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Harry woke up and swiped hair out of his face. It wasn't his. He propped himself up on an elbow and scowled at his boyfriend. Draco slumbered peacefully on, oblivious to Harry's consternation. Harry's expression softened. Draco was quite sweet when he was sleeping. Any other time, he was a snarky git. Harry considered waking Draco up for some quality bonding, but he elected to let him sleep. Draco had been unusually tired of late. He blamed it on work, while Harry hoped he wasn't coming down with something.
Harry rolled carefully out of bed and stretched. He decided to entice his boyfriend with a great breakfast and then ravish him in the kitchen.
Harry was busy scrambling eggs in one skillet and frying bangers in another when Draco shuffled into the kitchen. His bleary eyes lit up.
"Mm, bangers and eggs?"
Harry grinned. Oh, yes, he was going to get laid after breakfast. "I know it's your favorite, and-"
"Urk."
Harry turned at the unexpected reaction. All he saw was Draco disappearing around the corner. Concerned, he turned off the fire under the skillets and trailed after his boyfriend. Harry heard the door to the half-bath slam shut, and he hovered uncertainly outside. He heard the unmistakable sound of Draco getting sick. Harry raised his hand to knock but thought better of it. He waited until he heard the toilet flush before returning to the kitchen. He had just put the food in the fridge when Draco came back.
"Are you feeling okay?" asked Harry.
Draco nodded and scrunched up his nose. "Those bangers smelled off," he said. "I hope you didn't eat any."
Harry was skeptical, but he knew better than to argue. "I'll bin them," he said. "Do you have time for something else?"
"I'll just have toast," Draco replied. "The smell of those bangers has left me queasy."
"I'll make you some toast," offered Harry, trying not to sound disappointed. It was clear there would be no shag this morning.
-
Draco was in better spirits when he left for his job at Gringott's, and he was no grouchier than usual when he returned. Harry, who crafted brooms in a workshop at the bottom of the garden, was hopeful of making up for the lack of sex that morning. Once Draco had changed out of his suit and tie in favor of jeans and a Weasley jumper, Harry greeted him with a kiss.
"Feeling better, love?"
"I am," Draco confirmed as he followed Harry into the kitchen. "Did you dispose of those nasty bangers?"
"Yeah," Harry replied with a nod. Eating them counted as disposal, right? He hadn't suffered any ill effects.
"Do you need any help with dinner?" asked Draco. Typically, he cooked on weekends, while Harry handled kitchen duty during the week. Each of them enjoyed cooking, but Harry liked to allow Draco to relax after toiling all day at Gringott's.
"No," Harry replied. "Why don't you go relax, and I'll let you know when dinner is ready?"
Draco acquiesced with a smile and left the kitchen.
Twenty minutes later, Harry levitated several dishes of food to the table in the dining room, along with plates, cutlery, and glasses. After setting the table, he went into the lounge. Harry was astonished to find that Draco was sound asleep on the sofa. He never took naps. Harry frowned and woke Draco with a gentle squeeze to his shoulder.
"Wake up, love. It's time for dinner."
Draco sat up and swept his hair away from his eyes. "I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't mean to fall asleep."
"Are you sure you feel okay?" asked Harry. "You were peaky this morning."
"I'm fine," Draco said as he stood up. "I've just been tired lately. I'm doing an audit on a difficult account, and it's been quite taxing."
Harry nodded in understanding and relief. "Come on, let's have dinner, and you can go to bed early."
-
Harry awoke the following morning to Draco moving restlessly. He reached out and grinned when his hand landed on Draco's thigh. "In the mood?" he asked in a husky voice.
Draco pushed his hand away. "I'm feeling queer again."
Harry sat up. Even without his glasses on, he could see the grimace on Draco's face. "Do you reckon you should schedule an appointment at St Mungo's?"
"No, I think some ginger tea will settle my stomach," Draco replied. He rolled out of bed and padded into the en suite.
