Chapter Text
I cannot wait until rolling over is no longer this difficult.
Harry heaves his body once again and shifts to his other side. It’s sometime between midnight and sunrise and he simply can not get comfortable. He eyeballs his husband of ten days, sleeping soundly next to him.
He’s lucky I don’t smother him with a pillow.
When this position is no more comfortable than the one prior, he shifts again, this time onto his hands and knees, belly hanging below him, desperate for anything that takes away that painful pressure he’s been battling in his lower back. He drops down to his elbows and groans softly. This at least helps the pain in his hips.
And then there’s another wave of discomfort rushing over him as his back protests having Regulus’ weight suspended from his spine. Why can’t anything be comfortable for more than three minutes?!? He rocks softly back and forth in an attempt to distract himself from the frustration of it all.
“Harry?” Draco’s voice is thick with sleep. “What time is it?”
“I have no idea,” he grits out, “but I haven’t slept more than fifteen minutes all night.”
He feels the bed shift as Draco sits up, but he can’t even bring himself to look over at his husband. He just rocks, slowly, and tries to think about anything other than the constant discomfort he’s feeling.
Warm hands land on either side of his spine and begin rubbing. He moans at the relieving touch.
“Do you think you’re in labour?”
“I don’t think so. It’s the same discomfort I’ve been battling; I just can’t get it to go away.”
“Have you taken any pain-relief potion?
“I took a dose when we went to bed.”
“That was five hours ago. You can have more.” Draco’s hands still against his back. “What about a warm bath? You can take a dose and we can get in the tub and see if the water helps.”
“It’s worth a try.”
Draco hands him a phial of potion and heads for the bathroom. The sound of water running creates another issue entirely. He swallows the potion and sighs. At over 37 weeks pregnant, he swears he spends half his time going to the loo, in the loo, or heading out of the loo.
“Draco?” he calls softly.
“Yes, love?” Draco’s head pops around the door.
“I need the loo. Can you help me up?”
“Of course.” Draco pads across the room and strong arms help Harry to sit upright. He reaches up and puts his arms around his husband’s neck and heaves himself to stand. Balance has become an issue in the last week or so as Regulus has gotten so much bigger and every bit of the weight is out in front.
Draco helps him to the loo and then steps into the warm water, waiting until Harry is ready to get in. Harry grips his hands and steps over the edge of the tub, and they settle together, Harry leaning heavily on Draco’s chest. The warmth of the water is immediately relieving.
“Oh, that helps.” Harry closes his eyes and tries to rein in his emotions. This pregnancy will be worth it in the end, but he’s just so fed up with being perpetually helpless and uncomfortable. And tired. So tired. “I’m just so ready to not be pregnant. This is miserable.”
“I know, love.” Draco drops a kiss to his temple. “I wish there were something more I could do.”
“Reach up in there and pull him out,” Harry says, only half kidding.
“We can call Healer Carr or Healer Powell about inducing.”
“If I am still this miserable later today, we can see what Healer Carr thinks. I don’t want to push Regulus before he’s ready, but I’m just done.”
“I know. Lay back and see if you can rest, maybe even sleep. I’ll be right here.”
Harry winces as he opens his eyes sometime later to see James perched on the edge of the tub.
“I’m sorry, Dad, did I wake you? I just brought Draco some tea.”
“No, it wasn’t you. I’m having pain again. How long did I sleep?”
“It’s just after nine, so a few hours.” Draco’s hands rub his stomach gently. “What kind of pain are you having?”
“Low back again, but it’s starting to wrap around my belly.” Harry looks to James. “Would you Floo Healer Carr and tell her it’s not an extreme emergency, but I think I need to be checked over?”
“Of course.” James is up and out of the bathroom immediately.
“Do you think you’re labouring?”
“I think I might be starting.” Harry manages a smile. “I think we might get to meet our son today.”
Draco’s arms hold him tight. “That sounds wonderful.”
“Birthing him scares the pants off of me, but it’ll be worth it in the end.”
“It will. I’m so ready to finally see the baby that I’ve watched grow from the outside. I didn’t get to see Scorpius being born, I’m so glad I’ll get to be with you for Regulus’ birth.”
Footsteps echo from the other room and James reappears with Healer Carr in tow.
“I told you it wasn’t an emergency, James.”
