55Chapter 35: R 1: Welcome to the world, Timothy Bond
Rape, part one: Welcome to the World, Timothy Bond
Harry was immensely glad that his Parallel Self had not had time to start his employment at Hogwarts, what with him converting to the Dark side and everything. And there would have been a great risk of someone finding out that he was not the real Harry, too.
He was also very glad that he had decided to postpone his start of employment at the school for two years, because he had really needed the time with his family. Instead, he had been doing minor businesses for the Order whilst Lupin held his position for him. So, thanks to a whole lot of luck, Harry had been able to go to Hogwarts with a clean conscience and take his rightful place as Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, still looking twenty thanks to the Infinity Potion.
The first night, he had felt really weird walking into the Great Hall through the side door together with the other teachers to take a seat at the staff table. Snape had not seemed all too pleased to see him, but Hagrid had been beside himself with pride and joy.
"I can' believe yeh made it and became teacher, Harry!" he had snivelled, and given Harry a friendly, but very hard, slap on the shoulder. "Dumbledore did the righ' thing hirin' yeh, I say. If there's anyone be'er than you at Defence Against the Dark Arts, I swear I'll eat my hat!"
"Er, Hagrid, you aren't wearing any hat," Harry had pointed out cautiously.
The great man had blotted his eyes with a handkerchief as big as a tablecloth. "I have one in me house," he had informed him. "Harry, I'm really proud o' yeh. Always knew yeh'd make it, always knew yeh'd become something."
Harry had been truly flattered to hear Hagrid speak so emotionally of him. "I'm glad to be back, too," he had said.
That was almost four months ago. Now Harry stood in his combined office and bedroom on the second floor, packing his trunk to go home for the Christmas holidays. Dumbledore had made him promise to stay at Hogwarts for his entire first term as teacher, and he had reluctantly sent Hedwig to Draco, telling him that he would not be coming home for a while.
The blonde had been furious, of course … Harry could still hear the Howler's fierce words echoing through his mind, and winced at the memory.
HOW DARE YOU LEAVE ME HERE FOR FOUR BLOODY MONTHS,
YOU BLOODY BASTARD?! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE
BY MY SIDE NOW—THIS IS YOUR BLOODY BABY, TOO!
YOU ARE COMPLETELY NEGLECTING YOUR CHILDREN, AND I WILL
SEE TO IT THAT YOU REGRET THIS FOR YEARS TO COME,
MARK MY WORDS!
That was the kind part of the letter.
Perhaps he would have coped better with it had he not been having dinner in the Great Hall at the arrival of the Howler. There had been no chance of him getting out of there and safely lock himself in an empty room before the red message exploded and began to shriek at him. It had been his second night at Hogwarts, and he yet to meet most of his students, which meant that most of the people present did not know that he had a husband and children back home.
So when a male voice magnified to a hundred times its original volume began to accuse him of neglecting him and not fulfilling his duties as father (and lover!), many students gasped in shock, but even more laughed at him. It had been torture to go to his classes the following morning.
He had felt really awkward standing before the fifth-year Ravenclaws, knowing that the questions would surely come, and they did long before he could even introduce himself.
"Who was that man howling at you?"
"Is it true that you're gay?"
"Trouble with the 'missus,' Professor? Is that why you're staying at Hogwarts rather than going home?"
"Are you really Harry Potter? That Harry Potter?"
He had had to send up red sparks from the end of his wand to quieten them. "Good morning, class," he had said when they finally fell silent and listened. "I can certainly see why you have all these questions, ehum … but first things first, all right? My name is Harry Ma—"
"You are Harry Potter?!" a girl had screamed from the back row, and they had all begun to mutter between themselves again.
He had held up his hand, saying, "Please, some silence! To answer your question—yes, I am Harry Potter, the Harry Potter. But I'm married now, and my name is Harry Malfoy. The man you heard yesterday at dinner was my husband—so, yes, I am gay, mind you. I'm married to Draco Malfoy, and we have two children together, a third on the way. That's why he was a bit … off."
