Conception of Dreams (Chapter Nine)

[freakingcrups]

Chapter Nine

The next morning, Harry was nervous. He was more than nervous. It was the day that McGonagall was going to tell everyone about them and Harry knew how it was going to end. Once again, he’d be the freak, the one who walks down the hallway with everyone’s eyes following him. At least this time, he had someone else with him.

When Harry and Draco woke, there weren’t many words exchanged. There were a couple of exchanged smiles, which was pretty new to Harry when it came to Malfoy, but there were also the awkward moments when Malfoy would say something downright snarky and Harry would glare at him.

They both dressed and made their way to breakfast together. Outside the Great Hall, Harry could already hear the laughter and boisterous conversation from the students and he felt his nerves rear up to haunt him again.

“You scared or something, Potter?”

Harry snorted. “No.”

Harry could see Malfoy smirk out of the corner of his eye. There was silence between them for a moment before Malfoy finally sighed. “I’ll sit with you.”

“What?” Harry’s head jerked to the side and he frowned at Malfoy, unsure if he had heard him right.

“Potter, you should really get your hearing checked,” he sneered in response. “I will sit with you during breakfast.”

“Why?”

“Because, just don’t argue.” Malfoy didn’t wait for Harry to say anything more. He opened the doors and stepped to the side, waiting for Harry to walk past him.

Harry stared at him in surprise, but didn’t hesitate to walk through the doors. As soon as he entered, he felt the eyes on him and it wasn’t even because of the announcement yet. It was because he was walking in with Malfoy, who seemed set on smirking at anyone that his eyes landed on. They made their way over to the Gryffindor table, where Hermione and Ron were already making room for them.

Seamus looked at Malfoy in disgust, but didn’t say anything as they took their seats.

“Malfoy,” Ron greeted with a curt nod. Malfoy replied with a nod of his own.

“Hello, Draco. How was your first night, boys?” Hermione scooped up some food on a plate and passed it to Harry. He wasn’t sure why she felt the need to treat him like a mother, but he took it anyway. He couldn’t help but notice that it was packed with food that he usually didn’t eat.

“What’s this?” Harry asked, looking from the food on the plate to Hermione.

Malfoy snickered beside him. “That, Potter, is the fibre you need for the babies.”

“What?” Harry frowned at Hermione.
Hermione blushed and cleared her throat. “I was reading about pregnancy and well, it says you need as much fibre as you can get. With the babies on the way…” She trailed off as her eyes flicked to the head table where McGonagall stood up from her chair. Her hands were raised, signalling quiet in the room. Instantly, the students quietened.

Harry blanked her out, not wanting to hear her little speech on his and Draco’s problem. He didn’t need to hear the whispers of surprise or hear her big spiel about how special it was and how lucky they were to have such a gift.

He grabbed his fork and started to work into the food. One forkful after another was shoved into his mouth in an attempt to forget about what was happening. Malfoy glanced at him every so often, but his stare never lingered for too long.

He knew when McGonagall had finished because he felt the stares on his back. They felt like daggers, thrust into his skin and only digging deeper with a twist of the blade.
He knew right at that moment that most of the students considered him a traitor, a turncoat who was hooking up with the former Death Eater’s son and while he wanted to spin around, to tell every single one of them to bite his arse, he kept his mouth shut. He concentrated on eating just to avoid looking around at the glares and stares of shock. Some would even be looking at him with pity, which was even worse than the anger and surprise.

“Harry?”

Harry didn’t look up at the sound of Hermione’s voice; he didn’t even acknowledge that she spoke.

“Potter? You okay?” Malfoy leaned in close to him and his breath was hot against Harry’s ear.

“Yeah,” Harry muttered, dropping the fork. It clattered against the plate, so loud that it vibrated through the deathly silent room.

“You look pale,” Malfoy continued. He hooked his finger around some of Harry’s hair and pulled it out of his face. Harry assumed it was so he could see him properly. “Want to get out of here?”

“Yeah,” Harry repeated. As he stood, he noticed Seamus (who was sitting on the other side of him) leaned away, as though he was afraid that he would accidently touch Harry as he stood. Harry glared at him and huffed, stepping over the long wooden seat.

Malfoy snorted and wrapped his hand around Harry’s upper arm. Harry didn’t stop him; he let Malfoy lead him out of the Great Hall.

“Did you eat enough?”

