Harry stood with his arm around his wife, Ginny, as they waved their son Albus Severus Potter goodbye on the Hogwarts Express.

He'd never been prouder in his life. His son was on his way to Hogwarts. He remembered being in that train for the first time, how excited and terrified he'd been at the same time.

He could hardly believe that here he was, the one place he'd never expected to be.

Married and with a family.

Who would have guessed?

Not him, that was for sure.

Harry sighed as the train disappeared out of sight.

Even as he stood there, he felt he was in he carriage, facing a red hair coated in freckles and laughing all the way to the place that had become his first real home.

Something felt....wrong suddenly. Certain things about the platform Harry stood on didn't look right. Was that pillar always there? Surely the ceiling wasn't that high up?

Ginny pressed herself against him, snuggling into Harry's side and it all seemed right once more.

They started away from the platform, hand in hand. Strangely, Harry couldn't make out the conversation they'd become entrapped in, smiling and laughing together even as they apparated back home.

Something was definitely missing. A presence Harry just knew should have been right beside him, instead of Ginny.

Harry's breathing hitched as he struggled to remember what it was. What could possibly be missing? He had everything he had ever wanted, right here.

Worry flared within him the more he thought about it. Whatever wasn't there, it was incredibly important.

Or maybe not a what, but a who....

Ginny glanced over at him, walking from the living room to the kitchen of their house.

"Are you ok, Harry?" Her voice was sickly sweet, it made him feel sick.

Then, suddenly, the scene faded around him.
------

Harry blinked his eyes open, rubbing the sleep from them, a feeling of panic still welling in his chest.

'Well' he thought 'That was a new one'

He stretched on his double bed, looking up at the ceiling as he pondered over the weird dream he'd just experienced.

The bed seemed oddly cold, devoid of the human warmth that was usually present beside him.

What time did that mean it was? His partner was not a morning person, far from it. Usually Harry would wake him up with difficulty after noon.

This was one of the rare times that they were both off work and had an entire week to spend with each other. Harry couldn't wait!

He stretched again, completely awake now. He stood and pulled a pajama t-shirt on, walking barefooted out of the bedroom.

As he walked down the stairs, he couldn't shake away the remainders of his dream.

It showed him what could have been; an alternate reality that probably would have occurred if certain, life-changing events hadn't taken place in seventh year.

The thought of being married to Ginny Weasley was like a leaden weight in his stomach, making him pine suddenly for the man he loved.

Quickening his pace, the raven haired man took the stairs two at a time, almost jumping to the bottom and searching all through the house for his husband.

He became aware of a quiet humming in the kitchen. Harry followed the sound, entranced, he'd never heard this particular melody before. His husband sure loved to sing, but this song, it was new.

He leaned against the kitchen doorframe, taking in the spectacular sight of the rarest creature of all; the Morning Malfoy.

It was the Malfoy who's hair stuck up in all directions, unhindered by the copious amounts of gel it usually contained. The Malfoy clad only in furry slippers, a loose t-shirt and baggy panama bottoms. The Malfoy that only Harry had the pleasure to see.

In Harry's opinion, the hottest Malfoy he'd ever laid eyes upon.

Harry laughed quietly to himself before plastering a look of anger on his face and striding into the kitchen.

"Potter!" He snapped, winding his arms around Draco's waist.

The blonde tensed up for a moment, startled though his face gave away nothing. He relaxed after a moment or two, leaning backwards into Harry's arms.

"How dare you, Potter me ?As if I would take your ridiculous name. Just who do you think you are? I am a Malfoy-Potter and you bloody well know it!" Harry could see the edges of his lovers mouth twitch upwards as he spoke and took the opportunity to plant a kiss on the slightly taller mans neck.

"I had the most horrible dream." Harry pouted, burying his face in Draco's back.

"Merlin Potter, get off of me and make yourself useful. I'm trying to make coffee. Pass the milk, would you?" Draco shrugged Harry off, feigning nonchalance. Harry knew he would be questioned on his dreams in a minute, that just how Draco was. He tackled things in his own time.

Obediently, Harry handed Draco the carton of milk and seated himself at his usual spot in the living room. It was the comfiest seat in the house. An old, threadbare green chair that he practically sunk into whenever he placed himself upon it.

Harry sat there for a short while before his husband arrived. He walked slowly, somehow making the 'morning look' dashing as he swaggered over to Harry.

Draco placed both mugs next to each other on the small wooden table, then sat himself next to Harry although there was no where near enough room for them both.

He turned liquid silver eyes on Harry, blinked once, then sighed as if he was fed up with the other man already.

"Alright then, tell me." Draco was practically sitting on Harry's lap, something that was not unusual when the blonde was feeling concerned. He tended to get possessive too, Harry had discovered.

Harry didn't speak at first, he was too busy gathering his thoughts. If he was honest, the dream had terrified him a bit. The thought of living without Draco was horrifying to him now.

His husband took the silence for fear and wrapped his arms around the Aurors neck, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

He fixed Harry with his starling silver gaze. "Talk to me Scarface."

Harry felt a pang of love for the man then, he had a knack for making even the most daunting situations hilarious.

With a smirk, then a sigh, Harry returned the gaze and relayed his dream to Draco, pulling him closer as he spoke.

Eventually, he finished, eyes gleaming in the remains of the panic that had wracked him a quarter of an hour ago.

Draco's face was pensive. He was clearly thinking through what he had been told. Then, quite suddenly, a grin split his face.

"Really Harry, you dreamed about the she-weasel? Honestly, Potter, anyone would have been better than her!" Draco laughed, tracing his fingers absently through the hair on Harry's neck.

Harry smirked again, leaning forwards and throwing his arms around Draco. How he could possibly forget about this wonderful man, this blinding ray of sunshine in his life, he'd never know.