He had had to explain his entire personal life that day to satisfy his new students' curiosity. And he had had to repeat the procedure every time he met a new class. He had been exhausted after the first week and earned himself a second Howler when he had forgotten to write Draco back for several days.
Now he was anxious to go home, and he would not let anything stop him. Once his trunk was loaded with all his belongings, he left his office and locked the door behind himself. He met Professors Binns and Flitwick on his way out to the carriage that would take him to Hogsmeade Station, but he did not stop to chat. He did not feel calm until he had attached his trunk to his Firebolt and was in the air.
It was safest for him to depart from the station rather than from the school grounds, because he had all too fresh in memory the incident with the flying car and the reproach Snape had given him and Ron for being seen by Muggles. He did not want to risk another ranting like that one, even though he was an adult and a teacher now. Snape still hated him—more passionately now than before.
Naturally, he had put several Muggle repelling spells and invisibility charms on himself and his luggage to avoid being spotted from the ground this time. Besides, his Firebolt was much faster than the train.
When he arrived at the Manor, everything was quiet. He sneaked into the house through the back door and carefully put down the trunk on the floor by the French windows. Then he began his search for the blonde. He could not believe that he had not seen him for almost four whole months, he must be huge compared to what he had been the last time Harry saw him!
An enormous Christmas tree had been brought in and put in the middle of the room, adorned with the most elegant and extravagant Christmas decorations one could imagine. All colours were represented in it, and you could clearly see which part had been decorated by Draco and which part had been decorated by the children. There was even a clear touch of Piper here and there.
The furniture in the room had been set around the tree to further point out that it was the most important part of the room at the time being.
But there was no sign of Draco.
Harry listened intently for some sort of sound that would betray his husband's whereabouts in the big house. After only a minute, he heard a low clinking in the kitchen followed by a muffled curse.
He stole out of the parlour and into the warm kitchen, where Draco apparently was busy cooking the Christmas dinner in advance, and he did not notice Harry arrive. With a mischievous smile playing on his lips, he decided to surprise him. Carefully, carefully he snuck up on him and put his arms around his waist from behind.
The blonde started slightly, but then he leant back into the embrace. "Welcome home, baby," he murmured happily.
Harry kissed him on the neck, just below his left ear. "Hello, gorgeous," he said, and without further ado moved his hands down over the blonde's semi-fat belly towards his crotch. Slowly, sensuously, he began to massage the blonde's groin, sensing an immediate change in him. He was wearing dark blue-grey trousers of some light fabric because of his pregnancy, so it was not hard for Harry to elicit a quick reaction from him. Up and down, up and down, lightly and teasingly brushing against his growing erection …
Draco leant his head back and let it rest on Harry's shoulder, their cheeks close together, and breathed heavily in Harry's ear. He squirmed in the raven-haired man's arms, his well-exercised muscles tensing in anticipation.
"Where're the others?" Harry asked in a low, hoarse voice.
A shudder passed through Draco's body as Harry worked his groin harder. "Haah … outside … snow," he managed to utter.
"Outside? I didn't see them when I flew in."
"Not here … Ron's …"
"Oh." Harry lifted one of his hands and put it inside the blonde's trousers.
Draco gasped loudly and made a few small, guttural, encouraging noises. When Harry took his erection in his hand, he cried out shortly. Clasping Harry with his left hand, he urged, "Harry … upstairs, please … take me upstairs … I've longed for you so much, I've been all alone here … I want you. I want you so bad. No sex in almost four months—it's been fucking killing me."
"I can imagine," Harry said in a teasing tone of voice, stroking the blonde determinedly.
Draco whimpered like a pup.
A door was slammed open.
"We're hooome!" Piper yelled from the parlour.
"Fuck," Draco moaned, disappointed. Aware that he needed to calm down fast before their children walked into the kitchen, he hastily pulled away from Harry, very reluctantly forcing him to withdraw his hand. His silver eyes said, "Later."
Harry hated having to postpone their re-joining, yet nodded silently. Oddly enough, he needed some readjustment to family life, and that saddened him. Had he really been away so long that he did not remember how to act around his children? It was as if he had missed three or four years of their lives, not three or four months.
