HD INSPIRATION FOR RAVENPAN
Author: charmed310
Recipient: ravenpan
Title: With You All The Way
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Rating: R
Summary: The difficult journey that is wizard-pregnancy. Harry and Draco decide to start a family. This is the short story of their fears, tears and laughter during the journey.
Warnings: Mpreg. Nothing foul, but there is a little bit of blood-letting (in the non-vampiric sense, of course.)
Total word count: 8,735
Disclaimer: This story/artwork is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author's notes: To my recipient, ravenpan, I was just as excited as you were that we were having an exchange for H/D m-preg writers and I fully shared in your omgjustgivemeanything!!! I did my best to follow your requests and I hope you enjoy :)
With You All The Way
“Today’s the day, Harry. I can feel it.” Draco bounced excitedly on the bed, grinning down at his lover’s supine form. “And it’s Sunday, so we can shag. All. Day.” He punctuated his last two words with kisses to Harry’s warm lips.
“I think you said that the last three times. I really think it’s rubbish that we only get a three day window,” said Harry, squirming slightly as Draco pressed more kisses to his neck and chest. “Women have all cycle!”
“Shut up, Harry,” murmured Draco against Harry’s skin. “You’re ruining the moment. We’ve only been trying for six months to get this right.”
“Sorry. It’s just that it’s bullshit. I mean why do we- ouch!” Harry frowned, rubbing the skin Draco had bitten. “What’s the matter with you?”
“Cut it out, Potter. Don’t you want to have this baby?” Draco’s eyes were flashing angrily, and Harry had the decency to look sheepish.
“You know I do.”
“Then stop talking about what we can’t change. It’s this or nothing, and we certainly haven’t gone through all this trouble for nothing.”
“I’m sorry. I guess I’m nervous about it. Irritated with me or not, I am going to be ‘mother’. It’s a daunting prospect, and I’m really worried that something… that something bad might happen. Worse yet, I don’t get pregnant at all.”
Draco sighed and stroked Harry’s face. “I know, love. I’d like to say ‘I won’t let that happen’, but I can’t in good conscience. The most we can do is try our best. I love you, and I’ll be with you all the way, Harry.”
Harry smiled. “You’d better.”
~~~
Six weeks later, Harry flicked impatiently through a Quidditch magazine and looked up at the large clock on the wall again. What is taking them so long? He glanced at Draco who looked equally restless, his crossed leg shaking rapidly. Today was the day. Harry and Draco were waiting for the result of his pregnancy test. Not wanting to take any chances, they’d opted to have it done at the Healer’s office rather than at home. Harry glanced at the clock again, and then at the door where the Healer would emerge from, bearing the piece of parchment that would bring them elation or severe disappointment. At a heavy sigh from Draco, Harry put down his magazine and offered his hand to his partner, smiling slightly at him.
Draco laced their fingers together and squeezed Harry’s hand, taking Harry’s comfort and offering his own support. He glared at the clock again, wondering what on earth could possibly be taking so long to magically examine a sample of blood and urine. Harry was either pregnant or he wasn’t; there was hardly any need for suspense.
“Remind me again why we didn’t just shell out the Galleons for a home testing kit?” Draco said.
“Because we wanted it done right the first time. Imagine if it had said I was pregnant and I turned out not to be. I couldn’t face that disappointment, Draco.”
Sighing heavily again, Draco nodded his agreement. “I know, but at least it would only have taken a minute. I mean honestly, how long does it take to wave your wand over a plastic pot of pee?”
~~~
“Mr Potter, your results are ready.”
Healer Dover stood in the threshold of the door to the examination rooms, smiling at Harry and Draco.
Harry gulped and gripped Draco’s hand tighter as they both got up and followed their Healer to her office. Smiling is good. She wouldn’t be smiling if it were bad news. Harry buoyed himself up with these thoughts as he sat down at the handsome oak desk.
Healer Dover sat opposite them, still smiling. “Well, I shan’t keep you in suspense any longer. Congratulations, gentlemen. You’re expecting.”
Harry gasped, tears coming to his eyes. He was pregnant. He barely heard Draco’s whoop of laughter. The hand not being squeezed into numbness by Draco’s fingers sought out his abdomen beneath his robes. Hello little one. Harry grinned.
The two men left Healer Dover’s office feeling significantly lighter than they had going in, despite being laden down with several prescriptions for pre-natal potions and at least a thousand pieces of literature on what to expect in the coming months.
“I can’t believe it! We did it!” Draco was saying excitedly. “I mean, the last time we were here, we weren’t even sure if you could get pregnant and now… just…” He stopped and turned Harry to face him, eyes alight, and leaned down and kissed him.
“Thank you, Harry.”
“It’s my pleasure.”
~~~
“Why the fuck is it called morning sickness when you’re sick all day?” Harry groaned.
“Dunno, mate. Hermione was never sick,” Ron replied.
The two men were having lunch in a pub, but Harry found he could only stomach a few potato crisps and the odd sip of club soda. It had been a month since he’d found out he was pregnant and, though elated at first, Harry was beginning to regret the whole idea. His body seemed to be rebelling against everything he put into it. He remembered telling Draco what a pleasure it was to be having his baby, but now he couldn’t quite justify it.
“Sure you don’t want some of this?” Ron offered Harry a forkful of mashed potato and gravy.
Harry grimaced and turned away, his stomach churning. “Don’t ever do that again,” he moaned.
Ron looked apologetic but continued to eat with gusto. Harry took another sip of his drink and nibbled a crisp, sadly wondering if he’d ever eat normally again.
“So what did Robards say when you told him?” Ron asked, referring to their highly skilled but sometimes bad-tempered Auror Head.
“Ah, you know him: ‘Let me know when you’re too big to Apparate,’” Harry said, imitating Gawain Robards’ deep, rough voice.
Ron laughed, but then said seriously, “You know Draco will make you take it easy.”
Harry sighed. Since they’d decided to have a baby, Draco had been strongly volleying for a change in Harry’s career. ‘You can’t possibly consider endangering your life when you’re carrying our baby! And in any case, how do you plan to avoid curses and hexes when you’ve gained twenty odd kilos?’ he’d said. Still, Harry had worked far too hard to let his dream job go and, while he agreed in the long term that it would be best for them to stay out of trouble, what was he supposed to do by himself all day? Knit? They had two house elves to take care of their home, and out of pure superstition Harry was putting off baby shopping until the last possible moment. Narcissa Malfoy had already warned him not to boast about his due date, supporting her argument by telling him that all three of Lucius’ sisters had bandied theirs about and had given birth to Squibs. Harry didn’t care (much) about his child being a Squib, but he knew it would break his mother-in-law’s heart.
“I’ll deal with Draco,” Harry said. “The Healer only said I should think about taking on a more sedentary role.”
“Hey, as long as you don’t have to stop to puke when you’re supposed to be watching my back, I’ve got yours all the way, mate.”
Harry grinned. “Thanks, Ron.”
~~~
“You look like shit.”
“I feel worse.” Harry laid his head on the bath mat and closed his eyes. His hair hurt. He’d been in the bathroom for the last three hours, making the decision to stay there and rest on the floor rather than keep waking Draco up by getting in and out of bed.
He felt Draco’s hands touch his face, but was too exhausted to acknowledge him.
“Fuck. Harry, you’ve got a fever.” Panic laced Draco’s voice and Harry was forced to open his eyes again. Draco had stood up and was pulling on clothes. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Harry muttered.
“I’m sure it bloody isn’t. Come on, I’m going to help you stand up, alright?”
~~~
“You’re coming down with a cold, Mr Potter,” said the Healer on call at St Mungo’s.
“Perfect. Just what I need.”
“Not to worry. You can safely take a fever remedy now. You can’t afford to keep your temperature up or it could harm the foetus.” The young man raised his wand and a small bottle of yellow potion zoomed into his hand. “Take a teaspoon of this every eight hours while symptoms persist. If the fever isn’t gone by tomorrow evening, you’ll need to visit your regular Healer.”
“But this won’t hurt the baby, w-will it?” Draco asked.
“Not now, no. A Pepper-up Potion won’t work for him, though. This is a special blend for pregnant mothers… or fathers.”
Harry felt sick again. Draco seemed to sense this and looked helplessly at the Healer. “Isn’t there anything you can give him for the nausea?”
“I’m afraid anything I give him could harm the baby,” said the Healer apologetically. “Take it easy, and don’t hesitate to Floo us with any questions.”
“What about the pre-natal potions he’s taking? Could those be affecting him badly?”
“No, and he needs to keep taking them, especially now; they’re full of vitamins and extra nutrients he’ll need throughout the pregnancy, and we want him in as good shape as possible. The sickness is usually just a phase; sometimes people can be sick during the entire pregnancy, but I wouldn’t worry about it too much unless it gets to the point where he becomes dehydrated or starts to lose weight. Right now, he’s fine.”
Harry got off the examining table, staring miserably at the floor as he pulled on his cloak. Draco placed a comforting hand on his back and guided him out the door.
“My wife said that Ritz biscuits helped with the nausea,” said the Healer.
Harry thanked him and he and Draco went back home whereupon he raced to the downstairs toilet and threw up yet again.
“I’m so sorry, Harry,” Draco said sadly as he rubbed Harry’s back gently. “If I’d known it would be so bad -”
“I’d have done it anyway. I’m a Gryffindor - we’re stubborn.”
Harry was smiling and Draco felt his world had become a little less dreary.
“Come on, let’s get you some of that potion and into bed.”
~~~
Hermione visited the following day, bringing with her a bowl of hot chicken noodle soup, which Harry found he could not only keep down, but enjoyed immensely.
“You’re a lifesaver, Hermione,” he said gratefully, setting aside the empty bowl.
“You don’t have to tell me,” she replied with a smile. “How are you feeling otherwise?”
“Okay. That potion I got from the Healer last night made a big difference.”
“It’ll get better, don’t worry. I mean, I know I had the best pregnancy anyone could hope for, but I’m confident you’ll live to tell the tale.”
Harry groaned. “I hope so. If Draco wants any more children, he’s bloody well carrying them himself.”
“It’s not all bad, Harry. You’ll soon begin to experience the benefits of growing life.”
“Yeah? Like what?”
Hermione grinned. “The sex is phenomenal.”
She was right. Harry first noticed his increased sensitivity to Draco’s touch just a few days after he’d crossed his first trimester mark. They’d just woken up and Draco had stroked a lazy hand over Harry’s belly while pressing the softest kiss to the back of his neck, sending a marvellous jolt of electricity down Harry’s spine, straight between his legs. It was easily the best feeling in the world to be horny again in the morning rather than hanging his head over the toilet. He’d turned to Draco and suggested that they make love, nearly laughing out loud at the look of shock on his husband’s face.
“Really? You’re not sick?”
“No, I’m blissfully not.”
