Title: To the Moon Part 2
Author: Constant Vigilance
Status: FIN
Email: tirel@pcnuthut.com

Website: https://www.angelfire.com/tv2/firebird_ascending/
Rating: R for disturbing topics and language
Pairing: Harry/Draco (not while under the curse, however)
Spoilers: Some book 5 events. AU. Characters aged up to age of consent.
Warnings: Slash, implied rape/incest, violence, shmoopy WAFF in places
Disclaimer: I own nothing. JKR is God.
Summary: Draco is turned into a child. Harry takes care of him.
Notes: Written for Wave 1 of The Ebony and Ivory Fu-Q-fest found at http://mortal-moon.org/hdfqf/index.html

Challenges: 59.  Harry finds Draco crying.  (Minnie)

79.  Harry finds out what Draco sees when he's near a dementor. (Aeowen)

12. Draco overhears a secret of Harry Potter...he likes a Slytherin.  (Minnie)

July 1:

The next morning, he eagerly headed downstairs to see how Draco had fared in his first night ‘away from home.’ He paused in front of the common room door, not exactly sure that just because he knew the password that he should use it. Finally, he decided he wanted to see Draco too much to just hang out here in the hallway and so he spoke the word, watching the door swing open silently.

What he found was not exactly what he expected. Greg sat on the couch, eyes drooping and bloodshot, holding a tear-streaked, red-faced hiccupping Draco. Vince lay in an exhausted slump on the other couch, obviously asleep.

“What happened?” Harry demanded, striding into the room.

“H-Harry?” Draco’s broken voice stuttered out and he slid off of an unresisting Greg to stand shakily in the center of the room.

“Draco, pet,” Harry held his arms out and knelt to the little boy’s level. “What happened, love?” Draco launched himself across the room and slammed into Harry with enough force to knock the older boy on his arse. Harry clung to the sobbing little boy and looked over his shoulder in question.

Greg sighed and slumped further down into the couch. “He hasn’t slept all night,” he slurred, exhaustion evident in every part of his demeanor. “Vince took the first shift with him. Woke me up about 3 a.m.”

“Why couldn’t he sleep?” Harry asked, slowly rubbing circles on Draco’s back.

A shrug. “He thought you’d left him.” Greg curled on his side, plumping up the armrest pillow for his head. “He freaked out and nothing we could do or say could convince him that you were coming back. He just cried til he threw up and then cried some more.”

“Why didn’t you come get me?” Harry demanded a bit snappishly.

Greg cracked an eye open. “From where? I don’t know where Gryffindor tower is, Potter,” he returned waspishly.

“Well, you could have gotten an adult,” Harry added petulantly.

Greg rolled his eye and then shut it. “Probably. But Slytherins don’t work that way, Potter. We handle things ourselves.”

Harry snorted. “Well, you certainly handled this well.”

Greg opened up his eyes and raised his head, glaring at the Gryffindor. “If you don’t like how we handled it, then why don’t you move your hoity-toity arse down here to the dungeons for the summer and do it for us?”

“Maybe I will!” Harry threw back.

“You’d stay down here with me, Harry?” Draco whispered from the security of Harry’s arms. Harry glanced down at the tear-streaked face and shining eyes and was effectively lost.

He smiled. “Yeah, pet. I can do that.”

Draco hugged Harry tightly and snuggled down into his embrace. “Thank you, Harry.”

“You’re welcome, love,” Harry whispered into his hair. “But,” he continued, pulling his head up to look at the small boy, “I need to get my stuff from the tower.” Draco nodded. “That means I have to leave for a short time to go get it.” Draco pulled a face but nodded again. “So, I need you to lay down and try to get some sleep while I pack. When I get back, and you’re rested, we can have some lunch and maybe all do something together, all right?”

Draco nodded vigorously and allowed Harry to place him in an armchair. He smiled up trustingly at Harry and curled into a little ball, promptly falling asleep. Harry sighed in relief and stood up.

“You’re good with him,” came Vince’s voice. Harry glanced over in surprise. “I would have thought you’d be after my blood right now, Crabbe,” Harry raised an eyebrow. “After all, I just sentenced you to a whole summer with me in your dorm room.”

Vince shrugged unconcernedly. “Least it means I’ll get to sleep the whole night through. He was insane, Potter. It was all we could do to keep him from hurting himself. I’d never seen him like that.”

Harry didn’t know what to say, so he chose to change the subject. “You should get some more sleep too. I’ll be back in a bit with my stuff.”

“Yeah, and then we can have lunch and all do something together,” Vince grinned. “I heard.”