James, seven years old—Joz, five years old. Unknown, minus five months.
Harry chuckled when he thought of their unborn baby as 'Unknown.'
Draco looked up at him over the kitchen counter with a quizzical glint in his pale eyes. "What?" he wondered without much curiosity.
"Nothing." Harry could not take his eyes off his lover's belly. Another life lied within that bump. It was amazing. Each time was just as amazing. A kind of nostalgic, bitter smile came to his lips when he came to yet another conclusion.
Draco was now regarding him with a worried wrinkle between his eyebrows. "You look sad, Harry," he observed. "Is there something on your mind? Should we go into the other room?"
But Harry just shook his head and laughed shortly. "No. I just realised that maybe I should stop thinking of you as my lover now. You're my husband, and to merely think of you as my lover seems a bit disrespectful, don't you think?"
Pale silver glimmered strangely, intriguingly. "It's not disrespectful," the blonde protested softly, tenderly, moving closer to him. "The word 'lover' has different meanings, Harry. It can simply be two people who love each other, and are we not just that? But if you only think of the meaning 'someone with whom you have sexual relations but aren't married to,' then I might just slap you."
He grinned widely, giving soul to the joke.
Harry laughed and shook his head anew, but for a completely different reason. "You're just something, Draco. I love you more every day, you know that? No, I don't think of 'lover' in that way. Although, I have to admit, it is a big upside to this relationship … never had better sex in my life."
Draco snorted. "Oh, please! As if you ever slept with anyone else!"
Piper watched them with an amused smile. "Boy, have I missed this," she said, rinsing the vegetables for that night's dinner. "Nothing's the same around here when you're away, Harry."
"So I've heard," he replied, and winked knowingly at the blonde as he stuffed a piece of red pepper in his mouth.
Draco blushed. He, too, remembered those Howlers very well.
He had written a long apology to Harry about three days after the second one arrived, and since then Harry had been able to take his meals in peace.
Fortunately, he adjusted quickly to the much slower life at the Manor—and to his marital duties. Once they were in bed together, it did not seem as if they had been apart for four months; it was as if they had never parted. Harry got no sleep at all that night, because he spent every minute of the dark hours pleasing all the needs that had grown within the blonde for all that time, and of course had his own needs satisfied, as well.
When he stepped down into the parlour on Christmas morning, he felt like a completely new man. Even though he had bathed for over an hour—something he could not do at Hogwarts without risking someone else walking in on him—Draco's scent was still on him, and he savoured it as he entered the chaotic room. All the children were on the floor in front of the Christmas tree, fighting over the presents.
Piper was watching them with cold amusement, something that seemed to have become her trademark. Now mother of five and pregnant with her and Yousuke's sixth child, she just became more and more self-centred and quietly gleeful for each year that passed. It was as if her Malfoy genes were constantly striving to win her over, and after so many years' of persistent struggle she was finally starting to give in.
And that was not all that was changing. Joz's behaviour had begun to deteriorate some time ago; she had started to use her immense powers on her brother and her cousins whenever she did not get her way. They grew up fearing her. Draco had denied it for a long time, but ultimately he had been forced to accept the fact that she was way too dangerous to have around the house. They had brought her back to St Mungo's about a year previously, and the Healers had put her on heavier medication potion. But they had been allowed to bring her home for Christmas.
Perhaps some time with her family would do her some good and restore some hope to her.
Harry felt as if he was gliding through the day, a pleasant warmth in his heart always. He watched Draco in his everyday chores, because he was not allowed to help. He felt almost like a guest in his own house, a strange and unsettling feeling. Yet, he cherished every moment of it.
Just getting to watch Draco like that … how he moved with such ease and elegance … Maybe that was why the blonde would not let him help; maybe he wanted Harry to watch, to appreciate, to yearn, and ultimately to desire him.