“I won’t hurt the baby? I know the Healer said we could, but are you sure?”
Harry smiled slyly and took Draco’s hand, placing it upon his erection. “Very sure.” He turned on his back and removed the flannel pyjama bottoms he wore. “And don’t hold back.”
It was hard, fast and utterly delectable, Harry decided fifteen minutes later as they lay in post-coital bliss. Harry had overlooked the fact that Draco was equally as horny as he was, not having even taken care of his own business while Harry had been sick. Feeling a surge of happiness, Harry curled himself around his husband, kissing his warm chest. “I haven’t felt this good in… well, I can’t really remember.”
“Probably not since we conceived.” Draco glanced at the clock on his bedside and groaned. “It’s getting late; we’ve got to move.” He kissed Harry and gently disengaged himself from his embrace.
“Bugger. Can’t we call in sick? I think I could easily have sex all day,” Harry said, covering his head with the duvet.
“Sounds delightful, but I think you’ve used up all your sick days for the next three years.”
Harry tapped his rounded belly gently. “Do you hear that? All this for you.”
“Oh, Harry.” Draco rolled his eyes and then got out of bed.
“So, I’ll meet you in your office at lunchtime for another round?”
Draco grinned. “Excellent.”
~~~
“Potter!”
Harry started and realised he was in a room full of people staring at him. Christ! He’d just been having the most erotic daydream involving Draco sucking him off against their front door, which was fine, but he’d never had one during a briefing before.
“Welcome back,” Gawain said coldly, looking down his nose at Harry. “As I was saying, I need you and Weasley to check out that disturbance reported in Cheltenham.”
“Yes, sir.” Harry could feel his face burning.
“Right, good luck all of you, even those who haven’t been paying attention.”
The Aurors began to get up and divide into their respective pairs and Gawain approached Harry and Ron. “Potter, if you are at any time not up to this job, I need to know as soon as possible so I can find a replacement.”
Harry nodded, too embarrassed to speak. Ron, however, took pity on him and led him out of the room, a large, comforting hand on his back. “Don’t worry about it, mate. Remember what I said.”
Shaking his head, Harry went to collect his file containing details on their assignment. Draco was going to kill himself laughing. “So what’s the story?” Harry asked as they walked into the Ministry Atrium.
“From the looks of it, a wizard living in a Muggle neighbourhood had a wild party last night. There were some bangs going off and the next door neighbours were worried and called the police whose Magical Intelligence alerted us. I really hope it was just some drunken hexing so we can go home early.”
“Agreed.” They turned together and Apparated to the address supplied in their notes.
~~~
Draco cast another impatient look at his watch and shuffled the parchment on his desk again, fidgeting as he always did when he was agitated. Harry should have arrived in his office ten minutes ago, but there was still no sign of him. It’s alright, Draco told himself for the third time. It’s perfectly normal for him to be late; he’s just not back from his assignment and hasn’t had time to check in with headquarters. Taking a deep breath to try to quell the uprising knot of nervousness in his gut, Draco got up and began to fiddle with his documents and instruments, rearranging and regrouping.
Another five minutes had gone by and he hadn’t been able to shake the ominous feeling that threatened to overwhelm him. They’d have heard something by now if he was hurt. But ‘no news is good news’ was not working for Draco. He knew Harry could handle himself; he had trained for many years and he was excellent at his job, but their impending family… Draco couldn’t think about it. He grabbed his cloak from the back of the door and made to hurry out, only to run smack into someone just outside his door.
“Oh, Mr Malfoy, I’m so sorry! I was just coming to tell you!” It was Patrick Darwin, Gawain Robards’ assistant.
“Tell me what?” His heart, already beating unreasonably fast, sped up.
“It’s Mr Potter. He was admitted to hospital half an hour ago. He…”
Draco didn’t hear the rest. His head was filled with images of Harry’s dead body, of their baby being born prematurely, of… Draco felt sick. He was so angry with the Ministry for even allowing Harry into the field in his delicate condition, he couldn’t even see straight as he caught a lift.
Livid and beside himself with worry, Draco was surprised to find himself in the reception area at St Mungo’s, having Apparated into London, just outside Purge and Dow’s Ltd. the moment he could. The witch behind the counter smiled engagingly at him. “Can I help you, sir?”
“My husband, Harry Potter, he was admitted half an hour ago. Where is he?” Draco growled.
The witch looked mildly horrified, but she seemed to sense his desperation. “He’s in room fifteen, just down the corridor and to the right, but we haven’t got any more news since he was brought in.”
But Draco was already halfway down the corridor where he found Ron and Hermione sitting and talking quietly.
“What happened?”
Ron stood up, looking near to tears. “Draco, I’m so sorry.” Anger gave way to blind panic when Draco noticed that his clothes were splattered with blood.
“What the fuck happened?”
“We went on assignment in Cheltenham, nothing out of the ordinary. When we got there, we found the place was warded, so Harry said he’d go in and check it out. I-I shouldn’t have let him, I should have gone in first - it just happened so quickly, and there was so much blood. Then we were attacked; I had to leave him.” Ron’s voice faltered and he rubbed his eyes, still horrified. “I Stunned as many as I could and called for back-up and medical help, and they brought him here. I got back as soon as I could, but there hasn’t been any word yet. I’m so sorry.”
Draco fell into a chair and dropped his face in his hands. This was exactly what he’d been afraid of. He’d begged Harry not to continue working in the field, but he was so stubborn… Anger threatened to consume him again, and he got up and began to pace. He’d promised to protect Harry, and he’d gone and just let him endanger his life, and worse still, their baby’s life. He couldn’t stand it.
“I’m going in.”
“Draco, you can’t!” Hermione grabbed his arm. “I know it’s hard, but you can’t do anything for him. The Healers are doing everything they can.”
“Hermione, that’s my family in there!”
“I know, but you-” The door to Harry’s room opened and the wizard Healer stepped out.
Draco leapt on him. “Are they alright? I’m his husband.”
“He and the baby are going to be fine. Mr Potter has lost a lot of blood, but the baby has not suffered any adverse reactions to the sudden drop in blood-pressure. We stopped the bleeding and patched him up, but he’ll need to stay in the hospital for at least a week for observation. He’s a very lucky man.”
“Can we see him?” Ron asked.
“Yes,” said the Healer, “But not for long, he needs to rest.”
Draco made to go forward with Ron and Hermione, but the Healer called him back.
“I’ll be sending a report for Harry’s regular Healer with all the details of the attack, including a report from Mr Weasley.” Draco nodded. “Mr Malfoy, I would also strongly recommend a change in lifestyle. I know who he is and what he’s done, but he’s carrying a child in a very high-risk pregnancy. I would hate for anything worse to happen.”
Draco sighed. “Not more than me. I tried to convince him. He’s so stubborn…” He was unable to continue. The Healer placed a hand on his arm. “I understand. All of the Aurors we see are equally as stubborn as your husband, but he needs to understand the magnitude of the repercussions to his actions; it’s not just about him anymore.”
Draco nodded sadly, thanking the Healer for his advice, and entered Harry’s room.
~~~
Harry closed his eyes tightly when he saw Draco’s bowed head pass the threshold. He knew he had fucked up big time. Hermione, who had been holding his hand, stood up and gave him a kiss.
“We’ll leave you two alone,” she said, shooting a glance at Ron, who still looked guilty.
“I’ll come see you tomorrow, mate. Sleep well.”
Hermione kissed Draco goodbye and shut the door firmly behind her.
Draco sat down in Ron’s abandoned chair and took Harry’s hand in his. “You alright?” he asked, voice hoarse.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Harry gulped, placing a hand on his belly, a gesture that made Draco’s stomach disappear and his anger return.
“Well you almost bloody well weren’t! What were you thinking going in there?”
“I was doing my job, Draco.”
“Right, and your job’s worth more than our baby.”
“I’m not going to apologise. I was doing my job and I didn’t react quickly enough; it happens.”
“And what happens the next time you don’t react quickly enough? You die? The baby dies? Take some fucking responsibility, Harry!”
“I am! I’m making a bloody living!”
“Oh, don’t you make this about money, Harry, don’t even try it. I can’t fucking believe that you’re trying to justify yourself! After all the warnings the Healers gave you, after all the warnings I gave you!” Draco got up and began pacing again. “How could you? You know how hard it was to conceive, how sick you’ve been, and you throw it all away on one assignment? You have your whole life to be an Auror! Why can’t you just take it easy for a few months, Harry?”
“But there’s nothing to do! I’ll drive myself crazy! Do you know what it’s like sitting around the house, staring at the walls?”
“No one ever said that you had to stay at home and do nothing. Just get out of the field, and stop being so fucking selfish.”
Harry stared defiantly at his husband. “And if I don’t?”
For a moment, Draco looked as though he was going to slap him, then he said unsteadily, “Don’t push that barrier with me, Harry. My nerves can’t take it.”
He sat back down, his head back in his hands through which he muttered, “Please, don’t make me feel like I did today again, I’m begging you.” He leaned forward and took Harry’s hand again. “I wouldn’t survive if I lost you, either of you.”
They were silent for several minutes as Harry allowed Draco’s words to sink in. He’d worked so hard to get where he wanted to be, to get all the things that he wanted for himself after a childhood of living for everyone else, Harry was finally content with his life. He had his dream job, he had friends, and he had Draco. Then Draco had suggested that they have a baby, appealing to Harry’s soft side.
“It’s your chance to have a family, Harry,” he’d said. Harry wanted a family more than anything and he was thrilled at Draco’s suggestion, beginning his research immediately, feeling that they needed to do it sooner than later. He was already thirty and felt that he’d enjoyed enough of his youth to start wanting more from his life with his husband.
He realised, as he lay in the hospital bed with his arm and shoulder heavily bandaged, that he hadn’t been prepared for the level of sacrifice it would require. He rubbed slow circles over his belly, concentrating on soothing the foetus growing inside. The day’s events were catching up with him and he realised what a colossal idiot he’d been. He’d been so blinded by defying everyone’s expectations of his physical limits that he’d vastly overlooked the most important thing: this baby, his miracle.
The tears started before he could stop them and he reached out for Draco. “I’m so sorry,” he sobbed. “I’ve been a complete arse.”
“Glad you’ve cottoned on.” Draco was still hurt and angry but he climbed carefully into bed beside his husband, holding him gently. “I suppose being stuck in the hospital for a week is comeuppance enough.”
“I just… didn’t want to be weak. I was so concerned with not allowing my being pregnant to interfere with anything that I didn’t pay attention to the bigger picture. I’ve been feeling so awful, I just wanted to prove that I hadn’t become… I dunno, female.”
“Harry, I hate to say this, but I think women are made of much stronger stuff than we realise. And we really don’t know that many gay couples who’ve been able to get pregnant, so it’s not like you have the kind of support Hermione had. Plus, she had a virtually non-existent pregnancy, which rarely happens. Don’t beat yourself up, baby. I know what you’re saying, but sometimes you just have to let it go and say, ‘I can’t do that anymore’ as loathe as you are to admit such a ghastly thing.”
