![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sesheta66Title: Second Chance – Chapter Nine
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sesheta_66 || AO3: sesheta_66
Prompts used:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
slythindor100’s early bird prompt M – Wooden Reindeer Ornament (picture under the cut) and dracoharry100’s prompts 21: Tinsel and 23: Icicle lights
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 1.7K (this part)
Rating: R (eventually; this part PG)
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 theslythindor100 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 9
Draco woke after a fitful sleep, his mind on his upcoming meeting with Potter. Or, rather, his mind on twenty years ago, after the war, after the trials.
That day in Diagon Alley when Potter had swooped in and scared off that crowd. He'd been so angry at Potter, so embarrassed, and, truth be told, scared. Draco'd had a wand and could certainly have used it, but Potter had been right: there were too many people that wanted to see him locked up – Potter's best friend, for instance. So what does Weasley think of Potter calling him now? And was Draco expected to deal with him? Surely not. The oaf was Head Auror now. All sorts of scenarios had run through his mind as he tried to fall asleep. Was this a set-up? Was Weasley going to use the opportunity to fabricate something – or possibly reopen something – and get him thrown in prison?
Surely Potter wouldn't do that to him, not after testifying for him, and single-handedly ensuring Draco hadn't gone to Azkaban after the war. And not after …
So then Draco's mind jumped to the events after that confrontation in Diagon Alley. Potter had invited him to join him for lunch. He'd been taken by complete surprise, still shaking after being surrounded by those idiots, and he'd quietly followed. His first thought as they entered was that someone had vomited tinsel and icicle lights all over the place. Probably a good thing, since no one seemed to notice them enter together. Then once they'd sat down, Draco had fixated on a wooden reindeer ornament in the window of the pub, mulling over the events of the day, wondering how awkward this lunch was going to be. Then, much to his surprise – and he imagined Potter's surprise too – they'd had a pleasant time. Had spent close to two hours together without a single insult thrown by either of them. He couldn't recall all the details of their conversation, only that it had not been about the war or Voldemort or Dumbledore or Snape. Or, thank Merlin, Draco's father.
Potter had been accepted into the Auror program – of course he had – as had the weasel, and they were to start soon. They got to bypass their seventh year of school and enter directly after the war. Though Draco had been annoyed at the continuing special treatment Potter had been afforded, he couldn't argue that he'd earned it this time. As for the weasel, Draco had his doubts, but he supposed being Potter's sidekick had its perks. Apparently, though, Granger had opted to return to school.
Draco recalled leaving for home that day thinking that Potter wasn't so bad. Yes, the man had helped both Draco and his mother escape prison, but Draco had still maintained that he was, on the whole, a more-brave-than-smart poster boy for the Ministry. A lucky idiot who'd been propped up by Dumbledore and the ill-informed, fawning public, all eager to make the most of any opportunity to be even tangentially part of the Boy-Who-Lived-to-Make-Draco's-Life-Hell's camp. And while their lunch all those years ago hadn't wiped all that clean – a lifetime of holding a view about someone isn't so easily changed – he recalled having the feeling that he was just another bloke.
And that had been the beginning of the most surreal six-week period of Draco's life. They'd gone from literal enemies on the battlefield to … whatever the hell they'd become.
They'd always been far more than acquaintances, even from the start. Growing up in the wizarding world when Draco had, every child knew about Harry Potter; many like Draco had even heard fantasy tales about how he must be so powerful – how else could he have survived Voldemort's attack? – that he was sure to be the next Dark Lord. Then to have met the boy and had his offer of friendship, however obnoxiously presented, rebuffed in favour of the weasel, had set the course of their lives. In retrospect, Draco knew now that every stupid thing he'd done against Potter over the years had gone back to that moment. Yes, he'd idolised his father, as boys do, and had genuinely believed they'd been on the right side of things. Yes, the idea of being on the winning side, the powerful side, had been intoxicating. But with Potter specifically, everything had been personal. He'd needed to prove to Potter, at every opportunity, that he'd made the wrong choice back then.
