them of their father?

The law wouldn't allow something that drastic, and Potter was a pillar of the community, but still, it could make things challenging. Draco had heard tell of children barely seeing their father, told horrible things about him, poisoned against him by a bitter ex. He couldn't see that happening to Potter, but again … Weasley would know his sister better than Draco did.

And even if it didn't amount to much, even if Potter and the weaselette went back to status quo – shared custody – what toll would a court case take on Potter and his kids? Surely it would get media attention, and that was never a good thing.

How could the weasel do this?

Draco wavered from anger at having what he wanted so close only to have it ripped away … to helplessness at not knowing what to do … to frustration with the level of power someone could wield over another person … to nausea at the thought of Potter having his children torn away or poisoned against him … to despair at having to let Potter go.

Because in the end, he knew what he had to do. He'd known the minute Weasley had uttered the threat. And Weasley knew it too. Draco would be devastated, but he'd lived through that twenty years ago, even if he'd always known it couldn't last. He'd made his own bed, his own bad decisions, and that's what would have lead people to reject the idea of him and Potter together. On the other hand, Potter had always done the right thing, and still he'd been made to suffer. By Draco's own father, his cohorts and the madman they'd all worshipped. By the Ministry and the media and Draco himself. Not to mention Snape and even the barmy Dumbledore. Potter had walked to his own death at seventeen to save the fucking world. Draco would be damned if he was going to contribute to any more turmoil in the man's life. He'd get over Draco, like he'd done before. And, honestly, it had only been a few weeks that they'd got to know each other again, as adults. Nothing in the grand scheme of life. Potter would move on, find someone else.

Before he had a chance to talk himself out of it, Scorpius came home and they had to get ready for dinner at the Zabinis.

It had been the distraction Draco needed. Scorpius adored Blaise – his cool uncle – and Blaise doted on him in return. And Pansy was always good for some current gossip, so that usually made for an entertaining night. Scorpius spent the first while talking everyone's ears off about all the things he and Al were going to get up to when his friend came to stay, much to everyone's amusement. Then came presents.

Blaise gave Scorpius a marble wizard chess board and after their meal, the two of them went off to play a game, leaving Draco and Pansy to entertain themselves.

Pansy grabbed Draco by the arm and said, "Walk with me."

The two of them bundled up and went outside to wander the property. The temperature had risen and the snow was beginning to melt. As they passed by a neighbour's property, Draco saw the remains of a snowman, now faceless and drooping, and thought that it perfectly reflected how he felt.

"Out with it," Pansy said.

"Out with what?"

"Whatever it is that has you upset." He momentarily considered denying it, but with Pansy there was no point. He couldn't hide something from her unless he made a concerted effort, and today he just didn't have the energy. "Is it Potter?"

The fact that she guessed it on her first try didn't improve his mood. "Not exactly."

"Then tell me exactly what's got you down."

"It's rather a long story."

She squeezed his arm. "I do believe those boys will be playing for a while. We've got loads of time."

He sighed, not sure how much to tell her. "Fine. I'll start with the abridged version. Potter and I kissed. The weasel saw. He lost his shit."

She laughed. "Is that all? Merlin, Draco, you have lost your touch. The fact that a Weasley is pissed about something you did is hardly cause for brooding. You'll get wrinkles!"

"Well, it's a little bit more than that."

She took a deep breath, spread out her arms and exhaled. "It's a gorgeous night, I'm in the company of a gorgeous man, and he is about to spill his secrets to me. I can't think of a better way to spend my time."

"Fuck off."

Her smile fell. "Oh, honey." She once more looped her arm through his and squeezed. "I did tell you to be careful. You've always been vulnerable where Potter is concerned."

"Not helping."

She pouted. "Okay, give me all the details, then let me decide how I can best help."

He gave her the pertinent details, leaving out what had happened after the war. No sense in bringing that up. To her credit, she did not interrupt. She listened, frowned, pondered, and above all held onto him as they walked.

"So let me see if I've got this right. Weasley, the twat, has always had a stick up his arse where you're concerned. He was pissed that you started working on this case, but kept his distance whenever possible. He made a few backhanded remarks, but nothing earth-shattering. End of case, he's still pissed about you being there, but everyone else was good with it. He continues to glare at you every chance he gets, like the juvenile he is, but otherwise the assignment went well and it's now over.

