sesheta66 | Second Chance (2025 Christmas Story)

Title: Second Chance – Epilogue
Author:

sesheta_66 || AO3: sesheta_66
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 5.1K (this part); total 65.3K
Rating: R
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

Second Chance – Epilogue

It turned out Ronald Weasley did not have a good New Year's Eve. In fact, he didn't have a good January at all.

It started even before that, when Hermione arrived from Harry's place. Perhaps it hadn't been such a good idea for Ron to tell her. First, that Harry had suspended him, and second – probably more importantly – to go ask him what it was about. Turns out, Hermione sided with Harry.

"What the hell were you thinking, Ronald?"

"Huh?"

She put up a privacy spell so young ears wouldn't hear. "I just came from Harry's where we had a cup of tea and a chat." She stood, hands on hips, glaring at him. "Care to venture a guess about what?"

"He was out of line, Hermione."

"He was out of line? In what universe is Harry the one in the wrong here?"

Ron gaped at his wife. Surely she didn't … "It was personal, not business. He had no right to suspend me."

"Honestly!" She stomped to the counter, pulled out a mug, and boiled some water. "He had every right to fire you!"

"What?"

She spun around and stomped over to him, poking her finger in his chest. "You broke. The. Law." She poked him to emphasise each word.

"I didn't!"

"You did. You tried to blackmail Draco into leaving Harry. Blackmail, Ronald. That's against the law."

He threw his hands up in the air. "Says Harry."

"Says the law." She stomped back to the counter and made her tea, left it to steep and stormed back over. "And in case it's escaped your notice, your job is to uphold the law. That means it's worse for you than for any regular citizen. You've breached the public trust as well."

Ron just stood there, staring at Hermione, having trouble processing what she was saying. Sure, Harry had said something similar, but that's just because it was Malfoy.

"Harry has done you a favour, only suspending you. And doing it off the books. No one else need ever know this happened. Which I would ordinarily have a huge problem with – it reeks of favouritism and corruption – but …"

"Hold on a minute! There's no corruption going on here. I was just helping a friend."

She barked out a laugh. "Helping? You think this is helping Harry?"

"Well … yeah."

"Argh!" She went back to the counter, added milk to her tea, then sat at the table, holding her mug with slightly shaking hands. Shit. She must really be mad. "First of all, sit down." She waited for him to sit and took a long breath. "Now, Harry is a grown man. He – and only he – gets to decide what choices he makes. Right or wrong, they're his choices to make, not yours."

"Yeah, but it's Malfoy"

"It doesn't matter. I daresay you would not be impressed if someone tried to pick your partner for you."

"Yeah, well, everybody loves you."

She didn't smile as he'd hoped. "Ronald, you don't get to choose for other people, no matter whom they decide to be with. If it's a mistake, it's your job as their friend to help them get through things if it all comes crashing down. It is not your job to interfere. Be there as a friend if and when Harry needs you, but otherwise stay out of it."

"But it's Malfoy."

"I don't care who it is!" She slammed her hand down on the table, making Ron jump.

"Stupid ferret."

She gulped some tea, nostrils flaring, then put her mug down on the table. "Your opinion doesn't matter, do you hear me? It doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is that Harry is happy. And if it's with Malfoy – yes, Draco Malfoy – then that's the way it is. And by the way, he isn't the boy we went to school with any more. You do realise that? He's an accomplished potions master, a stand-up member of the community, and a guess professor at two schools. And from all I've heard, he is an excellent father and was a good husband. He's not stepped a toe out of line since the war, and in case you've forgotten, he helped Harry even back then.

"Only to save his own arse."

"Oh, really? You think lying to his father and his aunt, dedicated followers of Voldemort, was in his own best interest?"

"Well–"

"The best you can say on that front is that he'd thought Harry was his best chance of escaping the hell his father had created for him and his mother. But that still came with risk. And it meant that even then he had faith in Harry's ability to defeat Voldemort. That's saying a lot based on his upbringing."