Harry tried to suppress a smile and failed. “Piss off, Crabbe,” he said without heat.

“Wow, original this early in the morning aren’t we?” Vince returned good-naturedly. Harry rolled his eyes and left the room with a grin. Maybe, it wouldn’t be that horrible of an experience.

It didn’t take Harry very long to get his belongings together. He just threw some summer clothes into his rucksack and then tossed in his toiletries. He didn’t trust any of his other belongings just lying around the Slytherin common room. He paused over his swim trunks and then glanced out the window. A slow smile grew on his face. “I think I’ve just found how we’re going to spend our afternoon, Draco love,” he muttered. On his way back to the dungeons, he swung by the kitchens to order up some snacks to take swimming.

When he arrived back at the common room, all three occupants were sleeping soundly. He transfigured a spare pillow into a small quilt for Draco and tucked it up around his chin before heading off to find the boys’ dorm. Thankfully, the dorms were laid out in the same way as his own and so his only problem lie in figuring out whose bed was whose.

He must have stood for five minutes trying to figure out a foolproof way to choose which bed was unoccupied by Greg, Vince or Draco so that he could put his stuff away. When he finally realized that each boy’s trunk sat at the foot of their bed…with their names on them…he smacked his hand against his forehead, extremely glad no one was there to witness his brief lapse into stupidity.

He unpacked his belongings into the cupboard nearest Draco and then decided to take a brief nap himself before the others woke up. He was surprised to find that he fell asleep as quickly as he did.

He became aware of warmth on his sidelong before consciousness began to take hold. By the time he opened his eyes, he had figured out that it was a small body curled up beside him. He cracked open an eye and found bright grey eyes smiling up at him. He couldn’t help but to smile back. “Hi,” he said huskily.

“You came back,” Draco whispered.

“Course I did,” Harry frowned. “I said I would, didn’t I?”

Draco nodded and bounced off of the bed. “I’m hungry, Harry,” he announced.

With a grin, Harry climbed out of bed and staggered to his feet. “All right,” he sighed, smiling to show he was playing. “I suppose I have to feed you, hmmm?” Draco nodded vigorously. “Okay, so come on then. We’ll head to the Great Hall for lunch.”

Draco suddenly stopped smiling. His eyes widened and he looked horrified.

Harry’s eyebrows came together. “What’s wrong, pet?”

“I…I…I had an accident,” Draco whispered, eyes locked on the floor.

Harry cocked his head. “What kind of accident? Did you hurt yourself?” He moved to touch Draco’s shoulder but the boy flinched away, something he’d not done to Harry since he first came out from behind the statue. “Draco? Pet, what happened?”

“I had an accident,” Draco whispered again, his voice sounding choked with tears.

“What kind of accident, love?” Nearly frantic, Harry dropped to his knees in front of Draco. Draco gazed up at him, sorrow and fear in his eyes.

“I-in my…my tr-trousers,” he managed just before the tears began to fall.

Harry frowned and chucked a finger under Draco’s chin. “You wet your trousers?” he tried to clarify. Draco shook his head. Understanding suddenly dawned. “Oh, you…” Harry waved his hand, not sure how to politely put what he would normally just have called it. “You, er…did that in you trousers?” he finally settled on the safest phrase he could think of.

Draco nodded and moaned low in his throat like a dying thing. Harry shuffled closer. “Hey,” he soothed, closing his arms around Draco in a tight embrace. “It’s okay. Things like that happen sometimes.” Draco stood stiff in Harry’s arms, not really sure that the punishment wasn’t going to follow the nicety. “Draco, really,” he rubbed his hand on Draco’s back. “It’s all right. We’ll get you cleaned up. And next time, you’ll just remember to tell me sooner when you have to go, okay?”

Draco nodded against Harry’s chest, not sure how he’d escaped punishment but not willing to argue about it. Harry ushered him in the bathroom and tugged his trousers and pants down gently. When Draco flinched away, Harry mistook it for embarrassment. He quickly cast a cleansing charm on Draco’s lower extremities and did the same for his clothes before chucking them into the laundry.

“We’ll transfigure you some more from your chest,” he called over his shoulder. “For now, why don’t you finish taking your clothes off and I’ll help you shower. Draco moaned again, too low for even Harry to hear, but did as he was bade. He waited for the other boot to fall as Harry began stripping himself. When the older boy was down to his boxers, he stepped into the shower with Draco.