Fast forward nearly eight years and, at long last, he'd been at a table with Potter. Just two blokes talking. Key had been the absence of the ever-present red-headed oaf. And they hadn't been, as had been their tradition, at each other's throats. Until, a couple of weeks into this newly established camaraderie, they had been. Quite literally. Only in an entirely different and more pleasant way.
Draco had clearly fallen into an alternate universe. True, he'd always been more inclined towards men than women, but Potter? Who'd have thought that was even possible? And even if you had thought it within the remotest of possibilities, the picture of Perfect Potter with Draco? Never. Not possible. And yet there they were.
He'd finally fallen asleep, remembering their time together, feeling the last twenty years of his life slip away and take him back in time.
He'd woken still thinking of Potter, trying his best to shake off those memories before walking into the Ministry of Magic to meet with the man about work, of all things.
After about six weeks, having kept their whatever it was a secret, they'd both come to their senses and moved on with their lives. It had been a wild ride, but the reality of the Chosen One with a former Death Eater, however minor in the ranks, would have bitten them both in the arse sooner or later, and after all they'd been through, neither of them had had the stomach for that. So, Harry and the weasel's younger sister got back together, Draco began to date Daphne Greengrass' younger sister, and eventually they each married the women they were meant to marry.
He and Astoria had grown to love each other, the kind of love borne out of respect, friendship and appreciation, if not passion. True, they'd had a perfectly acceptable physical relationship, and Draco had known what he'd been giving up when he'd decided to marry. She'd become his best friend, his partner in every sense of the word, and when she died, he'd found himself truly at a loss. They'd been in it together, for better or worse, and then he was alone. And at complete and utter loose ends.
He was 42 years old, single, and wholly uninterested in dating. He was a young man, certainly by wizarding standards, and he had more than half his life in front of him. Scorpius was in school, leaving him with work and not much else. He didn't go out socially, unless you counted visits to his mother at the manor or occasional dinners with friends. Narcissa had attempted to nudge him in the direction of eligible witches, but he was able to brush those suggestions aside. To her credit, she didn't push back, except to point out that his first marriage had turned out magnificently. He couldn't argue that point, but had maintained his stance. It was, after all, less than two years since she'd passed.
He needed time to get used to living by himself. Getting to know himself, not just as a husband and a father, but as a man. Something he'd not done in his youth. He'd gone from spoiled brat to entitled youth to petrified teen to married man, all without really considering what it was he'd wanted from life. Not to question his choices; after all, informed or not, he'd made those choices himself. And life had turned out alright. He'd had a wonderful marriage, if short, and he had a great son in Scorpius.
Why had he agreed to meet with Potter? What was he thinking? He couldn't work with Weasley; he wasn't even sure he could work with Potter. And he'd never wanted to work for the Ministry, had made damn sure he hadn't. Over the years, they had approached him on several occasions, but he'd always turned them down. He had no desire to even enter the building again.
But then Potter happened. After all these years, how was it that the man could get under Draco's skin with just one owl and a well placed request for a "personal favour"? Draco was quickly working himself into a state. He reasoned that Potter would not, in fact, do something like set Draco up for a fall. Weasley, on the other hand, wouldn't hesitate. Draco was sure of it. He hadn't done anything overt over the years, but any time Draco had run into the man – thankfully not often – he'd made snide remarks, given Draco dirty looks, and back when Scorpius had first started Hogwarts, he'd even tried to turn his daughter against Scorpius. Allegedly.
It must have come as a shock to the weasel and his sister when her son had befriended Scorpius. More than that, the two were inseparable. That petty little part of Draco that still resided deep within him did appreciate that. He wondered how Potter felt about it. Scorpius hadn't said anything, so as far as Draco knew, it was only Albus' uncle who had a problem with Scorpius. But now that he thought about it, he hadn't heard back about Albus coming to stay over the holidays. Perhaps his parents didn't want him to.
Draco tried to calm his thoughts over a cup of Earl Grey but it didn't have its usual effect. Resigned to his fate, he left for the Ministry in what he would describe as not the best frame of mind. All he needed now was to run into the weasel on his way to Potter's office.
