Fatherhood | drarry teen adoptive parents au

twenty nine | when heaven becomes hell

The first thing that struck Harry about Malfoy Manor, was the sheer prestige of the place.

Sure, it was hostile and arrogantly stark in its design, but he had to admit that in a cold sort of way, the place was beautiful. Marble arches, sharp tunnels and dark bay windows characterised the Manor, but it was softened by the early afternoon sun and the sprawling gardens that surrounded it.

Draco's favourite place to hide out when he was younger had always been his mother's pure white rose garden, and he lead Harry through it under the cover of the Cloak to get to the house.

"It smells heavenly," Harry breathed in wonder, and Draco forced a smile.

"It's my mother's favourite child," he said sarcastically.

"I can see why," Harry joked, and Draco jabbed him with a sharp elbow to the ribs. "This one's prettier. Smells better too."

"Might I remind you that you are a guest at the Manor now, Potter?" Draco asked in a contemptuous tone. "This isn't your little playground. Have some respect."

"Sorry, Lord Malfoy. Won't happen again."

The Malfoys had more space in the unused guest room that Draco and Harry would be sleeping in than the Dursleys had had in their whole house, Harry noted when they reached the East Wing.

The walls were high and dusk-blue, ornately trimmed, and decorated with gold-threaded tapestries and oil paintings. In the centre of the room was a wide four-poster bed with light drapes, and a pine desk and several couches filled the corners.

"It's a bit dusty," Draco said, rubbing the back of his neck with embarrassment as Harry gawped all around him. "We don't really use this side of the Manor. But you should have everything you need ... the en-suite is just through there..."

His voice tailed off awkwardly.

"Draco, I love it," Harry insisted. "And you've got Casper a new crib? It's very ornate!"

Draco followed Harry's gaze to the elaborately carved pinewood cot at the end of the king bed, and smiled sadly.

"That was mine when I was Cassy's age," he said. "I found it in the loft, I thought it was nice so I polished it up."

Harry's eyes welled up as he imagined a tiny baby Draco lying in the same crib as their son sixteen years on. "It's so beautiful," he breathed. "He deserves beautiful things."

"I found some of my old clothes too," Draco said, opening the drawer nearest the crib. Harry gasped. It was entirely filled with tiny outfits, each one delicate and beautiful and clearly worth a lot of money.

"Now I see why you're so spoilt," Harry joked. "Started from birth."

Draco couldn't argue with that. He knew he'd always been spoilt - although not always in the nice way. There are two ways one can spoil a child, he thought. You can treat them too extravagantly and give them a God complex, or you can treat them too badly and break them. I'm a rare mixture of both.

"How've you been, then, Casper J?" Harry asked, examining the little boy on his knee and pulling Draco out of his thoughts. "I can't wait till he can talk, Draco. Bet he's got such profound thoughts. I mean, look at his eyes."

"Nah, don't get your hopes up," Draco grinned, He poked Casper's dimples gently and the baby giggled with delight. "He's going to chat utter shit, aren't you, Cas?"

"He is not! He is very wise, and intelligent, and mature, and- oh, for goodness' sake, Cassy."

"He's just shit himself, hasn't he?"