Chapter 7

Harry stood, arms crossed, watching the third-year cleaning his classroom floor with scrub brush and bucket. He'd started out the detentions fairly easy on the boy, intending to allow for his youth and possible poor parental influence. Draco had been a right prat at that age, after all, but mostly just parroting his father's prejudices. Graham Morgan was a half-blood with one Muggle-born and one Muggle parent. It hadn't stopped the boy from being as arrogant – perhaps more so – than Draco at his worst.

The boy had been foolish enough to expect Harry Potter to go easy on him, in light of both having Muggle-born mothers. He'd been wrong, and the resentment that rolled off the boy as he completed this detention was almost tangible. The first night Harry truly had gone light, figuring having a detention the first day of classes was rough on any teenager. But when that one had ended, young Morgan's insistence he'd done nothing wrong in taunting a child four years younger had raised his professor's hackles.

The detentions were currently a month's worth of Monday, Wednesday, Friday detentions, to give the boy time to complete his homework. But if things kept on the current path, Harry had a feeling he'd be seeing the boy for a true month's worth of detentions. He'd have the cleanest classroom in the castle at this rate.

"You're done for tonight, Mr. Morgan," Harry said at last. The boy had cleaned all the desks of what little had accumulated during the week and gotten the floor shiny clean. His first week of detentions had taught him not to try to shirk on his work when he'd been made to redo anything he slacked on and been threatened with a Saturday detention with the castle caretaker added to his punishment.

The boy shoved his dark fringe back and shot his professor a resentful look as Harry banished the dirty water and sent the bucket and brush back to their storage place. He stood there, shifting from foot to foot, waiting tensely for a dismissal.

Although he knew the Headmaster had already gone over this with the boy, Harry couldn't help trying to talk sense into him. "Do you have a problem with Miss Malfoy personally or just anyone different from you?" he asked.

Morgan shrugged. "My father says it's just punishment, her being a Squib."

Harry frowned. "I'm not sure I'd care to agree with anyone who thought a child should be punished for what a parent or grandparent had done or that being a Squib is a punishment. Is there something wrong with your father or grandparents that they lack magic? They're not any different than Miss Malfoy in that aspect."

"They were born like their parents."

The sheer stupidity of that logic made Harry want to shake some sense into the boy. "Yet your mother wasn't. By the logic you're giving me, your mother is being punished for something her parents did wrong, as they birthed a child so different from themselves. Or is your father being punished because he married someone different from himself and had a magical child?"

If the boy scowled any harder, Harry thought his eyebrows might meet his lips. "That's different!"

"How so? Miss Malfoy appears to be a rather sweet, well-raised child. Although I must say, you're doing a good imitation of the behavior of the pureblood prats I went to school here with. Is that what you want to be compared to? You're certainly spouting the same sort of filth some of the children of Death Eaters did to me and others like me."

"Her father was a Death Eater!"

"And if you'd bothered to pay attention in History of Magic, Mr. Morgan, you'd know that I testified for the man at his trial. What would you have done if someone held your mother captive and swore they'd kill both of you if you didn't join up?"

"I'd have died first, and she'd have wanted the same!" The heat in the youth's voice would have been amusing, had the topic not been so serious.

"Easy enough to say when you're not face-to-face with one of the most evil men ever to grace our world." Harry uncrossed his arms and moved to stand directly in front of the boy. "And regardless of his choices, the end result is that Professor Malfoy saved my life. Without his aid, Voldemort might still live."

Morgan grimaced and Harry sighed, realizing he was wasting his time. "You can go to dinner now. I'll see you after classes on Monday for your next detention. I'll be perfectly clear with you. If I even so much as hear a whisper of you bullying any child in this castle for being different than yourself in any way, I will make sure you serve detention until the end of term. Understood?"

The teenager gave a jerky nod of his head and fled the classroom, leaving Harry to seek his chair. He buried his face in his hands with a groan.

"He's still being a little berk?"

Green eyes met grey as Harry looked up at the newcomer to his classroom. "If I hear a sentence start out with the words 'my father' from him again, I might regress to third year myself and hex the boy," he admitted.

"Giving you flashbacks to my own rash youth, then?"

"And then some. I'd like to think he's the exception in his prejudice, but I know better. Has Allie had any more trouble out of him or other bullies since term started?"

Draco shook his head. "None so far, but it's early yet. I think it'll help she's been seen with you and that Richard's known to be yours. No one wants to risk your wrath by doing something in front of your child's nanny."

