Draco shrugged one shoulder gracefully. He was still watching Harry, waiting for his gift to be opened. But apparently, an answer was needed first.
"Depends how often you'd like to. Usually twice a week is customary."
"Tw-twice a week..." Harry stuttered. "I have Teddy! I can't just... gallivant around with you twice a week!"
Draco chuckled, shifting closer, pleased when Harry didn't do anything but blink at him. "I don't know if I can handle seeing you less," he said honestly. He was hoping for a few times a week—daily, at his most optimistic. He probably wouldn't need the contact that often but it would make things so much easier. "We don't always have to go out. I can come over here to spend time with you. Both of you," he added, his eyes flicking to the other room. He genuinely liked Teddy. Distant relation or not, the little boy was charming to be around and quite intelligent. "The whole point is to get to know each other, Harry."
He ached to add that this was going to be permanent, the end result being marriage (and bonding) but he didn't want to overwhelm the other man. Harry was starting to get that wide-eyed look he'd come to realize meant he was on the verge of freaking out. He hadn't seen it often, but it was easy to spot once one knew what to look for. He leaned back a little, giving Harry some space to breath and think. Of course, it didn't last long and he was swaying close again within moments.
"Oh," Harry said weakly.
It was a very good point and he realized how much sense it made as soon as the words left the blonde's mouth. Of course; for how long they knew each other, they were still practically strangers. He found himself interested in learning more about Draco than how he took his tea and how many different smirks the man could produce (seven). He already realized there was a warmth to the man that might or might not be influenced by his Veela nature, but it was a nice, unexpected, surprise nonetheless.
"Alright."
Harry focused back on the box, trying to avoid the intense look he was getting from Draco. He felt his entire right side warm with the blonde's body heat but didn't move away. It felt... nice. He carefully opened the box and stared at the leather bracelet laying on a pillow of silky looking silver fabric. "Uhm," he said, taking it out and looking at it, feeling the leather between his fingers with an unconscious move.
It was black, and even with multiple strands woven in a fine braid it wasn't more than a half inch thick. There was a snap connecting the bracelet together. His eyebrows rose when he studied it; it was indeed Muggle designed and made but he felt a tingle of magic coming from it, as well. Like it had been woven through it. His own magic sparked and tingled in answer; it was a very pleasant, but a new, and almost odd, sensation.
Draco shifted closer, ignoring Harry's questioning glance for now, and plucked the bracelet from Harry's fingers and unsnapped it before quickly refastening it on Harry's wrist. A burst of warmth went through him as he took in Harry wearing his gift, a feeling of happy smugness going through him next when the other man made no move to remove it. As nice as the leather was, he'd much rather prefer a nice silver bonding cuff, but he had to go at Harry's pace.
"Do you like it?" he asked quietly, running a finger over the braided leather, slipping just enough to feel warm skin.
He wanted to get something shiny and showy, something expensive that showcased his wealth and his ability to support Harry and a family—a bracelet of platinum or gold, studded with emeralds, rubies and diamonds. Or something ornately carved by goblin artisans. Something worthy of Harry. Hermione, Merlin bless her, warned him off anything like that, especially at first. Harry would appreciate simple things much more until he got used to the finer things.
Draco could see the wisdom in her words as he saw Harry admire the simple leather band as if it were gold or platinum. He vowed to himself that by the time they bonded—and they would, if it was the last thing he ever did—Harry wouldn't find himself unworthy of expensive gifts. His mate would proudly wear the Veela's platinum bonding cuff. He intended to show Harry he was worth it and more.
"I do; thank you," Harry said softly, running his finger over the leather as well. It was a bit stiff, but he knew with time it would soften and he would barely even feel it. He nearly blushed again at the thought; he was already thinking ahead and it shocked him. He looked up and tried to remember what he wanted to ask the blonde before he'd been side-tracked by the gift. "Why are you doing this?"
Draco leaned back a bit, slightly annoyed. He didn't hide it and he was a bit confused to see a flicker of delight go across Harry's expression. "I told you. You're my mate, Harry. I'm— I have to. I need to. I want to."