"I–" He'd never thought of it that way before.

"And the other way to look at it is that he looked Harry in the face and just couldn't imagine handing him over to Voldemort. For all of their petty and not so petty disagreements in school, he couldn't be the one to cause Harry's death."

"I–" Damn it, why was she making him sound better than Ron knew him to be?

"Personally, I think it was a bit of both. Which would mean that not only did he not want harm to come to Harry, but he looked up to him with hope for the future. And for someone who was raised – or rather, indoctrinated – into thinking that Harry's entire belief system and support network was wrong, and in fact harmful to the wizarding cause, that's saying one hell of a lot."

"Fucking hell, Hermione. He tried to kill me."

She let out a long-suffering sigh. "No he did not, Ronald."

"And what about Katie?"

"We've been through this before. Harry has told you this. Draco only ever tried to harm Dumbledore." Ron tried to comment, but she held up a hand to stop him. "Now, I'm not excusing what he did, but I am trying to give you context. He was sixteen years old, his father – the man he looked up to his entire life – had just been broken out of prison and was in utter disgrace. Voldemort had made no secret of ridiculing and tormenting the man. You saw him at the end, he was a shell of the man he'd been before. And yet Voldemort was living in their home, conducting his business under their roof, torturing and killing people in front of Draco. And then he threatened Draco and his parents with death if Draco couldn't perform an impossible task – which was so obviously a punishment for Lucius. Draco would have had no doubt in his mind that Voldemort would follow through.

"So, imagine yourself in that situation. Your mother, your father, and you under threat of death unless you killed someone. And that someone happens to be the man most responsible for the fact that wizards had to live in hiding, in secret, removed from society. Because that's what Draco had been told, had been taught. If Draco killed the one man who was destroying their way of life, he could save his parents. That, Ronald, is what Draco was trying to do: save his parents. He wasn't a killer, so he grasped desperately for some way to succeed without having to face what he was doing, even though he'd been taught to believe Dumbledore was their enemy. And not just their enemy, but the enemy of wizarding kind.

"You and Katie got caught up in that. There's no denying that you were both hurt in the process, but in no way can that accurately be called a deliberate attempt on either of your lives. Dumbledore knew that and he tried to protect Draco. He even had Snape do the deed for Draco, so he remained free of the guilt of murder."

Ron had heard this all before but had never really listened. Wasn't ready to listen, he supposed. Didn't have a compelling reason to try. After all, who was Malfoy in the grand scheme of things? Just some spoiled brat whose father had tried to humiliate Ron's father every chance he could get. Flaunting his money and status at every opportunity.

Sure, Harry had chosen his friendship with Ron over an alliance with the ferret – that had felt good, seeing the smarmy git's face when Harry had refused his hand. But then Harry had got more and more preoccupied with him in school. And in sixth year? Even when he and Ginny had started going out, Harry had stalked the ferret, had become obsessed with him. Harry had said he was just trying to catch him at whatever he'd been up do, but Ron remembered those days. It was always Malfoy this and Malfoy that. Like there was something brewing there, even then, under the surface.

And now they were what? Together? Like together, together? Ron shuddered. He didn't have a problem with Harry being with another wizard. He'd given it some thought, and it really didn't bother him. Just … why Malfoy?

"But all this is beside the point," Hermione said, bringing his focus back. "The point is that you – as Head Auror – cannot blackmail or even intimidate a member of the public for wanting to date your friend. And you – as Harry's best friend – have no business telling him who he can or cannot date."

Ron nodded. "I hear you."

"Do you, Ronald? Do you really?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"I certainly hope so."

That done, Ron had thought he'd be left to his own thoughts on the matter. But it wasn't to be. Because he had to go to his sister's for New Year's Eve. And Harry had spoken to Ginny. And Ron knew he was going to get an earful.

He'd got more than that.

Gin had taken it upon herself to tell the whole family what Ron had done. Not Percy because, in her words, he'd have arrested Ron himself, thrown him into Azkaban and sold the story to the highest bidder. But everyone else knew.