Harry laughed wetly. “I really am.”
“And just look at it this way: Gawain Robards could never replace you. I know you hate to hear it, but your shoes are way too big to fill.”
Harry flung his head back on Draco’s shoulder. “But I’m going to get so fat!” he wailed.
Draco chuckled and kissed him. “You’re too skinny anyway.”
~~~
It was nothing short of torture, Harry decided, to watch Ron and his for-the-time-being partner, a new bloke called Marcus Banks, leave on their first field assignment together the week after Harry had been discharged from St Mungo’s. It was painful, Harry was jealous, and he’d received another major blow to his pride, but no one commiserated with him. He should have taken a desk job in the beginning was the general conclusion. Hermione even went so far as to bring up his ‘saving people thing’ again, for which he did not speak to her for several days. Ron, still holding extreme feelings of guilt, begged Harry not to make him feel worse by sulking. They both had jobs to do, and he could not afford to worry for Harry and the baby’s safety when he was supposed to be concentrating on not getting killed himself. He had a family to provide for, too. Harry completely understood that this was the best for the baby, but he couldn’t help how he felt.
Draco, however, was being completely wonderful about the whole thing and it was a definite comfort to feel so loved and looked after, even though it was mostly just to cheer him up. His favourite meals were served more often at dinner, and Harry found little presents of chocolate and love notes on his pillow or his desk when he got into work. It was sweet of him, and Harry appreciated the effort. Pregnancy, not having been loads of fun thus far, was getting easier on him. With the sickness completely gone, Harry found he was able to enjoy the positive effects much more. His skin looked like new, his hair was shiny and actually behaving itself for once and his appetite for sex continued to increase, Draco’s office becoming a regular lunchtime retreat. They’d been walked in on once by Draco’s assistant, Felicity, when, in their haste they’d forgotten to lock the door, and were reduced to helpless giggles as they sat half-dressed on Draco’s desk. Draco later said the poor girl had been unable to look him in the eye since, and Harry, unable to resist a tease, winked knowingly at her on every available occasion.
Draco was thrilled that Harry’s mood had dramatically improved in the last couple of weeks despite his daily ‘This paperwork crap is not working for me’ complaints. He was glad his plan of spoiling his husband was working instead. The day after Harry was admitted to St Mungo’s, Draco had visited his Healer who told him that many pregnant wizards suffered from Harry’s kind of depression and feelings of uselessness; it went against all that was masculine, and Harry, always the Gryffindor, had a level of pride about him that he was trying his best to maintain. Healer Dover said that it would probably pass quickly, that Harry’s hormones were still sorting themselves out and all he needed was to be reassured that he was still the same person - just more fragile. It was an immense effort on Draco’s part not to treat Harry like expensive crystal, but he found as time went by, Harry began to settle and enjoy his pregnancy.
~~~
Harry flopped down on the couch one evening in mid-December, a tin of biscuits in his hand for them to share. At five months, his appetite for food had become almost equal to that of his libido and he’d started to put on more weight - not that he cared a scrap anymore - Draco kept telling him how gorgeous his pregnant belly was. Two cups of tea appeared on the coffee table in front of them, and Draco smiled, pulling Harry’s legs on to his lap, accepting the Ginger Newt he was offered.
“Have you got all your shopping done?”
“Most of it, yeah. We’re still on for parent-shopping this week, right?”
Draco groaned. “Don’t remind me. I never know what to get for your father-in-law.”
“Oh, is that what he’s called these days?”
“Well, he asks about you daily, hardly bothering to enquire after my health and happiness.”
Harry smiled. “I suppose once the baby and I are both healthy, you just kind of fall into place.”
Making a face, Draco bit into his biscuit. “I’m afraid I reluctantly agree.”
“If you had a choice, would you want us to have a girl or a boy?” he asked Harry later on, his head cushioned by Harry’s belly, hoping to feel movement.
Harry immediately replied, “A boy.”
“Why?”
“For the simple reason that we don’t know anything about girls! What will we do in thirteen years when she says she’s got her period? I think I’d faint. And how will we not kill any boy who displays a hint of romantic interest in her?”
Bursting into laughter, Draco said, “Don’t worry, she’s got aunts and a grandmother for all of that. Except ridding the world of unsuitable boys part - I think we’ve got that covered.”
Harry snorted. “Still, a boy would be much easier; we’d only have to worry about his penis and not a million others.”
“My father said the same thing about me.”
Harry grinned lasciviously. “He was certainly wrong about that, wasn’t he?”
Draco grinned back. “Indeed.” He got to his knees, parting Harry’s legs around him, and kissed him. “Pregnancy has given you a very dirty mind, Mr Potter.”
Harry lay back, placing his hands behind his head. “No, I’m just exuding blatant sex appeal.”
“That, too.”
~~~
The house was still and seemingly empty when Draco returned home from a late meeting at the start of January. When he’d looked at the calendar in the kitchen that morning, he’d been treated to a wave of excitement when he read Harry’s scrawled ‘Three more months!’ in the little square.
Just before Christmas, Harry had decided to take early leave from his job. He found it a waste of time when, as his belly grew bigger and the baby started to press on his bladder, he could only sit for five minutes to work before he got too hot, had to use the loo or his back started to hurt too badly and he’d have to get up and walk around. Robards was happy to let him take the leave early, as Harry had also become remarkably bad-tempered and tended to snap at the two trainee Aurors who had just recently made the cut. Harry now spent his days resting and eating, just as he was supposed to.
Narcissa had relented somewhat and had been at the house working on the nursery, and she and Harry had so far painted the walls in daffodil yellow (to cover all eventualities, she’d said) and installed the crib Draco had used as a baby, placing in it a brand new mattress with the softest down comforter Draco had ever felt. He climbed the stairs quietly and entered the room next to his and Harry’s. He smiled, imagining what it was going to be like to come home and dote upon his actual flesh and blood.
“Draco, is that you?” Harry called from the next room.
Closing the nursery door, Draco entered his own room to find Harry sitting on the bed, an empty bowl and spoon next to him, pictures littering the bedspread.
“Hi.” Draco kissed his husband lingeringly, telling him with the contact how much he’d missed him.
“Your nose is cold,” Harry murmured. “There’s some hot soup in the kitchen if you’re hungry.”
“Hmm, maybe later. I’ve missed you. What are you doing?”
Harry smiled and moved the pictures aside so Draco could sit. “Your mum brought the pictures she had taken of us at Christmas. I was thinking we could spend the evening starting up our family photo album, and maybe put some in the baby’s room. Hermione got me some frames.”
Draco’s heart swelled with happiness. The simple joy Harry got from doing things like collating their family photographs, and seeing that there was always something warm for Draco to eat when he got home even though he knew he didn’t have to made Draco fall in love with him all over again.
“God, we’re an attractive family,” Draco said a couple of hours later as he admired the framed photographs of him and Harry they’d arranged on the shelves in the sitting room. The photographer had taken a semi-nude picture of the two of them in the ornate gazebo at Malfoy Manor in which Draco was kneeling before Harry and placing a kiss on his belly. It was easily the sexiest photograph Draco could remember seeing.
“We are, aren’t we?” Harry said softly. Draco turned Harry to face him, feeling the familiar stirring in his loins, and kissed him deeply.
“Let’s go to bed.”
“Already? But you haven’t eaten yet.”
“Don’t care. I want you now,” Draco said, his voice low and penetrating. He led Harry up the stairs and closed the door to their bedroom behind him. Harry went to stand at the foot of the bed and began to unbutton his robes, but Draco stopped him. “Let me do it.”
“What’s with you?” Harry gasped, his eyes falling closed as Draco’s lips closed on his neck.
“You’re irresistible, Harry,” he whispered, nibbling Harry’s earlobes, pulling him as close as possible. Between their bodies, Draco began to undress Harry, dropping to his knees to press kisses into Harry’s warm belly. He lowered Harry onto the bed and knelt over him, pausing only for a moment to remove his own shirt before leaning down again to resume the plunder of his partner’s body, his arousal blooming further at the sweet sounds of Harry’s soft gasps and moans.
Marvelled once again by Harry’s sensitivity to touch, Draco kept the foreplay up as long as he could, gently flicking at Harry’s nipples with his tongue as he slid his fingers into the crevice of his arse, teasing and preparing. He knew it would never last and soon, Harry was digging his fingers into Draco’s back, whispering, ‘Please, Draco, I’m so close.”
It was all he needed to hear. He entered his husband slowly and deliberately, his heart fluttering at the sound of his name on Harry’s lips and the soft slide of bare skin.
~~~
“We’ve got to plan a baby shower for Harry.”
Draco raised his head and he caught the excited brown gaze and wide grin of Hermione Weasley who’d bounded into his office and sat on his desk.
“’We’ who? I know nothing of baby showers; I’m gay, not female.”
“Fine. Can I have permission, then, to decorate your house for a baby shower for Harry?”
“What does he need a baby shower for? Isn’t that some kind of girlie party with lots of pink and ribbons?”
“Well, you are expecting a girl, so yes.”
Draco smiled. At Harry’s last appointment, their Healer had finally been able to determine the baby’s gender and, despite previous misgivings, Harry was enchanted to be having a daughter whom they’d decided to name Delilah Lily. Catching himself, he glared at Hermione again. “Back to my original question: what need is there?”
“It’s something nice to do for Harry. He’s not been feeling his best lately, and it will cheer him up to have people around. Besides, there are presents. There are things you two will need and not even think to get.”
“Hermione, do you think me so shallow that I would allow you full run of my house just to get pink booties that my daughter will wear for a grand total of five days before she outgrows them?”
“Don’t be such a pain in the arse, Draco. Can we use your house or not?”
Draco regarded her for a moment, knowing deep down that even if he said ‘No’, she’d probably go ahead and throw the shower there anyway. He sighed. “Fine. Whatever you want. And charge everything to my vault.”
“You don’t have to do all of that, we can-“
“If Harry’s going to be having a party at our house, it will be spared no expense. My family deserves the best.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
It was with great trepidation that Draco entered his house the morning of the shower, two weeks later. Hermione and the Weasley women had taken it upon themselves to decorate and he was extremely apprehensive to see what they would make of his tastefully decorated living and dining area. Harry had been told nothing, and it took all of Draco’s powers of persuasion to get him out of the house for two hours so that the preparations could take place. Harry complained bitterly the entire time that they were out on their walk cum breakfast that he was hot and felt like a whale, and moreover, how dare Draco remove him from his safe home and throw him to the Muggles, certain that they would notice that he was more than a little bit fat.
“Harry, do you honestly take me for an idiot? I Disillusioned your belly, and besides, since when have Muggles ever paid any attention to what’s right in front of them?”