Harry snorted in derision at the thought. He sighed and began to gather up the scrolls and Muggle exercise books students had turned in today and stuffed them in his bag. "Did you need me for anything?"

The other man hesitated before bringing a newspaper out and handing it to Harry. "Tomorrow's Daily Prophet. Father still has contacts there, so someone owled him this earlier today."

Taking the paper, Harry wasn't sure he wanted to look. It had to involve him if Lucius had found it urgent enough to send along. Reminding himself he'd faced down a Dark Lord multiple times, he unfolded the paper and sighed.

A photo of him, obviously from the Welcoming Feast, showed him shaking his head as he listened intently to Neville and then clapping. When he thought back to the Sorting, he wondered if someone had snapped the picture when he and Neville had been discussing what Houses the three young Weasleys would be sorted into. He'd won the bet, surprising considering how long he'd lived abroad. But he'd heard enough family stories to know that Percy's daughter Molly was a sure shot for Hufflepuff, and he had a strong guess that Ginny's daughter Abigail would follow. Victoire Weasley was so obviously a Ravenclaw that the Hat hadn't even settled on her head, reminding Harry of Draco's sorting.

Some idiot at the Prophet had put a new spin on things, one Harry had dreaded, yet expected.

"Once-Jilted Harry Potter Sees Lover's Child Sorted. I swear, do they drop the reporters on their heads in the gutters there? Of course I saw Abigail sorted. I'd have to be blind to have missed the child, MacMillan surname or not!"

Draco laughed. "I suppose you were expecting something like this then?"

Harry nodded. "It was inevitable, with me returning to Britain the year Ginny's daughter started Hogwarts. Maybe it'll blow over quickly, once everyone realizes there's no bad blood between Ginny and me."

"Depends, you know. I'm surprised they haven't run some sort of poor widower piece on you already."

Wadding up the newspaper and tossing it in the air, Harry sent an Incendio at the offending wad of paper. "Considering only close friends and family truly knew for sure I was back before the Welcoming Feast, I figure that'll be the next round," he admitted.

"Perhaps you should control the publicity? Give them an interview or two or give Luna's father an exclusive just to rub it in their faces that you won't deal with the Prophet?"

"There's a thought." Harry flashed Draco a grateful smile, liking that he got a warm, pleased smile in return from the other man. "I'll ask her at dinner. I can't beat the Prophet's trash to press, but at least I can get something out there officially."

"The paper's not the only reason I came. Father also thinks he's found someone who might be useful to you to train as Richard's tutor. I think Allie's babbled so much about the baby in her letters that she's recruited him to help out."

"That's something that Mr. Morgan would never believe," Harry said in amusement.

"His loss, if he's insisting on being daft. The man's a Squib from a family that was pretty much neutral in both wars. Not the sort of family that worried about having a Squib in the family so he's attended good Muggle schools. He just doesn't have the funds to continue his education."

"Ask your father to set up a meeting then. I'd like to at least have a chat with him."

"I'll let him know. Are you up for a dinner at the Manor? I know Mother would love to play hostess to you and meet the baby Allie's raving about."

"Sounds good to me, as long as it's on a weekend. I don't want to be rushed because of class the next day." Shoving the last of the homework into his bag with a grimace and shouldering it, Harry led the way to the door. "I've enough headaches marking all these assignments."

Draco laughed. "You're the professor, Harry. Just remember when you assign homework, you're stuck with marking it!"

"It's the best way to figure out where the students are, assigning essays. The last professor was mostly competent, but I hate that Severus got saddled with a wizard raised professor. I almost wonder if the two classes are better separate than linked." He sighed as they made their way down the corridor. "I'm not exactly expert on the wizarding side of things. I've read about the traditions and all, but they don't always make sense."

"We can always mark papers in the evenings together, if you like. I can give the Wizarding Studies ones a look over."

"Sure you don't mind? That's giving up a lot of your free time to help me out."

"Free time?" The blond wizard chuckled. "I don't think you've had time to notice, Harry, but I spend almost all my free time with my daughter. She's certainly not going to object to hanging about your quarters after dinner."

"I wasn't sure if you were dating or something like that."

"Not bloody likely. One marriage was plenty for me. I'm not looking for someone just out for the name or fortune, and that's all most want."

Harry sighed, glancing at the man he was beginning to see as a friend. "I'd have figured Lucius would be after you to remarry, considering..."

"The first try was such an unmitigated disaster that he says he's staying out of it. He's spent the last three years trying to find loopholes in the Malfoy inheritance requirements to allow for an adopted heir or a female one, if Allie somehow shows magic."

"She can't inherit otherwise?"

