the tales of a wandering minstrel

the harry/malfoy thing

by: snottygrrl
rating: PG
paring:H/D
spoilers: none.
summary: post-war, ron figures out the harry/malfoy thing.
warnings: m/m relations implied. mpreg baby.
disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
This author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.
author's notes: this plot bunny came into being after i read sorion's only three years (which you should all go read). it works as a stand alone, but does come from the same universe several years later. huge kudos to my three lovely betas coffeejunkii, fungus_files and phenix_tears.
word count: ~2950


Ron thought he'd come to terms with the whole Harry/Malfoy thing.

It had been a shock to find him living with Ferret Face when Hermione had convinced Ron it was time to reconcile. They hadn't spoken with Harry for three years and apparently a few things had changed.

Later, when the stupor had worn off, Ron found himself going through a bizarre series of emotions. First, he denied that there could really be anything going on between the two of them. They were enemies after all. But when Harry had nearly thrown him out for suggesting that perhaps this whole living with and shagging the enemy phase would get old, and didn't he want to find a more compatible chap to settle down with?, Ron had quickly gotten angry. How dare Harry date Malfoy, of all people. When he lashed out about it to Hermione, she had slapped him. Hard. And then told him to deal with it. After that, he thought about making a deal with someone (a spirit? a daemon? God?). Something like, I won't prank Percy for a whole year if Harry could just fall for some nice bloke and leave the Ferret miserable. However, when it became apparent that there was no one to whom he could make such a promise (save with some scarily dark magic), and that he most likely wouldn't be able to hold up his end of the bargain anyway, Ron had slipped into a quiet depression.

For a while, watching Harry with Malfoy had been almost worse than the three years without him. Ironically, it was the watching that finally caused him to realise that Harry not only truly loved Malfoy, but seemed to need him as well. And despite Ron's initial skepticism, he came to believe that the pointy-faced git genuinely cared for Harry too.

He'd surprised everyone (himself included) when he'd readily agreed to be Harry's best man for their wedding, a scant six months later.

Over the years that followed, Malfoy and Ron had learned to carry on a civil conversation, and Ron had to grudgingly admit that an odd sort of friendship had developed.

Yet somehow this whole baby thing was different.

Ron could understand, in an intellectual kind of way, how Harry would want to shag Malfoy. Even he could see that Malfoy was rather fit and, if pressed, he'd have to acknowledge that he wasn't bad company. But the idea that Harry would willingly procreate with a Slytherin, and not just any Slytherin but the prince himself, was still hard for Ron to swallow.

"Do we both have to go?" asked Ron.

"Of course we do," Hermione admonished. "They're expecting us."

Ron tried again. "Maybe I should stay home with the twins. Baby Ginny is still fussing from the earache, and we really can't expect Fred to be able to deal with her and Baby George now that they are both crawling and - "

"I'm sure Fred will be fine. You know they adore him, especially Georgie," Hermione interrupted, giving him a shrewd look. "What is this about really?"

"Snape'll be there."

"Yes. And most likely Malfoy's parents." Hermione looked confused. "Don't you want to see Rosalind?"

Ron shrugged noncommittally.

"You haven't seen her since the hospital. That was over three months ago," She exclaimed.

"She's just a baby. It's not like she's going anywhere." Ron knew he sounded petulant, but he couldn't help himself.

"But she's Harry's daughter."

"That he had with the Ferret!"

The deafening silence told Ron he'd gone too far. He glanced cautiously over at his wife, who had an expression that wavered somewhere between incredulity and outrage.

"I'll get our coats," Ron conceded meekly.

~*~

" - a minute, Baby," Harry was saying over his shoulder as he opened the door. "Hey, guys! Glad you could make it." His enthusiastic greeting pricked at Ron's conscience. "I'm all alone here with a pack of Slytherins."

