Conception of Dreams (Chapter Seven)

[freakingcrups]

Chapter Seven

The next day Harry had received a letter from Malfoy telling him that the appointment was on Monday at 2pm like their last appointment. Harry had explained to Hermione and Ron what happened the night before and Ron found the waitress incident hilarious, however he wasn’t really interested in the rest of it. Hermione, on the other hand, was excited to hear that they were progressing in their relationship. She had explained to Harry that Malfoy had been exceptionally nice to everyone and that no one could recall the last time Malfoy had severely insulted or tried to hex someone. Harry agreed that he was getting better and that maybe he deserved a reward for his good behaviour. Which he felt bad for saying because it sounded like Malfoy was a Crup!

That night, he met Malfoy in the Room of Requirement. He was waiting for him on the couch and when he saw Harry, he smirked.

“About time, Potter, I thought I would have to jerk myself off.”

Harry rolled his eyes, but laughed none the less. “Go ahead, Malfoy. You’re the one who would miss out that chance to have my warm body pressed against your own, begging you to rut against me.”

Malfoy let out a strangled groan and stood. He strode over to Harry in three long strides and grasped his upper arms. He pulled Harry into a fierce kiss, their lips colliding in a passionate battle of dominance. Tongues entangled with each other and Malfoy’s grabby hands seized the cheeks of Harry’s arse and pushed his body forward, causing their cocks to brush against each other through layers of clothes. Harry moaned into the kiss, he had never had such an intense snog before.

When the desire for air became too great, the kiss broke and Harry gasped. He laughed softly, earning him a confused look from an out of breath Malfoy.

“Wow!” Harry exclaimed, “Who knew that you would continually be the best kiss of my life, Malfoy?”

Malfoy grunted. “I’ll be your only kisser from now on, Potter.”

Harry laughed again, louder this time. “You actually don’t see me complaining this time.” He walked over to the couch and sat down on it. Malfoy peered at him, but followed him to the cushioned seat. “I’ve heard from Hermione that you’ve been a good boy,” he teased lightly.

Malfoy glared at him, “I’m not a Crup, Potter,” he drawled, those sharp grey eyes narrowing even further.

“I know,” Harry answered with a wide smile. “I just wanted to say that for your good behaviour, I have a gift.”

“Oh really?” Malfoy raised an eyebrow, a smirk lazily playing on his lips as he leant back on the sofa, his arm resting behind Harry. Harry glanced over his shoulder at it before looking back at Malfoy.

“Mhm. Do you want it?” Harry grinned wickedly at him.

“Definitely,” Malfoy’s eyes lit up and he looked like a child in a toy store. He didn’t even know what he was getting, but at the mention of a gift, he was very excited. It amused Harry.

Harry winked at him and slipped onto the floor on his knees. He shimmied himself so he rested between Malfoy’s legs, which instinctively opened further.

“What are you doing, Potter?” Malfoy’s voice was scratchy and his eyes once again darkened, this time with desire. He stared at Harry like a predator would to a prey that it was trying to catch and it made Harry shuffle a little with nerves.

He smiled up at Malfoy. “I said you get a reward.” He reached up to Malfoy’s belt and worked on the buckle. The button and zip of his pants were next and when he patted Malfoy’s thigh, Malfoy lifted his hips so Harry could pull the offending pants over his arse and down his thighs until they rested at his knees.

Harry shuffled closer and stared at the half hard cock. It had to have reacted to the earlier brush of cocks and Harry didn’t blame Malfoy for being turned on. He, too, was half hard from the snogging and frotting. He took the growing erection into his hand and his tongue darted out to taste the tip of it. Malfoy’s hips jerked forward and he let out a hiss of pleasure.

“Merlin, Potter.”

Harry grinned up at Malfoy. He didn’t know what made him want to give Malfoy a blowjob, but now that he was on his knees, his cock in his hand, he definitely didn’t have a change of mind. It was heavy in his palm and with each new lick, Malfoy grew harder. Harry stared at the head of the erection, flushed an angry red, and took it into his mouth. He suckled on it, the salty taste of the skin marking his tongue. He very rarely gave Justin blow jobs, mostly because he didn’t like the taste of his cock, but Malfoy seemed different - he tasted good.