“I told her that. She came right away anyway.”
“He did tell me. I was available, so I came on through.” Healer Carr sets down her bag. “Do you think you’re in labour, Mr Potter?”
“I honestly don’t know, but last night I couldn’t sleep at all. Absolutely nothing was comfortable for more than three minutes. I did manage to snooze once Draco got me into the tub, but now the discomfort is moving out of my back and hips and wrapping around my stomach.”
“That sounds like it could be early labour. We’ll have a check.”
“James?” Draco’s voice is soft. “Can you round up the others and let them know what’s going on? And then Floo your Aunt Hermione? If your dad’s in labour, today is going to be a little intense.”
“Sure.” James smiles and heads for the door.
“Okay, Mr Potter. Let’s see if you can turn over on your knees and put your head on your husband’s shoulder.”
With the help of both the Healer and Draco, Harry turns. He feels positively ridiculous like this, his arse sticking out of the water. But if he’s in labour, he supposes there will be a lot of feeling ridiculous today.
Healer Carr’s fingers slide in and she makes an approving noise. “You’re most definitely labouring, Mr Potter. The opening to your canal is dilating and your membrane is stretching. Your anus isn’t really dilating yet, so still early on, but you are indeed in labour.”
Her fingers slide out and she and Draco help Harry to return to sitting against his husband.
“What do you recommend?”
“If you’re able, I would recommend taking your pain potion to take the edge off and walk, just as much as you can possibly stand. The potion is safe until your water breaks. Keep someone with you, as you’ll probably have to pause and lean on them when your contractions really begin to intensify. I’ll come at least every hour and check on you. If your water breaks, go immediately to the Male Pregnancy Unit. I’ll alert Healer Powell that you’re in labour.”
“Do you think we’ll have the baby today?”
“You likely laboured through a lot of the night, so I would say probably so. For wizards, it usually tends to be slow at the beginning, then much quicker towards the end.” She stands and gathers her bag. “I’ll be back in an hour or so.”
She heads down the stairs and Harry takes a deep breath. “We’re having a baby today, Draco.”
“I know. I can’t believe he’ll be here, in our arms.”
“Let’s start walking. I’d like to get this show on the road, so to speak.”
Draco helps him from the tub and he dresses in a long nightgown with nothing underneath. It’s yet another thing that makes him feel ridiculous, but all his books recommend such attire for labour when, as one book put it, ’it feels like someone wants to stick a finger in every five minutes.’ Together, they make their way downstairs.
Hermione is seated in the living room, surrounded by all five kids.
“Are you in labour, dad?” Lily is positively bouncing with excitement.
“That seems to be the case.” Harry can’t help the smile he gives to Lily, who is so excited to be a big sister. “I’m supposed to do as much walking as I can, so I think Draco and I are going to take a stroll down to the pitch to start with and see how it goes.”
Draco helps Harry into his shoes and together, they move through the French doors and out into the garden. Harry squeezes Draco’s hand as they head down the hill.
“Do you remember the first time you visited? When we walked down to the pitch?”
“I do.”
“That’s when I figured out I really fancied you.”
Draco chuckles. “I spent the entire time between our tea at the coffee shop and that night trying to sort out my feelings. But I knew the minute you opened the front door that I wanted to be much more than your friend.”
“We certainly took long enough after that to get our ducks in a row and start seeing each other properly.” Harry shakes his head, thinking back to the weeks of awkward maybe-flirting on his part.
“We didn’t waste any time after, though, seeing as we’re married and adding another little duck to our row today.” Draco pauses in his walking, tugging Harry into his arms and kissing his forehead. “It’s been a bit of a whirlwind romance, but it’s been perfect for us.”
“If you find the person you’re meant to be with, why wait?” Harry leans against Draco’s chest and wraps his arms around his husband. ”I love you, Draco. I wouldn’t change a thing about how quickly we moved.”
“I love you, too.” Draco releases his hold on Harry and threads their fingers together again.
Hand in hand, they walk, talking about anything and everything except the fact that in a matter of hours, Harry has to push a baby out of his body. They talk about Lily and her excitement over visiting Mina and her family. They talk about Albus and his progress with his anxiety. They talk about Scorpius and his blossoming love of Potions. They talk about James and Matthew and their post-Hogwarts inclinations. Anything but birthing their child.
