When his doorbell rang later that night, Draco considered not answering, but if he didn't, word would get around town quickly enough that he hadn't been under his own roof at eleven o'clock at night. Knowing the grapevine in his neighbourhood, he'd soon be battling rumors of a wild, probably lascivious nightlife. The gossip around here was worse than in the wizarding world sometimes.

Draco didn't ignore the bell. He went to the front door and peeked behind the curtained window beside it. He didn't need the circle of illumination from the porch light to recognize Harry standing on his doorstep.

"Go away, Potter." He also didn't need the rumor mill gearing up over the presence of a man at his house at this hour, especially since said man was wearing a policeman's uniform. He also wasn't over the sting of the Gryffindor's accusation where Eli was concerned.

"Come on, Draco. Open up," Harry wheedled from the outside.

"Why?" Draco asked with a sneer. He saw the brunet tilt his head back.

Harry exhaled into the cold air, creating a cloud around his head. 

"Because it's bloody freezing out here."

"Doesn't sound like a good enough reason to me."

Harry focused on the window that Draco stood on the other side of. "So I can eat some crow, all right?"

Draco pressed his lips together and pulled open the door. A draft of cold air slid inside, making the blond shiver.

Harry stepped in, his gaze traveling first over Draco's green flannel robe, then to the chain lock that he very clearly hadn't needed to unfasten. "Start locking your doors," the Auror stated flatly. "This one, and your car."

Draco rolled his eyes at the Gryffindor's protective tendencies and then closed the door, pressing his back against it and crossing his arms over the chest of his thick robe. "Well?"

Harry pulled off his coat and when Draco didn't offer to take it, tossed it over the back of his wing chair. "I overreacted," he said abruptly. "I'm sorry."

The thing was Draco wasn't hugely upset that he'd overreacted. Stung, yes, but more importantly, the blond was concerned with why Harry had been so upset. "You were worried about Eli and you didn't know he was with me," Draco surmised, watching the Gryffindor closely. "Did you?"

Harry ran his fingers through his hair, leaving it in short, dishevelled black waves. "No." The Auror had been terrified when his son hadn't shown up at home at his usually time, thinking that perhaps some rouge Death Eater with a grudge to bear on The-Boy-Who-Lived may have found them and grabbed his son.

"Why were you looking for him, anyway? Weren't you supposed to be on duty?"

"I wanted to tell him I was going to sign him up for horseback riding lessons," Harry told the blond, remembering that his son had shown an interest in it. It really was just and excuse to see his son, though.

Draco raised his eyebrows. "And that necessitated a special trip to school?"

"He's been bugging me about it since we came to town. We got into it this morning before I dropped him off at school. I left knowing he was upset and I didn't want to wait any longer."

Draco steeled himself against softening too easily. "As I recall, you don't care much for horses," the blond returned remembering the one and only time he had convinced Harry to go riding with him at Malfoy Manor. 'You would think that someone who rode a hippogriff would be able to ride a horse,' the Slytherin mused privately.

Harry made a noise, bringing Draco out of his recollections. "They don't much care for me, is more to the point."

"Then I'll take Eli out riding. I know of a ranch that has lots of horses for hire. You needn't go out and pay for lessons for him. You know I just about grew up on horseback." Draco had an idea of what the Gryffindor earned as an Auror. It wasn't paltry, but paying for something when he didn't have to seemed silly to him, even if Potter was richer than he himself was now, with what his parents had left him and the Black fortune.

Being a teacher and supporting himself, as the Malfoy fortune had been frozen by the Ministry, Draco couldn't pay for too many unnecessary things. But he was good friends with the older lady who ran the stables, he was sure he'd be able to take the boy riding from time to time.

"We'll see," Harry answered evasively.

Draco might not be a parent himself, but he certainly knew what that usually meant. No. He decided to let the matter rest for now.