"See? That right there; 'have to'," Harry said softly, shaking his head a little. "It so unfair that you're stuck with me." He'd been momentarily heartened to see Draco looking put out, relieved to see that the blonde wasn't acting so odd merely on instincts alone. He had almost cheered to see Draco irritated with him—it was a much more normal expression on the blonde's features than abject adoration. Merlin, he must be crazy (or incredibly fickle) to find that sort of thing appealing...
Draco sucked his teeth and turned Harry's chair until the other man was facing him, trying not to chuckle at his shocked expression. He did enjoy watching those beautiful green eyes widen and he hoped other emotions caused that reaction... and that he'd see such a thing soon. "I'm not stuck with you, Harry. It's a very celebrated thing—a Veela finding their mate. I don't resent it one bit. You're destined for me, as I you. We're a perfect match."
"A perfect match?" Harry asked, his voice soft with lingering doubt. It still sounded like Draco was stuck with him, even if he had accepted it. And appeared to enjoy the idea... Was the blonde even interested in blokes? Did he even want him outside of his damned Veela instincts?
Draco nodded once. Firmly. "Yes. We wouldn't be destined mates otherwise. I've known you were my mate shortly after I turned seventeen. I've been trying to find you since then," he said softly, trying not to sound like he blamed Harry for vanishing.
He didn't— not really.
When he saw Harry at his home, his terrified expression easy to see even through his badly swollen face, he hadn't known the full extent of their relationship then. He hadn't come into his inheritance yet. He had fancied the man but hadn't ever shown it. He had briefly seen Harry during the final battle, his heart dropping to his stomach when he thought Harry dead. Only the fact that he hadn't felt like someonr tore his heart out (there had been pain but it hd been managable) convinced him his eyes were wrong; Harry wasn't dead and he had been so relieved to see the man move moments later, he had nearly fainted.
He never got another chance to get close enough to Harry to speak properly. Every fleeting glance since, he had found his way blocked somehow and always missed a chance at approaching Harry. Harry hadn't stuck around long after the trials and such, so his chances had faded along with his hope of ever seeing the wizard again. It felt wonderful to finally be able to see Harry and he took a moment to bask in the closeness he was finally experiencing.
"'M sorry," Harry murmured, feeling more than a little horrified. He realized he wanted to lay a comforting hand on Draco, anywhere really, and he stared at his lap. He didn't know why he felt so terrible... and it was mostly for Draco; he couldn't imagine how it felt to be mate-less for all those years. Knowing and longing but unable to do anything about it. It had to have been horrible.
Draco waved a hand, waving off the apology but touched Harry felt the need to give it. "I didn't suffer, if that's what you're concerned with. I would have only been truly affected had you rejected me."
"I probably would have a few years ago," Harry admitted, feeling like a right bastard. It was true, though. He wouldn't have had the time to calm down and mellow out. He probably would have immediately hexed the blonde the second he saw him at his door and refused him. He figured the wait was only for the best and let it go. He looked into the pale grey eyes and sighed. "So, fine, you aren't 'stuck with me' and you're... happy about this?"
Draco nodded twice. Firmly. "I am. I've—" He paused and his cheeks pinked, earning a shocked stare from Harry. "I've liked you for ages," he admitted. "I know, it didn't appear as such but... well, I was a git—we've been over that. I didn't know how to handle being told 'no', having rarely heard such a thing." He grinned and winked cheekily. "Imagine my surprise when I had very... detailed dreams about you and realized what they meant." He felt another blush heating his cheeks at the mention of his dreams.
They had been incredibly detailed and erotic, more so than the sex-dreams he had had since hitting puberty. By that time, it wasn't odd for the green-eyed Gryffindor to star in such dreams. But after the third occurrence of the almost-real-but-not dreams, waking up trembling and impossibly hard (but unable to find relief), he couldn't ignore what the dreams meant—he had identified his mate.
It was one of the more mortifying conversations he'd had with his father when he needed to confirm it; describing details and... feelings. He had tried to be vague but a hard look had him bowing his head and telling everything. He still flushed whenever he remembered it, especially in his father's presence. And it hadn't helped at all to know his father had gone through the same thing... he really did not want to know erotic details about his mother.