Yes, that was probably Draco's scheme. The blonde knew all too well what a day of observation did to Harry. He could already feel that growing burning in his loins. He could not believe how happy he was to have such a sexy husband …
At six, their guests arrived. Ron and Jonathan being the first, hand in hand as always. Shortly thereafter, Lupin joined them. By six thirty, all but one were gathered around the dinner table; Ginny had sent an owl saying she would arrive a little later than expected. Something had come up.
When she did arrive, Harry stopped in his eating, staring in open shock and disbelief. She was … pregnant. But he had heard nothing about a partner! How long …?
As she took a seat between Draco and James, Harry heard himself ask, "Whoever knocked you up?"
Mouth full of mashed potatoes, Jonathan cheerfully raised his arm into the air. "I did!" he announced merrily.
Harry stared at him drop-jawed. Then he stared at Ginny. Then at Ron. And back to Jonathan. "What? How could you let that happen?!" His accusing question was directed at Ron.
Ron just shrugged. "I was there when it happened," he said, as if that would calm Harry.
"You were there? Are you out of your mind? Are you all insane? You—you—you were watching your own sister …?" He could not even finish that question.
Suddenly, they were all laughing at him, and he could not for the world understand why.
"What is so bloody funny?!" he demanded indignantly.
"You are!" Jonathan whimpered, holding his hands to his stomach.
"You should see your face!" Ron interjected.
Draco put his hand over Harry's over the table. "Baby, I'm sorry, I forgot to tell you. Ron and Jonathan decided they wanted to have children, and Ginny volunteered as their surrogate mother. She was inseminated with Jonathan's sperm at St Mungo's the day you went to Hogwarts. I'm sorry, babe, I should've told you much sooner. It just never crossed my mind since you weren't here."
That had probably been the greatest shock of Harry's life. So far.
But he was quite shocked on Boxing Day, too. Draco had decided—without consulting him about it first—to visit the Dursleys. "They're your family, Harry," he had argued, "and you should appreciate them. I killed all of my family, but your aunt and uncle and cousin are still alive. Our children have a right to know their family."
"You're not seriously considering taking Joz, are you?" Harry asked when Draco had finally managed to persuade him into coming.
"Why not?"
"She set fire to the dining room table this morning! Isn't that a sign she should be brought back to St Mungo's?"
"She didn't do it on purpose …"
"No? Then how come she was laughing and trying to throw Natsumi into the fire, huh?"
Draco snorted. "Natsumi should be able to defend herself …"
"She's 13 months old!" Harry exclaimed exasperatedly.
"So? Isn't she the spawn of Devil Piper? I wouldn't be surprised if she taught her children advanced magic from the cradle …"
They spent three (to Harry) awkward hours at the Dursleys' in Little Winging (Joz did not come) during which Draco ogled the television most of the time. He would probably have stayed much longer if Harry had not forced him to go back home with him.
It was quite amazing that they had managed not to use any magic at all during the visit, though. James had been perfectly polite and given Petunia all of his attention as he listened interestedly to the gossip of the neighbourhood. He had even feigned fascination when she decided to instruct him in the fine art of gardening. She seemed to have taken quite a liking to the boy, and waved merrily as they departed.
"I want a TV," Draco announced when they were back at the Manor. "How do you buy one?"
Harry laughed scornfully at him. "We are not getting a TV," he protested firmly.
But the blonde did not seem to have heard. "I wonder if thirty Galleons would be enough to get a decent one?" He turned to Harry. "Or are they expensive?"
"Well, that depends on the size of the set, and the … Wait a minute! We are not getting a TV, so you might as well stop counting your assets, Dracums."
"Why not?" the blonde pouted. "It's not like I would watch it all day …"
"Yeah, you would! I had to prise you from the sofa at the Dursleys, and that was proof enough for me. There will be no TV in my house. We don't even have electricity."
"What's eckeltricity?" Draco blinked in confusion.
"E-L-E-C-T-R-I-C-I-T-Y," Harry corrected him, annoyed. "It's the Muggles' substitute for magic. It's a sort of current that runs through wires all through their houses so that they can use their machines. If they didn't have electricity, their lamps wouldn't work, they would only have fireplaces and candles."