"But you and Potter somehow … what? Get to know each other while surrounded by other people, working a case mainly in the lab where Potter doesn't work, and discussing mind-altering drugs? I'm not sure I see how that happened. Did you walk into his office and both instantly discover that your schoolboy crushes really were crushes?" She stopped walking and turned him to face her. "I think you're leaving out some details."

"Okay, fine. But don't read too much into this."

"Moi?"

He glared at her, but went on anyway. "Potter and I had a brief … thing after the war."

Her jaw dropped. "I knew it!"

He rolled his eyes. "This was after the trials, before I went away. It was intense but short-lived. We knew no one would accept the two of us together, and we decided to go our separate ways and live the lives everyone figured we were meant to."

She lapped it all up, eyes twinkling like the gossip-monger she was. "Star-crossed lovers!"

"For fuck's sake, Pansy, could you be serious? We were two horny teenagers who'd been through a war and decided to get our rocks off. Nothing more."

"And yet here we are."

He started walking again and she hustled to catch up, once again grabbing his arm. "Anyway, fast forward to my working at the Ministry. I don't know. I guess with both of us now single, seeing each other just …"

"Reignited old feelings?"

"I guess so. Feelings I'd convinced myself hadn't ever been there to begin with."

"Well, some of us weren't convinced."

"Again, not helping."

She pulled him to a stop. "I still don't understand. What did Weasley say to Potter? Surely he wouldn't let–"

"It's not what he said to Potter. It's what he said to me."

She waved that away. "Well, whatever it is, I hope you told him to fuck off."

If only. "I didn't really get the chance. He just showed up at my house–"

"Your house? How the hell did he know where you live?"

"Auror, remember?"

"Right. But still. He's got some nerve."

"You don't know the half of it." He started walking again and said, "He threatened to go to his sister, tell her to keep the kids away from Potter if he was with me." When she didn't answer, he looked at her. She was breathing in deeply through her nose, her eyes and mouth clenched shut, her wand hand spasming at her side. "Pansy, did you hear me?"

She stopped walking once more, still breathing deeply. "Give me a minute. I'm trying not to apparate directly into the bastard's house so I can hex him into next week."

"Wow. I didn't think something the weasel said would bother you this much."

"He's using children to get his way? Fucking over his supposed best friend for what? Because his tummy hurts at the thought of you two together? What the fuck is wrong with him?"

"Exactly what I thought."

"You can't let him get away with this. It's too much. I mean I know you've avoided him over the years, just in case, especially after he became Head Auror, but–"

"Pansy, it's okay. This thing between Potter and me? It's nothing. We've hardly spoken two words to each other in over twenty years. The past few weeks … while it might have held some promise, it didn't amount to anything more that kissing. Hardly something to risk a man's relationship with his children on. Weasley's right. Choosing between his kids and me? Of course I haven't a chance."

"But–"

"To be fair, if I were put in a situation where I'd have to choose between Scorpius and anyone else, Scorpius would win, hands down, every time."

She stomped her foot. "Argh! Of course he would. But that's not the point. Weasley's got no right. No right to fuck around with anyone else's life. And what does he care anyway?"

Draco was tired of this conversation. He'd already run everything through his head before coming here. "Look, Pansy, I love you. You know I do. And I know you mean well. And I appreciate you listening. But I can't – just can't – put Potter through anything else. He's done enough – hell, he did enough by the time he was seventeen – to make this a better place. I'm not going to be the cause of any more pain for the man."

"But you wouldn't be the cause."

He smiled sadly at his best friend. "But I could be the reason he never has to go through some prolonged and public custody battle. It's the least I could do for him."

"And what about you? What about your happiness?"

"I've had a good run, Pans, all things considered. Astoria and I loved each other in our own way and we had a great son. And I've got a pretty good life going. Even a couple of decent friends." He nudged her. She looked at him with sad eyes. "Just promise me something, Pansy."

"Anything."

"Promise me you won't go after Weasley. I don't want you to risk anything, tangling with the Head Auror. Not for me, not for anything."

"I can hold my own, you know." He gave her a withering glance. She huffed. "I do think you're worrying for nothing, but okay. I promise. I'll leave Weasley alone."

"Thanks."

"I still think you're making the wrong decision."

He turned them around and walked back towards the house. "I know you do."

Around noon the next day, the Potters arrived, covered in ash. Without thinking, Draco brushed Harry's shirt clean before stepping back and turning to Scorpius. "Why don't you show Albus around the house?" he suggested. The boys took off, leaving them alone.