He released the cock with a quiet pop, leaving behind his saliva. He licked the underside of it, starting at the base and ending at the tip, causing another long, drawn out moan to escape from Malfoy’s open lips. Harry watched the way his eyes rolled in the back of his head and his fists clenched in his own hair, gripping it tightly and mussing the neat style it was set in.

Harry licked his lips, catching the taste caught on his mouth and grasped the hard erection in his hand again. He kissed the underside towards the base, before spreading the kisses over Malfoy’s balls. He took one of them in his mouth, sucking and pulling on them gently.

Malfoy’s hand reached down to grab Harry’s hair. His fingers massaged his skull before he entwined his fingers in the messy locks, tugging at the strands in desperation. Harry once more released the balls and went back to the cock that jutted out, begging for attention. He slid the erection into his mouth as far as he could get it until his gagging reflexes jolted into action, before slipping it out and in again. He repeated the actions while his hands rolled his balls in his palm. At one point, when he had Malfoy’s cock as far as he could get it into his mouth, Malfoy’s hips jerked up, causing the tip of his erection to hit the back of Harry’s throat and make him gag to the point that he needed to pull it out completely to breathe.

“Malfoy,” Harry warned lowly, breathing deeply through his nostrils as he regained his composure.

“Sorry,” Malfoy panted, jerking his hips again.

Harry took the hint. He sucked on the head of the cock and inch by inch took the cock back into his mouth. With tongue movements and hard sucks, it wasn’t long before Malfoy was groaning loudly and coming down his throat without warning. Harry was proud that he didn’t choke on it, because it wasn’t a little amount of semen that left Malfoy’s cock either.

After he summoned himself a drink of water, gulping down the liquid needily, he stared at Malfoy.

“Like your gift then?”

Malfoy was standing, redoing the zip and button of his trousers. “It was brilliant, Potter.” He rested back on the couch and watched Harry with a thoughtful stare that sent shivers down Harry’s spine.

Harry nodded. They didn’t have much to say after that and to be honest, Harry didn’t want much said. It was a new starting point for them and he didn’t want it to become awkward. And it hadn’t, if anything, it became easier on both of them.

The next day, Harry had seen Malfoy in Potions and he had motioned Harry to sit next to him. Harry didn’t see any trouble in it, so he did. Hermione seemed okay with it as well because she sat in front of them with Theo, but the other Gryffindors (the seventh years), and even some Slytherins seemed surprised and disgusted by it. Professor Slughorn had even stopped in the middle of his lecture when he finally realized where Harry and Hermione were sitting, before quickly regaining his composure and continuing.
The potion they were working on was difficult and at one point, Harry was having a hard time squashing some of the vines Slughorn handed out, but Malfoy had covered Harry’s hands with his own and showed him how to do it easily while using his hands in demonstration. Harry could feel himself blush and with a quick glance to his right, he saw Ginny’s eyes widen and she openly gaped at them.

Theo and Hermione seemed to get along just as well. Harry even heard some giggling and quiet murmurs of “oh shush” and “oh Theo, no” followed by more giggles. Harry trusted Hermione though, he knew she loved Ron, but he was secretly glad that she was getting along with one of Malfoy’s friends, or as Theo had called it, acquaintances.

By the time two o’clock came around, Harry walked into the hospital wing to once again be greeted by the sight of Malfoy reading. He didn’t glance up from the magazine he was browsing when Harry entered.

“Do you know how they are going to get the babies out?” Malfoy asked as soon as Harry walked towards him.

“No,” Harry answered, moving to sit in the seat next to Malfoy and setting down his bag on the floor.

“They use a variety of cutting spells. Because you don’t have a pussy-”

“Malfoy, manners!”

“Fine, because you don’t have a vagina, you can’t push the babies out obviously. It says in this magazine that depending on your weight and health, they have a variety of cutting spells to use. It decides on how big they cut you open and all of that poppycock. Then they use a healing spell and close the wound.” Malfoy finally raised his eyes to meet Harry’s, “So glad it’s not me that’s pregnant, Potter.”