"Really?"
The blonde kept nagging about getting a TV for the entire Christmas holiday until Harry was so annoyed with him that he gave in. But he did not take Draco to the store with him, because he would probably have asked too many suspicious questions about 'eckeltricity' and 'wipers' (wires) and 'namestreams' (mainstream).
Fortunately, Draco kept his promise and did not watch as much TV as Harry had first dreaded he would. Unfortunately, Harry was not able to keep his own promise …
"You have to stay?" Draco howled furiously when Harry had read the letter from Dumbledore aloud the day before he would return to Hogwarts for the Spring term. Harry squirmed before him, apparently uncomfortable and ashamed. Well, he should be! Draco thought. "You're not coming back home for six bloody months?!"
Harry tried to defend himself best he could. "Please, Dracums, don't kill the messenger here!" he begged, holding out his hands in front of his face as the blonde threateningly raised his fists. "I had no say in this—it was Dumbledore's decision! I'll talk to him as soon as I get back there, I'll even write to him right away, and I will make him take that order back, I promise!"
Draco shoved him away, and tears were glimmering in his livid eyes. "You bastard! I thought you had learnt your responsibilities by now, but no! You're still going back to that bloody school to teach those bloody brats and leave me alone with your own bloody kids! What about me, huh? What about my feelings? Did you ever stop to think about me when you decided to take that job? Huh? Fuck you, Harry! Fuck you!"
He turned on his heel and ran off, loud sobs escaping his throat.
Harry followed in panic. It was extremely difficult to deal with Draco when he was in that mood; his pregnancy made him oversensitive and overly vulnerable. At most times, Harry had no idea how to deal with him at all. The blonde was either furious with him or cried his eyes out, accusing him of this and that. Or both—like now. Those were three of Draco's four basic Pregnancy Moods; the fourth was his unusual sexual hunger.
"Dracums! Stop! Wait! We need to talk about this, so don't just run away like that! Running away will solve nothing!" he shouted after the blonde, all in vain because he did not stop. "Dracums!"
He caught up with him outside the study on the second floor and clasped his arms around him, forcing him to stop lest he take them both down.
The blonde's ragged sobbing and snivelling broke his heart in half. Draco's pain was his pain.
"Dracums, please just listen to me. I don't want to stay at Hogwarts throughout the school year, and I won't. I know that the teachers are supposed to stay and maintain the order, but there are loads of teachers there already. They don't need me. I'll come home to you, baby, I'll come home to you," he whispered soothingly in the blonde's ear.
"Liar," Draco accused weakly. "You won't be coming home if he says you'll have to stay. I know you won't, 'cos all you want is to please Dumbledore. He hired you especially to function as some sort of spy for the Order—he hired you to protect Hogwarts from the Death Eaters, so don't you think it's safe to say that you'll have to stay all year round?"
Harry could not find any reply to that. He knew Draco was right. Yes, he had promised Dumbledore to protect the school because it was one of the most important wizard facilities in the country.
"You're fucking leaving me alone again … will you even be here when your son is born? Will you? Because I'm already more than four months along, and this baby isn't gonna bloody stay in me for six more!"
Harry felt a sting of guilt. He would miss everything. He had already missed out on four months of his baby's life—how much more would he allow Dumbledore and the Order to take from him? From his family? Did they not have the right to claim him first?
"Bastard …"
The blonde had stopped struggling in his grip, but only because he was too weak to continue.
"Draco … I'm sorry. I had no idea he would do this. Maybe if I asked him to expand my personal quarters—"
Draco violently broke free of him, suddenly strong with wrath again. "You insensitive piece of elephant shit! Do you really think that'll make everything right again? We can't come live with you at Hogwarts, you idiot! Are you crazy or just stupid?"
"I'm in love," Harry heard himself reply, and then swiftly changed to 'stupid'.
The blonde snorted and stormed off, but this time Harry did not attempt to follow him. He just watched his back disappear around the corner in the hallway and wondered what he could do to make this right. He seemed only to be capable of making mistakes, never to correct them.