“Yeah,” Harry whispered, “But you didn’t eat at all.” He was worried about Malfoy, which was a whole new set of emotions for him.

“Aw, do you care about me, Potter?”

As soon as they walked out of the doors and away from the open doors, Harry halted their pace and grabbed Malfoy’s arm. When Malfoy turned to look at him, he sighed. “Malfoy, what’s happening to us?”

Malfoy frowned at him. “What do you mean?”

“Yes, I do care and I’m starting to feel thingsfor you.” It was hard to explain it to him. It was even harder to understand his own feelings.

Malfoy seemed to understand though because he nodded, “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” Harry raised an eyebrow. He heard the shuffle in the Great Hall and realized that it was nearly time for classes. Students would be walking out of the door soon, moving towards their morning subjects.

“Potter, I’ve told you this more times than I can count. Incubi mates are chosen based on the attraction between the Incubus and his mate. The Incubi attraction method means that the Incubus and his mate are pretty damn close to feeling something for each other, which means feelings are going to bite you in the arse when you aren’t looking.”

Harry licked his lips nervously. “Do you…?”

“Yes, Potter, I’m starting to feel the same things as you are,” Malfoy grimaced, “Why do you think I licked your arse last night? I told you I’d never do it to Blaise, doesn’t that tell you something?”

Harry opened his mouth, but snapped his jaw shut again. He hesitated, unsure what he should say to that. Last night had been an experience for him and it was hard to admit even to himself that he wanted to do it again, with Malfoy.

The doors to the Great Hall opened and students walked out. Some halted as soon as they saw Draco and Harry, watching in shock as the two boys talked. Harry sighed. This was when the staring was going to start.

“I guess I better get to class,” Harry murmured.

“Yeah,” Malfoy smirked, he raised his voice and said, “no one better touch you without my permission, Potter, I don’t want to have to rip anyone’s hands off.” With a wink, Malfoy walked towards the crowd and joined up with some of the Slytherins that strode out, Theo included.

Harry laughed and smiled at Theo, before he moved to the side of the hall, waiting for Ron. He didn’t have to wait long before he, Ron and Hermione were making their way to their first class.

“Mate, you should have seen their faces: hilarious. So many of the girls were jealous, I could see it. I heard some muttering about how you weren’t good enough for an Incubus, even Malfoy,” Ron cackled.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Wow, thanks Ron, now I feel loved.” He shifted his bag on his shoulder and smiled.

“I’m serious, mate, the birds will be glaring daggers at you for months,” Ron continued, ignoring the exasperated stare that his girlfriend gave him.

“Ronald, now you are just being sexist. A lot of the boys are jealous too, you know? Dominant Incubi blood is rare and powerful so they all want to be Malfoy,” Hermione argued, huffing angrily.
“Yeah, but they aren’t jealous of Harry, are they? The girls are.” Ron jumped away from Hermione, as though he was expecting a slap of some kind and stood on the other side of Harry. He laughed. “Come on, Mione, you know it’s true.”

Hermione seemed like she was hesitating before she grinned and shook her head. “Alright, yes. A lot of the girls aren’t happy that the one Incubus born in our time happened to hook up with a male, Harry Potter no less.”

“Let me guess,” Harry joined in on Ron’s laughter, “they were whinging about how everything happens to Harry Potter.”

“How did you guess, mate?” Ron slapped him on the shoulder, but was rewarded with a hiss of warning from Hermione. Ron’s hand snapped back quickly. “Bloody hell, sorry!”

Harry sighed. “Malfoy isn’t around.”

“But that doesn’t mean he won’t have people run back to him to let him know, Harry. He will put Ron’s head on a platter if he heard about him touching you. I mean, it’s one thing if it was a female who touched you, but a male is worse,” Hermione shook her head and sighed.

“Eight months. Eight bloody months is how long I have to put up with this no touching rule,” Harry growled, “I don’t know if I can take it. I think I will end up killing him first.”

“I know, Harry,” Hermione smiled sadly, “but you will understand soon. You will. Your own instincts will set in and you will understand everything.”

“I don’t think I want to understand, Hermione. Why does this happen to me?” Harry ran a hand through his hair. He wondered if there was someone, somewhere, who had set on making his life hell.

“Because you’re the Boy Who Lived?” Ron offered with a grin. It quickly disappeared when Hermione glared at him.

“Harry, you have to start looking at this in a positive light,” Hermione reprimanded softly.