“There we go,” he smiled at the shivering Draco. “Hey,” he looked concernedly at him. “You’re pretty cold. Let’s get you into the shower. Draco stared at Harry the whole shower, marveling at the notion of an adult bathing him, shampooing his hair, and rinsing him off without putting their hands or…other things on him. Or in him. When Harry rinsed the last of the bubbles off of him and shut the shower off, Draco was wrapped in a warm, fluffy towel and swung up in Harry’s arms to be carried back to the dorm room.

Once there, Harry set him gently on the bed and rifled through the trunk that Greg had said was Draco’s. When Harry stood back up, he was triumphantly holding up a pair of trousers and a shirt. Another forage into the trunk yielded pants and socks. Harry searched for the shoes he’d transformed the day before and soon, Draco had a new set of clothes to wear.

Harry had just finished tying Draco’s shoes when a sleepy Greg and Vince shuffled through the door. He smiled at the barely conscious looks on their faces. “Morning, guys,” he grinned. Greg flipped him a two-fingered salute, Vince just grunted. “Better get dressed. Lunch is in a few minutes and then we’re going swimming.”

“Harry?” Draco sounded nervous.

“Hmmm?”

“I don’t know how to swim,” he admitted softly.

“That’s okay, poppet,” Harry smiled as he swung Draco up and around in a circle. “I didn’t know how to swim until I came to Hogwarts myself. My aunt and uncle never let me learn.”

“But you know now?” Draco giggled at the air whooshing through his hair.

“Yup. And it’s my duty to pass that along to you,” he tossed the youngster on the bed and leaped upon him, tickling fingers in action before Draco could squirm away. He glanced up after Draco cried uncle to find Greg and Vince watching him with curious expressions. “What?” he asked defensively.

“Nothing,” Greg replied. “We’ll be right out.”

Harry nodded and plucked Draco up, carrying him out into the common room.

Lunch was a merry affair. Draco insisted on sitting next to Harry and his Uncle Sev’rus. A fact that didn’t please either Harry or Uncle Sev’rus. However, they both sucked it up and smiled politely at one another. After lunch, Harry told Draco to walk down to the lake with Greg and Vince and he popped into the kitchen for the previously ordered afternoon snacks.

By the time he got to the lake, the older Slytherin boys were splashing with Draco in the shallows. Draco’s happy laughter echoed across the water and Harry took a moment to be thankful for this second chance with the bright haired boy.

Draco quickly picked up swimming. He was as graceful in the water as he was in the air. Eventually, he convinced the older boys to plop down in the sand and make the biggest sand castle that Hogwarts had ever seen, complete with moat and a charmed drawbridge. Vince animated a twig to be the moat monster and Greg transfigured a leaf into the Slytherin house flag for the castle flag. Harry didn’t even argue after he saw the excitement shining in Draco’s eyes.

Later that night, as Harry was tucking Draco into his own bed, the little boy pouted at him. Harry hid his grin. “What?” he asked pointedly. Draco looked so downtrodden that Harry was sure it was a ploy. “What do you want now, Draco?” he couldn’t resist a small smile.

“Can you read me a story?”

Harry hesitated for a moment. “Well, I don’t really have anything that a little boy would like…but,” he continued hastily as the downtrodden look became more of a reality. “But I’m sure I can find something to read to you. We’ll just have to go into Hogsmeade tomorrow and pick something up to read together. I need to get you some new clothes as well. I can’t keep changing all of your clothes to fit you or you’ll have nothing to wear when you grow back up.”

Draco nodded solemnly and waited patiently for Harry to rummage around in the room until he found a book on Mythical and Magical Creatures. He began to read, enjoying how the cadence of his words caused Draco’s eyelids to grow heavier and heavier. Just as Draco was nodding off, his eyes shot back open.

“Harry?”

“Yes, love?”

“Will you sleep with me tonight?”

The pleading tone in Draco’s voice was not to be denied. Nor was the warmth spreading through Harry’s chest. Or the lancing pain through his heart. But he couldn’t say no. To either one of them. “Sure, pet. I’ll sleep with you tonight.”

____________________________________________________________________________

July 2:

Harry fluttered his eyes open the nest morning and met, not the shining silver of Draco’s head as the day before, but rather the huge eyes and floppy ears of a house elf. Giving a small start, he reached over and lifted his glasses up from the bedside table. The world came into focus. “Dobby?” he asked sleepily.

“Yes, Harry Potter, sir!” Dobby nodded vigorously.

“What are you doing down here?” Harry rubbed his eyes under his frames.