Harry glowered at him. “You’ll still be there, Malfoy. I’m not going to give birth to those babies unless you are there.”

Malfoy snorted as if to say that Harry wished, but Harry knew that he wouldn’t miss it. Malfoy seemed to care a lot for these babies already and Harry was only about two weeks along.

When Madame Pomfrey ushered them into a private room, she tutted at them, “What happened? Why are you here again?” She asked, scanning Harry’s body for any obvious injuries.

“Actually, we’re here to discuss Potter’s pregnancy,” Malfoy answered. He sat on the edge of the bed and slid into it beside Harry so their shoulders were brushing.

“Oh really? I suppose you’ll want information about male pregnancy?” She pulled out her wand and pressed it to Harry’s temple. Harry stared up at it cross eyed until she removed it again.

“Yes, we would,” Harry responded, “if you would give it to us.”

“Of course I would. And just in case you were wondering, I was checking your temperature.” Madame Pomfrey tutted again and summoned a stool. She sat down on it and crossed her legs. “Now, what would you like to know?”

“As much as we can; Potter is already showing symptoms; like vomiting and food cravings.”

“Mr. Malfoy,” she sent him a pointed look, “it is too early for food cravings. If Mr. Potter is eating an excess amount of food,” Harry nodded at this, “it’s not because he’s craving for the babies. It’s because he’s worrying.”

“What do you mean?” Harry questioned, frowning at the nurse.

“I mean that you are worrying over the fact that you need to provide for your children. You are worrying over being a parent. It’s known to happen with Incubi mates. The children are very important to the Incubi and as such, the mates feel the need to protect them because that importance is, well, you could say it’s pushed on to them by the Incubus. You know how important these twins are to Mr. Malfoy, so you are doing everything in your power to provide for them, even when it’s too early for you to be worrying over such a thing. You are only two weeks pregnant, Mr. Potter.”

“So, I’m purposely eating a lot because I think it will help with the babies health, while right now, I don’t need to eat so much?” Harry said it slowly so he understood just exactly what Madame Pomfrey was saying.

“Exactly. Your body is reacting to your Incubus and his need to protect.” Madame Pomfrey glanced between the two males and gave them a strained smile, “I see the relationship is progressing. Have you had sexual intercourse again?”

Harry’s eyes widened at the question. He glanced at Malfoy and noticed that he seemed to be in a similar state. His cheeks were pinched with a light pink and his lips were pursed.

Harry chose to answer it. “Er, sort of? Last night was only the second night we’ve met up to get Malfoy off, you know?”

Madame Pomfrey nodded furiously. “I can understand that, but the question was if sexual intercourse took part of Mr. Malfoy’s release, Mr. Potter. This isn’t a question you should feel embarrassed nor pressured with. A simple yes or no will suffice.”

Harry flushed and cleared his throat. “Well…no. I’ve given him a blowjob though, so we’re getting there, you know?”

Malfoy snorted and glared at Harry. “Do you want to tell her how we were positioned too?”

Madame Pomfrey shook her head. “I need to know this information, Mr. Malfoy, no reason to be embarrassed. Oral sex is a stepping stone to sexual intercourse. You are going the right way about it. What you must understand is that the more time that goes by, the more Mr. Potter will feel just as desperate for your touch. However, the difference is, because of his pregnancy, he will need you inside of him. He can get these urges at any time or anywhere and you must be ready for them. May I suggest carrying around a tube of lube as well? Spelled lube can have horrible after effects on some pregnant men.”

Harry didn’t think it was possible to blush any harder than he was at that moment. He wondered if every ounce of blood in his body was currently rushing to his face, heating it up. His body tensed in discomfiture and he could feel Malfoy’s own rigid shoulder next to him. Harry didn’t have the courage to even glance at the blond.