Author:
sesheta_66 || AO3: sesheta_66Prompts used:
slythindor100’s early bird prompt M – Wooden Reindeer Ornament (picture under the cut) and dracoharry100’s prompts 21: Tinsel and 23: Icicle lightsPairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 1.7K (this part)
Rating: R (eventually; this part PG)
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
Draco woke after a fitful sleep, his mind on his upcoming meeting with Potter. Or, rather, his mind on twenty years ago, after the war, after the trials.
That day in Diagon Alley when Potter had swooped in and scared off that crowd. He'd been so angry at Potter, so embarrassed, and, truth be told, scared. Draco'd had a wand and could certainly have used it, but Potter had been right: there were too many people that wanted to see him locked up – Potter's best friend, for instance. So what does Weasley think of Potter calling him now? And was Draco expected to deal with him? Surely not. The oaf was Head Auror now. All sorts of scenarios had run through his mind as he tried to fall asleep. Was this a set-up? Was Weasley going to use the opportunity to fabricate something – or possibly reopen something – and get him thrown in prison?
Surely Potter wouldn't do that to him, not after testifying for him, and single-handedly ensuring Draco hadn't gone to Azkaban after the war. And not after …
So then Draco's mind jumped to the events after that confrontation in Diagon Alley. Potter had invited him to join him for lunch. He'd been taken by complete surprise, still shaking after being surrounded by those idiots, and he'd quietly followed. His first thought as they entered was that someone had vomited tinsel and icicle lights all over the place. Probably a good thing, since no one seemed to notice them enter together. Then once they'd sat down, Draco had fixated on a wooden reindeer ornament in the window of the pub, mulling over the events of the day, wondering how awkward this lunch was going to be. Then, much to his surprise – and he imagined Potter's surprise too – they'd had a pleasant time. Had spent close to two hours together without a single insult thrown by either of them. He couldn't recall all the details of their conversation, only that it had not been about the war or Voldemort or Dumbledore or Snape. Or, thank Merlin, Draco's father.
Potter had been accepted into the Auror program – of course he had – as had the weasel, and they were to start soon. They got to bypass their seventh year of school and enter directly after the war. Though Draco had been annoyed at the continuing special treatment Potter had been afforded, he couldn't argue that he'd earned it this time. As for the weasel, Draco had his doubts, but he supposed being Potter's sidekick had its perks. Apparently, though, Granger had opted to return to school.
Draco recalled leaving for home that day thinking that Potter wasn't so bad. Yes, the man had helped both Draco and his mother escape prison, but Draco had still maintained that he was, on the whole, a more-brave-than-smart poster boy for the Ministry. A lucky idiot who'd been propped up by Dumbledore and the ill-informed, fawning public, all eager to make the most of any opportunity to be even tangentially part of the Boy-Who-Lived-to-Make-Draco's-Life-Hell's camp. And while their lunch all those years ago hadn't wiped all that clean – a lifetime of holding a view about someone isn't so easily changed – he recalled having the feeling that he was just another bloke.
And that had been the beginning of the most surreal six-week period of Draco's life. They'd gone from literal enemies on the battlefield to … whatever the hell they'd become.
They'd always been far more than acquaintances, even from the start. Growing up in the wizarding world when Draco had, every child knew about Harry Potter; many like Draco had even heard fantasy tales about how he must be so powerful – how else could he have survived Voldemort's attack? – that he was sure to be the next Dark Lord. Then to have met the boy and had his offer of friendship, however obnoxiously presented, rebuffed in favour of the weasel, had set the course of their lives. In retrospect, Draco knew now that every stupid thing he'd done against Potter over the years had gone back to that moment. Yes, he'd idolised his father, as boys do, and had genuinely believed they'd been on the right side of things. Yes, the idea of being on the winning side, the powerful side, had been intoxicating. But with Potter specifically, everything had been personal. He'd needed to prove to Potter, at every opportunity, that he'd made the wrong choice back then.