“There is talk in the kitchens, Harry Potter sir,” Dobby leaned forward, nearly whispering. “Talk that young Master Malfoy is staying with Harry Potter. That Harry Potter is taking care of the young master while he is a child.”

Harry smiled at the secretive glance Dobby cast behind his bony shoulder. “That is correct, Dobby,” he nodded down to the small figure huddled up against his side. “Is that what brings you here this morning? You wanted to confirm that?” Harry’s face took on a scowl. “He’s not a freak to be gawked at, Dobby.”

Dobby shook his head and looked properly horrified. “Oh, no, Harry Potter, sir. Dobby would never think that about the young master. He was Dobby’s friend.”

Harry frowned. “Draco was friends with a house elf?”

Dobby nodded. “Master Lucius was ever so angry with Master Draco when he discovered it. But Master Draco still tried to protect us even after he wasn’t allowed to play with us any longer.” Dobby took on a fond expression. “Master Draco was the sweetest little boy. Dobby was hoping that Master Draco remembered Dobby and might want to play since the master is a child again.”

Harry just opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish for long moments.

“Harry? What’s wrong?” Draco’s sleepy little voice asked. He poked his head up out of the blankets and looked around for whatever was causing Harry’s expression. When he caught sight of the house elf, his eyes widened. “Dobby?” he whispered.

The elf nodded, a smile extending over his face. “Yes, Master Draco, it is Dobby.”

Draco flung himself out of the bed and around the small elf’s body. “Dobby! How’d you get here? Did father send you? Can you stay?”

Harry closed his mouth but continued to blink stupidly.

“Oh, Master Draco, Dobby is missing you very much!” Dobby hugged the little boy back. “Dobby works here now. Harry Potter saved Dobby from Master Lucius five years ago. Dobby can stay as long as Master Draco likes.”

Draco pulled back and gazed in wonder. “Harry saved you?” Dobby nodded. Draco looked sad. “So, Father found out that we were friends?”

“Yes,” Dobby nodded, “but that isn’t why Dobby is here. Master Lucius tried to hurt Harry Potter. Dobby was a bad elf and told Master’s secrets to Harry Potter. Dobby didn’t want Harry Potter to die.” Dobby’s voice grew smaller and smaller and he looked like he was one step away from slamming his head in a door just for the remembered misbehavior.

“Father was going to hurt Harry?” Draco repeated, eyes narrowed. At Dobby’s weak nod, Draco hugged the elf again. “I’m glad you told, Dobby,” he whispered fiercely in the elf’s ear. “I’m glad you saved Harry.” Dobby looked like he was about to cry, so pleased was he that Master Draco wasn’t angry for his betrayal of the Malfoy house.

“Would Master Draco like to spend the morning with Dobby?” the diminutive elf sniffed, a smile on his face. “The house elves are making cookies in the kitchen.”

Draco’s eyes lit up. “Cookies?” He turned to Harry. “Please, Harry? Can I make cookies with Dobby? He makes the best cookies!”

Harry grinned and nodded. Draco whooped and began bouncing on the balls of his feet. A moment later, he froze and glanced trepiditiously back at Harry. Harry tilted his head, his smile fading. “Draco, you can laugh. You can be happy. You can be five,” he reassured him. “Go with Dobby to brush your teeth. I’ll shrink you something to wear for today and you can go spend the morning with Dobby in the kitchen.”

Draco nodded with a faint shy smile and bounded off to the bathroom, Dobby in tow. Harry sighed and fell back against the pillows.

“Um…” came the hesitant voice of Greg Goyle, whom Harry hadn’t even known was awake. “Since Draco is spending the morning with Dobby, you…er…you want to spend the morning with us?” He looked as though he expected to be shot down. In a way, Harry thought with a smile, he looked as young and shy as Draco.

“I’d like that,” he replied.

____________________________________________________________________________

Greg was surprisingly good at chess. Harry thought that if Ron could stomach the thought of being in the same room as the larger Slytherin, Greg could give Ron a run for his money. Vince wasn’t much into chess, preferring to spend the morning scratching in an art book. He occasionally glanced up at Greg and Harry, bit his lip and went back to scritch-scritching on the paper.

Harry had just put his shoes on to retrieve some pumpkin juice from the kitchen…and surreptitiously check on Draco…when two owls flew in through the open dungeon window. Harry paused when he saw the panicked looks on the two Slytherin boys’ faces. He watched as they accepted the letters and unrolled the parchments. The owls flew back out the window without waiting for an answer.

Greg read quicker than Vince and had staggered to a chair, placing his head between his knees. Harry moved to help the other boy when Vince finished reading his own letter and simply collapsed on the floor where he stood.