Tomorrow he would have to return to Hogwarts, and he knew that he would be leaving a furious and betrayed Draco behind. If another Howler arrived just in time to welcome him back to his office, he would not be surprised.
Draco would not let him sleep in their bed that night. Harry shuffled over to the guestroom with drooping ears. He felt awful the following morning, and Draco did not even come out to say goodbye. To his puzzlement, he did not receive any Howlers, though.
He did speak to Dumbledore the first thing he did once he got back, but as Draco had predicted he would not let him go home for the nights. "In a month or two I can grant you the weekends with your family, Harry, but no more than that. That is a sacrifice you will have to make for the Order."
In that moment, Harry hated the old bastard. But he never spoke aloud of those feelings. He wrote to Draco and James every day, most often several times a day, as soon as he had a moment to himself. He never received any replies.
When the two months had finally passed, Harry went to see Dumbledore again to press him on the matter. But the Headmaster still would not allow him his weekends at home. Harry became so furious that he shouted out everything he had ever held against Dumbledore without the slightest bit of remorse or shame.
"If you don't give me some time together with my family now and then, I will bloody quit this shitty job, because it's not worth it! They have the right to see me now and then! My own children won't know me if this continues! One of these days I'll come home only to be greeted by wariness and estrangement. Is that what you want to create? You want to make me a stranger to my own children? And what about my husband? He's six months pregnant, and I haven't been there for him at all! I'm getting bloody tired of this! I am going home, Dumbledore, I am. I don't need your permission to sleep in my own bed," he finished, and left the tower office with determined strides.
Dumbledore said nothing and did nothing to stop him when he went home late that Friday afternoon when classes ended to spend the weekend with Draco, James, and their still unnamed new baby.
The blonde was very surprised to see him. "What are you doing here?" he asked in puzzlement.
Harry hurried up to him and threw his arms around him. Tears came to his eyes and began to stream down his cheeks when he felt the blonde's huge belly press against his. "I am so sorry, Dracums, I am so sorry I've been neglecting you," he snivelled unhappily, his face buried in his husband's thick, silver hair. "I hate being away from you, and when I didn't receive any answers to my letters I became worried that you'd never forgive me for it."
Draco slowly raised his hands and put them on Harry's back. "I've been too angry to write you," he said truthfully. "I didn't want to embarrass you in front of your students again."
Harry was surprised by his thoughtfulness. "But you should've," he objected. "I don't care if they all hate me, they're just brats. I just don't want you to hate me, Draco. I love you."
"I love you, too, Harry," the blonde said, and pressed closer into the embrace. "Will you stay tonight?"
Harry chuckled bitterly. "Hell, yeah! Nothing can make me leave you now. I will stay with you now, all throughout the pregnancy. I don't care what Dumbledore and the other teachers think, I won't miss another minute. I've already missed two thirds of this important time, six months during which I should've been here to support you. I'm supposed to be your husband, and what could I give you? Two weeks. And that was just because it was the holidays."
Draco patted his cheek. "Shhh. Don't fret about it. It's all in the past now. But I won't let you shirk your work just because you feel a little guilty. I will come with you instead, like you said. We should be together, yes, but those 'brats' need you, too. James and I will come with you and stay with you in your tiny apartment for the remainder of the pregnancy, then you can decide whether you want to keep your position there or not."
Harry let go of him to look at him halfway through his offer. Now he searched for something true in his eyes. "Are you serious? You'll leave the Manor and come with me? For real?"
The blonde smiled at him and gave him a small, playful slap on the side of his face. "Of course I will. If you come all the way here against Dumbledore's will, risking your job just to tell me that you love me, I'll more than happily go with you. But not until Sunday, okay? This weekend will be ours, and it will be special. I will make it special for you. And on Monday, you can proudly show those brats your very pregnant husband."
He leant in for the sweetest kiss that Harry had experienced in an entire year.
Boy, did people get shocked when they walked through the corridors that Monday morning! Draco, with his huge belly, just grinned mockingly at the passing students and said, "What are you looking at? Never seen a pregnant bloke before?"