Fast forward nearly eight years and, at long last, he'd been at a table with Potter. Just two blokes talking. Key had been the absence of the ever-present red-headed oaf. And they hadn't been, as had been their tradition, at each other's throats. Until, a couple of weeks into this newly established camaraderie, they had been. Quite literally. Only in an entirely different and more pleasant way.
Draco had clearly fallen into an alternate universe. True, he'd always been more inclined towards men than women, but Potter? Who'd have thought that was even possible? And even if you had thought it within the remotest of possibilities, the picture of Perfect Potter with Draco? Never. Not possible. And yet there they were.
He'd finally fallen asleep, remembering their time together, feeling the last twenty years of his life slip away and take him back in time.
He'd woken still thinking of Potter, trying his best to shake off those memories before walking into the Ministry of Magic to meet with the man about work, of all things.
After about six weeks, having kept their whatever it was a secret, they'd both come to their senses and moved on with their lives. It had been a wild ride, but the reality of the Chosen One with a former Death Eater, however minor in the ranks, would have bitten them both in the arse sooner or later, and after all they'd been through, neither of them had had the stomach for that. So, Harry and the weasel's younger sister got back together, Draco began to date Daphne Greengrass' younger sister, and eventually they each married the women they were meant to marry.
He and Astoria had grown to love each other, the kind of love borne out of respect, friendship and appreciation, if not passion. True, they'd had a perfectly acceptable physical relationship, and Draco had known what he'd been giving up when he'd decided to marry. She'd become his best friend, his partner in every sense of the word, and when she died, he'd found himself truly at a loss. They'd been in it together, for better or worse, and then he was alone. And at complete and utter loose ends.
He was 42 years old, single, and wholly uninterested in dating. He was a young man, certainly by wizarding standards, and he had more than half his life in front of him. Scorpius was in school, leaving him with work and not much else. He didn't go out socially, unless you counted visits to his mother at the manor or occasional dinners with friends. Narcissa had attempted to nudge him in the direction of eligible witches, but he was able to brush those suggestions aside. To her credit, she didn't push back, except to point out that his first marriage had turned out magnificently. He couldn't argue that point, but had maintained his stance. It was, after all, less than two years since she'd passed.
He needed time to get used to living by himself. Getting to know himself, not just as a husband and a father, but as a man. Something he'd not done in his youth. He'd gone from spoiled brat to entitled youth to petrified teen to married man, all without really considering what it was he'd wanted from life. Not to question his choices; after all, informed or not, he'd made those choices himself. And life had turned out alright. He'd had a wonderful marriage, if short, and he had a great son in Scorpius.
Why had he agreed to meet with Potter? What was he thinking? He couldn't work with Weasley; he wasn't even sure he could work with Potter. And he'd never wanted to work for the Ministry, had made damn sure he hadn't. Over the years, they had approached him on several occasions, but he'd always turned them down. He had no desire to even enter the building again.
But then Potter happened. After all these years, how was it that the man could get under Draco's skin with just one owl and a well placed request for a "personal favour"? Draco was quickly working himself into a state. He reasoned that Potter would not, in fact, do something like set Draco up for a fall. Weasley, on the other hand, wouldn't hesitate. Draco was sure of it. He hadn't done anything overt over the years, but any time Draco had run into the man – thankfully not often – he'd made snide remarks, given Draco dirty looks, and back when Scorpius had first started Hogwarts, he'd even tried to turn his daughter against Scorpius. Allegedly.
It must have come as a shock to the weasel and his sister when her son had befriended Scorpius. More than that, the two were inseparable. That petty little part of Draco that still resided deep within him did appreciate that. He wondered how Potter felt about it. Scorpius hadn't said anything, so as far as Draco knew, it was only Albus' uncle who had a problem with Scorpius. But now that he thought about it, he hadn't heard back about Albus coming to stay over the holidays. Perhaps his parents didn't want him to.
Draco tried to calm his thoughts over a cup of Earl Grey but it didn't have its usual effect. Resigned to his fate, he left for the Ministry in what he would describe as not the best frame of mind. All he needed now was to run into the weasel on his way to Potter's office.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2025-12-19 04:03 am (UTC)Hmpf
no subject
Date: 2025-12-22 04:01 am (UTC)