“So,” Harry cleared his throat and reached up to scratch his neck nervously, “I’ll er…”

“Yes, Potter, she’s saying you’ll be horny,” Malfoy snapped, not even giving him a glance, “now if you don’t mind, I’d rather not talk about our sex life with Pomfrey.”

“We don’t have a sex life,” Harry mumbled, sending Malfoy a glare that held no contempt.

“Yes well, we could if you agreed to shag,” Malfoy bit back.

“As if I’d let you put your cock inside of me again, Malfoy,” Harry’s voice rose as the anger burned in his stomach.

“Enough! Really, you act like children.” Madame Pomfrey crossed her arms and glared at both of them. “We will leave it at the point where I tell you that Mr. Potter will crave for you, Mr. Malfoy. Whether you both deny it or not, you were put together because of your attraction for the other. Now, what other questions did you have about your pregnancy?”

Harry’s anger dissipated, being replaced by guilt. “I want to know everything. I want to be a good dad.”

“Mr. Potter, a person cannot learn to be a good parent through a book. They learn from experience, just like you and Mr. Malfoy will. I can’t tell you everything you need to know about your pregnancy, you need to do a little research on your own. But may I suggest talking to Mr. Malfoy and asking for books specifically on Incubi and their mate’s pregnancy. Every Pureblood family usually has some books on them, in a better be safe than sorry manner. One never knows when a man in their family will have dominant Incubi genes.”

“Can it happen to Halfbloods or Muggleborns?” Harry quickly asked.

Madame Pomfrey hummed in thought. “Not so much, no. If one was a Muggleborn, they do not have any magic in their family’s history at all.”

“But if magic came from Incubi mating with Muggles, then how did Muggleborns get that magic in the first place then?”

“Please, Mr. Potter, one question at a time. Why haven’t you been reading the book that was given to Miss Granger?”

Harry flushed at the question and shrugged his shoulders. “I didn’t feel the need to.”

“Well you better start reading it. Magic is a complicated thing, Mr. Potter. Yes, the Incubi bred with Muggles, which made wizards and witches and magic. In legends, it says that Muggleborns come from magic families as well, but the magic in their family was long forgotten after the first generation that was born from the Incubi and Muggle parents.” She raised her hand before Harry could interrupt. “Before you interrupt, let me explain.”

Harry nodded reluctantly and closed his mouth. Malfoy didn’t seem to utter the word, he was too busy staring his fingernails and purposely yawning in feint boredom.

“No one truly knows what happened back then. It was a very long time ago, Mr. Potter, before books could be written and maybe even before we knew how to write. However, the legend says that in some Incubi and Muggle unions, the children felt that the magic was wrong; it was evil, so they refused to do it. Their views were carried on though their children and grandchildren and so on, before magic were no longer in their blood and they were once again, Muggles. But like the dominant Incubi blood, magic can find its way back to being inside a person even when they do not come from a long line of wizards.”

“So once upon a time, Hermione had a full blooded Incubus in her family?”

“Yes,” Madame Pomfrey shook her head, “as such, it can be possible for a Muggleborn or a Halfblood to gain some Incubi blood, but the ratio is quite small. It has never happened before, or at least, it hasn’t been recorded.” She smiled and reached over to pat Harry’s shoulder comfortingly, “To have an Incubi as a mate is a privilege. While you may not see eye to eye with Mr. Malfoy, you’ve found yourself a forever partner, Mr. Potter; someone that you can trust to never betray you.”

“Yes, yes,” Malfoy waved his hand dramatically, “now we’re over this ridiculous little talk, can we get on to the stuff we want to know. Symptoms? You know? Potter is already a moody bastard, but I think that’s just him.”

Harry glowered at him. “Don’t forget that you get rewards for being nice, Malfoy.” He turned his stare to the nurse and sighed. “When will I start showing?”

“Being that you’re pregnant with twins…I’d say around eight weeks, maybe less. It’s different for everyone, but seeing as you’re a fit young man carrying twins, I would assume quite early on,” she cocked her head at Malfoy, “do you have a question, Mr. Malfoy?”

“Er,” Malfoy looked at Harry out of the corner of his eye, “when will this horny streak come on? You know? So I can be ready with lube and that?”