"Ronald, we need to talk," his mother had said, very calmly, when they first arrived. Never a good sign. He'd much rather deal with a howler than a calm Molly. "But this is not the time or the place – everyone around, you know. Come over for lunch tomorrow and we'll chat over a meal." She smiled at Hermione then looked back at Ron. "Just you, dear." Fuck. No buffer. Not that, after their conversation the day before, Ron thought Hermione would be of much help, but still.

George had pulled him aside shortly after that. "Not cool, man. Not cool at all."

"I know, but the ferret …"

"You know, for someone who moaned about Harry being obsessed with the guy in school, it looks to me like you're the one obsessed now. Just let it go. Move on. It's been over twenty years now."

"I know, but now Harry wants to … wants to … fucking hell, I can't even say it."

George laughed at his discomfort. "For the record, I don't give a shit if you want to tell Malfoy to back off, and, let's be honest, it would be hypocritical for me to tell you not to use your position at the Ministry, but you used Gin and Harry's kids, mate. That's low."

"I wouldn't have–"

"Doesn't matter. You had no business. Malfoy can handle himself. Same with Gin and Harry. But using kids is crossing a line. And the fact that those kids are family is even worse. I don't know where you go from here. And I don't know if their parents will ever forgive you."

Ron thought he might be sick. He'd only tried to help Harry. He wasn't trying to hurt anyone, except maybe Malfoy. He didn't give a shit about Malfoy. But he'd never … Gin and Harry had to know that he'd never …

George hadn't said anything else to him – that had been plenty, thanks very much – but Ron had come across a rather alarming number of trick food items over the course of the evening. So much so that, following twenty minutes in the loo after he'd consumed a particularly strong puking pastille (disguised as a caramel chocolate), he'd stopped eating altogether.

Fleur cornered him later. "But I thought 'arry was your friend? Zat is not ze way to treat a friend. You let zem choose, zen 'elp to get revenge if the person 'urts zem. You do not get in ze way of love." He almost choked on the word 'love' but couldn't help remembering how his mother had not been accepting of Fleur back in the day, and yet now she was family, accepted by all.

Bill had shaken his head disapprovingly. "Wow. The absolute nerve of you. Just wow. Very disappointing. If I weren't firmly convinced that Ginny could handle herself, I'd have more than a few words for you. But remember this: Harry's your brother. He has the right to move on with his life."

That was a punch to the gut. Bill was the cool older brother, the coolest of the lot of them – even cooler than Charlie and his dragons. Ron hated to see that disappointment in his eyes.

It was at the end of the night, as he, Hermione and the kids were getting ready to leave, that Ginny asked him to stay. "I just want to have a chat with my brother," she told them. Hermione, now firmly on everyone else's side, wished her a Happy New Year and left with the kids.

"Let's walk."

They bundled up and went outside. Wanting to head her off at the pass, Ron said, "Gin, I'm sorry."

"Hmm," she said, hands in her pockets, looking up at the night sky. "Are you, though?"

"Of course."

"I'm not so sure." She stopped walking and turned to face him, fierce brown eyes boring into his. "For what, exactly, are you sorry?"

He thought about what everyone else had already said to him. "For using my position, for using you and Harry and the kids – even though I wasn't actually planning on doing what I'd said to Malfoy – for all of it."

"Huh." She turned from him and resumed walking. After a time, she asked, "Did you give a moment's thought about what you did and how it would affect me or the kids?"

"Er …"

"I didn't think so. See, I've had a few days to think about this and yes, I'm angry that you brought up my children in an effort to intimidate someone, but it's more than that."

He knew he might regret asking, but he said, "How so?"

"Let's see. You went behind my back and told someone that I was essentially at your beck and call. That I would use my own children against their father to advance your agenda, whatever the hell that agenda was." Once more she stopped and turned to face him. Tilting her head, she said, "Doesn't paint a very nice picture of me, does it?"