They walk around the pitch, simply making laps, and pause when Healer Carr arrives for a check. Harry again feels ridiculous, with her reaching under his gown there in the outdoors, but he’s progressed and that’s what really matters.
Eventually, the contractions begin to intensify, and Harry has to lean on Draco. He moans into his husband’s chest and his ear is filled with quiet whispers. “I love you. You’re amazing. I know this hurts but you’re birthing our son. I can’t tell you what that means to me.”
Anything Harry thinks might help when he’s contracting, they try. Draco rubs his back, presses his hips together, and rocks their entwined bodies back and forth in turn, but nothing can actually quell the feeling of being turned inside out.
On Healer Carr’s fourth visit, she tells them that his membrane is nearly fully dilated, and his anal opening has started to soften. “This means contractions are going to get worse, but it also means you’re turning towards the home stretch. If your water breaks before I come back, take your Portkey to St Mungo’s. It could be any time.”
When Harry can’t walk through the pain anymore, they return to the house. Draco’s soft hands and smooth voice never waiver, supporting his husband through every pain. He feels like he’s literally being ripped in half every time a contraction hits, but he clings to Draco — to his voice, to his touch — to help him through.
“Draco, I don’t think I can do this.”
“You can, Harry. You can and you will, and in the end, you’ll have our son in your arms.”
The stairs are an impossibility and he labours in the living room, kneeling and squatting against the couch in turn. He’s quite relieved when Healer Carr comes again and checks his progress.
“I don’t think it’s necessary to wait any longer. Healer Powell will be waiting for you. You’ll have a baby in a few hours’ time.”
Draco gathers their bags, and Harry hugs each of their children in turn and then Hermione. “Aunt Hermione will bring you over when Regulus has been born. Draco will text with updates. I love all of you.”
A chorus of “I love you, too”s meet his ears as another contraction rips through his body. He moans and rocks against Draco and the instant it subsides, they Portkey away.
“Good to see you again, Mr Potter, Mr Malfoy,” Healer Powell greets them with a jovial tone.
“It’s Mr Potter for me now, as well. Please call us Draco and Harry.”
Harry can hear the smile in Draco’s voice, even if his head is still lying on Draco’s shoulder.
“Congratulations to you both! Healer Carr sent her notes, but if we can get your husband into the bed, we’ll check him over and see where we are.”
Draco helps Harry into the bed and takes his hand as Healer Powell begins checking him over. Continuous monitoring charms are put into place, and Harry hears the swoosh of Regulus’ heartbeat fill the room.
“You both look great on the monitors, Harry. Let’s see where you’re at.”
Harry requires Draco’s help to lift his leg for Healer Powell to check his dilation, and he mentally scolds himself for feeling weak. He’s birthing a human, for Merlin’s sake.
Before the Healer can even begin to check, Harry cries out involuntarily at the ripping sensation inside his body from another contraction. “Draco!”
“I’m right here, love, I won’t leave you alone even for a moment.” Draco immediately drops his leg and pulls Harry into his chest.
“Hurts!” he hisses.
“I know, love. I know.” Gentle hands smooth his hair as he writhes, his body attempting to somehow alleviate the pain as fluid gushes from his body.
“Nice and clear.” Healer Powell’s voice penetrates the fog of pain. Someone must have vanished the fluid because the bed beneath him is suddenly dry again.
Harry sags as the wave of pain finally begins to subside.
“Don’t suppose,” he pants, “there's time to decide I don’t want to do this?” He’s crying openly into Draco’s shoulder and can’t even bring himself to care.
The Healer chuckles, but Draco strokes his hair.
“I know it’s hard, Harry; I’m so sorry, love. But it’ll be worth it.”
“For Regulus,” Harry reminds himself aloud.
“For Regulus,” Draco confirms. “For our son.”
Harry heaves a breath and nods. He can do this. And as soon as he does, they can meet their son.
“Let’s see where you are before the next one comes,” Healer Powell encourages gently.
Draco gently pulls his leg back again, and Harry gasps as the Healer’s fingers slide in.
“Your membrane is totally dilated and broken. You’re at about a 7 of 10 for your anal opening. You’ve really done a fantastic job labouring so long at home, you’re nearly there. I would bet you’ll have a baby within the next two hours.”