“Merlin!” Harry yelped, torn between whom to try to help first. “What the hell?”

Greg looked up, his face ashen, circles suddenly evident under his eyes. He held up the letter. “They want us to come home,” he intoned monotonously. “They don’t care about Draco’s problem. This just gives them a chance to force the dark mark on us before him. It’s a way to one-up the Malfoys.”

Vince spoke into the silence that followed. “They want us home for the initiation this weekend.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “They want us marked by next week.” Harry didn’t know what to do when the larger boy started to shake. “What are we going to do, Greg?” Vince whispered.

“I don’t know,” Greg returned, his hands fisted into white balls of flesh.

Harry frowned. “What do you want to do?” he asked a bit impatiently. “Surely you’ve thought about this before now?”

Greg smiled wryly. “Potter, no one but Draco has ever asked what we wanted. No one cares. We just do what our parents want or, if we can get away with it, what Draco wants.”

“Well, you know what your parents want,” Harry gestured to the letter still in Greg’s hand. “What would Draco want?”

“He knows we don’t want to be Death Eaters,” Vince piped up.

“Would he support your refusal?”

Vince shrugged. “Outwardly? Don’t know. He’s scared to death of his father. Privately, he’d applaud up for saying no.”

“I wish he were here. He’d tell us to do,” Greg said wistfully.

Harry scowled. “That’s bollocks,” he snorted. “You don’t need Draco to tell you what to do. What you need is to have faith that what you’re doing is the right thing for you. If Draco truly cares about you, he’ll support you no matter what.”

Greg glared. “He does care about us!”

Harry shrugged. “Then whatever you decide will be fine.”

Vince carefully set his letter down on the floor next to him. “What do you thing we should do?”

Greg rolled his eyes. “That’s a stupid question, Vince. Hero of the wizarding world? Course he thinks we shouldn’t take the mark.”

Harry clenched his own fists in the folds of his robes. “Why does it always come down to that?” he demanded angrily. “So I’m Harry Potter. Who gives a fuck? Why is being Harry Bloody Golden Potter the only reason I might have for not wanting you to take it?” he practically spat. “I’m the boy that had death eaters kill his family. That’s why I think you shouldn’t take it. I’m the boy who watches nightly as Voldemort murders muggles and tortures his own death eaters. That’s why I think you shouldn’t take it.”

Greg’s hand, the one holding his own letter, slowly dropped as well. “I’m the boy that’s spent the last 6 years barely hanging on to my life each year as Voldemort sends person after thing to kill me. That’s why I think you shouldn’t take it. I’m the boy who thinks you’ve more potential than spending the rest of your lives being lackeys to a murdering insane bastard. That’s why I think you shouldn’t take it.”

He glared his pain into their eyes. “I’m the boy who knows he’ll face death eaters in battle one day and it makes me sick to think that I may have to watch you be killed for having the wrong tattoo on your arm. That’s why I think you shouldn’t take it. I’m the boy who thinks his heart will break if he has to be the one to explain to a restored Draco Malfoy what his friends had to do this summer. That’s why I think you shouldn’t take it. Would you like some more bloody reasons?”

Vince stared up at him in something akin to awe. Greg had a more thoughtful look. “You…you’d be sick if you had to see us killed?”

Harry eyed them incredulously. “What? Of course! Why the hell would you even have to ask that?”

“Cause we’re people too, right?” Greg tried one last hand. “ Not cause you like us or anything.”

Harry sighed. “I don’t know you well enough to like you. All I’ve ever seen has been Crabbe and Goyle, Malfoy’s bastard bodyguards. But I’d like a chance to get to know Vince and Greg, Draco’s friends.”

“You want to get to know us?” Vince looked hopeful.

“Yes,” Harry nodded. “Yes, I do.”

“So, like what? What do you want to know?” he continued.

Another sigh. “Anything. What are your favorite colors? Which Quidditch team do you root for? What foods do you like to eat? Which girls are you interested in?”

“Well what about you?” Greg threw back at him.

“What about me?” Harry asked curiously.

“Don’t you think we should get to know you too?” Vince said.

Harry was surprised, but rather pleased if the truth were told. “Sure,” he shrugged. That’s fine. I’ll answer whatever you answer,” he said slyly, a grin on his face. “How does that sound?”

Greg returned the sly grin. “Sounds fine.”

“So what’s your favorite color, Greg? Vince?”

“I like blue,” Vince said hesitantly.

“I’m rather partial to red,” Greg said. “But not cause it’s Gryffindor colors,” he added pointedly.