Harry only huffed and folded his arms crossly.
Draco opened the front door cautiously, shielding the inside from Harry’s view just in case it looked like a war zone. As pissy as Harry was being, he didn’t want to be held responsible for any damage to him or the baby so soon before the birth. Harry, impatient as ever, prodded him in the ribs and pushed him aside. “Out of my way, Malfoy, I need to p-oh my God!”
It was an explosion of pink and women. Glittering banners reading ‘It’s A Girl!’ covered the walls and archways, pink balloons and confetti littered the ceiling and floor, and not a horizontal surface was devoid of food or gifts wrapped in bright pink paper and ribbons.
“Surprise!” The cry of welcome knocked Draco half off his feet and reduced Harry to a fit of very emasculating giggles. Draco had to blame the hormones. His Harry didn’t giggle.
All in all, even Draco had to admit that it was a lovely party. He could have had a little less of everyone touching Harry’s belly and cooing over them both and offering textbooks worth of advice on raising a daughter, but he was sure that he’d appreciate it when Delilah was born. The food was superb and even the decorations, pink as they were, suited the house. Glancing at his mother at one point, Draco deduced that she had been approached for her assistance. There was a flair he recognised.
Both he and Harry were thrilled beyond comprehension at the number of gifts they had received. Obvious things like bottles and baby clothes, down to the most exquisite charm bracelet from Draco’s parents that included tiny family crests as the charms. Molly Weasley had knitted Delilah a beautiful pink blanket with her name on, and Ron and Hermione had given them several baby books, a photo album and, as a joke, a pair of lurid pink booties.
It was late evening by the time all the guests had left, the house returned to normal (save for a few balloons and one of the glittering banners), and the gifts put away in the nursery, Harry and Draco had a light dinner and filled up the tub for a good long soak.
“You know, nearly everyone I spoke to today said they had monstrous food cravings while they were pregnant; your mother’s friend Janine said she even had one for dirt, if you can believe something so repulsive.”
“I really can’t,” Draco said, rubbing Harry’s back with a soap-filled sponge. “I’m kind of happy you didn’t have them. I really didn’t fancy having to get up at o’ dark thirty to make a supermarket run for you.”
“Ha, yes, I know how much you hate Tesco’s as it is,” Harry said. He smiled, placing his hands fondly on his belly. “I guess the pregnancy turned out alright in the end, didn’t it?”
“Yeah, it did.”
~~~
After making love two nights later, Draco lay with his head on Harry’s belly, stroking gently.
“She’s quiet tonight,” he commented, brushing his lips against where Delilah’s head lay.
Harry barely hummed in response and squirmed, shifting away from Draco. He was hot and tired, having spent most of the day with his mother-in-law preparing the nursery for Delilah’s arrival in two weeks. His back was particularly achy, and he had only given Draco sex because he’d asked nicely with a piece of chocolate cake. Harry was sure that Delilah was just as tired as he was, accounting for her lessened activity. Draco often joked that their daughter was quite the nymphomaniac as she always seemed to kick and bat at Harry’s insides the most after they’d made love.
Harry only felt a little bit guilty when, after no show of further affection from him, Draco moved to lie on his own side of the bed, barely touching him. Tonight, he just wanted to sleep and could hardly be bothered with cuddling.
At first, Harry wasn’t sure whether it was his dream of being kicked viciously in the back by a Hippogriff or real pain that had woken him. Then, he felt it again a minute later. Christ. I’ve gone into labour. It was just as Healer Dover had described the pain of contractions. He lay quietly for a moment, breathing deeply until it passed. She’d also told him that labour could last from anywhere between four to thirty-six hours and that he wasn’t to panic. He eased himself into a sitting position and was about to put his feet on the floor when he felt the pain again, stronger and for a greater length of time. Double Christ. He reached over and shook Draco roughly.
“Whassamatter?” Draco slurred, barely rolling over.
“I think I’ve gone into labour.”
“Oh, s’nice.”
Harry stood up and felt an unfamiliar heaviness in the pelvic area. “Draco, you need to wake up. I’ve gone into labour!” His last words were louder as another contraction began and he was forced to grip the nightstand to prevent himself from dropping to his knees.
Fortunately, his shout had been enough to rouse Draco properly. He was out of bed in a trice, supporting Harry from behind and helping him to sit back down again, rubbing slow circles over his back to calm him, sensing that he was frightened.
“You alright?” Draco asked quietly once Harry’s breathing had evened out. He had lit the lamps and was staring at Harry with extreme concern.
“I think- I think it’s happening more quickly than normal.” These were not the signs Healer Dover had told him about. His contractions weren’t supposed to be so close yet. “I need you to call the hospital and have them get Healer Dover.”
“Okay, Harry. I’ll be right back.” Draco flung his dressing gown over his shoulders and tore downstairs.
Taking slow, deep breaths, Harry tried to calm his mind and get his wits about him. He looked at the time. Four thirty in the morning. Thanks, Delilah. Couldn’t have waited till I was properly awake, could you?
Draco thundered back up the stairs and began pulling on clothes and talking very fast. “Healer Dover is on her way. She said that you’ve passed the point where magical travel is unsafe and there is no way you’d make it to London via Muggle transport.”
“What?” Harry stared dumbfounded at his husband. All the last minute details they’d worked out, all the preparations he’d made… Christ!
“She’s gathering her team of Healers and they’ll be right over.”
“But- but I can’t have the baby here!” Harry could feel another contraction coming on along with rising panic. It wasn’t safe. What would happen if the baby was in distress and she needed specific potions? What if something happened to him and they couldn’t get him to St Mungo’s in time? What if he died? Harry wasn’t aware that he’d started crying until Draco was kneeling in front of him and brushing the tears away.
“Harry, everything is going to be alright.” Draco squeezed Harry’s hands tightly. “I’ll be with you all the way, okay?”
Hearing the sureness in Draco’s voice brought Harry back from the pit of despair he’d been teetering on the edge of and he looked into his husband’s eyes, hungrily accepting the reassurance he found in them, and in his touch. Another contraction forced him to shut his eyes in agony. Draco didn’t stop holding his hands until it had passed, even when the loud gong-like noise from the front door signalled the arrival of Healer Dover. Once Draco had helped Harry get back into bed, he went back downstairs to collect the Healers and help them with their equipment.
Healer Dover smiled at Harry when she entered the room, and Harry wondered how on earth she could look so wide-awake and cheerful at this hour of the morning. He put it to the use of an Invigorating Draught, for he could not help but be happy to see her and hear that everything was going to be fine.
~~~
While Healer Dover and her team began to sanitize the bathroom and the tub where they’d decided would be the easiest place for the birth, Draco helped Harry to get undressed and then into the water-filled tub.
“Muggles do this, you know,” Harry said, once settled against his husband. “Have their babies in water. It’s supposed to be a better transition from the womb to air.”
“Are you nervous?” Draco asked.
“A little bit. More excited than anything; I can’t wait to see her.”
“Nor can I.” Draco brushed the slightly damp hair off Harry’s forehead and leaned down to kiss him. “I love you.”
“The pain potions should be taking effect now, Harry. How do you feel?” Healer Dover asked from where she sat on the other side of the large screen she had conjured for just below Harry’s neck. Draco could see over it if he wanted, but she’d said that as it was not a natural birth, she was not taking any chances of either of them passing out from the sight of blood. Harry had been hooked up to several strange instruments that monitored his heart rate and various other functions, changes in which, he’d been informed, could mean the difference between life and death.
“Numb, thank Merlin.”
“Good, we can get to work then. Let me know if you feel dizzy, or if you’re in any pain, Harry.”
“Okay.”
One of her assistants, Healer Frances, a pretty young woman with a bright smile, came over to their side of the screen, a myriad of potions on a tray.
“Blood-Replenishing potion, and some back-up pain ones,” she said in response to the questions in their eyes.
“Have you ever been to a home birth before?” Draco asked her as he rubbed Harry’s shoulders.
“Once, but I’ve seen wizard births at St Mungo’s and when I was in school. Healer Dover is one of the leading alternate parent Healers in the world.”
“We’re lucky to have her,” Harry said. He grimaced. “That feels funny.”
“Once she makes the first cut, it’ll be a matter of seconds before she gets the baby out.”
Harry reached up to take Draco’s hand. Please, let everything be alright. Draco squeezed tightly. “I’m right here, Harry.”
“I know.”
“She’s coming,” said Healer Dover.
Then, there was a splashing noise and Harry felt as though something had left him. Draco’s body was tense behind him, and he held Harry’s hand in a vice-like grip. Mere seconds later, Harry’s entire body was flooded with an emotion he could not describe as a tiny, piercing wail echoed around the room.
He barely heard the Healers’ congratulations as, over the screen, Healer Dover held up his daughter for him to see.
~~~
Epilogue
Baby Delilah was nothing short of perfection. From the moment she’d been placed in Harry’s arms and had opened up her cloudy greyish eyes, he knew there was nothing he’d ever be able to deny her. Draco had cried and cried, but Harry could do nothing but stare. For the first time in his life, he had a full blood-relative that he could love infinitely and who would love him back. Delilah was everything.
In the twenty-four hours following Delilah’s birth, Harry and Draco didn’t leave their bed, taking it in turns to hold her safe and warm in their arms while the other rested. Narcissa and Lucius had come to the house immediately upon hearing that their first grandchild had been born, bearing gifts and baskets of fruit, chocolate and champagne. The Weasleys arrived soon after, and in the event of such a miracle, even the animosity between Lucius and Arthur was forgotten and they shared champagne like two old friends.
Harry was sure he’d faint on the first day he’d ventured downstairs to get himself a sandwich and went into the nursery to find his father-in-law sitting in the rocking chair, holding Delilah against his chest.
“She was whimpering,” he’d said quietly. “This used to soothe Draco to sleep,”
Draco reluctantly went back to work with the guarantee that Harry and Delilah would not be left alone, and often came home at all hours to make sure that Harry was eating well and resting and that the baby was carefully monitored. He was the first one up in the middle of the night to give her a bottle or change her nappy which Harry appreciated as he was still a little bit sore from the surgery. There was no scar, but he could still feel the odd pulling sensation on the inside that he’d been assured was perfectly normal.
As she grew, Delilah’s eyes changed slowly to a brilliant shade of green that perfectly matched Harry’s, but her hair remained blonde and her features took on the delicate pointed structure that only a Malfoy could boast. Lucius and Draco were delighted.
When Delilah began sleeping through the night at three months old, Draco climbed slowly into bed next to Harry and rested a hand on his flat belly, stroking gently. Harry arched into the touch, feeling that his own body was long overdue for some TLC. Moving closer, Draco began by dropping kisses on Harry’s chest, inhaling the newly-washed scent, his hand still stoking Harry’s belly and ribs.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said.
“Oh?”
“Baby number two sounds like a good plan.”