"I–"

"Fast forward and, had I done your bidding – which of course would never fucking happen – or had Malfoy gone public, what do you think would have come out in court? Better yet, in the media? That I helped my brother intimidate a citizen by threatening to keep my own children from their father? Oh, and their father just happens to be the fucking Chosen One who saved the fucking world at seventeen." She laughed. "And also the head of Magical Law Enforcement who has spent his whole life serving the public. Yeah, that would go over well." She turned back around and walked away from him. When he caught up, she said, "How do you think my kids would feel if they read about that in the paper?"

Fuck, fuck, fuck. "I didn't–" He didn't … what? Didn't mean it? Didn't think about it? Of course he hadn't thought about it. That was kind of his thing, acting without thinking. "I wouldn't–" The fact that he wouldn't have actually done anything about it might not have mattered, if Malfoy had gone to someone like Skeeter. "I–"

"Spare me, Ron. You fucked up, royally. Like you've done time and time again. Only this time you dragged me and Harry and our kids into your shit show." Abruptly, she did a one-eighty and headed back towards her house. "You are so fucking lucky that Malfoy is the bigger man here, Ron. Because I can't even imagine what I would do to you if he went to the papers with this. Which, by the way, if he were half as bad as you seem to think he is, he most certainly would have done. Because rest assured, Rita Skeeter and her vile kind don't give a shit what they do to kids; they'll print anything, consequences be damned. Think about that while you're off." She stopped to face him once more. "I thought more of you. Now I can't even look at you." And she hurried off towards home, leaving him standing there in the cold.

The next day was no better. Hermione would not hear of him getting out of a visit with his parents, so off he went to the Burrow to be raked over some more coals.

After ensuring he'd had enough to eat – Molly would always be his mother first – she asked Arthur to give them a few minutes alone and got down to business.

"I was so very upset to hear what happened. You do know that poor Harry never had choices as a child. First, Voldemort took away his parents, then Dumbledore whisked him out of the wizarding world to live with those horrible relatives of his. The way they treated him! Then when he comes back he has the entire wizarding community telling him what to think, where to go, what to do. Dumbledore grooming him to die for the cause – gives me shudders just thinking about it.

"And he just did it. Everything everyone ever asked of him. And now here you are trying to take his choices away as an adult. After all he's done for you and this family, not to mention, well, the world. Fine way to repay that and a piss poor way to treat a friend."

He had nothing to say to that.

When his dad returned, he patted Ron on the shoulder. "Come with me." They went out to the shed where he had a now life-sized Volkswagen Beetle sitting in the place formerly occupied by the Ford Anglia. Something else Harry had done for his family. Fuck

"Bit of a turn you took, eh?" Arthur said.

"Yeah."

"Why do you think you did all this?"

He shrugged. "Thought I was helping Harry."

"Really? By doing what? Making his decisions for him?"

"I don't know. It's just … well, it's Malfoy."

"Ah." His dad began tinkering with the car. "So do you think it maybe has a lot more to do with you than Harry?"

"How do you figure?"

"I must admit, Draco's father and I … well, we didn't set a great example on how to get along."

Ron gaped at his father. "You're joking! Lucius Malfoy took every opportunity to degrade you, belittle you."

"But so long as I didn't let it affect me, he had no power over me."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, Ron, that we can't control what other people say or do, only our own reaction to it. There's a reason forgiveness is said to be sublime."

"I can't forgive Malfoy."

He shrugged. "That's entirely up to you. But forgiveness isn't a gift to the other person, it's for ourselves. It allows us to move on with our lives. To not allow negativity and anger to fester and poison us from within, destroying our own moral compass." He stopped tinkering and looked Ron in the eyes. "It can make us do things that we wouldn't dream of doing otherwise, turning us into someone we barely recognise ourselves."

When he got home, head throbbing, Ron had a letter waiting from Charlie. Well, he thought, might as well get it over with. The letter was succinct and straight to the point.