Harry grinned. “I never would have thought that, Greg. I actually like green myself. But not because of Slytherin,” he tossed Greg’s comment back at him. “Who do you support in professional Quidditch? I like Puddlemere.”

Greg’s eyes widened. “Really? I love Puddlemere.”

Vince rolled his eyes. “Yeah, he won’t shut up about them. I like the Magpies, personally. So does Draco. What’s your favorite food then, Harry? I like vanilla custard.”

“I think I like chocolate frogs the best,” Harry said shyly.

Greg’s eyebrow rose. “Do you now? Why?”

Harry nearly flushed. “It was the first wizarding food I ever had,” he nearly whispered. “I know it’s hokey, but it…well, it’s just a good memory, I suppose.”

Greg nodded. “I can see that. My favorite is Shepard’s pie. My parents won’t serve it at home, though. They say it’s too low class,” he rolled his eyes. Harry smiled appreciatively at Greg’s casual acceptance.

“So,” he continued with a smirk. “What about girls?”

Vince shrugged. “We don’t like girls.”

“You don’t…you’re queer?” Harry gaped. Both boys nodded. “Both of you?” They nodded again. Harry blinked. “Oh. Okay. So which boys are you interested in, then?”

Greg frowned. “You’re okay with that?”

“Sure,” Harry shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You don’t think it’s sick?” Greg pressed. “That it’s catching? That we’re going to jump you?”

Harry grinned. “Uh, no, no, and not unless I’m one of the boys you’re interested in?” he raised an eyebrow.

“We’re together,” Vince blurted out.

Greg flushed. “You could have waited,” he hissed.

“Why?” Vince looked confused.

Greg sighed. “Never mind.”

“How long have you two been together?” Harry asked curiously.

“Two years,” Vince smiled happily at Greg, who couldn’t help but smile back.

“Congratulations,” Harry grinned. “A little late, but heartfelt nonetheless.”

“Thanks,” Vince nodded.

“You really don’t care?” Greg couldn’t seem to give it up.

“Really don’t,” Harry assured them.

“So what about you?” Vince asked eagerly. “What lovely lady do you have your eye on?”

Harry flushed but grinned. “Fraid I play on your side of the fence too, guys.”

Jaws dropped in shock. “The Boy Who Lived is queer?” Vince breathed.

Harry sighed in frustration. “No. I am queer. Harry is queer. Me. Just me.”

“You really hate that don’t you?” “Greg peered at him. “People pointing out the golden boy thing?”

Harry nodded. “More than you could possibly imagine.”

“So, who do you like?” Vince asked again. Harry got a dreamy expression on his face. “Shit! It’s not just a crush is it? You’re in love with this mystery guy, aren’t you?” Harry nodded with a tiny smile.

“I really think I am.”

“Do we know him?”

Harry flushed. “Yes. Yes you do.”

“What house is he in?”

Harry paused. “Slytherin,” he said softly.

“Who’s in Slytherin?” A new voice entered the conversation. Draco piped in from the doorway, Dobby right behind him bearing a plate of cookies.

“Harry’s got a crush on someone in Slytherin,” Vince grinned at the little boy.

“Actually, Harry’s in love with someone in Slytherin,” Greg elbowed Harry with a matching smirk.

“Really?” Draco looked interested. “Who?”

Everyone, even Dobby, turned expectantly to Harry who turned bright red with mortification. “I…er…” he looked helplessly first at Greg then Vince and finally at Draco. “Well…I…umm…” he squeezed his eyes shut and wiped his hand down his face. “I can’t actually tell you right now,” he finished in a whisper.

“Hey!” Vince protested. “You said you would if we did and now you’re—“ Greg’s eyes widened and he elbowed Vince, cutting him off. “What?” Vince snapped. “Well he did.”

“I know, Vince,” Greg murmured. “And he did tell us.”

“When?”

“Just now,” Greg said softly.

“I didn’t hear him.”

“Me neither,” Draco added. “Who do you love Harry?” He held up his arms, asking silently to be picked up. Harry smiled gently and leaned down to pick him up, cuddling Draco next to his heart.

“Well, you of course, silly bear,” Harry smiled into the adoring gaze Draco bestowed on him. “Didn’t you know that already? I love you, Draco. Only you,” he added softly, pain in his voice.

Vince’s eyes widened. He finally got it as well. Draco laughed and hugged Harry back. “I love you too, Harry,” he said nestling his head in the crook of Harry’s neck. Harry smiled, though a tear leaks out of his eye. He tried to wipe it away on Draco’s shirt, but didn’t move fast enough to keep Greg and Vince from seeing.