Recipient: ravenpan
Title: With You All The Way
Pairing(s): Harry/Draco
Rating: R
Summary: The difficult journey that is wizard-pregnancy. Harry and Draco decide to start a family. This is the short story of their fears, tears and laughter during the journey.
Warnings: Mpreg. Nothing foul, but there is a little bit of blood-letting (in the non-vampiric sense, of course.)
Total word count: 8,735
Disclaimer: This story/artwork is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author's notes: To my recipient, ravenpan, I was just as excited as you were that we were having an exchange for H/D m-preg writers and I fully shared in your omgjustgivemeanything!!! I did my best to follow your requests and I hope you enjoy :)
With You All The Way
“Today’s the day, Harry. I can feel it.” Draco bounced excitedly on the bed, grinning down at his lover’s supine form. “And it’s Sunday, so we can shag. All. Day.” He punctuated his last two words with kisses to Harry’s warm lips.
“I think you said that the last three times. I really think it’s rubbish that we only get a three day window,” said Harry, squirming slightly as Draco pressed more kisses to his neck and chest. “Women have all cycle!”
“Shut up, Harry,” murmured Draco against Harry’s skin. “You’re ruining the moment. We’ve only been trying for six months to get this right.”
“Sorry. It’s just that it’s bullshit. I mean why do we- ouch!” Harry frowned, rubbing the skin Draco had bitten. “What’s the matter with you?”
“Cut it out, Potter. Don’t you want to have this baby?” Draco’s eyes were flashing angrily, and Harry had the decency to look sheepish.
“You know I do.”
“Then stop talking about what we can’t change. It’s this or nothing, and we certainly haven’t gone through all this trouble for nothing.”
“I’m sorry. I guess I’m nervous about it. Irritated with me or not, I am going to be ‘mother’. It’s a daunting prospect, and I’m really worried that something… that something bad might happen. Worse yet, I don’t get pregnant at all.”
Draco sighed and stroked Harry’s face. “I know, love. I’d like to say ‘I won’t let that happen’, but I can’t in good conscience. The most we can do is try our best. I love you, and I’ll be with you all the way, Harry.”
Harry smiled. “You’d better.”
~~~
Six weeks later, Harry flicked impatiently through a Quidditch magazine and looked up at the large clock on the wall again. What is taking them so long? He glanced at Draco who looked equally restless, his crossed leg shaking rapidly. Today was the day. Harry and Draco were waiting for the result of his pregnancy test. Not wanting to take any chances, they’d opted to have it done at the Healer’s office rather than at home. Harry glanced at the clock again, and then at the door where the Healer would emerge from, bearing the piece of parchment that would bring them elation or severe disappointment. At a heavy sigh from Draco, Harry put down his magazine and offered his hand to his partner, smiling slightly at him.
Draco laced their fingers together and squeezed Harry’s hand, taking Harry’s comfort and offering his own support. He glared at the clock again, wondering what on earth could possibly be taking so long to magically examine a sample of blood and urine. Harry was either pregnant or he wasn’t; there was hardly any need for suspense.
“Remind me again why we didn’t just shell out the Galleons for a home testing kit?” Draco said.
“Because we wanted it done right the first time. Imagine if it had said I was pregnant and I turned out not to be. I couldn’t face that disappointment, Draco.”
Sighing heavily again, Draco nodded his agreement. “I know, but at least it would only have taken a minute. I mean honestly, how long does it take to wave your wand over a plastic pot of pee?”
~~~
“Mr Potter, your results are ready.”
Healer Dover stood in the threshold of the door to the examination rooms, smiling at Harry and Draco.
Harry gulped and gripped Draco’s hand tighter as they both got up and followed their Healer to her office. Smiling is good. She wouldn’t be smiling if it were bad news. Harry buoyed himself up with these thoughts as he sat down at the handsome oak desk.
Healer Dover sat opposite them, still smiling. “Well, I shan’t keep you in suspense any longer. Congratulations, gentlemen. You’re expecting.”
Harry gasped, tears coming to his eyes. He was pregnant. He barely heard Draco’s whoop of laughter. The hand not being squeezed into numbness by Draco’s fingers sought out his abdomen beneath his robes. Hello little one. Harry grinned.
The two men left Healer Dover’s office feeling significantly lighter than they had going in, despite being laden down with several prescriptions for pre-natal potions and at least a thousand pieces of literature on what to expect in the coming months.
“I can’t believe it! We did it!” Draco was saying excitedly. “I mean, the last time we were here, we weren’t even sure if you could get pregnant and now… just…” He stopped and turned Harry to face him, eyes alight, and leaned down and kissed him.
“Thank you, Harry.”
“It’s my pleasure.”
~~~
“Why the fuck is it called morning sickness when you’re sick all day?” Harry groaned.
“Dunno, mate. Hermione was never sick,” Ron replied.
The two men were having lunch in a pub, but Harry found he could only stomach a few potato crisps and the odd sip of club soda. It had been a month since he’d found out he was pregnant and, though elated at first, Harry was beginning to regret the whole idea. His body seemed to be rebelling against everything he put into it. He remembered telling Draco what a pleasure it was to be having his baby, but now he couldn’t quite justify it.
“Sure you don’t want some of this?” Ron offered Harry a forkful of mashed potato and gravy.
Harry grimaced and turned away, his stomach churning. “Don’t ever do that again,” he moaned.
Ron looked apologetic but continued to eat with gusto. Harry took another sip of his drink and nibbled a crisp, sadly wondering if he’d ever eat normally again.
“So what did Robards say when you told him?” Ron asked, referring to their highly skilled but sometimes bad-tempered Auror Head.
“Ah, you know him: ‘Let me know when you’re too big to Apparate,’” Harry said, imitating Gawain Robards’ deep, rough voice.
Ron laughed, but then said seriously, “You know Draco will make you take it easy.”
Harry sighed. Since they’d decided to have a baby, Draco had been strongly volleying for a change in Harry’s career. ‘You can’t possibly consider endangering your life when you’re carrying our baby! And in any case, how do you plan to avoid curses and hexes when you’ve gained twenty odd kilos?’ he’d said. Still, Harry had worked far too hard to let his dream job go and, while he agreed in the long term that it would be best for them to stay out of trouble, what was he supposed to do by himself all day? Knit? They had two house elves to take care of their home, and out of pure superstition Harry was putting off baby shopping until the last possible moment. Narcissa Malfoy had already warned him not to boast about his due date, supporting her argument by telling him that all three of Lucius’ sisters had bandied theirs about and had given birth to Squibs. Harry didn’t care (much) about his child being a Squib, but he knew it would break his mother-in-law’s heart.
“I’ll deal with Draco,” Harry said. “The Healer only said I should think about taking on a more sedentary role.”
“Hey, as long as you don’t have to stop to puke when you’re supposed to be watching my back, I’ve got yours all the way, mate.”
Harry grinned. “Thanks, Ron.”
~~~
“You look like shit.”
“I feel worse.” Harry laid his head on the bath mat and closed his eyes. His hair hurt. He’d been in the bathroom for the last three hours, making the decision to stay there and rest on the floor rather than keep waking Draco up by getting in and out of bed.
He felt Draco’s hands touch his face, but was too exhausted to acknowledge him.
“Fuck. Harry, you’ve got a fever.” Panic laced Draco’s voice and Harry was forced to open his eyes again. Draco had stood up and was pulling on clothes. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Harry muttered.
“I’m sure it bloody isn’t. Come on, I’m going to help you stand up, alright?”
~~~
“You’re coming down with a cold, Mr Potter,” said the Healer on call at St Mungo’s.
“Perfect. Just what I need.”
“Not to worry. You can safely take a fever remedy now. You can’t afford to keep your temperature up or it could harm the foetus.” The young man raised his wand and a small bottle of yellow potion zoomed into his hand. “Take a teaspoon of this every eight hours while symptoms persist. If the fever isn’t gone by tomorrow evening, you’ll need to visit your regular Healer.”
“But this won’t hurt the baby, w-will it?” Draco asked.
“Not now, no. A Pepper-up Potion won’t work for him, though. This is a special blend for pregnant mothers… or fathers.”
Harry felt sick again. Draco seemed to sense this and looked helplessly at the Healer. “Isn’t there anything you can give him for the nausea?”
“I’m afraid anything I give him could harm the baby,” said the Healer apologetically. “Take it easy, and don’t hesitate to Floo us with any questions.”
“What about the pre-natal potions he’s taking? Could those be affecting him badly?”
“No, and he needs to keep taking them, especially now; they’re full of vitamins and extra nutrients he’ll need throughout the pregnancy, and we want him in as good shape as possible. The sickness is usually just a phase; sometimes people can be sick during the entire pregnancy, but I wouldn’t worry about it too much unless it gets to the point where he becomes dehydrated or starts to lose weight. Right now, he’s fine.”
Harry got off the examining table, staring miserably at the floor as he pulled on his cloak. Draco placed a comforting hand on his back and guided him out the door.
“My wife said that Ritz biscuits helped with the nausea,” said the Healer.
Harry thanked him and he and Draco went back home whereupon he raced to the downstairs toilet and threw up yet again.
“I’m so sorry, Harry,” Draco said sadly as he rubbed Harry’s back gently. “If I’d known it would be so bad -”
“I’d have done it anyway. I’m a Gryffindor - we’re stubborn.”
Harry was smiling and Draco felt his world had become a little less dreary.
“Come on, let’s get you some of that potion and into bed.”
~~~
Hermione visited the following day, bringing with her a bowl of hot chicken noodle soup, which Harry found he could not only keep down, but enjoyed immensely.
“You’re a lifesaver, Hermione,” he said gratefully, setting aside the empty bowl.
“You don’t have to tell me,” she replied with a smile. “How are you feeling otherwise?”
“Okay. That potion I got from the Healer last night made a big difference.”
“It’ll get better, don’t worry. I mean, I know I had the best pregnancy anyone could hope for, but I’m confident you’ll live to tell the tale.”
Harry groaned. “I hope so. If Draco wants any more children, he’s bloody well carrying them himself.”
“It’s not all bad, Harry. You’ll soon begin to experience the benefits of growing life.”
“Yeah? Like what?”
Hermione grinned. “The sex is phenomenal.”
She was right. Harry first noticed his increased sensitivity to Draco’s touch just a few days after he’d crossed his first trimester mark. They’d just woken up and Draco had stroked a lazy hand over Harry’s belly while pressing the softest kiss to the back of his neck, sending a marvellous jolt of electricity down Harry’s spine, straight between his legs. It was easily the best feeling in the world to be horny again in the morning rather than hanging his head over the toilet. He’d turned to Draco and suggested that they make love, nearly laughing out loud at the look of shock on his husband’s face.
“Really? You’re not sick?”
“No, I’m blissfully not.”
“I won’t hurt the baby? I know the Healer said we could, but are you sure?”
