Drabble 1: Lily’s Question
“Daddy, can I ask you something?”
She felt her dad start and glance down at her, but she kept her eyes focused far off into the crowd of people and she clamped her lips shut. Maybe it was wrong to ask now? Maybe he wouldn’t answer?
They stood in the middle of a busy crowd in a truly familiar platform, waiting for the train to whisk James and Albus away to Hogwarts. Her dainty fingers clutched his finger while she worried the hem of her blouse with the other, a sure sign of her nervousness. She then felt his hand engulfing hers, stooping down to her height and with a smile ready on his face. She clung onto his finger tightly. Too tightly.
“What is it, Lils?” Harry asked, wary and anxious. Lily had wondered before if her dad always thought that her mum was more sensible, handling their inquiries with grace and firmness. He usually lets her handle these kinds of moments. But now, she was sure of it. “Is something wrong?”
Lily shook her head, flaming red hair swishing back and forth against her tiny shoulders, unsure of how to start. What if her dad laughs at the ridiculous question? It was ridiculous, wasn’t it?
“Promise you won’t laugh?” She thought to ask, just to be sure.
She noticed a corner of her dad’s lips ticking slightly before settling into a more sombre expression. He nodded firmly at her, and it made the worms in her stomach relax a fraction. She stared at him, as if there was no one else present, no train to see off, nothing. It was only them that mattered right now.
“Did you ever love someone else other than mum?” When her dad couldn’t seem to answer, mouth opening and closing, Lily went on, “Like really love? Like the way you loved mum?”
Harry didn’t want to remember, but the memories—soft, blonde hair, an even softer smile, smooth, pale skin, a careless laugh—rushed back like how the ocean inevitably surges toward the shore. Back home. Harry tried to swallow, to lessen the way his eyes misted at the shock of such flashbacks, but his throat felt too dry.
Harry tried to answer again, floundering for a second, “W-Why do you ask, Lily? You know I loved your mum.”
“I know that! I know!” She huffed, stomping a foot on the ground. He couldn’t look into her eyes. Too much like Ginny’s. There was too much love there, too much guilt. “But you couldn’t have loved mum all your life.”
Harry had to bite his lip then, glancing back and forth from his daughter to the carriages before them. James and Albus were still out of sight, probably still trying to find an empty one. He sighed and placed a hand on her shoulders.
It was like talking with Gin again, even before she signed the divorce papers. Even after. She was somehow always one-step ahead of him, always knew what was going to happen before it happens. Or maybe he was just too slow to understand the situations he was in? That he’s already fucked up before he could even begin to think how he could get out of the mess. But Gin always knew, and it would explain a lot about his daughter.
“Can you tell me first why you want to know?” He asked in hopes of diverting her attention away from the subject. He didn’t feel ready to revisit such memories again. It felt too raw even if it had already ended more than a decade ago. He couldn’t talk about it. Not out here in the open. Not when there was a chance for the subject of those memories to materialise right in front of him.
Lily’s gaze darted downwards then, her cheeks burning pink, and she worried her lip with her teeth. And that’s where the similarities between her and Harry started and ended. The worry, the hesitation before—she looked back up again, face set and eyes determined. Ah, she is just like her mother.
“Because I like two people.”
“Yes. I like Alex—remember him? He’s my best friend! But I met Nicole the other day and she’s really nice.”
Harry merely nodded, running a hand through the sides of his greying hair, pondering the possibilities this conversation would lead to and mean.
Lily continued, “She understands me more. When I say I want to play in the sandbox, Nicole comes with me and gets the blue bucket. But when I tell Alex, he takes the yellow shovel and starts digging around! I still like him.” Lily’s frown deepened and she took a step forward, getting up into Harry’s face, “I do! He’s nice and I’m happy with him! But Nicole, Daddy. She… Nicole understands more.”
Blinking, Harry patted the top of Lily’s head, unsure of what to even say to that. A situation resembling love troubles wasn’t something he’d expect to encounter at her young age. But maybe that’s another similarity between her and Gin, that they’re more mature than what you expect them to be.
“Then Alex asked me why I was so close to Nicole and told me that I should pick someone as my real best friend. Nicole was really upset because I don’t know who to pick. So maybe you’ll understand, Daddy. Because mum said you loved someone too! Just like mum.” She finished and sighed loudly, crossing her arms against her chest.
Harry let out a chuckle, sliding his palm against her cheek, cupping it gently, “Oh, Lily. I know it’s not… easy to pick someone. Especially if you love them that way.” She looked at him, eyes crinkling in worry and thought, “But you have to pick one as your… well, as your best friend. Or you could hurt them both.”
“But you did love someone like you loved mum, right?”
“Well… yes.” He breathed out, feeling his cheeks and neck heat up at the admission, “I loved them very much.”
There, that was easy, wasn’t it? He could admit this much at least.
Her arms relaxed, and she let them fall to her sides, “Then why did you pick mum over them?”
Harry felt that reflexive clamping of his mouth whenever anyone asks about anything remotely close to that particular past of his. There was just too many questions, too much pain and lost answers. But he had to persevere. He had to, for Lily. With a ragged inhale and an even shakier exhale, he faced his daughter fully, putting his hands over her shoulders.
“You’re right, Lily. I loved your mum, and I loved someone else too. But I picked your mum because I loved her so much. We were waiting for Jamesey then, and I didn’t want to leave my family.” His heart pounded hard against his chest, the memories assaulting him with great force now.