He had been cautiously thrilled at the time to realize Harry Potter was his destined mate, feeling giddy his crush was deeper, more meaningful than just a quirk of teenaged hormones. Reality intruded when he realized the other wizard probably still hated him (and he couldn't really find it in himself to blame Harry for it—not one bit). He had been in an inconsolable state for months. His parents had understood, but only on the most basic of levels.
Draco blinked rapidly, coming out of his reverie, when Harry was still giving him a suspicious look. "What?"
"You've never once regretted the fact that I'm your mate? Me?" Harry asked, waving a hand near his head and then point into his chest firmly. He almost wished he had been there when Draco first found out, just to see what the blonde had truly thought. He probably would have kicked something and blown something up in an emotional fit if he'd been given that sort of news at that time.
Draco sheepishly nodded, once. Honesty fucking sucked sometimes. "Once—But it was more because I thought you hated me and would hex me soon as look at me," he hurried to explain when he saw a series of emotions flit across Harry's face. "I felt rejected before I had even approached you." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I was more than thrilled when I learned you were my mate, alright? Like I said, I'd already fancied you and everything just... made sense when I realized." At Harry's questioning look, he grinned. "We couldn't keep our eyes or hands off each other, Harry. Sure, it was fighting but I could never resist the urge to lay my hands on you, any way I could." Or stare across the Great Hall, at every meal-time, whenever he knew Harry wasn't looking.
"Oh." Harry willed his body to not react. It was a little embarrassing to realize there might have been more to their previous... altercations. (He mentally cursed Hermione, since she had said as much in sixth year—the insufferable know-it-all.) He blushed and cleared his throat, his body flushing with warmth when Draco leaned in close. Merlin, of all the things that've ever happened to him... he had to be a mate to Draco-I'm-a-bloody-Veela-Malfoy.
"Is it normal to court a mate? I thought Veela just... claimed?" he asked, fighting another flush when visions of such a thing popped into his head. He was also just able to suppress a shiver, trying to block out the thought of heat, power and passion (things he was sure were very descriptive of a Veela's mating prowess). Merlin, he never thought he'd have a mental image of Draco pinning him down and he'd find the idea more-than-satisfactory.
Draco chuckled lowly and leaned closer. "Is that what I should do, Harry? Claim you? Now?" he purred. Harry didn't answer but he knew why he didn't. "As tempting as it sounds—" He leaned back slightly, giving them both some space and breathing room. "I didn't want to do it that way. I wanted to give you the choice."
"Oh," Harry whispered, touched. "Thank you." He looked away, feeling a bit lightheaded even as his chest felt tight. He didn't know if Draco realized just how much that would mean to him or not and he was scared to ask. Scared to know the Veela was manipulating him. "Does dinner tonight count as an outing?" he asked suddenly.
Draco leaned back in his seat, resting his hands on his stomach, and smiled softly. "It can. Teddy will be our unofficial chaperone. Though, traditionally, it needs to be an adult or even a house-elf, as long as its bonded to one of our families. But since we'll behave—" He winked, "It won't be a problem this once."
"Alright," Harry nodded, blinking. "Who will chaperone usually?"
Draco smiled and couldn't restrain the urge to lean forward and brush a few stray strands of black hair from Harry's temple, thrilled and nearly crooning when Harry allowed it; lingering for only a fraction of second. He wasn't refused or smacked away and he sighed softly, happily. He hadn't expected the unruly mop to be so silky or the man's skin to be so soft and smooth. He also hadn't expected to be able to touch Harry so soon, even innocently, and he relished the opportunity. He cleared his throat and forced his hand down to rest limply against his stomach once more.
"Hermione has agreed to do it, if you'd like."
Harry sat quietly, thinking, for a long moment. The idea of Hermione hanging around on their dates was at once a relief and an annoyance. He had never been chaperoned while dating and it seemed it would really cramp the intimate feel. Of course, he didn't know how intimate an atmosphere he wanted, at least until he got to know Draco better. However, he trusted Hermione implicitly... and he would probably tell her every detail, anyway. She was incredibly nosy (though, she called it 'looking out for him') like that. All in all, if a chaperone was required, Hermione would be his preferred person.
"Are you OK with that?" he asked, looking over at Draco.