Harry just nodded. He didn’t want to talk about it any longer. He gazed in front of him and started to walk quicker. He hated the looks he was getting and he wanted to avoid them as much as possible. As he neared the room, he stopped at the sight of Justin standing awkwardly near the door.

“Justin?” Harry frowned, “You’re not in this class.”

“I know.” Justin didn’t smile at Harry; he just licked his lips nervously and took a step towards him. “I wish you would have told me.”

Harry snorted. “And what would that have done? It doesn’t change this situation, Justin.”

“I would have understood.” Justin glanced behind him, most likely at Hermione and Ron, before he sighed. “I thought you were being a selfish git. I thought you were a wanker for going off with some other guy without breaking off our little agreement first. I didn’t…I didn’t know you had no choice.”

Harry couldn’t explain why the words angered him. All he knew was that suddenly he was irritated at what the other man said. His fists clenched and he glared. “I had a bloody choice,” he snapped angrily, “There was something there before Malfoy and I shagged, it’s the only way the Incubus song would work on me. It’s not like he raped me, Justin.”

“I never said -”

“Piss off, you bloody pillock.”

Harry pushed past Justin with a rough shoulder bump. He stormed into the classroom and took his seat. Hermione and Ron followed him, but they didn’t say a word. They were smarter than to try and start a conversation with Harry when he was irritated.

***

Two months passed swiftly. It had been much like the first month when it came to Malfoy. They were indifferent towards each other and while they had slept in the same bed, there wasn’t much happening in there except for rim jobs, blowjobs (Harry finally gave in and sucked Malfoy’s cock again) and wanking sessions. It happened more regularly than the usual Wednesday and Saturday night and some of it hadn’t been because of Malfoy.

It was only in the second month that Harry noticed that he started to want it. He wanted to be on his knees, sucking Malfoy’s cock, and he wanted to have his arse in the air, having Malfoy lick his arsehole. He couldn’t quite explain it, but the need always seemed to send sharp spikes of horniness down his body and straight to his cock.

Madame Pomfrey had told them that it was all part of an Incubi mate’s own instincts and while horniness was something that happened in normal pregnancy, an Incubi’s mate usually had a stronger sense of need.

So in the last two months that passed, it was Harry who instigated the sexual touching. Not that Malfoy complained.

Harry sighed as he looked into the mirror. He turned to the side, examining the small swell that was observable in his stomach region. When he had first noticed it, he had been with Hermione. She had asked to see his stomach and while he wondered why, he allowed her to look. She had been the one to point it out and it ended with Harry nearly bursting into tears - which he didn’t, which was more than he could say for Hermione, who tried to cover them by ‘blowing her nose because she had a cold.’ Now every morning, after using the toilet and showering, he would walk into the room, stare into the mirror and gawk at the bump that was forming.

Today was just another one of those days. He ran his hands over it, feeling the small swell and sighed. He was going to get bigger quite quickly, he knew this, and he wasn’t so sure that he liked the idea. Carrying one baby looked hard enough - he saw it in the pregnancy books that Hermione stacked his arms with - but two babies? That seemed so much harder.

“Potter, what are you doing?”

Harry jumped, hastily pushing down his shirt. He spun on his heel to look at Malfoy, who stood by the door with a smirk on his face. Harry flushed and cleared his throat.

“I was just…”

“It’s okay, Potter, I noticed it two weeks ago.” Malfoy shrugged his shoulders and sauntered into the room. He stepped in front of Harry and stared down at the now hidden bump.

“You didn’t say anything to me,” Harry huffed and crossed his arms.

“With your mood swings?” Malfoy snorted and laughed. “You would have assumed that I was calling you fat and you would have hit me with the killing curse.”

“I would not have!” He knew that his protest was weak and he sighed. He turned to look back into the mirror and once again, pulled his shirt up to look at his belly. “I’m going to get fat.”

His eyes were focused on his belly, so even in the mirror he didn’t see Malfoy step up behind him and wrap his arms around his waist. Malfoy’s hands rested on his belly, caressing the expanded skin softly. Harry stood still, unsure how to react to the loving gesture. Having Malfoy’s hands on him felt good and the babies seemed to like it because it soothed the growing nausea.

Malfoy rested his head on Harry’s shoulder and when Harry’s gaze rose, he met his eyes in the mirror. Malfoy wasn’t smirking or sneering like he expected, he was smiling. It was a small smile, but even Harry could see the happiness in it.