“I’m not sure I can do this for two more hours!”
“You won’t. You’ll be ready to push before then and it will give you something else to focus on. I’ll give you gentlemen some privacy. You can press the call button if you need someone. Otherwise, I’ll be back in a bit to see how you’re doing.”
No sooner does the Healer exit the room than Harry is wracked with another brutal contraction.
“Fuck! I need to stand!”
He can’t explain how or why he knows he needs to stand, but his body screams at him to be on his feet.
Draco immediately guides his legs off the bed and offers his body to Harry for support, shouldering his weight with no complaint. Standing helps, and so do Draco’s hands squeezing his hips together and their bodies swaying slowly back and forth.
“You’re doing so well, Harry. I’m so proud of you. I love you so much.” Draco’s steady stream of comfort and reassurance grounds him and gives him strength.
Harry suddenly feels Regulus shift and for a moment it feels as if that little body might burst out his spine. The pressure against his pelvis screams to new levels and suddenly he feels like his hips are being wedged forcibly apart.
“He’s moving. I can feel him moving.”
They rock until the contraction subsides and Harry sits on the edge of the bed. His whole body throbs with the aftermath of the intense tightening of his muscles and whatever — Regulus, he assumes — shifted so violently inside him. He knew labour would be difficult, but he was not prepared for the radiating pain from which there is no relief.
“He shifted somehow during that one, I think. It feels like he’s wedged in between my hips now. It’s like being split in two. This is awful.”
“I know, love. I wish I could take away your pain, but every single contraction brings us closer to meeting our son. I can’t wait to see Regulus in your arms.”
“Can we lay down? It might help more, now that he’s shifted.” The heaviness now burgeoning between his legs is almost worse than the pain.
After some careful manoeuvring, Harry is on his side and Draco is spooned against his back. Long, thin fingers rub his arms, his belly, his hips.
“Oh…here it comes. I’m gonna be split into pieces.” Harry groans as he feels the tightening begin. Draco’s arms come around him, holding him close.
“I’m right here. I’ll hold you together. You’re doing such a brilliant job, Harry. You’re so strong.”
Draco gently rocks them back and forth as Harry moans. The wedge from earlier feels like it’s being hammered into his hips and there’s an immense amount of pressure pushing down towards the base of his spine. He’s certain his hips are going to shatter. Guttural noises escape his mouth, unlike anything he’s ever heard before.
Being cradled against Draco’s firm chest anchors him, and being held by his husband’s strong but gentle hands reminds him that this baby, this product of his and Draco’s love, is making his way into the world and into their family.
“That’s it, Harry, deep breaths. You're doing so well.”
The wave crests and crashes, and Harry can breathe fully again.
“That helps; you holding me. But something’s different now that he’s shifted. I don’t know what happened. It’s just so much pressure.”
“Should I call the Healer?”
“Not yet. I don’t feel like I need to push, it’s just…there’s no way to ever be prepared for this. I can’t even describe it. Suddenly this little body I’ve kept safe for nine months…my body’s goal is to expel him at all costs. I know it’s how we get him into our arms, but it’s just…”
“It’s a lot, love. I hate seeing you in so much pain but you’re managing it so well. You’re doing so much better than I ever would. And there are no words to tell you what this means to me, for you to bring our son into the world.”
They navigate several more contractions in their newly-found position before Healer Powell returns.
“Do you feel like you’re making any progress?”
“He moved down between my hips, I think. It felt like he was about to come out through my spine.”
“Lots of pressure?”
“So much…”
“It sounds like he dropped to the canal. Let’s have a look.”
Healer Powell waves his wand and two oddly shaped supports appear on either side of the bed. Harry knows from his reading that he’s expected to put his calves in them, basically spreading his arse for display. They’re different than the ones for witches, in order to tip his pelvis for a better exit path for the baby.
Draco helps him shift, sitting behind him as a support, and Harry lays against him, legs in the supports, splayed open. Healer Powell slides his hand in and it takes all Harry’s self-control not to kick the man in the face. Everything is already so tender, so sore, he has no idea how he will manage to push a baby out.
“He’s right there, Harry. I can feel his head.” Healer Powell withdraws his hand and eases Harry’s legs back to the bed. “When your body tells you to push, I want you to push. As soon as that happens, press the call button so we can come set up for delivery. He’s almost here, gentlemen.”
