James was a calm baby, he didn't cry at night, though he woke up early and almost always at the exact same time every morning during that long first month of life. Harry sometimes felt like the love he had for him could burst out of his chest. Any resentment he had ever felt toward his mother for sacrificing herself now made perfect sense, he would jump in front of any spell if it were aimed at James.
His little boy was so sweet. His skin tone landed somewhere between Harry's faint tan and Draco's pale complexion, and his platinum-blond hair was already starting to look as uncontrollable as his own, something they probably should've expected the moment he was born with hair. Apparently, Potter hair genetics were quite strong.
Harry loved watching the tiny hand resting on his chest while James nursed. Merlin, he had almost forgotten that he'd produce milk, but James fed eagerly, lips latched and eyes half-closed, from a breast that was only slightly, almost imperceptibly, swollen.
Draco liked to burp James afterward, spending long minutes just watching the baby in his arms. He loved to caress his tiny face, to rock him gently, to hold him close until James fell asleep. The love shining in those icy-blue eyes was almost tangible, and Harry loved to watch it.
He still couldn't let anyone but Draco, Ron, or Hermione hold James without keeping them within his line of sight. Molly had tried to come by and help a few times, but Harry simply couldn't relax. He was convinced that if he turned his back for even a second, something terrible would happen, that Molly would be killed and James taken by Carrow or some other Death Eater.
The Malfoys were beginning to grow irritated with him. He simply couldn't stand the thought of Lucius touching his baby, though he did allow Narcissa to hold James's tiny hand while he rested in Draco's arms.
He'd apologized to Draco, but he just couldn't relax, the leftover adrenaline from the war still lived in his body, hitting him all at once, like that moment after he'd fallen from Hagrid's arms, alive after surviving the Killing Curse. Draco never complained; he only comforted him, whispering gentle things and promising that, in time, Harry would be able to stand having Lucius near James.
Teddy was completely fascinated by his new little brother. He would stand by the crib, watching him sleep. More than once, his hair turned platinum blond, not because of Draco, since it always came out messy. Harry found it adorable, hugging Teddy and covering his chubby cheeks with kisses.
That day, Harry slept until noon, waking up twice to feed James, though Draco had coaxed him back to sleep each time, and Harry hadn't protested. His body had recovered from labor, but not yet from the pregnancy; he still had the small, soft belly of someone who had just given birth, and his body was sensitive all over. But at least he could now stand without pain, move freely, and no longer ache with every step.
When he finally got up that day, in Draco's apartment, he heard voices downstairs. He threw on an open Gryffindor sweatshirt over his pajamas and carefully made his way down the stairs, a little thirsty and craving tea.
In the living room, he was met with the sight of Teddy, hair a blend of blue and platinum blond, holding James between his little legs on the sofa, while Blaise Zabini stood in front of them, snapping a photo of the scene.
"Good afternoon," a male voice said behind him. Startled, Harry turned and saw Theodore.
"Hey," he greeted, and Draco appeared, coming out of the kitchen with a mug in hand.
"I heard you getting up," Draco said, handing it to him, Earl Grey with a touch of milk and probably some sugar, just the way Harry liked it.
"Thank you," Harry murmured, tilting his face up in silent request for a kiss, and got one.
"Hazz," Teddy called, finally looking away from James with his warm brown eyes.
"Hey, my little man," Harry said, walking over to press a kiss to his forehead and laughing when a few dark strands appeared among the colorful ones. "You taking care of James?" he asked, sitting beside them on the sofa, sipping his tea while Teddy nodded with a serious expression.
"He's heavy," Teddy complained, and James opened his eyes, immediately catching his brother's attention.
"He's beautiful, Potter," came Zabini's voice. Harry turned toward him. "Looks like his eyes are going to be as big as yours," Blaise commented, and Harry smiled.
"Merlin knows how much Draco talks about your eyes, and how much he celebrated when James got them," Theodore said, and Harry laughed.
"And what did he say about James's hair?" Harry asked, brushing his fingers through his son's short, messy blond strands.
"I've told you before, he could've come out without a single trace of me, and I'd still think he's perfect," Draco said, stepping closer.
"Take him," Teddy asked, looking restless, and Harry smiled.