“Potter…” Malfoy licked his lips and opened his mouth as though he was going to say something, but hastily shut it again. The usual smirk was playing on his lips again and he loosened his hold on Harry and took a step back.

Harry turned and stared at Malfoy. He wondered if he was going to finish what he started, but with a final short, curt nod, Malfoy walked into the bathroom.

Harry sighed. He felt like they were going nowhere. Two months ago, he would have told everyone that that was what he expected because there wasn’t anything between them. Lately, Harry thought otherwise. There was something there, even if he couldn’t explain it, but it felt like Malfoy refused to explore it. It was like he didn’t want to admit to himself that it was true and considering it was Malfoy who said they should try, Harry found it strange.

He didn’t ponder on it for too long. Harry tidied up his clothes and slipped into his robe, before he left for the Great Hall.

Hermione and Ron were already waiting for him with smiles. They were sitting apart from everyone else, but they had been since McGonagall’s announcement. No one wanted to risk being anywhere near Harry, mainly because of the hazard of touching him and being maimed from an angry Incubus. Ginny, Seamus and Dean sometimes chose to sit with them, but it depended on the day. This time, it seemed they were too busy talking to some seventh years.

Harry plopped down on the seat and sighed.

“What happened?” Hermione asked tenderly. Since she pointed out the bump, she had taken on a role as a mother figure to greater lengths. Harry wasn’t sure who was getting more excited about these babies, her or Harry or even Ron, who treated Harry like he was made of china. He offered to carry Harry’s bag way too often.

“Malfoy is being Malfoy,” Harry grumbled, smiling at Ron when his best friend offered him a plate full of food. He took it and jabbed his fork with food, pushing it into his mouth.

“What did he do this time?” Hermione asked again, closing the pregnancy book she had in her hands and setting it aside.

“He did something…you know!” Harry didn’t even think he could say it.

“Affectionate?” Hermione offered with a grin.

“Yes! He did something and then ran off again, like he realized what he did and didn’t like it.” Harry shoved more food into his mouth, grumbling incoherently around his mouthful of bacon.

“Harry, this is just as hard for him as it is for you. You have hated each other for how many years? And now you are having twins together. He’s trying to understand his attraction and feelings towards you and then deal with his fatherly instincts towards his unborn children. It’s perfectly normal for him to feel conflicted,” Hermione explained.

Ron nodded furiously in agreement as he swallowed his bite of a kipper. “And his Incubi instincts will be going wild too. He’d want to protect you by any means possible and as your pregnancy progresses, his protectiveness of you with only grow stronger, mate. It’s got to be hard, you know? Dealing with those instincts when your mate is Harry bloody Potter; you have a price on your head, mate.”

Harry’s eyebrows rose as he stared at Ron. Hermione seemed just as surprised as he was because she was looking at her boyfriend with in astonishment.

When Ron finally noticed their looks, he shrugged. “If you grew up in a Pureblood family, you were taught all this stuff.”

“Why are you so understanding towards Malfoy, Ron?” Harry asked in curiosity.

He snorted. “It doesn’t mean I like the git. He’s still an arse, but he’s an arse that’s going through something tough, you know? It has to be hard, right?”

“Yeah…” Harry’s gaze flicked up when the Great Hall doors opened. It wasn’t Malfoy like he expected.

“What have you bought him for Christmas?” Hermione leaned in closer. Her question made Harry frown. He forgot how close Christmas was and while had he already thought out presents for his friends, he hadn't even thought about what to get Malfoy.

“Nothing,” Harry answered pathetically.

Hermione huffed. “Well, you’re going to have to start thinking about it, Harry, it’s only five days until Christmas, you know?”

“Yeah, but what do you buy someone who already has everything?” Harry picked at his food with his fork and sighed. He didn’t even know where to begin when it came to Malfoy. It wasn’t like he knew the blond haired git, even if he had lived with him for two months. However, he did seem to read a lot. “A book? He reads a lot.”

“Really?” His words had piqued Hermione’s interest. “What does he read?”

Harry tried to think about what books he had saw in Malfoy’s hand. They varied from week to week and he had never really paid attention to them much. “Well, there was this potion book he was reading last week.” He shrugged his shoulders.

“He seems to really like Potions, doesn’t it?” Hermione commented. She stroked her chin in thought.

“Yeah, because Snape let him get away with things in Potions, didn’t he?” Ron grumbled. He bit down on his kipper and crunched noisily on it.