Harry coughed and gaped at the other man, not quite believing that Malfoy had just asked that question.

Madame Pomfrey laughed. “Well I’ve done my own research and it varies with each Incubi mate. One man was horny, as you call it, by eight weeks, while a female Incubi mate was feeling the need by twenty weeks. It depends on how Mr. Potter’s body handles it. In my opinion, however, by the progressing of his instincts, I’d say it would start quite early. So I may I suggest that you work on getting yourselves to intercourse before that need sets in? It could get quite embarrassing and Mr. Potter could become quite…rough while trying to get you inside of him.”

Harry nodded hastily and stood from the bed. “You know what? I think I can read the rest in the book. You can stay around if you want, Malfoy, but I er…I just remembered I promised Hermione I’d meet her in the library. See you around, Malfoy!”

He heard Malfoy calling his name as he ran out of the hospital wing, but he ignored it. He couldn’t face Malfoy, not with the amount of embarrassment coursing through his body. He didn’t even know why Malfoy brought it up again; he was the one who changed the topic in the first place.

***

Harry groaned as his wand buzzed and shook on the cabinet beside his bed, alarming him to wake up. It had been another week since they went to Madame Pomfrey and he didn’t want to get up. Malfoy hadn’t said much about the visit to the Hospital Wing and Harry was thankful.

They went back to the usual rutting, but that was only after Malfoy asked if he was getting a blowjob again and Harry refused. He knew he was being stubborn, but he wanted to make him suffer for asking the question of Madame Pomfrey. He knew to some extent, they needed to know, but it made Harry feel as though all Malfoy wanted from him was a shag. It made him question if that one date night was just to get in his good books to get what he wanted.

He had no problem with shagging, which is why Justin was only a shag buddy, but Malfoy was the father of the twins he was carrying and he wanted to make something of it. If they were to be a family, he wanted to like Malfoy for who he was, not for how good he was in bed.

Harry had even told Malfoy that, but he was only answered with a snigger and an insult about ‘Potty wanting a romantic relationship.’ For that comment, which happened on the Wednesday, Harry refused to see Malfoy on the Saturday. Malfoy had even come to the Gryffindor tower, snarling at Hermione to allow him to see Harry. Hermione refused. It had the Gryffindors asking questions, but in her own way, Hermione told them to mind their own business.

But it was Monday again and even with all the avoiding Malfoy on the weekend, Harry knew he couldn’t hide in the dormitory. He had classes and McGonagall would skin him alive for being late for her class. He had already missed breakfast and his stomach rumbled. He groaned and slipped out of bed. He didn’t make it far before he was racing to the loo, vomiting. It had started three days ago, on the Saturday morning and every morning since, he woke up with morning sickness. Hermione had offered to brew him something, but he refused. Now, though, he was seriously reconsidering it.

A quick, hot shower did wonders on easing the sick sensation and he quickly dressed, grabbed his bag and ran down to McGonagall’s class. As soon as he reached the room, he tried not to groan. The seat next to Malfoy was his only option and the git was looking at him expectantly. Hermione saw this and stood, as if she was going to walk over to Malfoy and sit next to him, but he growled - actually growled in front of everyone - which caused her to glare at him, but sit back down in her own seat.

Harry shook his head at her, but smiled thankfully as he made his way over to the seat beside Malfoy. He plopped down at on it, but didn’t look at him.

“I’m sorry, Potter.”

Harry didn’t acknowledge his words. He pulled out his scroll, ink and quill and set it up just as McGonagall stood from behind her desk and started talking.

“Potter,” his voice was hushed and sounded as though he was desperate for Harry’s attention.

“Piss off, Malfoy,” Harry hissed back. His stomach rumbled and he flushed, looking at anywhere but Malfoy.

Malfoy snorted and opened his bag. McGonagall sent a pointed look at them and continued to talk. Malfoy didn’t seem to notice as he pulled out a small, white container. He opened it and a strong scent of food assaulted Harry’s nostrils. He had to stop himself from groaning as his stomach grumbled. Harry knew McGonagall saw the container, but she was pointedly ignoring it as though she already knew he had missed breakfast. Out of the corner of his eye - he still wasn’t looking at Malfoy, thank you very much - he saw bacon, an egg, and kippers. Malfoy cast a heating spell on them.