He basked in their attention and their stares. And all the while, he held Harry's hand firmly in his, proudly displaying the fact that they were wed. James trotted along at their side, fascinatedly glaring at everything and everyone.
Ironically, Snape was the first teacher they stumbled across around a corner. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw them. Then he collected himself. "Bringing the whole family today, are we, Potter? I had no idea this was Family Day …"
"First of all, it's Malfoy," Harry corrected him solemnly, "and second of all, you should take another look at Draco. Notice any difference?"
Snape pretended to size the blonde up before tutting sarcastically. "My, my … Looks to me like he's quite big with child—again."
"Gee, even you could see that? Congratulations, Professor Snape, dear colleague. Then you might also be able to understand that this is a quite critical time for us as a family. I need to be with them, but I am also sworn to this school and another little community that Dumbledore runs, as you may recall. Draco needs me, and I need to be there for him. Since I cannot be at home with him, he will have to be at Hogwarts with me. Oh, don't worry," he hastily said before Snape could utter the words he had on his tongue, "they won't be attending my classes every day, just today. James wanted to see what I do for a living, and I thought it best to introduce Draco properly before any rumours started. That's why I'm going to announce his staying here at dinner tonight, when all are gathered. Now, if you'll excuse us, we have a lesson to go to."
They pushed past him before he could present any other protests.
The students accepted Draco's presence at the school rather quickly; most of them thought it was kind of cool to have Professor Malfoy's husband there, especially when he told them stories about all the Death Eaters he had killed. Harry worked every day, as promised to Dumbledore, except for the day that Draco gave birth to the baby boy that would eventually grow up to be the blond boy they had known for so many years.
They decided to stay at Hogwarts for the remainder of the summer term and go home together with Harry rather than leaving him there for the last three weeks. They proudly showed their new son to everyone who wished to see him, but they did not yet have a name for him. For now, they simply called him 'our boy' or 'little one' or 'sweetie,' but eventually they would have to find him a suitable name.
They had an epiphany one night when they were back at the Manor, all watching an old James Bond movie on the TV that Draco so loved. Harry had bewitched it so that it would not need electricity to function. All of a sudden, James began to jump up and down in his seat, pointing at the TV screen. "How about naming him after him? He's so cool!"
Harry and Draco exchanged knowing looks. "But we already named you James," Harry objected. "We can't have two sons called James—that'd be confusing."
The boy became still. "Oh. You're right."
They kept watching for ten minutes or so.
"But how about Timothy, then?" Draco asked out of the blue, his eyes on Harry.
Harry met his silver eyes in amazement. "Why?" he wondered.
The blonde shrugged. "Because it's Timothy Dalton playing James Bond in this movie, so in a way we would still be naming him after Bond, wouldn't we?"
And then it hit them both at the same time.
"Timothy," Draco said numbly. "Tim."
"Bond," Harry said only a second thereafter.
"Yeah! Let's name him Bond!" James exclaimed, starting to jump up and down again. "That's a cool name! Bond Malfoy. Or maybe Malfoy Bond?" He laughed boyishly, pleased with his wittiness.
Close to.
"How about Timothy Bond Malfoy?" Harry asked the boy.
James peered down at the baby in Draco's lap. After a moment's grave consideration, he nodded solemnly. "Yeah, he looks like a Timothy Bond alright!" he announced, and his parents laughed at him.
Timothy grew quickly. Suddenly, he was already two years old. Unlike other small children, he had an awareness of the world around him that was astonishing. He was frighteningly smart, and he did not try to hide the fact that he was different from his siblings. He told them plain out what he was on his second birthday, long before Harry and Draco had even expected him to know about his destiny himself.
But he knew, alright.
"I'm a Time Manipulator," he said in his brittle boy's voice, "I travel through time."
Turned out he could already open the portal, and that scared Harry. Even though he had seen the boy at the age of sixteen so many times he could not count them, he still got worried that something bad might happen to him if he messed too much with time travelling before he was physically mature for it.