“Ron, whether you care to admit it or not, Malfoy is good at Potions; I would not be surprised if he chose to find a career in the Apothecary business.” She huffed at him.

Harry shook his head at his best friends and looked towards the door again. He looked up just in time to see Malfoy step through the large doors. He looked freshly bathed and as perfectly dressed as always. He strode towards the Gryffindor table like he did every morning, and sat down beside Harry.

“Granger, Weasley.” His greeting towards Harry’s friends was always the same. It wasn’t said in complete friendliness, but it was far from rude as well.

“Hello, Draco, how did you sleep?” Hermione smiled widely.

Malfoy didn’t look up from buttering his toast. “Fine, yourself?”

He didn’t really want to know, he showed that much. However, Hermione always answered anyway. “I’m great, thank you. It’s a beautiful morning. A little chilly though.” She cocked her head towards Harry. “Harry, you need new jumpers. Yours are terrible and it’s winter now.”

“I completely agree, Granger,” Malfoy cut in before Harry could retort. “This weekend Potter and I will be going shopping.”

“Malfoy -”

“Don’t argue with me.” Malfoy glanced at Harry with an irritated stare. It was the only thing that stopped Harry from arguing. There was something about the stare - a confliction of emotions - that surprised Harry.

Harry didn’t say anything. The squawking of owls made him stare up at the ceiling and smile. After Hedwig’s death, he chose not to get a new owl, at least not yet. It felt like a betrayal and he couldn’t quite bring himself to find a new companion. So instead, he chose to use the school owls.

One of the owls flying around in particular was white and beautiful and it hurt to look at the beautiful bird because it looked so much like Hedwig. It was this owl that flew towards Harry and it broke his heart when it landed in front of them. It held out it’s leg to Harry and hesitantly, he undid the package that came with it. He fed the owl it’s treat, before it flew off.

“Harry? Are you alright?” Hermione’s worried voice broke through his haze.

He nodded hastily and reached towards the package that was wrapped in brown paper. His fingers pulled at it, but as soon as he opened it a fraction, black smoke poured out of the paper, twirling in the air in front of him. Before he knew what was happening, someone grabbed him from the chair and he was spun around. A larger body was covering his and from the scent of the other person, he knew it was Malfoy. There were screams and yells of help and then Malfoy and Harry were jolted forward. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the black smoke hit Malfoy in the back. Malfoy didn’t scream, but he grunted loudly in pain and then dropped to the floor, unconscious.

Hermione had her wand out, yelling something, and the smoke disappeared into her wand. Harry’s surroundings were unfocused. He didn’t care what Hermione or Ron was doing and he didn’t care who was yelling. All he cared about was dropping to floor; tears forming in his eyes as he reached for the unconscious man on the floor. His hands grabbed at Malfoy’s chest and he tugged at his Incubus. All he knew was that his voice was hoarse and broken and he begged, quietly, for Malfoy to wake up. He wasn’t waking though.

He felt a spell hit him in the back and his world went black.

***

When he finally came to, Hermione and Ron were sitting by his bed, smiling sadly.

“What happened?” Harry asked, grimacing at the sound of his own voice.

“Someone tried to hex you through the mail,” Hermione said softly, her own eyes watery. “Malfoy protected you.”

“Malfoy…where is he?” He didn’t wait for an answer. He was on his feet before Hermione and Ron even stood from their chairs. He walked down the ward, unfocused on where he was going. He could hear Hermione and Ron calling out his name, they were obviously following him, but he didn’t pay attention to them.

There was a room to the left and Harry knew he had to be in there. He could sense him. He burst through the door.

Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy already sat beside their son’s bed. As soon as the door opened, their eyes shot up and their wands were in their hands in a quick second. After seeing that it was Harry who entered though, only Mrs. Malfoy returned her wand to her robe.

“Harry…” She stood, reaching out to touch him.

He avoided her touch and made his way straight over to the bed. He didn’t know what compelled him to crawl in beside Malfoy, but he slithered his way into the covers and wrapped his arm around his abdomen. His head rested on the shoulder of the unconscious man.

“Harry?” Mrs. Malfoy smiled sadly, just as Hermione and Ron had done before.

“Is he okay?” Harry murmured quietly, closing his eyes and breathing in the scent of his Incubus - the father of his children.

“They don’t know,” she answered just as quietly.

“Who did it?” He was going to kill them for what they’ve done. He fisted Malfoy’s shirt, holding on desperately to him.