Harry smiled slyly and took Draco’s hand, placing it upon his erection. “Very sure.” He turned on his back and removed the flannel pyjama bottoms he wore. “And don’t hold back.”
It was hard, fast and utterly delectable, Harry decided fifteen minutes later as they lay in post-coital bliss. Harry had overlooked the fact that Draco was equally as horny as he was, not having even taken care of his own business while Harry had been sick. Feeling a surge of happiness, Harry curled himself around his husband, kissing his warm chest. “I haven’t felt this good in… well, I can’t really remember.”
“Probably not since we conceived.” Draco glanced at the clock on his bedside and groaned. “It’s getting late; we’ve got to move.” He kissed Harry and gently disengaged himself from his embrace.
“Bugger. Can’t we call in sick? I think I could easily have sex all day,” Harry said, covering his head with the duvet.
“Sounds delightful, but I think you’ve used up all your sick days for the next three years.”
Harry tapped his rounded belly gently. “Do you hear that? All this for you.”
“Oh, Harry.” Draco rolled his eyes and then got out of bed.
“So, I’ll meet you in your office at lunchtime for another round?”
Draco grinned. “Excellent.”
~~~
“Potter!”
Harry started and realised he was in a room full of people staring at him. Christ! He’d just been having the most erotic daydream involving Draco sucking him off against their front door, which was fine, but he’d never had one during a briefing before.
“Welcome back,” Gawain said coldly, looking down his nose at Harry. “As I was saying, I need you and Weasley to check out that disturbance reported in Cheltenham.”
“Yes, sir.” Harry could feel his face burning.
“Right, good luck all of you, even those who haven’t been paying attention.”
The Aurors began to get up and divide into their respective pairs and Gawain approached Harry and Ron. “Potter, if you are at any time not up to this job, I need to know as soon as possible so I can find a replacement.”
Harry nodded, too embarrassed to speak. Ron, however, took pity on him and led him out of the room, a large, comforting hand on his back. “Don’t worry about it, mate. Remember what I said.”
Shaking his head, Harry went to collect his file containing details on their assignment. Draco was going to kill himself laughing. “So what’s the story?” Harry asked as they walked into the Ministry Atrium.
“From the looks of it, a wizard living in a Muggle neighbourhood had a wild party last night. There were some bangs going off and the next door neighbours were worried and called the police whose Magical Intelligence alerted us. I really hope it was just some drunken hexing so we can go home early.”
“Agreed.” They turned together and Apparated to the address supplied in their notes.
~~~
Draco cast another impatient look at his watch and shuffled the parchment on his desk again, fidgeting as he always did when he was agitated. Harry should have arrived in his office ten minutes ago, but there was still no sign of him. It’s alright, Draco told himself for the third time. It’s perfectly normal for him to be late; he’s just not back from his assignment and hasn’t had time to check in with headquarters. Taking a deep breath to try to quell the uprising knot of nervousness in his gut, Draco got up and began to fiddle with his documents and instruments, rearranging and regrouping.
Another five minutes had gone by and he hadn’t been able to shake the ominous feeling that threatened to overwhelm him. They’d have heard something by now if he was hurt. But ‘no news is good news’ was not working for Draco. He knew Harry could handle himself; he had trained for many years and he was excellent at his job, but their impending family… Draco couldn’t think about it. He grabbed his cloak from the back of the door and made to hurry out, only to run smack into someone just outside his door.
“Oh, Mr Malfoy, I’m so sorry! I was just coming to tell you!” It was Patrick Darwin, Gawain Robards’ assistant.
“Tell me what?” His heart, already beating unreasonably fast, sped up.
“It’s Mr Potter. He was admitted to hospital half an hour ago. He…”
Draco didn’t hear the rest. His head was filled with images of Harry’s dead body, of their baby being born prematurely, of… Draco felt sick. He was so angry with the Ministry for even allowing Harry into the field in his delicate condition, he couldn’t even see straight as he caught a lift.
Livid and beside himself with worry, Draco was surprised to find himself in the reception area at St Mungo’s, having Apparated into London, just outside Purge and Dow’s Ltd. the moment he could. The witch behind the counter smiled engagingly at him. “Can I help you, sir?”
“My husband, Harry Potter, he was admitted half an hour ago. Where is he?” Draco growled.
The witch looked mildly horrified, but she seemed to sense his desperation. “He’s in room fifteen, just down the corridor and to the right, but we haven’t got any more news since he was brought in.”
But Draco was already halfway down the corridor where he found Ron and Hermione sitting and talking quietly.
“What happened?”
Ron stood up, looking near to tears. “Draco, I’m so sorry.” Anger gave way to blind panic when Draco noticed that his clothes were splattered with blood.
“What the fuck happened?”
“We went on assignment in Cheltenham, nothing out of the ordinary. When we got there, we found the place was warded, so Harry said he’d go in and check it out. I-I shouldn’t have let him, I should have gone in first - it just happened so quickly, and there was so much blood. Then we were attacked; I had to leave him.” Ron’s voice faltered and he rubbed his eyes, still horrified. “I Stunned as many as I could and called for back-up and medical help, and they brought him here. I got back as soon as I could, but there hasn’t been any word yet. I’m so sorry.”
Draco fell into a chair and dropped his face in his hands. This was exactly what he’d been afraid of. He’d begged Harry not to continue working in the field, but he was so stubborn… Anger threatened to consume him again, and he got up and began to pace. He’d promised to protect Harry, and he’d gone and just let him endanger his life, and worse still, their baby’s life. He couldn’t stand it.
“I’m going in.”
“Draco, you can’t!” Hermione grabbed his arm. “I know it’s hard, but you can’t do anything for him. The Healers are doing everything they can.”
“Hermione, that’s my family in there!”
“I know, but you-” The door to Harry’s room opened and the wizard Healer stepped out.
Draco leapt on him. “Are they alright? I’m his husband.”
“He and the baby are going to be fine. Mr Potter has lost a lot of blood, but the baby has not suffered any adverse reactions to the sudden drop in blood-pressure. We stopped the bleeding and patched him up, but he’ll need to stay in the hospital for at least a week for observation. He’s a very lucky man.”
“Can we see him?” Ron asked.
“Yes,” said the Healer, “But not for long, he needs to rest.”
Draco made to go forward with Ron and Hermione, but the Healer called him back.
“I’ll be sending a report for Harry’s regular Healer with all the details of the attack, including a report from Mr Weasley.” Draco nodded. “Mr Malfoy, I would also strongly recommend a change in lifestyle. I know who he is and what he’s done, but he’s carrying a child in a very high-risk pregnancy. I would hate for anything worse to happen.”
Draco sighed. “Not more than me. I tried to convince him. He’s so stubborn…” He was unable to continue. The Healer placed a hand on his arm. “I understand. All of the Aurors we see are equally as stubborn as your husband, but he needs to understand the magnitude of the repercussions to his actions; it’s not just about him anymore.”
Draco nodded sadly, thanking the Healer for his advice, and entered Harry’s room.
~~~
Harry closed his eyes tightly when he saw Draco’s bowed head pass the threshold. He knew he had fucked up big time. Hermione, who had been holding his hand, stood up and gave him a kiss.
“We’ll leave you two alone,” she said, shooting a glance at Ron, who still looked guilty.
“I’ll come see you tomorrow, mate. Sleep well.”
Hermione kissed Draco goodbye and shut the door firmly behind her.
Draco sat down in Ron’s abandoned chair and took Harry’s hand in his. “You alright?” he asked, voice hoarse.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Harry gulped, placing a hand on his belly, a gesture that made Draco’s stomach disappear and his anger return.
“Well you almost bloody well weren’t! What were you thinking going in there?”
“I was doing my job, Draco.”
“Right, and your job’s worth more than our baby.”
“I’m not going to apologise. I was doing my job and I didn’t react quickly enough; it happens.”
“And what happens the next time you don’t react quickly enough? You die? The baby dies? Take some fucking responsibility, Harry!”
“I am! I’m making a bloody living!”
“Oh, don’t you make this about money, Harry, don’t even try it. I can’t fucking believe that you’re trying to justify yourself! After all the warnings the Healers gave you, after all the warnings I gave you!” Draco got up and began pacing again. “How could you? You know how hard it was to conceive, how sick you’ve been, and you throw it all away on one assignment? You have your whole life to be an Auror! Why can’t you just take it easy for a few months, Harry?”
“But there’s nothing to do! I’ll drive myself crazy! Do you know what it’s like sitting around the house, staring at the walls?”
“No one ever said that you had to stay at home and do nothing. Just get out of the field, and stop being so fucking selfish.”
Harry stared defiantly at his husband. “And if I don’t?”
For a moment, Draco looked as though he was going to slap him, then he said unsteadily, “Don’t push that barrier with me, Harry. My nerves can’t take it.”
He sat back down, his head back in his hands through which he muttered, “Please, don’t make me feel like I did today again, I’m begging you.” He leaned forward and took Harry’s hand again. “I wouldn’t survive if I lost you, either of you.”
They were silent for several minutes as Harry allowed Draco’s words to sink in. He’d worked so hard to get where he wanted to be, to get all the things that he wanted for himself after a childhood of living for everyone else, Harry was finally content with his life. He had his dream job, he had friends, and he had Draco. Then Draco had suggested that they have a baby, appealing to Harry’s soft side.
“It’s your chance to have a family, Harry,” he’d said. Harry wanted a family more than anything and he was thrilled at Draco’s suggestion, beginning his research immediately, feeling that they needed to do it sooner than later. He was already thirty and felt that he’d enjoyed enough of his youth to start wanting more from his life with his husband.
He realised, as he lay in the hospital bed with his arm and shoulder heavily bandaged, that he hadn’t been prepared for the level of sacrifice it would require. He rubbed slow circles over his belly, concentrating on soothing the foetus growing inside. The day’s events were catching up with him and he realised what a colossal idiot he’d been. He’d been so blinded by defying everyone’s expectations of his physical limits that he’d vastly overlooked the most important thing: this baby, his miracle.
The tears started before he could stop them and he reached out for Draco. “I’m so sorry,” he sobbed. “I’ve been a complete arse.”
“Glad you’ve cottoned on.” Draco was still hurt and angry but he climbed carefully into bed beside his husband, holding him gently. “I suppose being stuck in the hospital for a week is comeuppance enough.”
“I just… didn’t want to be weak. I was so concerned with not allowing my being pregnant to interfere with anything that I didn’t pay attention to the bigger picture. I’ve been feeling so awful, I just wanted to prove that I hadn’t become… I dunno, female.”
“Harry, I hate to say this, but I think women are made of much stronger stuff than we realise. And we really don’t know that many gay couples who’ve been able to get pregnant, so it’s not like you have the kind of support Hermione had. Plus, she had a virtually non-existent pregnancy, which rarely happens. Don’t beat yourself up, baby. I know what you’re saying, but sometimes you just have to let it go and say, ‘I can’t do that anymore’ as loathe as you are to admit such a ghastly thing.”