A tear slipped down from an eye, and Lily followed it with wide eyes. Did it really hurt her dad that much to talk about him? She felt bad for trying to talk about this with her dad, but she had to know. She told mum that she had to before deciding. She raised a finger to wipe the corner of his eye, and he smiled at her. The warmth of his smile warmed her in turn, bolstering her confidence right back.
“There are times when we have to choose people in our lives without any hesitations.” Her father started again, breathing deeply, “There are times when we feel like we have no choice. But it’s wrong to think that way. We will always have a choice. And overcoming those hard decisions will make us stronger.”
She had to ask. She had to. “Do you regret choosing mum?”
Horror and disbelief passed over her dad’s face quickly, but it lingered in his eyes, his worried mouth, his voice, “No, Lily, no, of course not! Your mum’s one of the best people in my life. I am so happy to have her. And then we had Alby and you--I can’t believe how I lucky I was then and now.”
She waited, knowing that he knows too. He knows she wants to hear. She wants him to say it. He has to say it.
“What I do regret is hurting that someone whom I loved as much as I loved your mother. Possibly, even more than.”
When Lily recalled to the time her mum said the same words, that her dad possibly loved someone more than he did her, her mum had a small smile on, rolling her eyes. As if dad loving someone more than he loved his wife was him being difficult. Like a petulant kid. As if she wanted him to just say it, to just accept it and do something about it. But Lily couldn’t understand why.
Maybe now… maybe now she knew.
Before her dad could answer though, she caught sight of black trousers, heard the clicking of shoes against the paved platform. The train blew its whistle, signalling the few minutes before departure, and then she heard his voice.
Father and daughter looked up, watching first the waving hand, then slowly connecting that hand to a black-sleeved arm, then to his shoulders, to his neck, and then, finally, ending at his face. He was facing the train, only a side of his profile available to them.
The angles had always been there for Harry, but it had been softened by time, by the changes made by something other than time.
Lily found his smile dazzling, the curving lines cradled the corner of his mouth and smaller, linear ones extended from the corner of his eye. There was pure joy and love there.
They knew then the answer to the question.
With a sigh, Harry hefted Lily up on his shoulders. If Scorpius was visible, surely Albus and James were as well. When he stood up, clutching Lily’s knee with a hand and holding her back with the other, Harry could almost feel Draco’s warmth, his magic, buzzing all over him. James and Albus were there with Scorpius, waving at them from inside the carriage.
“Jamesy! Alby!” Lily shouted over the ruckus of parents clamouring to bid their children goodbye, “Have fun at Hogwarts!”
The train gave a final blow of its horn, and then it began to move away from the platform, engine slowly taking track. The crowd watched the train shrink into the distance, their collective sighs and silent well-wishes permeating the air. Harry let his hand fall, still aware of Draco close beside him. The silence felt heavy, but not uncomfortable.
There were greetings, questions, declarations—there were a lot of things to say and ask about. Harry just didn’t know how to start. But the silence felt familiar enough that he couldn’t. Not if he has to leave the space next to Draco again.
“How have you been, Mr. Malfoy?”
It was Lily’s voice, just above him, and the two men’s gaze finally met. Yes, the effects of time were truly evident now. How long has it been since Harry had looked into his eyes, had traced his face, had soaked up the mere presence of him?
There was a moment of confusion before Draco’s silver eyes trailed up to find Lily’s. His smirk was automatic and uncharacteristically warm, nodding at her in recognition.
“Doing well, I must say, Ms Potter.” He answered, glancing pointedly at Harry, “It was nice of you to ask, unlike your oaf of a father.”
Before Harry could shoot back a remark, Lily piped up, “He is a handful at times, but I promise, he’s worth it.”
Draco met his gaze again, smirk morphing into a shy smile, and murmured, “I know.”
Harry felt like crying and laughing at the same time. Why must he always feel so oddly unlike himself in front of Draco? Why is it always him?
“You do know that he and my mum are divorced now, right? And you’re divorced too? I read the Daily Prophet too.”
“Lily, just what are you—”
Harry had to move his head to look up questioningly at Lily, but her hands held onto his hair firmly, denying him the action and effectively silencing him.
Draco merely nodded in response, and so Lily went on as she peered at him atop her dad’s shoulders, “Good. Dad can’t seem to find the words right now, and I don’t expect him to, since he’s facing the man he loves more than my mum.”
With an air of grace and finality, Lily then said, “My mum and I give you my blessing to date my father. Does 8 o’clock tomorrow night sound good to you?”
Harry had to stop himself from jumping in joy or running in fear since he still has his precious, albeit unbelievable daughter on his shoulders. Ginny wouldn’t be so forthcoming if something happened during this momentous occasion. Draco’s eyes sparkled, and he was smiling in a way that reminded Harry of those wonderful days. Overcome with emotion, the two weren’t sure who said the following words at first.
“It’s a date then, Draco.”
Harry and Draco’s grins stretched slowly, languidly, until they were outright laughing when they realized who it was.
Plan: Write about adorable Lily and the foundation of her sexual development, asking Harry about his experience in choosing between two people he loved. 500-1k words.
What Happened: Wrote about dorable Lily and the foundation of her sexual development, asking Harry about his experience in choosing between two people he loved. 2.2k words. lololol
Been toying around with this idea for a week, and I finally had the time to write it out.
Thank you to @secretlycrazyhummingbird for the quick beta!