“We don’t know.” Mr. Malfoy spoke this time. His voice betrayed the same anger that Harry felt. “It was aimed at you, Potter. A Death Eater after revenge, we assume. The hex was a very dangerous one. It slowly kills a person by eating them inside outside.”

“Do you think telling him that will help?”

Harry knew that voice. Hermione was furious.

“He needs to know the truth. There is very little chance for Draco.”

Harry understood Mr. Malfoy. He understood his anger and he understood the pain that was barely audible in the voice. If he hadn’t grown use to Draco’s voice, he would have missed it in Mr. Malfoy’s. They were alike in a lot of ways.

“Can he fight it?” Harry swallowed the bile that rose in his throat.

“Yes.” Mrs. Malfoy’s hand touched Harry’s shoulder. He didn’t push it away, it was comforting. “It’s very hard to do and very few wizards are able to do it, but he can.”

“I want him to,” Harry choked as the tears started to leak from his closed eyelids. He felt them trail down his face. “I want him back. He can’t die; he’s the father of my children.”

He heard a sob in the corner of the room and he knew it was Hermione.

“He’s strong, Harry, so strong.” Mrs. Malfoy’s voice was a tad quieter than usual and it sounded as though she was trying to reassure herself as well. “He has you and your children. He will come through this.”

Harry didn’t say anything else. He just hung on to Malfoy tightly and refused to let go. He let sleep take him.

It had been three days of nothing. No matter how tightly he held his Incubus, no matter how much he pressed Malfoy’s hand to his swelling stomach and no matter how much he begged Malfoy to wake, he didn’t.

He had many visitors, from Theo and Blaise to Justin and Ginny, all wishing Malfoy to health. It was hard to try and stay strong and it was even harder to hold onto hope. Harry hardly left the room other to shower and use the loo. Hermione brought him in pregnancy and Incubi books and it only took him a day to read through them all. McGonagall even set up private tutoring sessions in Malfoy’s room and while he had tried his hardest to pay attention, it was too difficult. Pomfrey tried various things on Malfoy, but none of them worked. She tried to reason that his body was fighting against the hex, but Harry wasn’t so sure anymore.

“Mate?” Ron’s head darted through the open door and he looked into the room. “Hey.”

Harry tried to smile, but even that was tough. This morning he felt particularly ill. He had eaten; he had been forced to every time it was breakfast, lunch and dinner over the last three days, and every time he had, he felt the nausea rising. Today, however, it was so much worse. He felt like he was on the edge of passing out.

“Hey,” Harry greeted in a small voice.

“You okay? You don’t look well.” Ron reached out to touch Harry, but Harry shook his head to stop him. Ron nodded in understanding. “How is he doing?”

“Not any better than yesterday or the day before,” Harry answered with a sigh. He reached out to grip the cold, lifeless hand in his own. “Do you think he’ll be okay?”

“‘Course he will be, mate. He’s Malfoy, isn’t it? Born to make your life hell; he’ll be back to normal in no time and you’ll wonder why you even wanted the git back.”

Harry tried to laugh at Ron’s joke, but it came out small and unsure. “This is bollocks, Ron. That curse was for me and-”

“You’re not going to start one of your self-pitying tirades, are you?” Ron crossed his arms angrily.

“No…” However, not even Harry could pretend that he wasn’t. His best friend knew him too well.

“Mate, Malfoy jumped in front of you for a reason. You’re carrying his children and you are his mate. He was being a good father. Probably the most courageous thing he’s ever done in his life.”

Harry snorted. If he could say something about this little situation, it did prove what a good father Malfoy would be. He cared which was more than what Harry could say for some fathers.

“I want him awake.” Harry shook his head. “I don’t care if he’s his usual git self, I just want him back.”

“Who would have thought, huh?” Ron smiled. He walked closer to the bed and patted Malfoy’s hand with fast and awkward touches. “You better wake up before Christmas, Malfoy, or I’ll castrate you, you got that?”

Harry actually chuckled at that. “Please don’t. I hear Incubi need their manhood.”

Ron laughed loudly. “Well, it would save you from getting knocked up with more of Malfoy’s children, wouldn’t it?”

Harry snorted and nodded. “I forgot it was two days until Christmas.”

Ron nodded in sympathy. “Yeah, we assumed you might have. Hermione bought you something to give to Malfoy when he wakes.”