Ron's guilt about his earlier behavior increased with Hermione's pointed look. Harry was his best friend and no matter what made him happy, even if he had wanted to have You-Know-Who's love child - which would be a bloody feat what with You-Know-Who being dead and all - then Ron knew he should stand behind him and help him find a way.

Harry gave Hermione a quick kiss. "I need to help Draco in the kitchen for a minute." He gestured to their right. "The others are in the lounge. Why don't you go on in and I'll be along in a bit?"

Ron trailed after his wife, not really paying attention to his surroundings as he mentally braced himself to deal with "the others." He barreled into her back when Hermione stopped short. He looked up to see what had stalled her.

Ron wasn't sure he'd ever seen anything as disturbing as the scene in front of them, not even during the war. On the one hand, it was just a person holding a baby. On the other, it was Snape holding Harry's child. 

Snape looked distinctly uncomfortable. No, Ron decided, uncomfortable was not the word. Murderous would be more appropriate. The baby, seemingly oblivious to his rage, nestled further into his arms, her pink onesie contrasting ridiculously with Snape's usual old-fashioned, black robes. His posture twice as stiff as usual, Snape stood glaring at Lucius Malfoy, who was facing him, his cane crossed in front of his body as if to ward off some evil.

"She's your Goddaughter, Severus, you should hold her."

"Be that as it may, Lucius, she is your Granddaughter. You should take her."

"Potter gave her to you," The senior Malfoy countered.

"And now I am handing her to you," Snape continued in a voice that caused first-years to faint.

Mr. Malfoy looked aggravated. "It's just a baby, Severus."

"Something with which a confirmed bachelor and curmudgeon rarely comes in contact. You are a married man and a father."

"Do you think I ever touched Draco?" Lucius said with disdain. "We had nannies and house-elves for that."

Snape snorted. "Well, that illuminates a number of issues."

Ron, who had been watching the two men argue with interest, noticed Rosalind's increasing agitation as they quarreled. She emitted a quiet whimper and both men looked stricken.

Mr. Malfoy was the first to react. "Marvelous, you've upset her."

"I've upset her?" Snape hissed back.

At which point Rosalind screwed up her tiny face in a way Ron recognized as preparation to launch into a good crying fit. It was obvious both men realised it, too, in the horrified way they looked at her. Ron was greatly amused by the sight of two former Death Eaters being thoroughly cowed by such a small being. Though, he ruefully admitted to himself, he'd had similar experiences.

"She is about to start caterwauling!" Snape sounded more panicked than Ron had ever heard him. "She mustn't! Her fathers will - "

Mr. Malfoy pulled out his wand, about to cast a spell.

"Don't you dare." Both men froze at Hermione's stern command, Lucius' wand poised just above Rosalind. Before he could retract his hand, the baby reached up and grasped the wand.

"Look, she recognises a wand already," Lucius preened. "Exceedingly intelligent, definitely a Malfoy."

Snape rolled his eyes as Rosalind tried to drag it into her mouth. "Then I would assume this would be the Potter genes coming to the fore."

Lucius let out an undignified yelp and quickly extricated the wood before she succeeded.

As Rosalind began to fret again, Snape turned back towards Hermione, a pained grimace on his face. "Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley, how good to see you." He sounded slightly strangled and he grimaced again.

Ron had the odd feeling that perhaps Snape was trying to smile and be polite, something he found truly unnerving. He was relieved when a bit of the familiar malice returned to Snape's eyes at Hermione's correction. "Granger-Weasley."

"Mrs. Granger-Weasley," Snape ground out, "it would be self-indulgent of me to deprive you of time to bond with your Goddaughter." He held the baby out to her as Hermione regarded him with a cool gaze, her arms resolutely crossed. Rosalind began to whimper as she dangled from Snape's hands and his expression changed to sheer desperation.

"Oh, honestly," Hermione huffed as she went to rescue the squirming bundle.