Harry got up and used one of the guest bathrooms before going down to make tea. By the time Draco wandered into the kitchen, Harry was just removing the kettle from the stove. "Would you like something to eat?"
"I'm not hungry," Draco muttered, slumping into a chair. He accepted a cup of ginger tea with a nod of thanks. "I believe I ate too much last night," he said after his first sip. "Dinner was delightful, Harry, but I fear I overindulged."
Harry was mollified, although he wished Draco would have something other than tea for breakfast. "Don't forget we're having dinner with Padma and Theo this evening."
Draco smiled, seeming more himself. "I'm looking forward to it."
-
A sudden jostling alerted Harry that Draco was getting out of bed. He propped himself on his elbows and cocked his head. Sounds from the bathroom let him know that Draco was simply relieving himself. He heard the faucet run for a few moments, then Draco returned to bed. He curved into Harry and shivered.
"You feeling all right?"
"I simply had to pee, Harry."
"Yes, but you've been getting up in the middle of the night to do that quite often."
"I've been drinking copius amounts of tea," Draco explained. His words ended on a yawn.
"Ginger tea?"
"Shut it, Harry. I'm tired, and I want to sleep."
-
"Harry, if I wanted to listen to nagging, I'd ring Mum."
Harry bit back an angry retort. "It's just that I'd like you to have something more than tea and toast for breakfast." He was becoming alarmed at how little Draco ate in the mornings. Harry could only hope his boyfriend was having a more robust lunch during his work day.
"I said I'm not hungry!" Draco snapped.
Harry thumped a bowl of oatmeal in front of his boyfriend and scattered fresh blueberries, Draco's favorite, on top of it.
"Blueberries!" cried Draco, suddenly all sweetness and sunshine. He picked up his spoon and dove in.
Blinking in surprise, Harry tried to adjust to Draco's mercurial mood change. Draco had always been quick to anger but not so easy to appease. Harry resolved to stock up on blueberries. He prepared another bowl of oatmeal for himself and ate it plain. There was no sense in prodding Draco's temper by eating any of his beloved blueberries. Besides, Harry could always snack on some later, after Draco went to work.
-
Draco's mood was much improved when he came home that evening. They had a nice dinner and spent the rest of the evening relaxing in the lounge. Harry watched a film on the telly, while Draco sat at the opposite end of the sofa, reading a book. Their legs were tangled together, and Harry took the opportunity to engage in some flirtatious footsie. Draco was sending him heated looks, and Harry's entire body was thrumming with desire by the time they went up to bed.
As they got undressed, Draco grinned at Harry and said, "Don't bother with pyjamas."
Harry's cock throbbed its approval of Draco's edict, and he eagerly joined his boyfriend in bed. They came together slowly, taking time to kiss one another while their hands wandered over familiar planes. Harry moved his lips from Draco's and began stringing little kisses down Draco's neck to his shoulder. He feathered his fingers over his boyfriend's stomach and slid his hand higher. Harry encountered a stiff nipple and gave it a pinch.
"Ouch! That hurt, you cunt!" cried Draco, shoving Harry away from him.
Harry sat up, his mouth slack with surprise. "But, I didn't..." he started to say, then shut his mouth. He'd been about to protest that he hadn't tweaked Draco's nipple any harder than he normally did, and which Draco normally enjoyed, but Harry could tell the effort would be futile. He settled for apologizing. "I'm sorry," he said in a gruff voice. "I didn't mean to hurt you."
Draco huffed out an angry breath and flounced down on the bed. "I'm not in the mood any longer."
"I said I was sorry!"
"Go fuck yourself!"
-
By morning, Draco had migrated into Harry's arms. Harry woke up to a face full of blond hair. He hoped he could cajole Draco into a shag before breakfast. He kissed Draco's temple and rubbed his back.
"Mm," Draco hummed as he woke up slowly. He smiled at Harry before nudging Harry onto his back. "Want to ride you," he husked.