Several contractions later, Harry has begun to wonder if Healer Powell was somehow mistaken, that perhaps he still had more labouring to do. But then there’s fire spreading in his groin, and burning, so much burning, and he’s bucking back against Draco and there is nothing in the world except a desire to bear down, to push their son from his body.
“I need to push. I need to push.”
“Push, then, love!”
He feels Draco shift and suddenly Healer Powell hurries in with two Mediwizards, but he ignores them all and closes his eyes, obeying his body and pushing down.
“He needs to push,” Draco reports to the Healer. The urge to push subsides, but the tightening of the contraction doesn’t. Harry gulps for air.
“Let’s get you back in the supports before the next wave, Harry. It’s time to meet your son.”
Hands guide his calves back into the air and Draco sits reclined in the bed behind him, Harry lying on his chest.
“You’re amazing, Harry. You’re birthing our son. Regulus is almost here. I’ve never been more in love with you than I am in this very moment.”
Harry opens his eyes long enough to see one Mediwizard on each side of him and Healer Powell between his legs, then the twisting in his gut intensifies and he needs to push again.
“Push, Harry! Push hard!” Healer Powell’s voice urges. Harry pushes, hard, until he gasps for breath. “That was excellent. He’s moving down. A few more pushes, and his head will be out.”
Harry bears down again, pushing against the bizarre sensation of feeling Regulus’ body sliding down inside his body. Gasping for breath, he hesitates.
I don’t want to do this. I can’t. I just want the pain to stop.
“Deep breath in and push, Harry!” A voice he doesn’t recognise is encouraging him, but he doesn’t care.
“Harry!” Draco’s voice is in his ear. “You have to push, love. Regulus needs his daddy to bring him fully into the world.”
I have to push. I have to push for Draco, for Regulus.
Harry gasps in a breath, tucks his chin to his chest, and shoves down with all his might.
“That’s it!” Healer Powell fairly crows. “He’ll be out in just a few more pushes if you go like that. Take a breath and go again as soon as you feel the urge!”
And he does. Harry pushes, and then there’s fire burning in his groin. He stops pushing as his body involuntarily screams in pain.
“He’s crowning, Harry. This is the worst of it. Push through it!”
“I love you so much, Harry. I’ve never been so proud of anyone in my life. Our son, Harry! He’s almost here!” Harry opens his eyes to look back at Draco. “Push, Harry. Let’s meet our son.”
Harry closes his eyes and when the next wave meets him, he pushes against it.
“That’s it! Take a breath. Breathe, just for a moment.”
Harry fights the intense desire to bear down and sucks in deep lung fulls of oxygen as he feels the Healer’s hands working at his opening.
“Give me your hand, Harry.”
Harry blindly offers his hand to the Mediwizard next to him, who guides his hand between his legs, placing it on something warm and wet and sticky.
“That’s your son. He’s right there.”
“Nearly done, Harry! Next contraction, a big push for his shoulders.”
Draco says nothing, but Harry tips his head back to see him weeping openly. Those emotions his husband works so hard to control around people he doesn’t know are on display. Harry opens his mouth to tell Draco how much he loves him, but the next wave of pressure overtakes him.
His vision goes black at the edges and the middle bursts with white stars. This contraction is more torturous than the rest. Harry arches his back and pushes. He pushes for Draco, the man who has loved him so fully; for Regulus, the product of that love; and for himself, to meet this child who is the blend of himself and his husband.
“Reach down, Harry!” Healer Powell’s voice breaks through the haze. “Reach down and deliver your son!
Harry reaches and the Mediwizards guide his hands beneath tiny arms and he pushes his son into the world, lifting him to his chest. There are no words for the relief that pulsates through his body. The pain rushes away and there is nothing in the world but him and Draco and their son.
“Oh, Harry. He’s perfect. He’s absolutely perfect.” Draco is awestruck. “Harry. You made him, grew him in your body. I love you so much.”
“I love you, too,” Harry replies without looking away from Regulus. He’s both of them, and it’s amazing. Strawberry blond wisps of hair look like they may end up being Harry’s curls and he has Harry's mouth, but he has Draco’s nose and chin. And only time will tell what colour his eyes will be.
“Regulus Etamin Potter.” Draco rolls the name over his tongue, words thick with emotion. “You certainly are our brightest star.”