Hermione took the baby, Snape readily relinquishing her. And then, just when Ron believed the tableau before him couldn't get any more bizarre, he was proven wrong. As Snape's hand came within her reach, Rosalind Potter-Malfoy curled her wee fist around one of Snape's long, pale fingers and cooed delightedly. The Potions Master looked as if he'd been hit with a Petrificus Totalus. Hermione tried unsuccessfully to hide a smile as she gathered Rosalind the rest of the way into her arms. Even Lucius looked decidedly amused when Snape just stood there, dumbstruck, as Hermione disentangled him from Rosalind's grip.

Ron heard a quiet snickering from the doorway that quickly turned into a cough. "Dinner will be ready in a bit. Can I get anybody something to drink? Ron? Hermione?"

After Harry had sorted everyone's beverages, he ambled over and began murmuring to Rosalind. "Hey there, Sweet Pea. Are you about ready for bed?" He turned his attention to her Godmother. "I should put her down before dinner's ready. Would you like to help?"

Ron was a little worried about his wife's enthusiastic response. The twins were a challenge to get settled for the night these days and, though part of him missed the sweet, peaceful evenings in the nursery from when they were newborns, he wasn't ready to add another baby to the family just yet. He turned his attention back to Harry, trying not to frown.

"How about it, Pumpkin? You want your Aunt Hermione to sing you a lullaby?"

Snape seemed to have recovered sufficiently from his incident with Rosalind. "Spare us the ludicrous epithets, Potter. Rosalind is a baby, not a vegetable garden."

Ron laughed despite Hermione's scowl as she and Harry took Rosalind off to the nursery. Amazingly, he and Snape managed to hold an actual conversation when they were left alone with the senior Malfoy. It was stilted and wary, but it was the most words they had ever exchanged at one go. Ron was oddly proud of the accomplishment.

A bit later, as Ron went to refresh their drinks, he was only mildly surprised to find Narcissa Malfoy setting the table. He wondered briefly whether she'd ever cooked before like her son did, but he was fairly certain she'd made sure the table was properly laid for many a swank party. He doubted that that was something one entrusted to the house-elves when important guests were invited. She smiled graciously at Ron and he was impressed, again, at how well Malfoy's parents had managed to adapt to this brave new world.

Eventually, the baby was tucked in and dinner was on the table. 

The food was fabulous, cooked to perfection with Draco's inimitable flare. Yet Ron couldn't bring himself to compliment him as he usually did. The thing was, Draco looked as he always had: immaculately dressed, hair perfectly styled. His body was once again trim, almost as if he'd never birthed Rosalind. His impeccable grooming was incongruous with a baby in the household. Even Hermione had a small spit-up stain on her shoulder from holding Rosalind earlier.  Ron found himself worried that Draco didn't understand what having a baby around was all about. That he would resent the time and attention Rosalind would need, and Harry would give her. That eventually he'd grow tired of the situation and leave Harry to fend on his own with their child.

Despite Ron's brooding, he couldn't help but enjoy the dinner. Draco had spared no expense and, by the third course, Ron was sure the meal was fit for the finest dinner party the manor had ever held. The conversation flowed with ease, Mrs. Malfoy stepping deftly in whenever there was a lull or an awkward pause. As pleasant as it all was, however, Ron was beginning to wonder if he was going to have to be rolled home, when the food finally came to an end.

As coffee was being served back in the lounge, the baby's whimper filled the room, drawing everyone's attention. For a moment Ron wondered how Rosalind could have crawled out of her crib, when he remembered the baby-monitoring spell they had used back when the twins were newborns.

Harry had only gotten as far as the "get" of his "I'll get her" by the time Draco had disappeared. Moments later, they could hear him cooing softly to the baby before Harry disabled the listening spell. Draco returned shortly with Rosalind, cradling her against his chest and soothing her tears with practiced efficiency.

"It looks as if she may have a hard night of it. Seems to have an upset stomach." Draco frowned slightly as he continued rubbing little circles on Rosalind's back. "I'll stay up with her."

Harry was shaking his head. "You got up early with her this morning. And you spent half the day cooking. You need to sleep."