He went back to talking about what had happened before. "Why would you think someone would take off with your son? This is just a small town of muggles, everyone watches out for everyone else here."

"You haven't seen the kind of crap that happens to people that I have," Harry responded cryptically.

That comment left Draco wondering what else Harry wasn't telling him. The stood silently staring at each other for a moment. Okay. Potter had come and apologized for taking a strip off his hide when he'd been worried about the whereabouts of Eli. Draco should let him go.

"You want something to drink?" Draco nearly slapped his hand over his mouth, but the invitation was out there.

Harry angled a look the Slytherins way, slightly less surprised than he, himself, felt. "What are you offering?" the Gryffindor questioned.

'Evidently, my blond head on a platter' Draco thought ruefully. "Coffee, tea, hot chocolate," He said instead, his voice was abrupt as he internally chastised his own stupidity. He pushed his hands into the pockets of his robe, crossing his fingers in the hopes that Harry would decline.

"Coffee would be good."

'So much for superstitions.' Draco pulled his hands free. "If I didn't come from a family of avid coffee drinkers, I'd be shocked at wanting some at this hour." He pushed away from the door, excruciatingly aware of his state of undress compared to Potter's.

"Sit, the couch won't fall apart," Draco assured, noticing Harry looking at it. "It's covered in chintz, not made of it."

He went into the kitchen, not waiting to see if Harry sat or not. He picked up his wand on the dining table and waved it towards the coffeemaker, then stood there staring at the liquid that immediately began dripping into the glass carafe and debated whether or not he should change into some clothes.

If he did, Harry would undoubtedly think that Draco had done so because of him, which was true.

The blond let out a breath and pulled the sash of his robe tighter around his waist. He was already covered from his neck to his toes, and those were covered with fuzzy socks.

'It doesn't matter what you're wearing.' The voice of reason inside his head was stern. 

'He's only here because of Eli.' Draco fiddled with his sash again, tapped his fingers against the counter and willed the carafe to fill more quickly.

"How did you come across this house? It's quite nice."

Draco whirled and the hem of his robe flew out, baring his knee and he yanked the green fabric closed. "What?"

Harry's gaze slowly lifted to Draco's face, which felt on fire by the time he reached it. "Your house, it's nice."

"Um, thanks. I bought it from the fellow that supplies the school in computer equipment."

The coffeepot gave a reassuring gurgle that Draco recognized as the end of its work, and he grabbed a mug, filled it and thrust it at Harry. "There you go."

"Aren't you having any?" Harry questioned curiously.

Draco moistened his lips and shook his head. It was all he could do not to grab his robe even more tightly around himself, but he figured he already looked uptight enough.

Harry's long fingers curled around the white mug as he studied the liquid. The light overhead picked out the silver strand over his left temple. "What made you turn to teaching?"

Draco swallowed. That was territory he didn't want to discuss, not when it was all tangled up with their history. "It's something I've always been interested in," he replied, which was a good portion of the truth, but not all of it. "And there's a big need for teachers here," he finished, omitting the part that no one would have ever hired him to teach in the magical world.

Standing there in his minuscule kitchen where Harry seemed to occupy more than his fair share of the space was making Draco a little crazy. He slipped past the Gryffindor and headed back into the living room, taking the only single seat there, the wing chair. Potter could have to couch all to himself, safer that way.

Only he didn't head to the couch. Harry carried his mug in on long fingered hands as he stopped in the short hallway and studied the framed family pictures that hung on the wall. They were charmed to stay static, so as not to upset any muggle friends that Draco brought over.

"Whenever I thought about you, I pictured you living in some glass, high-rise penthouse, rich as a king," Harry intoned wistfully.

Draco's mouth went dry and he wished that he hadn't been so quick to decide against the coffee. He'd convinced himself that Potter had never thought about him, not once.

"Are you, um, really happy being an Auror?" Draco asked. He had always had the suspicion that Harry had become one out of some twisted Gryffindor sense of duty.