"She can inherit a large sum of money, yes, and some of the family properties, since there are dowry and purchased properties that aren't entailed to a male Heir of Malfoy blood. But the magics on the Manor especially are so deeply inlaid they require a wizard to inherit them."

"Bit stupid of your ancestors to require a male heir of the blood."

"Yeah. At least the Blacks had a failsafe of inheritance through the distaff line."

"Distaff? I thought it was me being Sirius' godson?"

Draco shook his head. "You've never given that family tapestry at Grimmauld a study, have you?"

"No. Should I?"

"You should. You're a Black yourself, closer than me actually if you're looking at distaff lines. Your Potter grandmother was a Black, aunt to Sirius' mother and my grandfather."

"Oh. And all these years I've felt rather odd for having the Black fortune and properties." Harry looked thoughtful as they reached his quarters, not really minding as Draco followed him inside. He tossed his bag on the sofa and turned to the other wizard. "By those rules, then I guess that means you'd be the next in line, yeah? Since Teddy's further down the family tree?"

"That depends on whether or not Richard is a wizard, since his disability doesn't matter for the magical inheritance, just that he's a wizard. As for me, I'm not entirely certain. I think you'd have to restore Aunt Andie to the Black family officially for Teddy to be legally able to inherit anything entailed. And I'd have to check Mother's marriage contract. I wouldn't be surprised if it disavows a claim by the actual Malfoy heir. The Blacks wouldn't have wanted to be absorbed into the Malfoys, even if they liked a marriage alliance with them."

"Ugh. It's all too complicated for my liking."

"That's why Father's been digging around for loopholes. He's smart enough to admit that the family inheritance requirements are too restrictive. It's one thing to require a magical heir when the properties themselves are so deeply magical they can't be controlled by a Squib, but basing it on gender too is just asking to have the places abandoned."

"I wonder how many of those there are now, abandoned magical homes that no one can access anymore because the families died out in the wars," Harry said thoughtfully. "I should find out which of the Potter properties, if any, are entailed to a magical heir, and whether or not an adopted heir is allowed. My will has Teddy as my heir, as my godson, after Richard, but I hadn't thought about Andie being disinherited, since Sirius was, but still inherited."

Draco snorted. "Aunt Walburga might have burned him off that tapestry, but I guarantee you he wasn't truly disinherited or else his brother or father restored him in regret later. Grimmauld Place would have closed itself up until an acceptable magical male heir turned up otherwise. Besides, you might have other children."

"Perhaps. But I'd rather know all the details and not feel quite as ignorant about wizarding law and such. There's no guarantee I'll find someone again, or that I'll have magical children at that."

"Harry, you're probably the most powerful wizard in Britain. I know Richard's mother's Muggle so maybe that's got you concerned, but honestly, the odds have got to be really low that your children would be Squibs."

That earned him a soft smile from Harry who took down the picture of himself with Jessie and Jamie. "Do you know why Richard's mother is a Muggle?" he asked softly, turning to watch him closely.

"I just assumed you were living Muggle and fell in love with her?" Draco sounded completely puzzled by the question.

"Close. I met her because I was working as a teacher in a Muggle school, yeah. But I wasn't married to his mother, Draco. I was married to her brother. Jamie just agreed to be our surrogate, so the baby would have both our genes. The Muggles can manage that sort of thing with technology."

"Oh. You're gay then?"

Looking for any sign of repulsion and not finding any, Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He'd not wanted to ruin the burgeoning friendship with Draco. He hadn't seen the sort of prejudice in the wizarding world against homosexuality that he'd seen in the Muggle one, but he'd been known to miss pretty big cultural clues before. "Yeah. Women don't interest me in the least."

"So all the fuss about you and the youngest Weasley wasn't true?"

"I don't deny it was a bit of a shock to realize she'd moved on, but it gave me a bit of a shove in the right direction at least," Harry admitted.

"Well, there's your angle with the widower piece then. Just give them a few happy wedding photos of you and your husband. That'll make them forget you ever dated a ginger girl who married someone else."

Harry laughed. "Distract them with the truth?"

"Of course. The female population will be so sympathetic toward you after that sort of thing that it'll be long forgotten."

Placing the photo back on the mantle, Harry mulled it over. "I'll look through photos this weekend to find ones I'm willing to share. Thanks, Draco."

"You're welcome." Still facing the family photo, Harry completely missed the blush creeping over his companion's fair skin and the other man's assessing gaze. Draco shifted and cleared his throat. "We should probably head down to dinner."

Lost in thought, Harry agreed.