"I am. I've come to respect her greatly and she willingly offered. Otherwise, it would probably be my mother." Both men grimaced at the same time. "I love my mother dearly, but she can be a bit... old fashioned and over bearing." His mother was not Veela, but very staunch in 'traditions' and 'following what's deemed proper'. It was exhausting at best and in this case would probably be the thing that chased Harry off.
Harry nodded blankly. "This is so strange..." he murmured to himself, giving Draco an apologetic smile when he looked up, having heard.
"I know. And I am firm on my promise to give you the space and time you require."
"Thank you," Harry said softly.
Draco shook his head and dared to clasp Harry's hand between his own. He crooned softly when he again wasn't refused or smacked away. "No, thank you, Harry. For this chance." He slowly leaned down and placed a feather light kiss on the back of Harry's hand, smiling brightly when he straightened back up.
Harry tried not to blush again but he couldn't fight it. It was downright sweet to have Draco kissing his hand like some medieval suitor. His eyes flicked all over the blonde's handsome face and he knew he wasn't going to be able to fight this. He couldn't; as odd and unexpected as it was, it felt right. He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. He hadn't a clue what to do until dinner and it suddenly seemed like a less-than-good idea to spend any more time around the Veela.
"Did you have other errands? You can come back later for dinner..."
"I'd rather stay, if that's alright. Talk; get to know one another better."
Harry nodded and tried not to sigh. He had almost hoped for a little more time to think everything through on his own. He didn't mind that Draco wanted to stay, otherwise.
.|.
Harry fidgeted a bit, staring at the oven on occasion, willing the lasagna to cook faster. He had spent nearly the entire four hours talking with Draco. It wasn't unpleasant; on the contrary he rather enjoyed the time spent talking to the blonde. On one hand, it was rather nice to get to know the blonde better. On the other, he got to know the blonde better.
It was such a strange thing, really.
He learned a lot of things about Draco that he had never known, not that he ever took (or was given) the chance before. He also told a lot more about himself than he was exactly comfortable with. Hermione had told the Veela a bit about his childhood, but not everything and he appreciated that. He was a little less pissed at Hermione...
The few awkward questions about life before Hogwarts left them both in their own thoughts. Harry was trying to get his memories to move to a different direction; the first day with Teddy. Graduation. Hermione and Ron's wedding. Anything, really, that wouldn't have him dwelling on his childhood.
Draco was seething. Silently and, thankfully, without displaying. He was bombarded with horribly detailed mental images of each memory Harry had shared. His hands curled into tight fists; both in anger and in an effort to hide the claws trying to elongate. He didn't know what he should do with the information either. Did he exact revenge? He yearned to, but something told him Harry wouldn't appreciate it, no matter how much it was needed for his own peace of mind.
Did he do anything?
That same instinct told him no; he only had to remember these things and make sure they never occurred again. He couldn't even describe the warm, light feeling it gave him that he had been told something so personal, so soon. He looked up when he heard Harry clear his throat, a slightly confused look on his face. He took a moment to study the man, marveling. He was amazed Harry was as compassionate and forgiving as he was... He snapped to attention when Harry started speaking.
"How come I'm your mate? I mean, I'm a man," Harry asked. The question had been bouncing around his head for awhile but he hadn't asked it yet. He wasn't bothered with the idea, he was just curious. He narrowed his eyes when Draco gave him a kind smile and he had a feeling he wasn't going to like the answer. He tried not to react to the realization that he was starting to be able to read Draco better.
Draco smiled and tried to think of an answer. "I don't think you want to know..." he said. He didn't want to lie but he was quite sure Harry wouldn't like the answer. It would probably freak him out... The poor man was stilllearning about the Wizarding world since he was raised like a Muggle.
"I asked, didn't I?" Harry snarked, crossing his arms over his chest. "You said children earlier; we're two men—" he pointed out flippantly, waving a hand between them. "Surely it won't work... like that." He applauded himself for not stuttering. Or blushing. He didn't think a Veela would go for adoption or surrogacy. At least not for the first child, which always seemed like some exalted thing in Wizarding culture and he doubted it was different for Veela. He was out of ideas and he knew Draco had answers.