Before he could say a word, Potter stepped in, took him in his arms and kissed him. A long, sensuous kiss that Draco melted into with no resistance whatsoever. God, he could lose himself in this man's arms. All thoughts of Weasley and his threats evaporated as he let himself be led away from all things not Potter.

He didn't know how long they'd stood there, drinking their fill of each other, promising more to come, when the sound of a herd of cattle broke through the haze of his brain. No, not cattle. Two teenage boys running down the stairs towards them. They reluctantly separated in time to avoid awkward questions. "Father, can we go to the pitch?"

Draco smiled. "Certainly, but make sure you bundle up."

"You have your own Quidditch pitch?" Potter asked.

"What other kind would I have?"

Potter grinned. "When the snow's gone, I'd like to see that for myself." Draco's heart ached. He doubted Potter would be around by the time the snow melted. "But for now, I have to get back. The rest of my brood are baking cookies." He leaned in and gave Draco a parting, chaste kiss. "See you in a couple of days. Call if Al gets to be too much."

"Yeah, yeah, Potter. I'll be fine. Go enjoy your cookies."

After he'd gone, Draco touched his fingers to his still-tingling lips, the taste of Potter taunting him, wondering how the hell he was ever going to be able to walk away from him. Again.

***

Cookies baked and clean-up complete, Harry sat down to a cup of tea and a book on true crime mysteries he'd got from Hermione when a tap came at his window. He opened it to let an unfamiliar owl enter. He cast a few spells – couldn't be too careful – and deemed the letter safe to open. He offered the owl a treat, but he stood his ground, apparently waiting for a reply. Harry opened the letter.

Potter,

I need to speak with you right away concerning Draco. He's fine, but it's important that we speak. I would have Floo-called, but yours is not publicly accessible (obviously). I won't take up much of your time, but I believe you'll find that I am not overstating the importance of the matter.

I'll await your return owl. I can come to your residence or you can come to mine, or if you'd prefer, we can meet somewhere else.

Sincerely,
Pansy Parkinson-Zabini

Intrigued, he looked at the owl. "So what does she want, eh?" The owl just stared back, giving nothing away. "Well, no point theorising." He picked up a quill and scribbled a response on the same page.

Parkinson,

I don't know what you need to speak with me about, but I can give you a few minutes. I'll open my Floo to you for the next two hours. Come through when you wish.

Curiously,
H Potter

He added a temporary access code to his Floo, added the details to the note and sent it off with her owl. Looking at his book, he sighed and put it aside, knowing he wouldn't be able to focus until after Parkinson had said her peace.

He didn't have long to wait. Ten minutes later, his Floo lit up and another Slytherin from his past walked through into his house.

"Hello, Parkinson."

"Zabini."

"Sure. Zabini. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" He waved his wand to ensure their conversation remained private. She stared at his wand, looking worried. "Privacy spell. My children are home."

"Right. Of course. Only the one is at Draco's."

He frowned, senses on alert. "How did you know that?"

She waved him off. "It was all Scorpius could talk about yesterday. When they were visiting."

"Ah." Harry relaxed. "Can I get you a cup of tea?"

"What?" She shifted from one foot to the other. "No. Thank you. I won't be long."

He motioned for her to sit and he resumed his own spot. "So what can I do for you?"

Her face reddened and she practically spit out, "You can put a leash on that Head Auror of yours!"

He sat up straight and glared at her. "Excuse me?" She blinked and fidgeted in her seat. "If you have a complaint to make about Ron or any other of my staff, I suggest you do so at the Ministry. I'm on holidays right now and I don't generally invite people to discuss work in my home."

"I don't think you want me to do that."

Harry was ready to throw her out when he remembered the note. "I thought you said this was about Draco."

"It is. I mean it's both."

"Go on."

She looked at him curiously. "Have you spoken to Draco today?"

"I have, when I dropped Al off."

"And he didn't say anything to you?"

This was sounding more like a fishing expedition than anything else. "Look, Parkinson – Zabini – I don't think whatever we discussed is any of your business. Please get to your point so I can get back to my book."

She looked confused but went on. "Okay, so I guess he hasn't said anything to you yet. Only last night he wasn't himself, and I called him on it. Seems your Head Auror paid him a visit and threatened him."

"He did what?"