"I'm here on assignment, aren't I?" Harry lifted the mug to his mouth and took a drink.

Draco recognized well enough that Harry hadn't actually answered his question.

Harry continued looking at the pictures, eventually pointing to one with Lucius, Narcissa, a four year old Draco and a one year old girl as blond as the little boy who held her hand. "Who's the little kid standing beside you?"

"That was my younger sister, Lia. Liatris actually, but we called her Lia."

"Called?" Harry asked. He never knew that Draco had a sister.

"She died when she was two, my parents never talked about it," Draco shrugged staring at the picture, the only one he had with Lia in it.

Harry blew out a breath, not knowing what to say. It surprised him to think that he was still learning things about his former blond lover. "I'm sorry."

"It was a long time ago, I don't even remember her really," Draco responded. "The gossip is going to be flying around tomorrow," the blond joked, changing the subject. "About why a police unit is parked in front of my house at this hour of the night."

Harry finally turned away from the photographs. "Maybe we should give them something to really talk about."

Draco stilled.

Harry smiled faintly, through his eyes were dark and inscrutable. "I'm kidding," he sighed. His lips twisted a bit more and a small dimple briefly showed itself in his lean, shadowy cheek.

Draco deliberately looked away.

"Other gossip around here says you don't go out much," Harry said, watching the blond carefully.

"Who told you that?"

The Gryffindor grinned slightly. "Tommy Sawyer, actually. For a guy, he gossips more than any female I've ever known. So?" He finally sat down on the small couch.

"You know how gossip works," Draco replied disdainfully. "Sometimes accurate, sometimes not." Why had he invited the stupid git in for coffee?

The blond flicked the long edge of his robe back over his knee. Harry cast an interested look before he quickly averted his gaze, but not before Draco had noticed.

"So what are you really doing here?" Draco's voice was tart.

"Oh, this and that," Harry answered with a shrug.

Frustration nipped at the Slytherin. "You rarely answer a question straight out, do you?"

Unlike the blond, Harry wasn't frustrated, but amused. His lips twitched and then he smiled. His teeth were straight, and white.

It dawned on Draco that he hadn't seen him smile; truly smile, since he'd shown up in Little Whinging. He pulled in a breath that felt a little too shaky. It wasn't fair, the effect the Gryffindor had on him. It gave him far too much of an advantage. "Eli." Focus on Eli.

"What about him?" Harry asked.

Draco flushed. He needed to remember to guard his tongue better. "He...what else is he interested in? Besides horses, I mean."

"Video games, sports and generally making his old man crazy. Once that boy gets an idea in his head, he's like a dog with a bone between its teeth."

'Wonder where he got that trait from?' Draco thought sarcastically. The blond pressed his hands together, sitting forward. "Yeah, about that. He, um, well, you know, when he and I were in the park, we were talking and..." He broke off and stood. There was too much nervous energy flowing in his veins to stay still.

"And what?" Harry questioned

Draco pushed his hands in the side pockets of his robe, only to pull them out again. "Can you believe me when I tell you that I'm...I'm not taking out the past on your son? Eli is so bright. He's imaginative and creative, everything I like to see in a child, but he has been cheating and acting up in class, badly. I understand that's out of character for him so it's hard for you to believe, but..." "He told me."

The blond Slytherin blinked, caught off balance by the admission. "He did?" He brushed and errant strand of hair away from his cheek. "Did he say why?"

"He doesn't have to. He's pissed that I moved him here." Harry sat forward, settling his mug on the coffee table. "So, that's my fault, too."

Draco closed his eyes for a moment, then moved around the oval edge of the coffee table and sat on the couch, angling toward him. "He's got it in his head that you don't love him."

"No way," Harry immediately dismissed the idea. "Most everything I've done in his life has been for that boy."