Draco smiled again and leaned back to stare at the ceiling. Hermione had asked the same thing, though she did it fairly early in her interrogation. She had taken the answer quite well, especially for a Muggleborn. She had been thrilled, really. Odd that. He shook the thought away for now; thoughts of Hermione Granger weren't exactly helpful at the moment.
He didn't know what Harry would think. Of course, he was already relieved Harry seemed comfortable with being in a relationship with another man, even if he had to fight a vicious surge of jealousy at the very idea he had been with someone else. It really did save him a bit of effort, in the long run. He slowly tilted his head back down, looking at Harry earnestly. He tilted his head a little and studied Harry, taking in the other man's tense body language but open expression. He slowly exhaled; OK, so Harry wanted to know but seemed wary of what he'd learn.
"Well, it's not uncommon for those with creature blood to be able to conceive. Wizards as well, but it's more common amongst Wizards with creature heritage."
"Alright..." Harry said slowly, a bit lost. "Men, you mean... Wizards can..." he trailed off. Draco nodded. Harry tried not to gape stupidly. "How—I didn't know... I've never heard of or seen such a thing." He didn't think Draco was lying but it just seemed so... odd. His eyebrows drew together as he tried to remember every seeing (or hearing about) a pregnant man. Nothing came to mind and he gave Draco a dubious look, waiting as patiently as he could for the blonde to continue speaking.
Draco nodded slowly, watching Harry closely. He knew it wasn't a common sight, even amongst those of his own kind. Between cautious healers (that recommended bed-rest at the first sign of discomfort or distress) and glamours, it wasn't often you'd see a pregnant wizard waddling about. He tried not to point out that Harry hadn't exactly been out and about in Wizarding society either; he was either living at Hogwarts or amongst Muggles for nearly his entire life.
"Veela tend to be... overprotective of their pregnant mates, so it's not likely you'd see one out and about, especially not heavily pregnant." He didn't add that Veela, especially, tend to be on the psychotic end of the 'protective' scale. He cleared his throat and shifted in his chair, unsure how to continue. Harry didn't looked particularly bothered, his head nodding in understanding—or maybe it was shock.
"It's not as common for wizards, but it happens. Obviously, one or both of us have the ability. Otherwise," he shrugged, lifting one hand, "we wouldn't be mates." It was much more likely it was him, being a Veela, but he knew not to be surprised by the way Fate messed with Harry Potter. He much preferred if Harry were able to conceive, the very idea of being Harry's protector and dominant singing through his blood—But he really wasn't picky. He was ready and willing to take up either role in their relationship, whatever made Harry happy.
"Oh," Harry whispered, feeling himself pale. He didn't know if he should believe Draco or not, it could be some sick Veela joke and he didn't know how to react. It wasn't a surprise to feel the hope and elation at the very notion; he thought he had to forfeit the chance at a family when he realized he preferred wizards. "One or both of us, huh?"
He absently rubbed his upper arm, thinking. He wasn't exactly versatile... he had his preferences and it was usually the submissive role, which tended to surprise (and once, completely put off) prospective partners. He didn't know which Draco would prefer and he found himself looking the blonde over thoughtfully. Did he have the ability or Draco? He could probably— He cut his thoughts off before they could go further, blushing furiously at how easily his thoughts had lead to sex. And children. With Draco Malfoy. Oh bloody hell...
Draco nodded, eyeing Harry warily. Harry was taking it rather well (even if he was currently—adorably—stained with a fierce blush). Probably too well. "It's usually the... submissive partner," he clarified. It was a foregone conclusion, really, but he was curious what Harry's reaction would be. A widening of green eyes and a flash of something he couldn't identify was really all he got to witness.
"Ah, of course. I mean, can't get up the duff if you aren't the one being buggered, yeah?"
Draco snorted a laugh before he could smother it. It was crude but humorous—and true. "Yes, exactly." He paused for a long moment, still studying Harry. "You don't believe me," he said, trying not to sound frustrated.
"Not really..." Harry huffed irritably and rubbed his forehead with quick, agitated strokes. Another glance at the blonde did nothing to tell him if the blonde was having him on or not. Draco still looked serious (and slightly put-out not to be taken at his word) but that could just be because he had perfected his blank face and wanted to really sell the whole thing—waiting to pounce and snicker at him for believing such a thing.