He set his mug on the coffee table and carefully lifted his son from Teddy's arms. James let out a little whine, and Harry smiled again, stroking his cheek and gazing into those vibrant green eyes staring right back at him. He lost himself there for a moment, his baby was so beautiful, so precious.
"And you are so loved, my little boy," he whispered, holding the chubby hand between his fingers. James smiled, and Harry couldn't help himself; he pressed a kiss to his forehead.
There was a knock at the front door, and Harry let Draco go answer it. The Floo Network hadn't been used since an incident when Harry saw a flash of green light at Grimmauld Place while holding James, and hadn't let go of his baby or his wand for the next sixteen hours.
"My grandson, where is he?" came a woman's voice.
"Hello to you too, Mother," Draco replied, and Harry chuckled softly, standing up and turning toward Narcissa, who was beaming.
"Has he eaten yet?" she asked, slowly setting her wand down on the shelf before approaching them.
"Twice today," Draco answered.
"Only twice?" she turned to her son, horrified. "He's only a month old, he needs to eat more often!"
"I overslept, I'm sorry for that, but I'll feed him again now," Harry said, and Narcissa turned to him.
"Oh, no, don't worry, you need your rest," she said, her tone softening.
Harry watched her, the way she looked at James, the longing to hold her grandson. He took a deep breath, his eyes flicking to the wand she had left on the shelf, far from them, and feeling the weight of his own wand in his pocket.
"Would you like to hold him?" he asked, and her blue eyes widened.
"Yes, yes, please," she said quickly, nodding as she stepped closer.
Harry had to take another steadying breath before carefully passing James into her arms. His chest tightened, stomach heavy, as he watched Narcissa hold his son, her eyes gentle, a soft, sincere smile on her lips, her hands careful as she supported his tiny head.
"Thank you for this, Potter," she said, still gazing down at James.
Harry felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Draco, who pressed a kiss to his forehead. He didn't need words to understand that Draco was thanking him too.
He heard quick footsteps and stepped aside, watching Teddy chase after glowing lights conjured by Theodore.
Harry smiled at his godson, who was laughing, brightly, freely, like a one-and-a-half-year-old should. A kind of laughter Harry himself probably never had at Teddy's age, already an orphan and living with the Dursleys.
"You're such a smiley one," Narcissa's voice said, and Harry looked over at her. She was speaking to James, who watched her with a wide, adorable grin. "You're right, Draco, those are truly hypnotizing eyes," she added, and Harry glanced at Draco, who still had his arm wrapped around his waist.
"I know," Draco agreed softly, though his gaze was fixed entirely on Harry, who flushed faintly.
James made a small noise, and Harry immediately wanted to take him back, but held himself back. Well, held on to Draco instead, watching his baby wiggle his tiny arms and blow spit bubbles, looking restless.
"No, no, little emerald," Narcissa cooed, wiping the drool away with a wave of her hand, no wand.
Harry thought the nickname was sweet and let himself imagine, just for a moment, what it would be like if it were his own mother holding James, if that tiny hand were tangled in dark red hair instead of blond, if those eyes looking up were green like his instead of icy blue, if the body cradling him were softer than Narcissa's but slimmer than Molly's.
"Sweetheart?" Draco's voice pulled him back, and when Harry looked at him, he saw his eyes were watery. Harry quickly wiped his own tears.
"I'm okay, I just thought about my mum," he explained, sniffling, catching Teddy just before he tumbled off the couch and pulling him close, burying his face in the boy's hair.
"She had spirit, Mr. Potter," Narcissa said, still watching James, who was now reaching for little green snakes of light. "No woman ever faced the Dark Lord like she did, none made him feel such hatred he almost considered making her a Death Eater." She finally looked at Harry. "Your father was remarkable too, of course, as was my cousin Sirius, but no one was like your mother. And I say that having only spoken to her three times. One of them, she was yelling at me," she added, and Harry laughed.
"We're screwed with this kid, aren't we?" Zabini's voice chimed in.
"Language," Narcissa scolded sharply.
"Sorry," Blaise muttered, laughing at her tone.
"Cho-late," Teddy demanded, staring up at Harry.
"Now? But we haven't even had lunch yet, little man," Harry said, and Teddy pouted, crossing his little arms as the dark strands vanished from his hair.