Two hours later, Harry is propped up in bed with a small mountain of pillows, his husband next to him. Seeing Regulus in Draco’s arms fills him with an indescribable emotion.
He is exhausted and sore. His belly, swollen and squashy, no longer holds their son. He delivered the afterbirth and the Healing team spent a good amount of time with spells and salves to put his ravaged body back together, but it is still far from how it once was. Draco had helped him into the shower, where he wept, partially out of relief, partially out of pain, and partially out of just being overwhelmed.
Draco had washed him with gentle hands and helped him into clean clothes, and he’s at least feeling mostly human now. They’ve sent a text to Hermione, who has let them know she’ll be bringing the kids soon. But for now, it is Harry and Draco and their new-born son.
“I still can’t believe he’s here.” Draco’s fingers trace Regulus’ small features. “I’m so proud of you, Harry. You fought so hard to birth him. You handled it all so well.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you.” Harry studies the beautiful picture made of his husband holding their son. “Your support got me through it.”
There’s a shuffling in the hallway and a knock at the door to their room.
“Come in!” Draco calls, and the door bursts open, their children spilling into the room. Lily gasps the instant she spots Regulus.
“Oh! He’s so tiny!”
“He certainly didn’t feel tiny on the way out,” Harry quips at his daughter. “Come over here beside Draco, and you can hold your brother.”
Lily settles in the chair beside Draco, and Regulus is placed in her arms.
“Hi, Regulus! I’m your favourite sister!”
“You’re his only sister, you twit,” Albus retorts.
Scorpius snorts as the two boys move to stand beside Lily, both smiling down at Regulus.
Harry looks to James and Matthew, who are standing hand-in-hand on Harry's side of the bed.
“Are you doing all right, Dad?”
“I am, James. It’ll take me a while to recover. I’ll start the potions regimen to help tomorrow.”
“Was labour as bad as the books say?”
“Worse.” Harry laughs as his son turns a bit green at that declaration. “But worth it. Having a baby with a partner you love is worth an awful lot of pain and sacrifice.”
James smiles. “Someday, I hope.”
“You’ll get there. Don’t be in a hurry.”
“We’re not.”
James leans into Matthew who grins at him. Harry knows they’re young, but the more he’s been around the young couple this summer, the more he’s beginning to think they may be one of those rare couples who are Hogwarts’ sweethearts and go on to spend a happy life together. He hopes, fervently, they can be as happy as he is with Draco.
Harry looks over to see Scorpius cradling Regulus in his arms. He looks fit to burst, grinning down at his baby brother.
He settles back against his pillows and watches their children take turns holding their new brother. In some ways, starting over with parenting after twelve years is terrifying, but he wouldn’t trade his current life for anything. He never imagined life could look like this; loving husband, beautiful kids, and happier than he can ever remember being. Lacing his fingers through Draco’s, he squeezes lightly. His husband turns to look at him.
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
Twelve days later, Harry stands on an empty Platform 9 ¾, gazing at the place where the train had been, his five children waving as they pulled away, heading back to Hogwarts. The house will not be so quiet without them this year, though. A soft coo comes from the infant in his arms, and he smiles down at Regulus, who stares back at him with wide eyes.
Draco’s hand squeezes his hip gently, and he snuggles into his husband’s side.
“This is where it all started, one year ago.” Draco kisses his temple.
“It seems like so much longer and just yesterday, all at the same time.”
“I never imagined that asking you for tea would lead to all this.”
“I never imagined life could even look like this.” Harry looks down at their son again. “I never thought I could be this in love, or get pregnant and have a son with my wonderful husband. I’m happier than I’ve ever been. It was a long road to get here, but I wouldn’t trade our life for the world, Draco. This last year has had trials, but it’s been wonderful. I love you so much.”
“I love you, too, Harry. I still don’t know how I managed to get this lucky.”
“Life felt awfully cruel for a really long time, and I don’t know if it’s luck or fate or just the way things go, but I’m grateful for it, whatever it is. You, and Regulus, and our kids…this life is what my soul was too afraid to hope for.”
Draco holds him close, Regulus snuggled between them, for a long moment. Harry can’t help but think about how a year ago, everything was set in motion to grant him a fresh chance at love and something good, the second time around.