"Look, I don't expect you to believe me. We didn't exactly part on the best of terms."

"You mean when you tried to hand me over to Voldemort?"

"Yes. Then." She looked appropriately uncomfortable. "Anyway, I don't expect you to believe me, so maybe you can ask Draco. I don't know all the details – obviously – but I think Draco is going to push you away."

"Excuse me?"

"Look, he told me that the two of you … well … that he's interested. And apparently Weasley knows too. And he wasn't too happy." She looked at him and he didn't see any sign that she might be lying. "And Draco made me promise not to lose my shit on Weasley. So here I am. Because I thought you should know."

He studied her, wondering what her angle was. What she was to gain from this. "And what do you expect me to do about it?"

"I don't expect you to do anything. But I think you'd want to know the truth. So maybe ask Draco. Or Weasley. Or don't. But don't be surprised when Draco walks away."

"I–"

"That's all I came to say. Do with this as you will." She got up and took some Floo powder from the mantel. "Draco's my best friend, and he's hurting right now. I couldn't sit by and do nothing. Bye, Potter."

And she was gone, leaving Harry to wonder what the fuck Ron had done.

He thought about what to do all night, and decided that talking to Ron about something he heard from Pansy Parkinson of all people was not the way to go. But he also couldn't wait until he picked up Al to talk to Draco. So when the rest of the kids went to visit Grandma Molly, he took a chance and Floo-called Draco's house.

"Potter? Is something wrong?"

"Can I come through?"

"Of course."

Harry exited the Floo and stared at Draco, looking for a sign that something was wrong. He sensed there might be something, but … "I had an interesting visitor last night."

"Did you now?"

Harry nodded. "Pansy Parkinson-Zabini."

"Fuck." Draco waved his wand and Harry knew the boys couldn't hear them.

"Imagine my surprise. And she had something interesting to tell me."

"Fuck," he said again. "I bet she did."

"So how about you give me your version of events?"

"Look, Potter, I can't do this right now. We're about to take a sleigh ride." He checked his watch. "In about ten minutes it will arrive."

Harry glanced around the room and saw what he was looking for. He grabbed the pensieve and held it out. "No need to discuss. How about you just show me?"

"I don't think you want–"

"I don't think you know what I want." He stared at the man he just yesterday held in his arms. "Do you have anything to hide?"

"No, but–"

"Then go ahead. I'll watch it; you don't have to."

"Potter. Harry. I don't think you want to see this."

"Perhaps not, but I think I need to."

With reluctance, Draco drew his wand and withdrew a silver strand and placed it in the pensieve. Just then, the boys came running into the room and Draco dropped the privacy spell.

"Dad? What are you doing here? Is something wrong?"

Harry smiled at his son. "No, Al, I just had to ask Mr Malfoy something."

"Are you coming on the sleigh ride too?" Scorpius asked.

Harry chuckled. "Not this time, but you boys have fun. I'll only be a few minutes and then I'll give you your father back."

"Okay. We'll wait outside so we can see when they get here."

"I'll be right out."

Draco reached for Harry's hand. "I really wish you wouldn't."

Harry took a deep breath and dove in. By the time he returned to the room, he was livid. Positively apoplectic with rage. And then he saw Draco's face, the worry etched into it, and relaxed. He glanced towards the door. "Are the boys outside?" Draco nodded. Harry reached out and took Draco's face in his hands and placed the softest of kisses on his lips. "Don't even give that conversation another thought. Ron has no power over me, over his sister or over my children. And he sure as hell will have no power over you if I have anything to say about it. Am I clear?"

Draco nodded. "Crystal."

Harry smiled. "Then go have a sleigh ride with our boys and I'll take care of that." He waved dismissively at the pensieve. "I plan to toast the new year and sing Auld Lang Syne with you soon." He kissed him once more. "And I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

"See you tomorrow."

Draco still looked worried, but there wasn't much else Harry could do about that right now. He had a Head Auror to see to. But first, an ex-wife.

Back home, he Floo-called Ginny and asked if she could come through to chat for a few minutes. When she arrived, she asked, "Everything okay with the kids?"

"Everything's fine. Al's at Scorpius' and they're about to go on a sleigh ride, and the rest of the brood is at your mum's to bring her some cookies they baked."

"So what's up?" She sat down on the sofa and pulled her knees up like she always did. It was strange to see her do that here, now.