He wanted to believe Draco, but the concept was having a hard time sinking in. It went against everything he knew but then again... His knowledge of the wizarding world and its quirks was something he was still learning. Massive rooms could, magically, fit inside a tent. Potions could do just about anything—even if they tasted vile and were made of the most disgusting ingredients. Practically anything could be conjured from thin air with a flick of a magic wand. People could change into an animal.
Was the possibility of pregnant men really so unbelievable?
Draco sighed and resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose or yell at Harry. Reminding himself of Harry's (very lacking) Muggle upbringing calmed him further. It wasn't possible for Muggle men and they didn't have anything that covered the subject at Hogwarts; how was Harry to know before now? Harry looked calmer now, more accepting and considering, but he still felt the urge to make sure the man was completely convinced.
"I wouldn't lie. I promised I'd be honest with you. I'm telling the truth about this as well." He sat back and watched various emotions flit across Harry's face. Doubt. Suspicion. Shock. Lastly, and a bit more important to him, belief tinged with interest. He forced himself not to react to widened green eyes, though. "I'm sure Hermione has a book on the subject," he offered. He was half joking and half serious. From the few meetings he had with the witch, it wouldn't surprise him one bit if Hermione had a book (or two) on male pregnancies or creature mating habits. Especially after their talks.
"I bet she does," Harry muttered, still trying to wrap his head around the truth. He jumped when Teddy ran into the kitchen, only then realizing the oven timer was beeping loudly. "Teddy," he said in a warning tone and nodded approvingly when the little boy stopped and offered a sheepish smile in apology before continuing into the kitchen at a more sedate pace. And away from the oven, abandoning his efforts to 'help'.
Harry stood with jerky movements and moved to the oven, relieved to have a moment to let his mind wander without Draco gazing intently as his face. He knew he was shit at masking his thoughts from showing and he didn't want Draco to get the wrong (or right) impression of what he was thinking.
Draco looked between Harry and Teddy and offered the little boy a conspiratorial wink when Harry's back was turned. He grinned back when Teddy beamed a smile at him, hopping over to the table in bunny hops until he was standing in front of him, his nose looking sufficiently leporine to match his silly, hopping gait.
"Are we supposed to help?" he asked quietly, leaning down a bit so he could whisper to the little boy. He didn't know how the dinner-time routine went but he was eager to learn. Hopefully, he would be a part of it often.
"Yeah," Teddy said, nodding, the ever-so-slight bunny appearance melting away. He pointed to a drawer. "You get the forks 'n stuff," he said as he got a small pile of napkins from a low cupboard.
Draco chuckled, tickled by the child's easy camaraderie, and made his way to the indicated drawer. He was amused to see most of the cutlery didn't match, and he grabbed three forks at random. He hadn't often bothered with the pre-rituals of dinner, usually eating out or leaving it to house-elves, but it was surprisingly fun. Teddy pointed him around the kitchen, directing him to where the cups and plates were, being sure to remind him to get three of everything. He found himself smiling, enjoying the child's take-charge attitude probably more than he should be.
It was oddly enjoyable to be so... domestic. By the time he sat down again, there was plate with a healthy portion of steaming lasagna on it in front of 'his' spot. He hadn't had the dish before but it smelled wonderful. He watched Teddy dig in, Harry reminding him a time or two to 'slow down and chew, for Merlin's sake', and finally took a bite himself. He moaned softly as he chewed. "S'good," he mumbled around a mouthful. He wouldn't normally do such a thing but he felt the need to offer his praise as soon as possible. Harry had been subtly looking at him for a reaction.
"Don't talk with your mouth full," Harry immediately scolded out of habit. He paused and flushed; he had just chided an adult. An adult that wanted to court him. Shit. "Uh, I mean... You know; monkey see, monkey do," he said and nodded his head towards Teddy.
Draco swallowed hastily before the laugh he felt coming made him choke on his food. "Sorry, forgive my manners, Theodore. I'm usually not so boorish."