Harry was happy to oblige and equally happy to let Draco set the pace. Anything for sex. Draco moved to straddle him, but his sexy smile turned to a grimace. He scrambled off Harry and bolted for the en suite. Harry was left aching and confused. He sat up in time to hear Draco being sick. Lust fled in favor of concern. Harry clambered out of bed, stepped into a pair of pyjama bottoms, and grabbed Draco's robe. He had it ready when Draco plodded out of the loo.
"Thank you," Draco muttered, cinching the tie around his waist.
"Draco, maybe you should see a Healer," Harry suggested gently. "Your appetite is waning, and this isn't the first time you've been ill."
"I'm just tired," Draco insisted, brushing past Harry and exiting the bedroom.
-
Once his boyfriend had left for Gringott's, Harry eschewed his brooms and sat at the kitchen table while he pondered Draco's mysterious illness. The longer he thought about it, the more convinced Harry became that he had the answer. Draco was pregnant; he had to be. What other explanation could there be for morning sickness, a distaste for certain foods, cravings for others, sensitive nipples, and mood swings?
Harry's heart beat fast in excitement. A baby! They were going to have a baby. Well, he was almost certain that was the case. Harry only hoped Draco would be equally excited.
-
"That is quite possibly the most idiotic thing you've ever said, and that's saying something," Draco remarked that evening, when Harry broached the subject.
"It makes sense," Harry began, but Draco cut him off at the knees.
"I have not been taking fertility potions," he said. "Why would I? We haven't even discussed marriage, let alone starting a family."
"Blokes can get pregnant without taking a fertility potion," Harry pointed out reasonably.
"The odds of it happening without potions are infinitesimal!" Draco exclaimed. "Even you aren't so all-powerful as to impregnate me without the use of potions."
"But-"
"Harry, I am not pregnant, and that's that."
-
Harry had dropped the subject the night before, but the following day, while Draco was at work, he couldn't stop thinking about it. He decided to get an expert's opinion.
"Hello, Harry."
"Hermione, how are you?" asked Harry. They made small talk for five minutes until Harry plucked up the courage to get to the point.
"Hermione, what are the early symptoms of pregnancy?"
"You'll stop getting your monthly."
"I'm serious," Harry protested. His statement was met with a lengthy silence before Hermione spoke again.
"Harry, you're not..."
"No!" Harry cried, then again more calmly. "No, of course not. I'm, er, I'm asking for a friend."
"It's Malfoy, isn't it?"
Harry deflated with a sigh. "I think so," he muttered, "but when I asked him about it, he handed me my head."
"Have you been trying?"
"I reckon Draco thinks I've been trying. He certainly didn't mince any words last night."
Hermione giggled. "No, I meant have you been trying for a baby?"
"Oh," said Harry before chuckling a little himself. "No, neither of us has been taking potions or anything."
"In that case, it's highly unlikely he's pregnant."
"Yeah, that's what he said," Harry told her. "But, he has so many symptoms."
"Such as?"
Harry began to tick items off on his fingers, even though Hermione couldn't see him. "He gets sick two or three mornings a week, some foods turn him right off, he's moody...well, more so than usual, and his...ahem...his nipples are sensitive."
Hermione paused again before saying, "Those are compelling symptoms, Harry, but the only way to be sure is if he gets tested."
"He refuses to even consider it!" cried Harry, feeling at his wit's end.
"I don't know what else to tell you, Harry, except good luck. Also, be careful because another symptom of pregnancy in a witch or wizard is wonky magic."
Harry groaned and scrubbed a hand through his hair. "What does that mean?"
"Spells go awry. Powerful spells fizzle, while small magic explodes. I once used a Scourgify on a china platter, and it removed the decoration on it, as well as the food."
"Thanks for the advice," said Harry, mentally cringing at what could happen with Draco's magic.
-
On the weekend, Harry suggested having Blaise and Daphne Zabini over for dinner. He didn't particularly care for Draco's friends, but they had children, and he hoped that seeing the youngsters would trigger something in Draco.