Bringing himself back to the matter at hand, he said, "Your brother."

"Dare I ask which one?"

"Which one do you think?"

She rolled her eyes. "Ron. It's always Ron."

"Indeed. So here's the thing." He scratched the back of his neck, wondering how best to broach the topic.

She chuckled. "Just spit it out."

So he did. At least the abridged version. He explained how Draco had been working with them, how they'd solved the case, and how Harry had started having feelings for him. And then he'd kissed him and Ron had seen them. When her jaw dropped open and she stared at him, he said, "Ron isn't too pleased."

She snorted. "Understatement."

"Yeah, well, it gets worse."

"Do tell."

"Ron went to Draco's house to confront him."

"He didn't!"

"He did. And then threatened him." She frowned. "By using our kids."

Her feet dropped to the floor and she leaned forward. "He did what?"

"He told Draco that if he didn't walk away, he'd get you to keep our kids away from me."

"That fucking – How dare he!"

"Exactly my thought."

She looked around the room, at all the family pictures on the walls and mantel. "You know I'd never do something like that, right?"

"Of course I know. Which is what I told Draco. But still. I thought you should know."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "What are you going to do?"

He shrugged. "Haven't quite worked out the details yet."

"I'll leave you to it then." She stood up and walked around the room, looking at the remnants of their life together, picking up an item here and there, then placing it back down. "But I think you should fire him."

He should beat the shit out of him is what he should do. "I know I should. But we'll see what he has to say for himself."

"Kick his arse for me. Then I'll kick it again the next time I see him."

Harry laughed and crossed the room to give her a hug.

She tilted her head and considered him for a moment. "You know, I wondered, back in school. You were always so preoccupied with him."

"With Ron?"

"No. With Malfoy." She let that hang in the air, then said, "He sent me a letter, after the war. After the trials. Apologised on behalf of his father for what happened in second year. And for how his whole family had treated our family."

"He did?"

"Mm hmm. Didn't ask for forgiveness, just hoped I'd accept his apology and wanted me to know he wasn't his father. Wanted me to know that he knew what they'd done was wrong. I wrote back, said I appreciated his reaching out, and that was that. I never spoke to him again."

"I never knew."

She smirked. "Like I said, I wondered back in school. Didn't see the point in telling you anything nice about the guy. You'd already testified for him."

"I'm not sure I know what to say to that."

She shrugged. "Nothing to say. Water under the bridge. And by the way, I've heard nothing but great things about Scorpius, from Slughorn, Albus and the other kids. It's clear that Draco and his wife raised their son without all the prejudice both of them had been taught. That's got to count for something in my book."

"Yeah, he's a great kid."

"Not that you need approval from me or anything, but you could do worse." This entire conversation was way past the surreal stage now. And then she added, "He's pretty hot."

Harry laughed. "No comment."

She winked and grabbed a handful of Floo powder. "Bye, Harry."

"Bye, Gin."

Still not entirely sure how the night would play out, Harry Floo-called Ron. Hermione answered.

"Hey, Harry."

"Hi, Hermione. Listen, if it's not too much of an imposition, I was wondering if I could steal your husband to join me for a pint. It's been a while since we got together outside work and the kids are at Molly's for another couple of hours."

"Oh, that sounds nice. Come on through and I'll go get him. He's just fiddling with one of the gifts he got from Arthur."

Harry didn't like lying to Hermione, but he supposed he wasn't technically lying. He was going to take Ron to the pub. It's just that they were going to have more than a pint.

At the pub, Harry grabbed them both a pint while Ron got them a table. When he sat down with their drinks, he cast a privacy spell. Ron raised a brow but said nothing. They talked about Christmas and the upcoming New Year's party at Ginny's.

"You should come, mate. Gin wouldn't mind."

Harry took a sip. "Nah. We get on just fine, but we have different lives now. I think both of us get enough of each other at the Burrow. No need to push our luck. Besides, it's a bit weird for Pedro. He needs to feel at home in his own place, not have to deal with his wife's ex."

"I guess."

"So the reason I wanted to come out with you today is to talk about Draco."

Ron nearly choked on his beer. Harry had timed that comment for when he was taking a sip. Petty, maybe, but he didn't care. "What about him?"

"I understand you paid him a visit."

He looked uncomfortable now, his ears going pink. "What did he say about it?"

Harry shrugged and took another sip, nearly finishing it. "I'd like to hear your version, actually."