“Eat, Potter, you weren’t at breakfast. You need energy for the babies,” Malfoy pushed the container towards him. He conjured a fork and put it next to the container.

Harry glanced around the room, only to realize that quite a few of the students, seventh and eighth years alike, were trying to watch them, but it was hard to do with McGonagall hovering around. He didn’t care though, he was too hungry. He grabbed the container and fork and starting eating. He thanked Merlin that they sat at the back of the room, so that every time someone glanced at them, they were scolded by McGonagall.

“This doesn’t mean I forgive you, Malfoy,” Harry muttered quietly, sending a glare towards the blond.

Malfoy grunted. “I said I was sorry. I didn’t know you liked all that romantic stuff, Potter.”

“Well considering we are having children together, I thought it would good to be an actual family when they arrive, you know?” Harry shoved some bacon into his mouth and chewed, “although, I should ask if you even knew what being a family was like.” He knew it was harsh, but Malfoy had insulted his ideals. He had insulted his dreams and he hated him for it.

Malfoy growled, “Piss off, Potter.” He leaned in further to whisper angrily at Harry, “You might believe that my family is evil and unloving, but my parents did the best they could. They love me and they taught me how to protect myself.”

“And they taught you how to be a right git, didn’t they?” Another two strips of bacon were shoved into his mouth.

Malfoy’s eyes darkened, reminding Harry of what he was and what he could do to him. He hadn’t seen Malfoy in a rage, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to. However, the anger disappeared as quickly as it appeared; leaving sadness in those grey eyes that stared at Harry.

“You insulted me, Potter. I asked to be your friend and you turned me down.” His words were said gently, the gentlest as Harry had ever heard from him.

“You insulted Ron’s family,” Harry argued back, “he was my second friend. And you insulted Hagrid,he was my first.”

“I had no reason to insult Hagrid, I admit that, but Weasley snorted at my name. How is that any different?”

It was a good question, Harry had to admit. He turned his gaze away from Malfoy, instead fixing his eyes on the food. He dropped the fork and grabbed a kipper, chewing on the end of it thoughtfully. He saw Ginny turn and smile at him, and around the food in his mouth, he smiled back.

“Listen. Potter, you have to stop asking me to apologise. It’s not good for my reputation,” Malfoy drawled.

Harry tilted his head and realised that Malfoy was attempting a joke. He gave Harry a lopsided smile and shrugged his shoulders. Harry couldn’t help the smile that broke out on his face. “Really, Malfoy? Maybe I should try to get you to apologize more then?”

“Please don’t. I already have Zabini on my arse about the rumours going around about us,” Malfoy snorted and grabbed his quill. He dipped it in his opened bottle of ink and looked up at the blackboard, copying down the notes on there. It made Harry realize that they will still in class. He reached for his own quill, but Malfoy shook his head. “Just eat, I’ll copy them down for you, Potter. But you owe me.”

“What? A blowjob?”

The student in front of them, a Slytherin boy, choked and Harry realized he said it a little too loud. He lowered his voice, “I thought you told the Slytherins.”

“I told the eighth year Slytherins, not the seventh years. As if I care about them,” Malfoy laughed hauntingly, “but thanks to you, the whole school might know…” he paused, smirked at Harry and raised his voice slightly, “that you gave me a blowjob.”

The Slytherin’s hand, that was writing on the scroll slipped, knocked his bottle on ink on the ground. The poor boy scrambled to the floor, trying to clean it up, but only caused a bigger mess. Malfoy laughed beside Harry, shaking his head.

Harry felt bad for him and slid down to the floor to help him. He smiled at the Slytherin, said “calm down,” and swished his wand, spelling away the ink.

“Is there a problem?” McGonagall asked from the front of the class. She looked at them over her half-moon glasses.

“No, professor, just an accident,” Harry replied with a smile.