Ron,

Gin told me what happened. I reckon everyone else will tell you in great detail how you fucked up, which you did. Here's all I have to say on the matter: it's up to you to make things right.

Charlie.

"So what did Charlie have to say?" Hermione asked when she saw him toss the letter into the fire.

"That I need to make things right."

She sat down on the sofa and wrapped her arms around him. "And how do you propose to do that?"

"Dunno." He shrugged. "Maybe I should quit the Ministry, go work with George. He's been asking for years."

"Is that what you want?"

"I'm not sure I have much choice."

She released him and took hold of his hands. "If you do it because you want to, I'll support you. If you do it because you have to, I'll also support you. But if you decide to leave so you don’t have to face Harry, I'll have something to say about that."

He groaned. He couldn't even catch a break when he was trying to do the right thing. "But what if Harry doesn't want to see me?"

"Then that's up to him. But you can't run away from what you've done. Face it, take the consequences, and then figure out where you go from there."

He nodded. "You're right."

She hugged him again. "Of course I am."

***

A week into January, Harry gave Draco an update on the drug case. "The team managed to break the code to his journal. Turns out the kid was bullied relentlessly during his one year at Hogwarts. None of the professors saw anything."

Draco thought about his time at Hogwarts and all the things the professors didn't know were happening. "No surprise there."

Harry snorted. "Too true. Anyway, he'd never really interacted with other kids before, so he didn't know how to handle it. So he just internalised everything and let it fester. Channelled all that energy towards his work and the anger towards future retribution."

"Sounds about right."

"That's pretty callous."

"Not callous, just realistic. Push people often enough and prevent them pushing back, one day they'll explode. Just stands to reason. Like building up pressure inside a bottle."

"I suppose." Harry ran his hands along Draco's shoulders and massaged the muscles. "Turns out you were right about the latest version too."

"Naturally." He grinned, leaned back and accepted the kiss Harry offered. "To be clear, how precisely was I right?"

"He'd used the first batches as a test run. He wasn't out to make money, or at least that wasn't the main purpose. He released them to create demand. The casualties hadn't been his goal. The next version, however, had been intended to kill."

"Shit."

"Indeed. But thanks to the efforts of all involved, including a world-renowned potions master, we managed to get to him before his poison reached the market."

Draco imagined the damage that could have been done with just the quantity they'd confiscated. Who knew how much he'd have produced before releasing it. "Do you have a court date?"

"First appearance next week, but with all we have, we're confident he'll remain in prison until the trial begins. That won't likely happen before February or March at the earliest."

"Let me know when you'll need me to testify."

Harry nodded and started towards the kitchen. "Going to make some tea. Want some?"

Draco laughed. "Shouldn't I be offering you tea? It is my house, after all."

Harry peaked his nose back around the corner. "I'm an Auror. I can do all sorts of things!"

"Mm. Don't I know it?"

A minute later, when Harry was busy in the kitchen, Draco's Floo lit up and one of the last people Draco wanted to see appeared in his fire. "Malfoy, can we talk?"

Draco glared at the head of Ron Weasley. "You shouldn't be here."

"I know, but I wanted to talk."

"No, really, Weasley, you should not be here."

"Look, I know I fucked up. I'll leave my wand on the table and I promise you I won't do anything to–"

"Did I hear a voice?" Harry stopped dead in his tracks as he entered the room and saw Ron's face. "What the fuck, Ron?"

"Harry!"

"I warned you, Weasley."

"You are already on leave, Ron. What do you think you're doing? Are you asking to be fired?"

"No, no, you've got it all wrong!"

"The hell I do." Draco held out an arm to hold back Harry, who was marching towards the fire, wand out.

"I just wanted to – oh, hell, I was going to apologise."

"What?" Draco and Harry said at the same time.

"I fucked up and wanted to tell you so," he said to Draco. "And I was going to talk to you when I went back to work," he told Harry. "Figured you didn't want to see me before then."

