Ooooo please tell me more about This Must Be the Place
This was a fic I was going to work on for a fest (but couldn’t cos, life).
Summary: After fifteen years of marriage and a small army of children, Harry and Draco are still trying to figure out how to be good parents. Their skills are put to the test on Game Day-- a day where their kids, their friend’s kids, and all of north London’s magical toddler community come together for a day of fun, competitive sport and praise for their little ones. Also featuring: a group of moody teenagers in love, a wager pool that rivals all wager pools, epic tantrums (not just from the babies!), and referee!Harry.
-This was going to be a fluffy family fic! Oof.
-We have James, Albus, Scorpius, and Lily ranging from 15 to 2 years of age.
Here’s a little excerpt (unbeta’d, so sorry for the roughness!):
Harry awakes with a silent gasp, wide-eyed and sharply alert. There’s a hand over his mouth.
Draco is leaning over him from the side of the bed, his hair a mess, a finger pressed against his own lips as he makes a soft, shushing sound.
“We have about ten seconds flat to make this transfer, because Merlin help me, Harry, if Lily kicks me one more time in my kidneys, I might just strangle her,” Draco whispers.
“Mmphhk,” comes Harry’s soft, muffled response. Draco removes his hand from Harry’s mouth then. Even in the dark light and without his glasses, Harry can see Draco’s pale, exhausted face as he soundlessly counts to three. On three, Harry’s arms come away from the tiny body collapsed across his chest and Draco smoothly lifts her up.
Lily had a habit of alternating between sleeping sprawled out across Harry’s chest or tucked between Harry and Draco, her little feet always, without fail, finding ways to press against Draco’s lower back, a ribcage, the back of his neck--whatever sensitive spot her feet could find. They’re trying to wean her from sleeping in their bed every night, but there was a thunderstorm around bedtime, and she had cried herself hoarse until they agreed to let her sleep between them.
He holds his breath as he watches Draco carefully maneuver their two year old daughter against his chest. They both freeze when the child’s face scrunches up in displeasure, their eyes widening, before her face smooths out and she sticks her thumb in her mouth.
Harry relaxes into the bed and watches as Draco, his back stiff and straight, exits their bedroom on silent, socked feet.
Several minutes pass and Harry finds himself sliding back into a comfortable sleep until Draco climbs on top of him. Harry’s arms immediately wrap around Draco’s waist, finding this replacement body much more comfortable.
“She’s a stubborn arse, just like her horrid father,” Draco whispers before slotting his mouth over Harry’s for a messy kiss.
Harry hums against his mouth. “Her perfect aim at kicking me in the bollocks is all you, though. You should be proud,” Harry responds groggily, his lips now dragging across Draco’s cheek.
Draco sighs. “I am. Merlin, the little hellion. Even in the throes of her Terrible Twos, I still love her.”
Harry’s lips gravitate to this one spot under Draco’s jaw he knows he’s particularly sensitive and sucks, but for some reason Draco doesn’t stop talking long enough to appreciate it.
“Am I a bad father? I try so hard but I just feel like she absolutely hates me. Oh,” Draco moans. For a moment Harry believes he’s finally distracted him. “Harry...I’m literally at my wit’s end...it shouldn’t be this difficult. Were the others this difficult? It has to be me, it’s me, isn’t it?”
Harry stops sucking. “Well, you do call her Potter.”
Draco pinches him before rolling off him.
Harry vigorously rubs his closed eyes with his thumb and index finger, realising that both sleep and a potential shag is now out of the question. His hand flops down to his side before seeking out Draco’s hand to clasp. It’s true that sometimes Draco calls Lils Potter when she’s in a fit, but it was cute and funny and infrequent enough that Harry doesn’t think their two year old daughter has developed a complex...
“Of course you’re an excellent father. Lils just...doesn’t like anyone right now.”
“She’s obsessed with you.”
Harry tsks. “I’m a glorified pillow to her.”
“You spoil her, that’s how you’re escaping her ire,” Draco mutters.
“Well, to be honest...I’m terrified of her.”
Draco laughs, low and strained, covering his eyes with his hand. “Circe. We can’t be afraid of our own child.”
Harry turns over then, his arm draping over his husband’s waist to press their bodies together. “I find it completely acceptable,” Harry says with a chuckle before cheekily darting out his tongue to lick the side of Draco’s face. “Honestly. I feared all of our kids at some point.”