Someone knocked on the door again, and Draco went to answer. Harry was genuinely grateful that everyone was respecting his wish to avoid the Floo for now. Neville stepped into the room, gave Theo a quick kiss on the lips, and came closer, smiling at Teddy and taking his small hand.
"If you want me to grab James and Teddy and run, just say the word," he whispered, and Harry frowned, until he saw Lucius step into the room. His entire body went rigid.
His heart started pounding. Sweat prickled at his skin. His body froze, unresponsive, and when he finally did move, it was only to hand Teddy to Neville and walk quickly to Narcissa, taking James from her arms the moment he could, finally able to breathe again. James fussed at the sudden movement, and Harry whispered a quiet apology to his little boy, trying to slow his racing pulse.
"Harry, it's alright," Neville's voice said softly, and Harry tried to focus on that.
He knew, he knew, Lucius would never harm his own grandson. The man loved Draco fiercely; Merlin, he had crossed an entire battlefield unarmed for his son. He wouldn't hurt James. But Harry's mind kept showing him flashes, the pale face under Voldemort's wand beside Cedric's lifeless body, the fine robes at the Ministry while his friends were attacked, Neville forced to face Bellatrix, Ron screaming with fresh scars on his arms.
He looked at James, his little boy, taking in the flushed cheeks, the thin strands of blond hair, the wide green eyes, the small upturned nose, and the full pink lips. So perfect. He smiled, and James smiled back, toothless and bright, and Harry finally managed to take a deep breath.
"Sorry about that," he said, his voice trembling a little, and looked at Lucius.
"I understand, Mr. Potter," the man said. He didn't sound offended, just sad, and Narcissa looked heartbroken to have James taken from her arms.
Harry's gaze moved to Draco, whose smile didn't reach his eyes. He saw Zabini walking toward the kitchen, Theo following him while holding Neville's hand, and Neville carrying Teddy in his arms. Harry inhaled deeply, gathering himself, and looked down at the small miracle resting in his arms.
"That was Andromeda's grandson, Edward?" Lucius asked, and Harry looked up.
"Yes. When Harry stays over, Teddy sometimes comes too. He's a lovely boy," Draco replied.
"If Andy's been raising him, I'm sure he's well-behaved," Narcissa said, and Harry let out a faint laugh, drawing his baby's green eyes back to him.
"We're all a little scared of Grandma Andy, huh?" he said in a soft, playful voice to James, who giggled and reached for his face. Harry caught his tiny hands gently.
"He's healthy, isn't he?" Lucius asked, his tone cautious. "James Sirius, I mean, he eats and sleeps well?"
Harry studied him for a few seconds before answering.
"Yes. He's sleeping around seventeen hours a day," he nodded, watching the older man do the same. "He eats well too. Not so much during the first week, but now he's doing fine."
"And you, Potter, are you healthy? You need to be, for his sake," Lucius said, and Harry blinked a few times, caught off guard.
"He is, Father," Draco replied before Harry could, starting another thread of conversation.
Harry watched Narcissa join in, her voice calm and warm, while Lucius mostly nodded silently. His gray eyes stayed on James, following every small twitch of his hands, every movement of his face, the slow closing of his big eyes as Harry rocked him. Lucius was looking at James the same way he had looked at Draco since the war ended, since that day in the Great Hall, when the Battle of Hogwarts was finally over.
Harry took a breath and held it as he stepped closer to Lucius. The man's gray eyes widened slightly before softening when they fell on James. A wide smile spread across his face, strange to see, but genuine.
"Hello, little James," he said softly, raising a hand. He waited until Harry gave a small nod before holding James's tiny hand. "Hello, little lord," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he brushed a thumb over James's bare arm.
With his other hand, he touched James's pale hair and let out a quiet laugh, it was Draco's hair, the same shade Draco had inherited from him. Would his father have reacted like this if he knew Harry had named his son after him? How would Sirius have reacted? Merlin, he wished he could know. Remus would have been happy, surely, knowing his boy and the son of his best friends would grow up together, in the same house, endlessly loved.
"He's beautiful, son," Lucius said, turning to Draco, whose smile this time was bright and real, his Narcissa-like eyes shining.