Harry smiled. He rose from his chair and threw his arms around Ron’s neck, burying his face in the expanse of skin on his friend’s neck. “Thanks mate.”

Ron patted his back awkwardly. “Yeah, you’re welcome.”

It was only when Harry pulled back that he felt the embarrassment of his actions roll over him. He flushed. “Sorry, Ron, I just…”

“Yeah! Yeah, of course.” Ron laughed nervously. He scratched the back of his neck. “The whole pregnancy hormones thing, I get it.”

Harry didn’t know if that was the reason why he hugged Ron, but he nodded in agreement anyway. There was no other way of explaining it. He sat down in his chair once more and rested his hand on the bed.

The bed squeaked and Harry’s eyes darted to the cot. Malfoy didn’t seem to have moved - his eyes were still shut tightly and he still lay on his back, but Harry was positive his hand had moved. No longer was it lifeless, but it was closer to Harry’s, as though he was reaching out to try and hold his hand.

“Ron…did you…?”

“I heard it, yeah.” Ron took a step closer. “Malfoy, you awake?”

There was no answer.

“Could we have been imagining it?” Harry asked, the hope was quickly turning rancid inside of his stomach until it was no longer optimism, but a new bout of nausea.

“No,” Ron shook his head furiously. “Harry…” He walked towards Harry and grasped his shoulders, pulling him out of the chair. Ron’s arms wrapped around Harry’s waist, bringing his swollen stomach and chest flushed against Ron’s.

“Ron!”

“Trust me, mate.”

Harry opened his mouth to retaliate when a growl reverberated around the room. Harry pushed at Ron’s chest and spun on his heel, eyes wide at the sight of bleary eyed Malfoy glaring daggers at Harry’s best friend.

“Malfoy!” Harry didn’t know what possessed him, but he strode over to the bed and threw his arms around the half-conscious man. Malfoy caught him with a umph and accompanied with an incoherent mumble, his arms encircled Harry as well.

“I thought you were dead.”

Malfoy said something again, but his voice was too quiet and gruff for Harry to understand.

“Drink this, Malfoy.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Ron pass him a glass of water. Harry tried to pull away to give him room to drink, but Malfoy’s hands on tightened their hold around his waist. Malfoy brought the cup to his lips and sipped the water timidly before he quickly handed it back to Ron.

“Malfoy?” Harry pressed his face into Malfoy’s neck, breathing in his scent.

“Weasley…” Malfoy moved his head, but Harry couldn’t see what he was looking at. His face was too far pressed into his neck. “If-f you touch my mate again-again, I will rip off your head.” His voice sounded raspy.

Harry actually chuckled at the threat. “Glad to have you back, Malfoy.”

Ron cleared his throat. “I think…I think I might just leave.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Malfoy snapped. It was a little hard to hear him, but his intent was clear.

Harry pulled back and turned to smile softly at Ron. Ron looked nervous as he nodded and started backing out towards the door.

“I’ll see you later, mate.”

“Thank you, Ron.” It was his best friend, after all, that realized what could wake Malfoy up. It was weird, for Malfoy to wake from consciousness when he felt threatened in losing his mate to another man.

Ron nodded and slipped out of the door.

Malfoy groaned and pressed a hand to his chest. He sounded like he was having trouble breathing. Harry reached over to massage the skin, right where his heart will be. Malfoy closed his eyes and moaned.

“You okay, git?” Harry licked his lips.

“Fine,” he breathed in deeply, “Scared, Potter?”

Harry grunted. “No; just waiting for your lazy arse to wake up. Had a nice sleep then?”

Malfoy opened his eyes and smirked at Harry. He reached out, his hand slipping under Harry’s shirt to caress the skin of his belly. “They okay?”
Harry couldn’t help the small lopsided smile that slid onto his lips, “Fine because of you.”

“I think this is the moment where you thank me, Potter.” Malfoy raised an eyebrow. He pressed his palm flat against Harry’s swollen stomach, his hand rubbing the expanded skin. The nausea that stirred in his stomach soothed.

Harry pursed his lips to stop the smile from growing. “Now why would I do that? I can handle myself, Malfoy.”

Malfoy snorted. “You have proven otherwise, Potter.” His gray eyes scanned Harry’s face. He looked solemn as he continued to speak, “Really though, you okay?”

The concern in his voice surprised Harry. He smiled none the less. “Fine,” He licked his lips. “Thank you, Malfoy.” His voice was soft and unsure.