Harry laughed wetly. “I really am.”
“And just look at it this way: Gawain Robards could never replace you. I know you hate to hear it, but your shoes are way too big to fill.”
Harry flung his head back on Draco’s shoulder. “But I’m going to get so fat!” he wailed.
Draco chuckled and kissed him. “You’re too skinny anyway.”
~~~
It was nothing short of torture, Harry decided, to watch Ron and his for-the-time-being partner, a new bloke called Marcus Banks, leave on their first field assignment together the week after Harry had been discharged from St Mungo’s. It was painful, Harry was jealous, and he’d received another major blow to his pride, but no one commiserated with him. He should have taken a desk job in the beginning was the general conclusion. Hermione even went so far as to bring up his ‘saving people thing’ again, for which he did not speak to her for several days. Ron, still holding extreme feelings of guilt, begged Harry not to make him feel worse by sulking. They both had jobs to do, and he could not afford to worry for Harry and the baby’s safety when he was supposed to be concentrating on not getting killed himself. He had a family to provide for, too. Harry completely understood that this was the best for the baby, but he couldn’t help how he felt.
Draco, however, was being completely wonderful about the whole thing and it was a definite comfort to feel so loved and looked after, even though it was mostly just to cheer him up. His favourite meals were served more often at dinner, and Harry found little presents of chocolate and love notes on his pillow or his desk when he got into work. It was sweet of him, and Harry appreciated the effort. Pregnancy, not having been loads of fun thus far, was getting easier on him. With the sickness completely gone, Harry found he was able to enjoy the positive effects much more. His skin looked like new, his hair was shiny and actually behaving itself for once and his appetite for sex continued to increase, Draco’s office becoming a regular lunchtime retreat. They’d been walked in on once by Draco’s assistant, Felicity, when, in their haste they’d forgotten to lock the door, and were reduced to helpless giggles as they sat half-dressed on Draco’s desk. Draco later said the poor girl had been unable to look him in the eye since, and Harry, unable to resist a tease, winked knowingly at her on every available occasion.
Draco was thrilled that Harry’s mood had dramatically improved in the last couple of weeks despite his daily ‘This paperwork crap is not working for me’ complaints. He was glad his plan of spoiling his husband was working instead. The day after Harry was admitted to St Mungo’s, Draco had visited his Healer who told him that many pregnant wizards suffered from Harry’s kind of depression and feelings of uselessness; it went against all that was masculine, and Harry, always the Gryffindor, had a level of pride about him that he was trying his best to maintain. Healer Dover said that it would probably pass quickly, that Harry’s hormones were still sorting themselves out and all he needed was to be reassured that he was still the same person - just more fragile. It was an immense effort on Draco’s part not to treat Harry like expensive crystal, but he found as time went by, Harry began to settle and enjoy his pregnancy.
~~~
Harry flopped down on the couch one evening in mid-December, a tin of biscuits in his hand for them to share. At five months, his appetite for food had become almost equal to that of his libido and he’d started to put on more weight - not that he cared a scrap anymore - Draco kept telling him how gorgeous his pregnant belly was. Two cups of tea appeared on the coffee table in front of them, and Draco smiled, pulling Harry’s legs on to his lap, accepting the Ginger Newt he was offered.
“Have you got all your shopping done?”
“Most of it, yeah. We’re still on for parent-shopping this week, right?”
Draco groaned. “Don’t remind me. I never know what to get for your father-in-law.”
“Oh, is that what he’s called these days?”
“Well, he asks about you daily, hardly bothering to enquire after my health and happiness.”
Harry smiled. “I suppose once the baby and I are both healthy, you just kind of fall into place.”
Making a face, Draco bit into his biscuit. “I’m afraid I reluctantly agree.”
“If you had a choice, would you want us to have a girl or a boy?” he asked Harry later on, his head cushioned by Harry’s belly, hoping to feel movement.
Harry immediately replied, “A boy.”
“Why?”
“For the simple reason that we don’t know anything about girls! What will we do in thirteen years when she says she’s got her period? I think I’d faint. And how will we not kill any boy who displays a hint of romantic interest in her?”
Bursting into laughter, Draco said, “Don’t worry, she’s got aunts and a grandmother for all of that. Except ridding the world of unsuitable boys part - I think we’ve got that covered.”
Harry snorted. “Still, a boy would be much easier; we’d only have to worry about his penis and not a million others.”
“My father said the same thing about me.”
Harry grinned lasciviously. “He was certainly wrong about that, wasn’t he?”
Draco grinned back. “Indeed.” He got to his knees, parting Harry’s legs around him, and kissed him. “Pregnancy has given you a very dirty mind, Mr Potter.”
Harry lay back, placing his hands behind his head. “No, I’m just exuding blatant sex appeal.”
“That, too.”
~~~
The house was still and seemingly empty when Draco returned home from a late meeting at the start of January. When he’d looked at the calendar in the kitchen that morning, he’d been treated to a wave of excitement when he read Harry’s scrawled ‘Three more months!’ in the little square.
Just before Christmas, Harry had decided to take early leave from his job. He found it a waste of time when, as his belly grew bigger and the baby started to press on his bladder, he could only sit for five minutes to work before he got too hot, had to use the loo or his back started to hurt too badly and he’d have to get up and walk around. Robards was happy to let him take the leave early, as Harry had also become remarkably bad-tempered and tended to snap at the two trainee Aurors who had just recently made the cut. Harry now spent his days resting and eating, just as he was supposed to.
Narcissa had relented somewhat and had been at the house working on the nursery, and she and Harry had so far painted the walls in daffodil yellow (to cover all eventualities, she’d said) and installed the crib Draco had used as a baby, placing in it a brand new mattress with the softest down comforter Draco had ever felt. He climbed the stairs quietly and entered the room next to his and Harry’s. He smiled, imagining what it was going to be like to come home and dote upon his actual flesh and blood.
“Draco, is that you?” Harry called from the next room.
Closing the nursery door, Draco entered his own room to find Harry sitting on the bed, an empty bowl and spoon next to him, pictures littering the bedspread.
“Hi.” Draco kissed his husband lingeringly, telling him with the contact how much he’d missed him.
“Your nose is cold,” Harry murmured. “There’s some hot soup in the kitchen if you’re hungry.”
“Hmm, maybe later. I’ve missed you. What are you doing?”
Harry smiled and moved the pictures aside so Draco could sit. “Your mum brought the pictures she had taken of us at Christmas. I was thinking we could spend the evening starting up our family photo album, and maybe put some in the baby’s room. Hermione got me some frames.”
Draco’s heart swelled with happiness. The simple joy Harry got from doing things like collating their family photographs, and seeing that there was always something warm for Draco to eat when he got home even though he knew he didn’t have to made Draco fall in love with him all over again.
“God, we’re an attractive family,” Draco said a couple of hours later as he admired the framed photographs of him and Harry they’d arranged on the shelves in the sitting room. The photographer had taken a semi-nude picture of the two of them in the ornate gazebo at Malfoy Manor in which Draco was kneeling before Harry and placing a kiss on his belly. It was easily the sexiest photograph Draco could remember seeing.
“We are, aren’t we?” Harry said softly. Draco turned Harry to face him, feeling the familiar stirring in his loins, and kissed him deeply.
“Let’s go to bed.”
“Already? But you haven’t eaten yet.”
“Don’t care. I want you now,” Draco said, his voice low and penetrating. He led Harry up the stairs and closed the door to their bedroom behind him. Harry went to stand at the foot of the bed and began to unbutton his robes, but Draco stopped him. “Let me do it.”
“What’s with you?” Harry gasped, his eyes falling closed as Draco’s lips closed on his neck.
“You’re irresistible, Harry,” he whispered, nibbling Harry’s earlobes, pulling him as close as possible. Between their bodies, Draco began to undress Harry, dropping to his knees to press kisses into Harry’s warm belly. He lowered Harry onto the bed and knelt over him, pausing only for a moment to remove his own shirt before leaning down again to resume the plunder of his partner’s body, his arousal blooming further at the sweet sounds of Harry’s soft gasps and moans.
Marvelled once again by Harry’s sensitivity to touch, Draco kept the foreplay up as long as he could, gently flicking at Harry’s nipples with his tongue as he slid his fingers into the crevice of his arse, teasing and preparing. He knew it would never last and soon, Harry was digging his fingers into Draco’s back, whispering, ‘Please, Draco, I’m so close.”
It was all he needed to hear. He entered his husband slowly and deliberately, his heart fluttering at the sound of his name on Harry’s lips and the soft slide of bare skin.
~~~
“We’ve got to plan a baby shower for Harry.”
Draco raised his head and he caught the excited brown gaze and wide grin of Hermione Weasley who’d bounded into his office and sat on his desk.
“’We’ who? I know nothing of baby showers; I’m gay, not female.”
“Fine. Can I have permission, then, to decorate your house for a baby shower for Harry?”
“What does he need a baby shower for? Isn’t that some kind of girlie party with lots of pink and ribbons?”
“Well, you are expecting a girl, so yes.”
Draco smiled. At Harry’s last appointment, their Healer had finally been able to determine the baby’s gender and, despite previous misgivings, Harry was enchanted to be having a daughter whom they’d decided to name Delilah Lily. Catching himself, he glared at Hermione again. “Back to my original question: what need is there?”
“It’s something nice to do for Harry. He’s not been feeling his best lately, and it will cheer him up to have people around. Besides, there are presents. There are things you two will need and not even think to get.”
“Hermione, do you think me so shallow that I would allow you full run of my house just to get pink booties that my daughter will wear for a grand total of five days before she outgrows them?”
“Don’t be such a pain in the arse, Draco. Can we use your house or not?”
Draco regarded her for a moment, knowing deep down that even if he said ‘No’, she’d probably go ahead and throw the shower there anyway. He sighed. “Fine. Whatever you want. And charge everything to my vault.”
“You don’t have to do all of that, we can-“
“If Harry’s going to be having a party at our house, it will be spared no expense. My family deserves the best.”
“I’m glad you think so.”
It was with great trepidation that Draco entered his house the morning of the shower, two weeks later. Hermione and the Weasley women had taken it upon themselves to decorate and he was extremely apprehensive to see what they would make of his tastefully decorated living and dining area. Harry had been told nothing, and it took all of Draco’s powers of persuasion to get him out of the house for two hours so that the preparations could take place. Harry complained bitterly the entire time that they were out on their walk cum breakfast that he was hot and felt like a whale, and moreover, how dare Draco remove him from his safe home and throw him to the Muggles, certain that they would notice that he was more than a little bit fat.
“Harry, do you honestly take me for an idiot? I Disillusioned your belly, and besides, since when have Muggles ever paid any attention to what’s right in front of them?”
