Fatherhood | drarry teen adoptive parents au

thirty three | what's a postbox

There was nothing comparable to the feeling of elation Harry felt waking up beside Draco in the treetop house later that day as the late-morning light streamed pinkly in through the curtains.

They'd done it; they'd got away safely, and apparently to paradise.

Casper, who had also been asleep for the past couple of hours, was now upset at having been left and was wailing for his parents' attention in the little makeshift crib they'd constructed at the end of their bed.

"Shhh, shh, little angry boy," whispered Harry sleepily, padding over to the cot in his bare feet. "Daddy's here, silly. Look at you."

At the sound of his voice, the baby quieted down, but threw his little arms eagerly up over his head to be picked up.

"I've got you," Harry sighed, scooping him up and cradling him lovingly. "Gosh, you're getting to be a heavy boy, Casper James. Let's give you to Daddy to wake him up, shall we?"

Still half-asleep, Draco heard this, and instinctively rolled onto his back with his arms open wide for their baby. "I'm awake! Give him here," he mumbled, and Harry obliged.

While Draco had the baby, Harry decided to wander through to the big farmhouse style kitchen to see what they'd be working with for breakfast. As expected, there was no food - Draco had told him the house hadn't been used in years - but there were plenty of shiny copper pans hanging up, and knives and chopping boards, and whatever else you could possibly need.

"Draco, how are we going to get food?" Harry called through to the bedroom.

"There's a little Muggle town not too far from here that I could fly to if I'm careful," Draco called back. There was a pause. "Shit, Harry! Shit! Do you have any Muggle money?"

Harry checked his pockets, then hurried through to the bedroom to check the pockets of his spare trousers. "I have a £20 note," he said awkwardly. "And about £4 in coins. That's barely enough for a week."

"Fuck," Draco groaned, leaping out of bed in just his boxers. Casper was left gurgling happily to himself under the warm blankets, oblivious as ever to the worry his fathers were displaying.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, Harry. What are we going to do?"

"We could get enough stuff for a couple of days now and then fly to London after a decent sleep tonight?" Harry suggested. "Gringotts will let us take out as much as we need and we can convert it to Muggle money straight away too."

"Or...." Draco said suggestively, playing with the corner of the Invisibility Cloak.

"Draco, we are not stealing."

"Fine," Draco sighed. "It is dangerous to go to London, though, surely?"

Harry looked at their son, still giggling away in their bed. "It is incredibly dangerous. But CJ needs formula," he said. "We have to provide for him."

"Fine," Draco said again. "But both you and he are staying here. I won't put you in danger."

"Draco, no!" said Harry, aghast. "As if I'd let you go with all these people looking for you - for once, I'm less in demand than you are. So I'll go."

"Harry, you're probably the most recognisable wizard in the entire world, I think I'll go-"

"Oh yeah, and you really blend in with your Malfoy hair and your outfits that cost more than most people's mortgage, don't you, Draco?"

"Do you think you stop your iconic Chosen One God-complex act for one fucking minute of your life?"

It seemed they were never going to reach an agreement, as each was every bit as stubborn and in love as the other, and eventually they decided just to stop bickering, get dressed, and walk to the nearby town for provisions with Casper.