"Harry," Draco's voice held a note of warning as he glanced at the guests. "You have that early meeting. You can't be late. I'll be fine."

But Harry would have none of it. "That's what an Invigoration Draught is for. Besides, it's my turn, you were up with her three nights ago." Draco opened his mouth to protest again but Harry cut him off. "No, Draco." His tone was determined. "The healer said that you aren't fully recovered and you need more rest." Harry ignored Draco's mutinous look. "Narcissa, speak to him. Merlin knows he isn't paying any attention to me. Maybe he'll listen to his mother."

Ron didn't think he'd seen Draco look quite this venomous since Hogwarts. Despite his obvious displeasure at his husband's tactics, Draco's body remained relaxed as he continued to gently calm Rosalind.

"You know he's correct, Darling." Narcissa took over, eyeing her son with concern. "Don't try to pretend that you didn't glamour away the dark circles under your eyes. I'm guessing this is the first time you've been properly dressed since my charming Granddaughter was born."

Draco made a disgruntled noise but he wouldn't meet his mother's eyes, nor did he contest what she said.

Ron looked at Draco once more, really looked at him. He realised that Draco wasn't as rested and relaxed as he'd originally thought. Nor was his outfit, nor hair, as neat and perfect as usual, and he wasn't so much trim as thin. Ron could suddenly see the tiredness in his stance. Sometimes, he forgot how effective Draco had always been at making people believe what he wanted them to. Forgot Malfoy's were trained to wear that bored expression, masking everything under the cool façade.

"Love, I know you hate to be away from her, especially when she isn't feeling well, but you'll do her no favours if you make yourself sick," Harry pleaded. "I promise I'll do my best to be as attentive as you are."

Draco's shoulders slumped as he finally returned Harry's gaze, distress apparent in his eyes. "Oh, Harry, I know you can take care of her, but you're back to working nearly full time and I'm still at home. I should be able to handle one small baby."

"Rosalind is hardly the same as my job. She needs attention around the clock. That's why she has both of us." Harry said softly, moving closer to Draco and caressing Rosalind's soft hair. "Besides, you're doing an amazing job with her and the flat. I'm really not sure how you manage."

"He's a Malfoy." There was a bit of smug satisfaction in Lucius' voice.

Ron blinked in surprise and had the absurd notion that Lucius Malfoy was actually proud of his son's management of the household and the attention with which he was raising the Malfoy heir. Ron was slightly alarmed to discover that he hoped Mr. Malfoy really did feel that way.

Harry wrapped an arm around Draco's waist and brushed a kiss across Rosalind's cheek. "Let me take care of both of you tonight, please." Draco leaned into Harry, his exhaustion suddenly vividly apparent, and nodded.

It was at that moment when comprehension dawned and Ron finally got just how much Draco Malfoy loved Harry Potter and what it must have meant to him to carry their daughter. He realised there was nothing about Malfoy he needed to justify, nothing to come to terms with about the whole Harry/Malfoy thing. Ron understood at last the strength of Malfoy's love and devotion and everything else just clicked into place.

~*~

Ron was still reeling with his insight a short while later after he and Hermione have said their goodbyes and were home once again.

Hermione reached for his hand. "You've been awfully quiet for a while. Everything all right?"

"Malfoy really loves Harry," Ron blurted out.

Hermione smiled softy, "Yes, he does."

"No, I mean he really loves Harry." Ron couldn't keep the wonder out of his voice. "Not just cares about him, or thinks he's hot, or gets along with him well.  He really loves him."

"Yes, I know, Ron." Her smile was wide now.

Ron felt slightly affronted and his voice was a touch accusatory, "Well, you could have told me."

Hermione squeezed his hand. "No, I couldn't."

Ron was silent for a moment considering this. "Rosalind's really lucky."

"Yes, she is." Hermione's smile turned sly. "You know, she and Georgie would make the cutest couple."

Ron grinned ruefully. "Don't push me."

~fin