"Got that right," Harry said.

"Look, can I come through, say what I have to say, and then leave?"

Harry looked at Draco. "You don't have to let him in here. Ever." He turned to Ron. "You shouldn't be here."

"I know, I know. But I promise you I didn't plan to say or do anything but apologise."

Draco patted Harry on the chest. "It's okay. Maybe make a pot?" Harry looked at him incredulously. "It's only polite."

Harry rolled his eyes, threw his hands up in the air and stormed out of the room. Draco looked at Weasley's head, still hovering, still waiting. "Well, get on with it. No telling how long he'll be able to keep a lid on his temper."

Weasley stepped through and, true to his word, placed his wand on the side table and sat down. "This is gonna be hard, so if you could just let me get it all out at once, it should make things go faster and then I'll get out of your hair." Draco nodded, not sure what to expect. Weasley took a deep breath, stared at the floor for a moment, then faced Draco. "Look, Malfoy, I was out of line. Way out of line. I let what happened years ago affect my judgement. I knew what happened then, but I couldn't let go of our past enough to really understand what happened.

"I was pissed at Harry for standing up for you, really pissed. I couldn't believe he testified for you in court. I guess I thought that he was siding with you against me. He told me what you went through, but I didn't listen, couldn't hear anything that would excuse anything you did." Draco was about to interject when Ron held up a hand. "Not that it should matter to you, but there it is. Anyway, I never really got over that, just shoved it down and never thought about it again. Not really. Then fast forward twenty years and there you are. In my world. I thought I was rid of you, but then there you were.

"I didn't like it, not gonna lie, but Harry made it clear that you were going to be working on the case and I needed to deal with it." He looked down, flexing his hands in what looked like an attempt to maintain his composure. "It was like the court case all over again. Harry was siding with you against me." He held his hand up before Draco even tried to say anything. "I know, I know, it was never about me. I see that now. But I didn’t then. So when the case was over, I thought great, everything would go back to normal. Except you were still there. Fucking everywhere. Then I saw the two of you and I lost it."

"You know it's still not about you."

"Yeah, I know." He shrugged. "But what can I say? Old habits die hard. Anyway, I used my position at the Ministry to get access to you, then used my position as Harry's friend and Ginny's brother to get to you, and cocked everything up in the process." He looked down at the floor, presumably unable to maintain eye contact. "I never intended to go to my sister, to manipulate her into lashing out at Harry. I'd never do that to my niece and nephews. Or Harry or Ginny." He looked up then. "I guess I just saw it as my only leverage against you and I acted on it without thinking."

Draco couldn't resist. "Seems you have a habit of doing that."

Weasley's ears went red but he chuckled. "Don't I know it. Anyway, I do mean it when I say I'm sorry. It won't happen again. It never should have happened in the first place. What you choose to do is up to you, but please, whatever you do, don't take it out on Harry or Ginny. Or, Merlin forbid, their kids."

Draco scowled. "Why would I do something like that? And how could I?"

Weasley shrugged. "I've been informed by more than one person that you could file charges and/or go to the media. But I ask that you don't. Not for me – though I acknowledge I would benefit – but for the kids. Especially for the kids."

"Weasley, you really are an arse. I would never do anything to hurt a child. Certainly not my own or Harry's. I won't pretend that all is forgiven, or that we will ever be friends, but I do acknowledge that my actions as a child affected you and your family. You may recall I reached out to you to apologise for that?"

He nodded. "Like I said, I wasn't ready to listen then."

"I refuse to pay for my actions as a minor for the rest of my life, but I have tried to contribute in a positive way since then." Another nod. Draco returned the gesture. "Right. I do hope we can move on from this."

Weasley smiled. "Okay, then. That's all I can ask. Thanks for listening, and tell Harry I'll see him back at work."

"I will." And he was gone.

"Did you hear all that?" Draco called out.

"Of course I did." Harry entered the room carrying two mugs, not three.

"And?"

"It's a start."