And Draco had nursed a broken heart because of it, knowing that Harry had chosen Ginny and their son over him. That the morning after they'd made love for the last time, the Gryffindor had simply disappeared from his life. Draco had had to track him down, only to learn from a talkative member of the Ministry that he had a son and a fiance in the wings.

"You know that," Draco replied huskily. "Eli, however, has lost sight of it."

Harry's eyes, those beautiful eyes of his, focused harder on Draco's face and it felt as if the Gryffindor were looking right though him, seeing directly through all the walls he'd so carefully built against the brunet. "He told you this? Today, in the park, that's what you were doing. Asking my son if he thought I loved him?"

"No, I did not ask him that," Draco told him evenly. "I was trying to get to the bottom of his behavior in my class. He figures that since you didn't get after him for any of it, that you no longer care about him."

"Where the hell did he get that idea?"

Draco lifted his palms. "That'll be for you to work out with him. I just thought you should know where his head is at." The blond dragged his robe back over his knee and pushed off the couch, restlessly moving away from it. "Look, it's late, and you probably have to be in early in the morning and I've got a meeting before school starts, so..."

"Eli isn't mine."

Draco hadn't heard right. That's what he got for going short of sleep for too many nights. "I beg your pardon?"

Harry unfolded himself from the couch, too, facing the blond. His jaw was tight. "I'm not Eli's biological father."

The Slytherins lips moved, but no words came. His head had simply gone blank, and his legs felt curiously rubbery. He moved, and when his knee knocked into the wing chair, he sat down on it. "I... see," Draco finally said. His tongue felt thick.

"I doubt it." Now Harry looked the restless one as his long legs ate up the cozy confines of Draco's living room. 

"He's Deans."

Draco pressed his fingers against his lips, focusing hard on the two botanical prints framed on the wall above the couch.

"Draco..." Harry called out a bit worriedly.

The blond dropped his hand, shaking his head sharply. "Why are you telling me this now?" Now, when it didn't matter? Now, when he'd finally put everything behind him.

"I just wanted you to know." Harry shoved his hand through his hair again. "So that you would at least understand that."

But Draco didn't understand, and the more Harry told him, the more unclear everything became. "When did you find out?" he asked the Gryffindor slowly.

"I knew from the start. Ginny and I weren't...she was Dean's girl."

"You never mentioned that to me back then. Not when you told me about Thomas, about his death."

"I know." Harry's gaze was dark and shadowed. "I should have."

Draco winced. "So you did have plans to marry her when we...when you and I..." he couldn't make himself finish the sentence.

"I knew what I had to do. Yeah. I hadn't convinced Ginny of it yet, though." Harry paused. "That came later, after you."

There was a burning deep behind Draco's eyes. "And the fancy wedding in the garden?"

"That was supposed to have been for her and Dean. She hadn't cancelled all of the arrangements and it was a pretty easy matter to just use them. Not because she wanted to, but her mother, Molly, was pretty gung ho about her daughter being properly married, and the Weasley's had always liked me, thought I'd be good for Ginny." Harry's restless pacing ceased for a moment. "I never slept with her."

"Ever?" Draco questioned incredulously.

Harry hesitated, looking even more grim. "Yeah, well, later, after we'd been married a while. We were friends, Gin and me and we both had lost Dean, though she never blamed me for it. She never understood that it was my lead he was following. If anyone should have been killed, it was me. She never understood that. In the end, we had a marriage that we both wanted to make work."

"Did you love her?" Draco questioned, figuring he must have a masochistic streak since he'd stood hiding in a bush to watch him wed someone else, even after Harry had already broken it off with him. Now he knew that streak had never really gone away.

"Yes, but not at first, not like that."

Draco's throat felt like a vise was clamping it shut. He didn't have to ask if Harry had grieved her death when the blond could see it written on his face. "Then why did you marry her?"

"I told you, because of Eli. If it weren't for me, his real dad wouldn't have died, okay? I was Dean's partner. I should have had his back."

"Instead you just had his girlfriend," Draco shot back nastily.