"Shall we have lunch, boys?" Narcissa asked, and Harry nodded, breaking the tender link between grandfather and grandson. As he did, he felt like he could finally breathe again, aware of the comforting weight of his wand in his pocket.
He exhaled slowly, walking toward the dining room. He smiled at Teddy and Neville as he approached, and Teddy grinned back, earning a soft kiss on the cheek from Harry.
Lunch, overall, was calm, filled with awkward, uncomfortable silences. Harry had only agreed to it because, the week before, he'd dragged Draco to The Burrow to introduce James to everyone. And since Draco still refused to set foot inside the Manor, they were meeting at Draco's flat instead.
He had to excuse himself before lunch ended, once James began to cry. He insisted Draco stay and enjoy the company of his parents and friends, signaling for Neville to watch Teddy, and asking him to bring the boy once he'd finished eating.
Harry carried James into his bedroom, taking off the unzipped hoodie he wore and undoing the buttons of his knit shirt, just enough for James to reach his nipple. It hurt until his little boy latched properly, but once he did, Harry felt the milk start to flow.
It had been so strange the first time. He'd noticed the faint swelling almost by accident, really, it was Draco who pointed it out, but realizing he was producing milk was surreal. The whole process of getting pregnant, giving birth, and now producing milk still felt unbelievable. Merlin, he hadn't even known it was possible until his third week of pregnancy, barely nine months ago.
He looked down at James, watching his tiny hand rest against his chest, his small mouth latched and sucking, his little eyes closed in absolute peace. Harry began to hum a lullaby, he didn't even know where he'd learned it, but it always came to him when he needed calm. He rocked his precious boy gently, watching him feed quietly, safely, knowing nothing in the world could ever touch him as long as Harry was alive.
He jumped slightly when someone entered the room but relaxed as soon as he saw it was just Draco, with Teddy in his arms. Harry watched as Draco set Teddy down and conjured floating colored lights. Teddy didn't even try to catch them this time, he just lay on the floor, staring at them in fascination.
"Everything alright?" Draco asked, and Harry nodded, smiling "Thank you for letting my mother hold him… and for letting my father touch him," Draco said softly.
"I'm the one who should be sorry, for taking a month to allow it, darling," Harry replied, but Draco shook his head and sat on the armrest of the chair.
"No, you were incredible for letting them close. You were perfect for letting my friends meet him, for choosing Theo and Granger as godparents. You were unbelievably kind for forgiving me." His voice cracked slightly, eyes glistening, and he leaned down to press a kiss to the top of James's head, who was still nursing. "Thank you for giving him to us. Thank you, thank you, thank you," he whispered, his lips brushing James's hair.
"My love," Harry murmured tearfully, "we made him together." He had to fight the urge to hug Draco tightly, not wanting to disturb James.
"You did most of the work," Draco laughed softly through his tears, brushing his nose through James's hair. "I love him so much, so much it feels like my chest can't hold it." Then he looked up at Harry, eyes glimmering silver-blue. "And I love you just as much, my sweetheart."
Harry cupped Draco's neck and pulled him in for a kiss, wanting to deepen it, but James let go of his nipple and grumbled in protest, frowning. They both laughed quietly, adjusting him before stealing a quick, real kiss, complete with a fleeting brush of tongues.
"I love you too, darling," Harry said, watching Draco's smile widen until it reached his eyes.
James let go of his nipple again and refused to latch back on. Draco was quick to summon a small towel onto his shoulder and take the baby into his arms, patting and gently massaging his back until a soft burp escaped him.
"Very good, Bambi, very good," Draco whispered.
Harry watched the scene as he buttoned up his knit shirt, smiling. His chest felt like it might burst, his heart was racing, but in a good way, the kind of rush he used to feel catching the Golden Snitch, not the kind that came from running from Death Eaters.
Draco looked so beautiful there. His once-neat clothes were now wrinkled, James was drooling a bit on his shoulder, and Teddy was complaining that the lights were fading. Harry laughed softly, covering his mouth with his fingers, finding the entire domestic scene utterly endearing.
He could live like that for the rest of his life, he wouldn't complain. In fact, he thought it might be the perfect reward for everything he'd endured.