“Course you do, poppet. Now, tell me you brought me some of those cookies you and Dobby made?”

“Yep!” Draco beckoned to Dobby who handed the package to Harry, sorrow and understanding in his limpet eyes. Harry flinched. Crap. Even the house elves know now, he though. He plopped down on the couch, still cuddling Draco, and began to unwrap the cookies.

Greg and Vince watched for long moments and then, as one, stood and moved to the common room fire. Determinedly, they tossed their parents’ letters into the flames and moved back to the couch. When they looked up, Harry was smiling…real affection in his gaze. And not just for Draco.

__________________________________________________________________________

Dobby really did make the best cookies. Harry couldn’t believe that he’d not known that beforehand. Eventually, after enough cookies to make even Greg and Vince feel full, Dobby pulled Harry aside to whisper to him. “Dobby thought Harry Potter ought to know that young Master Draco…”

Harry watched the huge eyes dart about carefully. “He what, Dobby?”

“He…messed himself, sir,” Dobby breathed, staring down at his feet.

Harry frowned. “You mean he made a mess in the kitchen? Did you want me to come down and clean it up?”

Dobby shook his head wildly. “No, Harry Potter sir. Master Draco did not make a mess. He…messed himself.” At Harry’s confused look, Dobby pointed to his own rump. Understanding hit Harry like a wall.

“Oh!” he breathed out. “He had another accident.” Dobby nodded. Harry shrugged. “It’s okay, Dobby. He had the same problem yesterday. He was probably just too excited to be with you again to remember to use the lav.”

Dobby shook his head sadly. “Or perhaps, Harry Potter sir, it was something else.”

Harry eyed the elf worriedly. “Something else? Like what?”

Dobby cowered. “Dobby shouldn’t tell Harry Potter sir.”

“Dobby, you don’t work for the Malfoys anymore,” Harry sounded frustrated. “No one will beat you for speaking.”

Dobby nodded slowly. “Harry Potter should look…really look…for another reason,” he whispered and then disappeared so fast that had Harry might have imagined he apparated.

Harry pondered Dobby’s words the rest of the day. He pushed them to the back of his head as he, Greg and Vince took Draco down to Hogsmeade, but the thought was still in the back of his head. He pondered it as Draco twirled around in his new trousers. He pondered it as Draco showed off his new shirts and jumpers. He pondered it…and thusly purchased extra…while Draco peered at the little boy boxers Greg piled onto the heap of clothing in Harry’s lap.

It was still swirling around as he tugged Draco into the bookstore to purchase some real little boy books to read at night. He allowed Draco to choose the stories and Draco came back with a large book of fairy tales, both muggle and magical, and a book about a rabbit. Harry was surprised to see Draco cuddling the book to his chest.

“What do you have there, poppet?” he smiled.

Draco blushed. “Greg read the name for me. I wanted you to read it to me.” Harry leaned in to catch a glimpse of the title. Guess How Much I Love You was emblazoned across the cover along with a picture of a large and a small hare.

“How about we read it tonight?” Harry ruffled the little boy’s hair. Draco’s face lit up and he nodded enthusiastically.

Draco insisted that all the boys take a turn reading to him. Greg rolled his eyes, but Harry noticed that he allowed Draco to snuggle down in the crook of his arm as the deep voiced boy told the tale of The Swan Princess. Vince was a bit harder to convince. Harry thought maybe he just didn’t want to do such a domestic chore. But then, Vince sighed heavily and sat down with Draco, a slight flush on his face. He began reading and Harry understood. Vince read about as well as Draco.

It was painful to watch him stutter and stumble through simple words and Harry found himself mouthing the words along silently with the Slytherin. He glanced over at Greg and was startled to see a sorrowful, pained look on his face as he tried to immerse himself in the chess game he’d started with Harry.

“He’s too ashamed to let me help him.” Harry caught the barest whisper of sound from across the board. “Draco tries. He’s really patient. But Vince gets frustrated so easily that he just storms off before they’ve hardly begun.”

Harry leaned closer. “How has he managed his school work?

“Draco and I read the chapters to him. He’s not slow; he just has a hard time with certain words. He gets them all backwards.”

Harry frowned and glanced up. “Backwards? Has he ever been tested for dyslexia?”

Greg returned the frown. “What’s that?”