She nodded in response and went on talking.

Harry smiled at the Slytherin. “I’m Harry,” he said kindly.

“I’m Mundy,” the Slytherin replied tentatively. Harry nodded and patted his shoulder. He stood but before he knew what was happening, there was a growl and a scream and Harry was pushed to the side (luckily to be caught by Ron). When he turned, his eyes widened at Malfoy, who stood tall, his eyes dark in anger and his hand gripping Mundy’s throat. He had him in the air, which showed just how much strength Malfoy had because Mundy wasn’t light. The Slytherin choked for air, his eyes darting from the angry blond in front of him to Harry, pleadingly.

Harry pushed away from Ron. “Malfoy, stop!”

The students had backed away from the angry male, not even the Gryffindors had the courage to approach him while seeing him like this. There wasn’t much change in his appearance, except for his eyes, but the scowl on his face and his mere strength was enough to scare anyone. McGonagall took steps forward, but the closer she got, the harder he gripped Mundy’s neck.

McGonagall glanced at Harry. “Potter, you have to do something. He’ll kill Mr. Winchester if this continues.”

Harry rushed forward, pulling at Malfoy’s arms, but the Incubus only growled at him. It only took a small push with his body and Harry was stumbling backwards. He pulled out his wand.

“Spells won’t work, Potter. When an Incubus is in a rage, spells are deflected,” McGonagall stared at Harry. “Calm your mate down. He’s in a rage because you touched another man.”

Harry looked at her helplessly and nodded. He didn’t know what to do, but with each second he hesitated, Mundy seemed to pale more from loss of air. Harry took steps forward again and rested his hand on Malfoy’s arm. “Malfoy, stop this.” Malfoy didn’t even acknowledge him. “Malfoy, please!” This time he glanced at Harry out of the corner of his eye, but his gaze flicked straight back to the Slytherin, who was whimpering and screeching for help.

Harry didn’t know what to do! Malfoy wasn’t listening.

“Harry, try reassuring him that you only want him!” Hermione said desperately. She was holding on to Ron, her eyes glassy with tears.

Harry nodded quickly and petted the arm again. “Malfoy, I only want you.” That seemed to help. He loosened his grip, but only a little. Mundy was still without air. “I’m carrying your children, Malfoy, not his.” There were gasps of surprise, but Harry dismissed them, concentrating solely on the Incubus. An idea popped into his head. “Draco…please.”

The hold on Mundy’s neck was released and he fell to the ground with a loud thump. He choked, regaining air that had been taken from his lungs. Malfoy turned and Harry grimaced, expecting a hit of some kind. Instead, arms wrapped around his waist and he was pulled flushed against Malfoy’s chest. Malfoy buried his head in his neck and breathed deeply; Harry assumed it was to breathe in his scent. He returned the hug, smiling at McGonagall over Malfoy’s shoulder.

McGonagall nodded, but her face was stern. There was going to be trouble over this.

“It’s okay, Draco,” Harry reassured quietly, his fingers entwining themselves in Mal - Draco’s hair. “It’s okay. No one is going to steal me off you. I promise.”

Malfoy hummed in content.

McGonagall ushered the other students out, but before she left the classroom, she stared at Harry pointedly. “This must be discussed, are we understood? Meet me in my office at 6pm, Potter.”

Harry nodded.

It was quite easy to calm Malfoy down after that. He had chosen to take him to the Room of Requirement again, just to get them out of the ‘spotlight.’ Malfoy didn’t speak much except for small murmurs of “sorry” and “Father is going to kill me.” Harry felt sorry for him, but he continued to pet his hair like he had done in the classroom to keep him calm.

When Malfoy finally came back to his full senses, he still didn’t say much. Instead, he fell into a deep sleep that Harry guessed was brought on by exhaustion.

So he let him sleep, Draco’s head resting on his chest, Harry stroking the soft, pale cheek comfortingly as quiet snores filled the silent room. Harry had never seen him sleep before and he revelled at how peaceful he looked. He looked beautiful.

→→→ Chapter Eight