Malfoy nodded sharply and looked around the room as though he was uncertain what to say next. He didn’t need to find anything to say anyway, not when his parents slammed open the door.

Mrs. Malfoy rushed forward and as Harry made a move to shift out of the way, Malfoy grasped his arm and brought him against his chest. Something inside of Harry told him it was because to Malfoy, he nearly lost his family. His family would have been poisoned if he had not jumped in front of Harry.

So he let Malfoy hold him against his chest. He shifted to get more comfortable before resting his head on a warm, bare chest. He could feel his heartbeat - a slow, rhythmic sound that vibrated through his chest - and Harry didn’t think he’d ever heard something so beautiful. It was hard to admit even to himself how great it was to have Malfoy awake again.

“Draco.” Mrs. Malfoy smiled tenderly as she reached out to run her fingers over her son’s forehead. “Mr. Weasley told us you were awake.”

“Mother,” Malfoy closed his eyes under his mother’s touch. Harry could relate, Mrs. Weasley was the perfect mother figure and there was nothing better than a mother’s soothing touch.

“I was afraid for you,” she murmured. Her blue eyes darted to Harry - she gave him a smile - before the rested back on her son’s face. “So was your mate.”

Harry didn’t deny her statement. It was not only the truth, but to deny it would have been rude of his behalf.

“Of course he was.” Harry didn’t need to look at Malfoy to see the smirk on his face.

Mr. Malfoy snorted. “Good to see that you are well, Draco.”

“Well? I would hardly call myself well, father. I feel like I have a hole in my chest,” Malfoy sneered back at his father.

“Better than what you could be,” was the retort in the same sneering tone. Like father, like son. Harry grunted at the thought. “Problem, Potter?”

“No.” Harry glanced at Mr. Malfoy out of the corner of his eye. He looked weary, as though he hadn’t slept much. He had bags under his eyes and his hair was a mess, which was certainly unusual for a Malfoy. He looked paler than usual and even his voice dripped with fatigue. “You okay, Mr. Malfoy?”

He looked shocked at Harry’s question, “Fine.”

“We have been busy,” Mrs. Malfoy answered with a smile, “We are researching any possible suspects for your attack, Harry. They must be found as soon as possible.”

“Any leads?”

Harry shivered when he felt the hot breath against his face as he looked up into the irritated face of his Incubus. Apparently, he wanted revenge.

“We have a couple,” Mrs. Malfoy replied quietly. “But do not worry yourself, Draco, we will sort this out. No one threatens family.”

Harry smiled his thanks. He wasn’t quite sure what to say to something like that yet. It was all new to him.

“Now Harry, you are coming to my Valentine’s ball, yes? Draco never gave me an answer.” Mrs. Malfoy reached over to pat his arm.

Harry stared at her in horror. Not only had he forgotten all about the ball, he was dreading the thought of going. He could not dance to save his life. It was in two months and he hadn’t even thought about it since Draco first mentioned it. “Mrs. Malfoy…”

“Costume, I assume?” She chuckled. “No problem. I will have our seamstress create one for you from the finest material. It will be all ready for you by the time February comes around. Draco will bring you to the Manor on the day and I will help you look your best, yes?”

Harry gulped any remaining moisture in his mouth. He tried to smile, he really did, but he suspected that it looked forced.

“And I believe you should visit the Manor for Christmas. Wouldn’t that be lovely?” Mrs. Malfoy continued with a smile of excitement.

“But Christmas is in two days, Mother. What if I’m too sore and ill for that?” Draco whined.

“Oh hush, Draco. Madame Pomfrey will give you a few replenishing potions and you will be as good as new.” She smiled down at him lovingly. “And we are so happy you are back with us, My Little Dragon.”

“Mother!” Draco’s cheeks tinged pink and he glared at his mother. “Don’t call me that.”

Harry couldn’t help but laugh at the image Malfoy made. “Little Dragon?” He teased with more laughter.

Malfoy glowered at him, “If you mention that to anyone, Potter, I will make you live to regret it.”

Harry raised his head. He couldn’t help but lean up and pressed a light kiss to his Incubi’s jaw. Even Malfoy seemed surprised by the gesture, “If you say so, Little Dragon.”

Malfoy growled loudly.

Mr. Malfoy even chuckled. “I’ll go get that nutty bat of a nurse.”

“Lucius!”

→→→ Chapter Ten