Harry grimaced. "Damn it, Draco. I told you, it wasn't like that." He scrubbed his hand down his face. "When Dean was killed, he and Ginny already had the wedding planned. That was practically a miracle in itself because, at the time, they'd had their problems, but they'd worked them out. They had put off the wedding as long as they had because Eli was in and out of St.Mungo's back then. He was premature."

Harry reached the doorway to the kitchen, turned around and prowled back. "Then, when Dean was killed, Ginny was devastated. She sort of lost it for a while and you know the Weasley's aren't made of money, they were trying their best to keep up with Eli's expenses, but they had their limits. Their best bet was me. I have a fortune that's just sitting in Gringotts and I make a pretty good salary with the Ministry, so I talked Ginny into marrying me. After a year or so, I adopted Eli legally as well."

Draco blinked and a tear slid past his lashes and burned down his cheek. "Why didn't you tell me all of this then?"

"It wouldn't have changed anything. They were the decisions I had to make," Harry responded, wanting nothing more than to take the blond into his arms and erase that sorrowful and pained expression from his face.

"Then why...why me? Why get involved with me at all? There was nothing forcing your hand there." Draco hated it that he was still looking for something deeper, some reassurance that he hadn't imagined the connection they'd had, something that would tell him that he hadn't been an utter and complete fool.

Harry's pacing brought him closer. "I didn't say they were easy decisions, and you...you were the one thing in my life during that time that wasn't all messed up. I wasn't the reason you didn't have the man you loved, I wasn't the reason your baby had no father. Don't you see? It was all my fault." Harry took a deep breath and continued to give painful news. 

"It was selfish of me and I knew it at the time, which was why I told you that first day on the beach that there was no place for us to go. No future."

Harry may have thought up the idea of the picnic, but Draco had invited him to that beach. He had wheedled an agreement out of the Gryffindor, because even his virginal seventeen year old self had recognized the look in Harry's eyes when he'd looked at him.

The blond had chased after him, as much as the brunet had chased after him in sixth year, until he'd caught The-Boy-Who-Lived. When Harry talked about there being no future, Draco had confidently assured him that he didn't care about the future.

Draco had believed Harry's reticence where he was concerned had only been because of the Gryffindor causing his father to be sent to Azkaban and the fact that the brunet was worried about coming out to his friends.

All Draco had cared about was the present and sharing it with Harry, confident in his arrogant innocence that the future would take care of itself. Harry was the one good thing he had ever had in his whole miserable life and he was damned if he wouldn't try for it. The future had indeed taken care of itself, but in way's he'd never anticipated.

Draco looked down at his hands, twisted together in his lap until his knuckles looked white. "Does Eli know?"

"That I adopted him? Yeah, he's always known," Harry answered.

"And h-his health issues? What about them?" The blond hated that he was stuttering.

"He's been worked on by healers quite a lot, respiratory stuff primarily. He still has a tendency toward bronchitis that I try to watch out for, but mostly, the older he got, the stronger he became." Harry stopped next to the chair Draco was sitting in and bent his knees, crouching beside the blond.

Draco's heart stuttered when the Gryffindor covered his interlaced hands with his more calloused ones.

Harry was silent for a long moment, his thumb slowly stroking the sharp ridge of Draco's knuckles. "Everything I've done since before he was a year old has been for Elijah. No boy should have to grow up without a father," the Gryffindor finished sadly, thinking of his own childhood.

And everything Draco had accused him of hadn't been wrong, he just hadn't gotten the reasons right, but the end results were the same. Harry had chosen someone else. 

"It's late," the blond whispered. 

Seven years too late. 

"You should go."

In the gentle light of the lamp sitting on the side table beside the chair, Harry's eyes looked so deeply green they might have been black. "I'm sorry," the Gryffindor murmured.

Draco's vision blurred. He pressed his lips together and slowly pulled his hands from beneath Harry's. "So am I."