"Don't worry, Harry," Timothy said soberly, "I have everything under control. My future self will see to my survival, you be so sure."
Harry frowned. "Your future self? But how can he do that when you haven't grown up yet?"
"One of life's many paradoxes. Even though he travels back in time to his own childhood and changes certain events long after he was my age, it will still happen in my time."
Harry did not understand a word of what Timothy had just said, and he thought it was kind of creepy to hear his son talking about himself in the third person, so he did not ask again.
When James learnt of Timothy's special abilities, he asked his younger brother to teach him to open the time portal. Timothy refused and argued that it was a power reserved for Time Manipulators and Time Manipulators only.
"Why?" James demanded indignantly. "Don't you think I will be able to manage it? You've seen me travel through time yourself—that's what I do when I hiccup! So why can't you teach me to open the portal? Then I would be able to travel through time and actually choose where to go instead of just winding up at some random place I've never been."
But Timothy was firm on his point. "It's not for regular wizards to know, not even for one who can travel through time by hiccoughing."
James was livid with him, but it did not last long, thank Merlin.
Harry kept his job as Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, but from his second year of teaching and onwards, he was allowed to spend his weekends at home with his family. In the future, he hoped to get permission to go home every night, as had originally been suggested to him, but which had only turned out to be a way for Dumbledore to lure him into accepting the position.
He soon discovered that he liked teaching quite a deal, and he liked helping his students. It seemed a noble profession.
Next time Tim visited them from the future, he was not alone. By his side was a pretty, dark-haired boy the same age as he, and Harry recognised him instantly. "You were the one asking for The Other!" he said in bafflement, and openly pointed at the strange boy.
He laughed. "Yeah, I was. Nice to meet you again, Mr Malfoy. I found him shortly after I'd spoken to you," he informed him with his thick American accent.
"Good for you," Harry said with honesty, and then he noticed that the two boys were holding hands. "Wait … Is our Timothy that 'Other' you've been searching for?"
"That is correct, father," future Timothy told him with a vague smile. "We've finally found each other. We're soul mates."
"The other Time Manipulator," Harry stated as he finally understood how it must be.
Both boys nodded.
"My name is Jonas," The Other introduced himself, shaking Harry's hand firmly, "and I guess I'm your son-in-law-to-be."
Future Timothy explained that introducing Jonas to them much sooner than had originally been intended (the day Jonas came to the Manor looking for Timothy fourteen years into the future) may ensure a future much changed from the one he had seen and grown up in. His deepest wish was to change a certain event that had changed everything and made the world a dark place to live in—an event that had ultimately resulted in the Death Eater war—but he would not tell them what that event was. Only that he was set on preventing it from ever occurring.
Seeing young Timothy and his much older, future self together was both amusing and strangely satisfying. Seeing them talk to each other like old friends as if they were not at all the same person was merely weird and unnerving. Harry tried not to think of it.
2016, the year James went to Hogwarts, something incredible happened. Draco had been feeling queasy for some time and immediately recognised the symptoms with all his previous experience in the field. He went straight to Piper. "Could I borrow your Priberty Measurer, please?" he asked her casually.
She blinked up at him in astonishment. "What? You been stealing from my potion storage, Drakie-poops?"
"No, we haven't been stealing anything, and don't act so innocent. You know what you've done, and so do I. I just wish to confirm it before I tell Harry about it."
She was completely taken aback. "But I haven't given you any potion!" she objected indignantly. "I haven't once tried to butt in! I've stayed out of your business for several years!"
"I don't believe you, you deceiving, wicked wench. Now give me the Priberty Measurer."
She gave it to him. And sure, when he blew into it the green lamp began to glow. Piper stared at it in shock and disbelief. "But I haven't! I promise you, I haven't! But how is that possible?"
He winced at her. "Perhaps you've made it too good, dear sister. Perhaps the effect has stayed with me and I will be at a constant risk of getting pregnant because of your creating artificial organs within me. I'm with child—again—and Harry and I obviously did it ourselves this time. Odd."