“It’s a muggle term. It’s a reading disorder that causes you to not be able to read or write words in the correct order. Sometimes you can’t even put the letter of a single word in the right order.” Greg looked as though Harry had just handed him the crown jewels of England. “It’s quite common,” Harry continued quietly. “In muggle schools, problems generally show up when children first are learning to read. That’s when they tend to test them for it.”

Greg still stared at Harry in awe. Harry was beginning to feel uncomfortable. “What?” he hissed. “Don’t wizards check for that?”

Greg shrugged, finally snapping out of his daze. “Dunno. They might in schools. Me and Vince were taught at home. Most purebloods are,” he added apologetically. “I don’t know why Vince’s dad didn’t recognize that he had a problem though.”

Harry glanced back at Vince, who was struggling with yet another sentence. Draco smiled up at him and helped him sound it out. For one frightening moment, Harry thought that Vince might yell at the small boy, but instead he just smiled back and pronounced the word correctly, moving on to the next one.

“Dyslexia is genetic,” Harry turned back to Greg. The look on Greg’s face was priceless. He was gape-mouthed in confusion. Harry hastened to explain. “It means he got it from someone in his family. Like how Draco’s dad has blonde hair, so he has blonde hair. Or my dad had bad eyesight, so I have bad eyesight.”

Greg nodded slowly. “So, Vince’s dad might not be able to read well either and so he wouldn’t know that Vince read that way too.”

Harry shrugged. “Or he knew and was too embarrassed about having it himself and passing it on to his son.”

Greg pulled a face. “Yeah, that’s probably more likely. So, is there anyway to fix this dilex…disalex…this whatever?”

“Dyslexia,” Harry supplied. “There are several muggle ways, but they’re really hard. There might be a spell. You should have Vince ask Madam Pomfrey.”

Greg looked scandalized. “Vince would never tell anyone else that he couldn’t read. He’s never do it.”

Harry looked back at the struggling Slytherin lying with Draco. ‘Maybe not for himself,” Harry agreed with a sly smile. “But he might do it for a certain someone who would dearly love for his friend Vince to teach him to read.”

A matching smirk came over Greg’s face. “Are you sure you’re not a Slytherin?” he whispered just before putting Harry in check. Four moves later and Harry was checkmated. He shook Greg’s hand wryly and turned to see how Vince and Draco were doing. A few sentences later and Vince was relievedly saying “The End.”

Draco hugged Vince in thanks and grabbed the bunny book that Harry had bought him that day. “Harry?” he looked hopefully over at the Gryffindor.

“I don’t know, pet,” Harry sighed. “I’m kind of tired.” Draco’s face fell and Harry didn’t have the heart to tease him any more. “Shove over, poppet,” he grinned, snatching the book out of Draco’s hand. “I was just playing.” Draco beamed at him and snuggled down into the blankets. With a gentle kiss to Draco’s head, Harry began.

“Little Nutbrown Hare, who was going to bed, held on tight to Big Nutbrown Hare’s very long ears. He wanted to be sure that Big Nutbrown Hare was listening. ‘Guess how much I love you,’ he said…’”

*~*~*~*~*~

“…Greg? Vince?” Harry whispered, once he was sure that Draco was finally asleep.

“Yeah?” came a reply from both sides of the bed.

“Did…when Draco was small…before, I mean…did he…did he have any problems using the toilet?” he eventually managed.

He heard rustling and in the dim moonlight saw Vince sit up. “You mean like did he wet the bed or his trousers?”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” more rustling and Greg sat up also. “He did change clothes an awful lot. Sometimes three or four times a day. Some of the other boys used to tease Draco about wetting his pants.”

“But Draco was always so stubborn saying that he didn’t do that kind of thing. He said the other boys were lying,” Vince continued.

“I don’t think it was entirely a lie,” Harry sighed.

“Has Draco been wetting his trousers?” Greg asked, the concern evident in his voice.

“Not…exactly,” Harry hedged.

“He crapping them then?” Vince asked.

Harry winced at the phrasing, but was unbelievably relieved that they cottoned on without a detailed explanation. “Yes. Dobby suggested today that it might not be just a case of playing too long before realizing he had to go,” he added. “I was just wondering if you two knew anything about what he might mean?”

“Nope.”

“Not a thing.”

“Okay,” Harry sighed again. “Well, if he does it tomorrow, I’m taking him to Madam Pomfrey. Is that all right with you two?”

Silence.

“Why are you asking us?” Greg inquired quietly. “You’re his guardian.”

“Yeah, but you’re his friends. You have his well-being in mind just as I do.”

Silence.

“Yeah, that’d be fine.”

Silence.

“Thank you, Potter.”