"I don't see what the big deal is."

"Don't you?" Harry waited for him to offer an explanation, but when he didn't, Harry leaned in and said, "I can see the headlines now: Head Auror caught in a scandal, blackmailing a member of the public, a renowned potions master who has contributed greatly to the reparations after the war, and who contributes to various charities throughout wizarding and muggle communities. THAT is what the big deal is."

His ears were now scarlet and his neck was getting there. "I didn't blackmail the ferret."

"Oh, really? Let's review. By definition, blackmail is the crime of demanding money or actions from someone by threatening to reveal damaging secrets, expose embarrassing information, or cause other harm unless their demands are met, often involving coercion and intimidation."

Harry let that sink in, saying no more. He leaned back in his chair and waited for Ron's explosion. It never came. He sat there, stone-faced and silent.

Harry finished his beer and got up to get a refill. "Stay here. We're not done."

He returned with two more pints. He placed Ron's in front of him and took a long pull of his own. "Right. You're on leave, effective immediately. I know you're on holidays now and scheduled to return after New Year's. Take another two weeks off after that. Think about things."

"You can't do that! This has nothing to do with work. You can't--"

Harry leaned forward, getting in Ron's personal space. Through clenched teeth, he said, "Don't tell me what I can and cannot do. You used your own sister, you used me, and you used my children – my children, your own niece and nephews – against a civilian. You have crossed so many lines, personal and professional, I can't even begin to count. Go on leave, Ron. Take vacation, leave without pay, I don't care, but I don't want to see your face, or any other part of you, anywhere near the office until at least January 18th."

"But–"

"But nothing, Ron. If you value your career, don't push me. I am offering you a chance to take some time off to think about things. Off the record. If you'd rather push back, I'll be forced to open an official investigation into your conduct." Ron's jaw dropped. "It won't work out well for you."

"And how is this not coercion or blackmail?"

"This isn't blackmail, Ron. It's repercussions for your own actions."

"But the ferret isn't supposed to suffer any repercussions for what he did to me? What he did to Katie? What his dad did to my sister?"

With as much patience as he could muster, Harry said, "What Draco did to you he did unintentionally, as a minor, under duress, under threat of death to himself and his parents. And he suffered repercussions. We've gone over this before. I'm not discussing it any further with you. As for your sister, it was, as you acknowledge, Lucius who did that, not Draco. And he died in Azkaban, where he'd rotted for years." Harry drank to that. "Oh, and speaking of your sister, have you talked to her about this?"

Ron's face reddened. "No, I haven't. I wasn't actually going to, you know."

"No, actually, I don't know. Seems there's a lot about what you do and say that I don't know. Nevertheless, I think you probably should talk to Gin about this. I have. And she had something interesting to tell me." Ron frowned. "Draco reached out to her years ago, after the war, to apologise. Did you know? Seems she's taken him at his word."

"She what?"

"Talk to her. And while you're at it, talk to your kids. Seems they think Scorpius is a pretty good kid. Not at all like his father when he was in school. Which begs the question: how could a man as horrible as you imagine Draco to be raise such a good kid? One that doesn't believe in pureblood superiority. Worth considering.

"Also, while you're at home, might I suggest you read up on Draco's accomplishments since the war. Talk to McGonagall – did you know he guest lectures at Hogwarts occasionally? Talk to your sister. Talk to your children. Talk to my children. Talk to Teddy and Andromeda and, when you're back, talk to the staff in the lab. Hell, talk to Drummond. They all paint a surprisingly different picture of Draco than you do. Perhaps it isn't everyone else that has the wrong measure of the man."

He removed a vial from his pocket containing some choice memories, memories he hadn't shared with anyone, memories as he'd seen through Voldemort's eyes, including some choice ones of Draco. He'd thought of this after watching Draco's memories earlier that day. Had considered throwing in a couple of his more personal memories, but didn't want to send Ron into complete cardiac arrest, no matter how livid he was. Besides, they were private. "And watch these for a snake's eye view of just a small portion of what Draco suffered during the war."

Ron's jaw clenched, but still he said nothing. He picked up his beer and drank the rest of it in one go, slammed his glass down on the table, then swiped the vial out of Harry's hand.

Harry, having said all he came to say, pushed the remains of his own beer to the side and stood up to go. "The law is on Draco's side, Ron. And he is choosing not to pursue it. Consider that during your time off."