Harry was coming to regret his decision when the two boys tore through the house and jumped on the furniture. They would halt their shenanigans when Blaise reprimanded them, only to turn around and get into more mischief. Daphne was occupied with the baby, and Harry noted with a sinking heart that Draco seemed to have little interest in the youngest Zabini.
One of the boys found a random Quaffle that Harry had forgotten they even owned, and he chucked it across the lounge at his brother. Draco inadvertantly stepped into the line of fire, but rather than bring a hand up to protect his face, he unexpectedly put his hands in front of his stomach. The Quaffle hit him harmlessly in the thigh, but Draco's temper reared its head.
"That is quite enough!" he growled, magic crackling around him.
The boys quailed and scampered over by their father, where Blaise berated them some more. He stood up and said, "Draco, Potter, it was good of you to invite us over. It's been an enjoyable evening, but I think it's time these two little hooligans went to bed."
"Aw, do we have to?" whined one as Blaise led them to the cupboard to fetch their coats.
"Draco, would you hold Blossom while I put on my coat?" asked Daphne, pressing the baby into Draco's arms without waiting for a response. She left the room, and Harry watched Draco. He appeared stunned, but then the baby smiled up at him, and Draco's face utterly transformed. It took Harry's breath away to see his boyfriend so transfixed. He couldn't wait to see Draco holding their own baby like that.
Daphne returned to the lounge, buttoning her coat on the way. She took little Blossom from Draco's arms, thanked him, and leaned in to kiss his cheek. Daphne waved at Harry and took her leave. As the door closed behind the Zabinis, Harry and Draco both collapsed on the sofa and sighed in unison. They then looked at one another and laughed.
"Why don't you go up to bed?" suggested Harry. "I'll clean this mess up." The lounge looked like an Erumpent had rampaged through it.
"I have a better idea," said Draco. "Let's both go up to bed, and we can clean up this disaster in the morning."
Harry recognized that gleam in Draco's eyes, and he wasn't about to argue. They went up to bed.
-
Draco didn't bother glancing up from the menu as he addressed their waitress. "And I'll have the cabernet to go with it."
"Draco!" Harry cried. "You can't have alcohol!"
The waitress, sensing a row in the making, wisely skived off.
Draco's eyes narrowed. "That's odd," he drawled. "You don't look like my Mum, and I don't believe I'm ten years old."
Harry gulped. They were entering dangerous territory here, and he was tempted to scarper off in the direction the waitress had gone. Thinking of Draco's delicate condition helped firm Harry's resolve. He had to protect his unborn baby, even if it meant incurring Draco's legendary wrath. Still, an instinct for self-preservation prompted him to attempt deflection.
"It's just that...er...I was hoping we could ride the London Eye, and you probably don't want to do that after drinking even one glass of wine."
"I am not setting foot on that death trap!" Draco exclaimed.
Harry was left genuinely puzzled. "Why not?" he asked. "We've ridden it before. You said it was almost like flying."
"That was before I..." Draco clamped his lips shut.
Intrigued, Harry leaned forward. "Before you...what?" He held his breath as he awaited his boyfriend's response. Was Draco willing to accept the reality of his situation?
"Before I decided it's not to my liking," Draco replied, voice prim and expression daring Harry to pursue the subject.
Harry was not so foolish. "Okay, we won't ride the Eye." Over Draco's shoulder, he saw their waitress approaching with his club soda and Draco's cabernet. Harry turned his Death Glare on her, and she pivoted and headed back to the kitchen. He hated to scare the poor girl, but his baby came first.
The waitress returned a few moments later, set Harry's soda in front of him, and a bottle of water along with a glass in front of Draco. "I'm sorry, sir," she said. "We were out of cabernet, but here's a bottle of Svalbarði, on the house."
While Draco beamed in delight, the waitress caught Harry's eye with a Death Glare of her own and mouthed, 'You're paying for it.'
He nodded and offered her a grim smile of gratitude. At least Svalbarði wasn't the most expensive water in the world.