Harry only huffed and folded his arms crossly.
Draco opened the front door cautiously, shielding the inside from Harry’s view just in case it looked like a war zone. As pissy as Harry was being, he didn’t want to be held responsible for any damage to him or the baby so soon before the birth. Harry, impatient as ever, prodded him in the ribs and pushed him aside. “Out of my way, Malfoy, I need to p-oh my God!”
It was an explosion of pink and women. Glittering banners reading ‘It’s A Girl!’ covered the walls and archways, pink balloons and confetti littered the ceiling and floor, and not a horizontal surface was devoid of food or gifts wrapped in bright pink paper and ribbons.
“Surprise!” The cry of welcome knocked Draco half off his feet and reduced Harry to a fit of very emasculating giggles. Draco had to blame the hormones. His Harry didn’t giggle.
All in all, even Draco had to admit that it was a lovely party. He could have had a little less of everyone touching Harry’s belly and cooing over them both and offering textbooks worth of advice on raising a daughter, but he was sure that he’d appreciate it when Delilah was born. The food was superb and even the decorations, pink as they were, suited the house. Glancing at his mother at one point, Draco deduced that she had been approached for her assistance. There was a flair he recognised.
Both he and Harry were thrilled beyond comprehension at the number of gifts they had received. Obvious things like bottles and baby clothes, down to the most exquisite charm bracelet from Draco’s parents that included tiny family crests as the charms. Molly Weasley had knitted Delilah a beautiful pink blanket with her name on, and Ron and Hermione had given them several baby books, a photo album and, as a joke, a pair of lurid pink booties.
It was late evening by the time all the guests had left, the house returned to normal (save for a few balloons and one of the glittering banners), and the gifts put away in the nursery, Harry and Draco had a light dinner and filled up the tub for a good long soak.
“You know, nearly everyone I spoke to today said they had monstrous food cravings while they were pregnant; your mother’s friend Janine said she even had one for dirt, if you can believe something so repulsive.”
“I really can’t,” Draco said, rubbing Harry’s back with a soap-filled sponge. “I’m kind of happy you didn’t have them. I really didn’t fancy having to get up at o’ dark thirty to make a supermarket run for you.”
“Ha, yes, I know how much you hate Tesco’s as it is,” Harry said. He smiled, placing his hands fondly on his belly. “I guess the pregnancy turned out alright in the end, didn’t it?”
“Yeah, it did.”
~~~
After making love two nights later, Draco lay with his head on Harry’s belly, stroking gently.
“She’s quiet tonight,” he commented, brushing his lips against where Delilah’s head lay.
Harry barely hummed in response and squirmed, shifting away from Draco. He was hot and tired, having spent most of the day with his mother-in-law preparing the nursery for Delilah’s arrival in two weeks. His back was particularly achy, and he had only given Draco sex because he’d asked nicely with a piece of chocolate cake. Harry was sure that Delilah was just as tired as he was, accounting for her lessened activity. Draco often joked that their daughter was quite the nymphomaniac as she always seemed to kick and bat at Harry’s insides the most after they’d made love.
Harry only felt a little bit guilty when, after no show of further affection from him, Draco moved to lie on his own side of the bed, barely touching him. Tonight, he just wanted to sleep and could hardly be bothered with cuddling.
At first, Harry wasn’t sure whether it was his dream of being kicked viciously in the back by a Hippogriff or real pain that had woken him. Then, he felt it again a minute later. Christ. I’ve gone into labour. It was just as Healer Dover had described the pain of contractions. He lay quietly for a moment, breathing deeply until it passed. She’d also told him that labour could last from anywhere between four to thirty-six hours and that he wasn’t to panic. He eased himself into a sitting position and was about to put his feet on the floor when he felt the pain again, stronger and for a greater length of time. Double Christ. He reached over and shook Draco roughly.
“Whassamatter?” Draco slurred, barely rolling over.
“I think I’ve gone into labour.”
“Oh, s’nice.”
Harry stood up and felt an unfamiliar heaviness in the pelvic area. “Draco, you need to wake up. I’ve gone into labour!” His last words were louder as another contraction began and he was forced to grip the nightstand to prevent himself from dropping to his knees.
Fortunately, his shout had been enough to rouse Draco properly. He was out of bed in a trice, supporting Harry from behind and helping him to sit back down again, rubbing slow circles over his back to calm him, sensing that he was frightened.
“You alright?” Draco asked quietly once Harry’s breathing had evened out. He had lit the lamps and was staring at Harry with extreme concern.
“I think- I think it’s happening more quickly than normal.” These were not the signs Healer Dover had told him about. His contractions weren’t supposed to be so close yet. “I need you to call the hospital and have them get Healer Dover.”
“Okay, Harry. I’ll be right back.” Draco flung his dressing gown over his shoulders and tore downstairs.
Taking slow, deep breaths, Harry tried to calm his mind and get his wits about him. He looked at the time. Four thirty in the morning. Thanks, Delilah. Couldn’t have waited till I was properly awake, could you?
Draco thundered back up the stairs and began pulling on clothes and talking very fast. “Healer Dover is on her way. She said that you’ve passed the point where magical travel is unsafe and there is no way you’d make it to London via Muggle transport.”
“What?” Harry stared dumbfounded at his husband. All the last minute details they’d worked out, all the preparations he’d made… Christ!
“She’s gathering her team of Healers and they’ll be right over.”
“But- but I can’t have the baby here!” Harry could feel another contraction coming on along with rising panic. It wasn’t safe. What would happen if the baby was in distress and she needed specific potions? What if something happened to him and they couldn’t get him to St Mungo’s in time? What if he died? Harry wasn’t aware that he’d started crying until Draco was kneeling in front of him and brushing the tears away.
“Harry, everything is going to be alright.” Draco squeezed Harry’s hands tightly. “I’ll be with you all the way, okay?”
Hearing the sureness in Draco’s voice brought Harry back from the pit of despair he’d been teetering on the edge of and he looked into his husband’s eyes, hungrily accepting the reassurance he found in them, and in his touch. Another contraction forced him to shut his eyes in agony. Draco didn’t stop holding his hands until it had passed, even when the loud gong-like noise from the front door signalled the arrival of Healer Dover. Once Draco had helped Harry get back into bed, he went back downstairs to collect the Healers and help them with their equipment.
Healer Dover smiled at Harry when she entered the room, and Harry wondered how on earth she could look so wide-awake and cheerful at this hour of the morning. He put it to the use of an Invigorating Draught, for he could not help but be happy to see her and hear that everything was going to be fine.
~~~
While Healer Dover and her team began to sanitize the bathroom and the tub where they’d decided would be the easiest place for the birth, Draco helped Harry to get undressed and then into the water-filled tub.
“Muggles do this, you know,” Harry said, once settled against his husband. “Have their babies in water. It’s supposed to be a better transition from the womb to air.”
“Are you nervous?” Draco asked.
“A little bit. More excited than anything; I can’t wait to see her.”
“Nor can I.” Draco brushed the slightly damp hair off Harry’s forehead and leaned down to kiss him. “I love you.”
“The pain potions should be taking effect now, Harry. How do you feel?” Healer Dover asked from where she sat on the other side of the large screen she had conjured for just below Harry’s neck. Draco could see over it if he wanted, but she’d said that as it was not a natural birth, she was not taking any chances of either of them passing out from the sight of blood. Harry had been hooked up to several strange instruments that monitored his heart rate and various other functions, changes in which, he’d been informed, could mean the difference between life and death.
“Numb, thank Merlin.”
“Good, we can get to work then. Let me know if you feel dizzy, or if you’re in any pain, Harry.”
“Okay.”
One of her assistants, Healer Frances, a pretty young woman with a bright smile, came over to their side of the screen, a myriad of potions on a tray.
“Blood-Replenishing potion, and some back-up pain ones,” she said in response to the questions in their eyes.
“Have you ever been to a home birth before?” Draco asked her as he rubbed Harry’s shoulders.
“Once, but I’ve seen wizard births at St Mungo’s and when I was in school. Healer Dover is one of the leading alternate parent Healers in the world.”
“We’re lucky to have her,” Harry said. He grimaced. “That feels funny.”
“Once she makes the first cut, it’ll be a matter of seconds before she gets the baby out.”
Harry reached up to take Draco’s hand. Please, let everything be alright. Draco squeezed tightly. “I’m right here, Harry.”
“I know.”
“She’s coming,” said Healer Dover.
Then, there was a splashing noise and Harry felt as though something had left him. Draco’s body was tense behind him, and he held Harry’s hand in a vice-like grip. Mere seconds later, Harry’s entire body was flooded with an emotion he could not describe as a tiny, piercing wail echoed around the room.
He barely heard the Healers’ congratulations as, over the screen, Healer Dover held up his daughter for him to see.
~~~
Epilogue
Baby Delilah was nothing short of perfection. From the moment she’d been placed in Harry’s arms and had opened up her cloudy greyish eyes, he knew there was nothing he’d ever be able to deny her. Draco had cried and cried, but Harry could do nothing but stare. For the first time in his life, he had a full blood-relative that he could love infinitely and who would love him back. Delilah was everything.
In the twenty-four hours following Delilah’s birth, Harry and Draco didn’t leave their bed, taking it in turns to hold her safe and warm in their arms while the other rested. Narcissa and Lucius had come to the house immediately upon hearing that their first grandchild had been born, bearing gifts and baskets of fruit, chocolate and champagne. The Weasleys arrived soon after, and in the event of such a miracle, even the animosity between Lucius and Arthur was forgotten and they shared champagne like two old friends.
Harry was sure he’d faint on the first day he’d ventured downstairs to get himself a sandwich and went into the nursery to find his father-in-law sitting in the rocking chair, holding Delilah against his chest.
“She was whimpering,” he’d said quietly. “This used to soothe Draco to sleep,”
Draco reluctantly went back to work with the guarantee that Harry and Delilah would not be left alone, and often came home at all hours to make sure that Harry was eating well and resting and that the baby was carefully monitored. He was the first one up in the middle of the night to give her a bottle or change her nappy which Harry appreciated as he was still a little bit sore from the surgery. There was no scar, but he could still feel the odd pulling sensation on the inside that he’d been assured was perfectly normal.
As she grew, Delilah’s eyes changed slowly to a brilliant shade of green that perfectly matched Harry’s, but her hair remained blonde and her features took on the delicate pointed structure that only a Malfoy could boast. Lucius and Draco were delighted.
When Delilah began sleeping through the night at three months old, Draco climbed slowly into bed next to Harry and rested a hand on his flat belly, stroking gently. Harry arched into the touch, feeling that his own body was long overdue for some TLC. Moving closer, Draco began by dropping kisses on Harry’s chest, inhaling the newly-washed scent, his hand still stoking Harry’s belly and ribs.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said.
“Oh?”
“Baby number two sounds like a good plan.”