"'S'OK," Teddy said brightly and giggled. It was funny that Harry-daddy scolded an adult just like he would anyone else but it was even funnier when Mr. Draco called him Theodore. It wasn't quite right (Harry-daddy said he was 'just Teddy'—or maybe it was 'Ed'?—or something like that) but it was so... Mr. Draco. He was all proper but still laughed and smiled.
After half of his lasagna was gone, and the need to shovel it into his mouth quickly had abated a bit, Teddy was able to focus on Mr. Draco and Harry-daddy a little more. He thoughtfully nibbled on his garlic bread, his green eyes darting between the two men as he looked at them with curious intent. Something was weird but he didn't know what. It hit him with sudden inspiration and he gasped, nearly choking on his bread.
Harry dropped his fork and checked on Teddy, leaning over as his eyes nervously darted around his face. "You OK, Teddy?" The little boy nodded and sheepishly took a few quick sips of his milk, tapping his chest with a little fist. "Sure?" Teddy nodded again, rolling his eyes a little this time. Harry refused to feel bad for worrying so he only wrinkled his nose and rolled his eyes right back.
"'M OK," Teddy said, putting his fork down and looking at Mr. Draco. "You like Harry-daddy," he said proudly, sitting up nice and tall, pleased with himself; he had figured things out. Mr. Draco kept sneaking looks at Harry-daddy. He saw those kinda looks before; Uncle Ron would give them to Aunt Hermione. A lot. They would even be gross and kiss. He looked between the two adults, surprised to see Harry-daddy with pink cheeks while Mr. Draco just nodded. He narrowed his eyes, wondering if Mr. Draco was going to kiss Harry-daddy.
Draco paused for a moment, unsure how to continue. He wasn't comfortable keeping it from Teddy or having it be a secret, but what did a child know of mates, feelings and the like? He also didn't know Harry's wishes on the matter and he was stunned into silence for a few moments before he realized Teddy was waiting for an answer. He looked to Harry and merely got a small shrug and a similarly curious expression. As if Harry didn't already know...
"I do, I like him very much. Is that alright?" he asked sincerely.
He didn't exactly enjoying asking a small child's permission but he knew Teddy's approval would mean quite a lot to Harry. He peeked a glance at Harry from the corner of his eye and saw the other man was now watching Teddy with a mixture of exasperation, fondness and apprehension on his face. It was adorably endearing.
"Sure," Teddy shrugged, unsure why Mr. Draco was asking. He didn't mind one bit. Harry-daddy should have someone that liked him, even if they did kiss and do gross things.
He hummed and continued to stuff his lasagna into his mouth, huffing and going slower after another stern reprimand. He loved lasagna, it was so good (especially how Harry-daddy made it), it wasn't his fault he wanted to inhale it. If he wasn't meant to eat it fast, Harry-daddy shouldn't cast a mild cooling charm on it; having to blow on it was the only thing that slowed him down.
He had already figured out that Mr. Draco wasn't mean anymore; he was weird but funny and nice to him. He also seemed to like Harry-daddy, making gooey eyes whenever he looked over at him. He sat up, another thought occurring to him. "Are you gonna date Harry-daddy?" he asked shrewdly. Well, as shrewdly as an almost-five-year-old could be. Dates were serious. Dates and kisses meant you loved someone. Mr. Draco looked serious but he was still smiling a little, too.
Harry laughed, embarrassment oddly absent for the moment. "How do you know what a date is?" he asked Teddy, poking the little boy's shoulder.
"I heard Uncle Fred said he was gonna take someone on a date. I asked what it meant," Teddy said proudly. He looked back to Mr. Draco. "Well, are you?" he asked leaning forward with interest, his lasagna momentarily forgotten.
Draco nodded. "I am. Lots of them," he said leaning forward as well and grinning. He nearly asked if it was alright but ended up just chuckling when Teddy made a pleased little humming sound before stuffing the rest of his food in his mouth and asked for seconds. He peeked at Harry again and made his own soft pleased sound when he noticed Harry sitting there with a smile on his face—even if it was aimed at Teddy. It was very hard not to lean into the other man or strut around the kitchen with a happy sort of pride.
He managed though.
He probably ate more lasagna than Teddy, but it was embarrassingly hard to tell by the time dinner was over.