-
Draco was exceptionally amorous that evening. After several minutes of enjoyable kissing, he nudged Harry's shoulder. "I want to top," he murmured.
Harry was surprised but not unpleasantly so. Draco didn't assert himself often, but Harry enjoyed it when he did. He turned onto his back, smiling in anticipation. Harry's happy expression turned to horror as Draco reached for the bedside table and came up with his wand, rather than the lube. Hermione's warning about magical mishaps had Harry slamming his legs together and scrabbling away using his elbows and heels.
Draco stared at him in shock. "What ever is the matter with you?!"
"N-nothing," Harry blurted. "It's...I just would prefer to be prepped manually. I, er, I love it when you...when you finger me."
"I don't think I can wait that long."
"Oh, um, in that case, let me do the honors," Harry babbled, snatching the wand from Draco's hand and performing the spell on himself. He grinned up at Draco like a nutter. "There, all ready now!"
Draco grabbed his wand back and eyed Harry with suspicion. "I don't think I'm in the mood any longer."
"What?! But-"
"You're acting like a mad man, Harry," said Draco. "However, I still want to shag you. Open wide."
-
Harry was jolted out of a sound sleep when Draco abruptly left the bed and scrambled for the en suite. Early morning light suffused the bedroom, and Harry fumbled for his glasses. He set them on the bridge of his nose just as the first, miserable sounds began emanating from the bathroom. Harry frowned and got up to shuffle to Draco's aid, wincing at the lingering ache that his boyfriend had pounded into him last night. By the time Harry opened the door, Draco was brushing his teeth. Harry leaned against the door jamb and looked on with concern.
"Draco, you need to see a Healer."
Draco spat in the sink before glaring at Harry. "You need to shut your gob."
Harry flung his hands in the air and stomped out.
-
While Draco was at work that day, Harry went out and bought a pregnancy test. He didn't know if it would work on a male wizard, but there was no harm in trying. Convincing Draco to use it would be the difficult part.
Harry waited until that evening. Dinner had been a mellow affair, after which clean-up was dealt with quickly and efficiently. Harry and Draco settled onto the sofa in the lounge to watch an old film on the telly. The more relaxed Draco became, the more tense Harry got. He was gearing up for battle, while Draco had no idea he was about to be ambushed.
Harry sifted his fingers through Draco's short blond hair, and his heart melted when Draco turned to smile at him. Harry hated to start this row, but it had to be done.
"Draco, you're pregnant."
Draco's lips twisted in a sneer and his eyes flashed. "No, I'm not!"
Harry continued petting his hair. "Hear me out," he said calmly. "You're exhibiting many of the symptoms, from morning sickness to sensitive nipples. Why, your stomach is even getting a little round."
Draco jerked away from his touch. "Take that back, arsehole!"
"It's okay," Harry soothed him. "I like it. However, the sooner you begin taking extra care with your health, the better it will be for the baby. Our baby."
"I. Am. Not. Pregnant."
Harry offered a placating smile. "Yes, you are."
Draco's temper was reaching dangerous levels. The lamp on the table next to him began to wobble as he snapped, "Prove it!"
Harry couldn't have asked for a better set-up. He opened the drawer of the table on his side of the sofa and produced the pregnancy test. "You can pee on this, and it will indicate if you're pregnant or not."
The lamp toppled over and Draco snarled, "You can shove it up your arse!"
-
After a restless night spent in one of the guest bedrooms, Harry trudged down the stairs, put the kettle on to boil, and slumped into a chair at the kitchen table. Draco came in as Harry was steeping himself a cup of tea. Draco helped himself to the tea, and Harry wordlessly got up to get himself another cup. He sat down at the table once more, wary eyes on his volatile boyfriend.
The silence stretched between them until Harry ventured to break it. "What would you like for breakfast?"
Draco seemed absorbed in stirring his tea. Finally, without looking up, he muttered, "I peed on your ruddy stick."
Harry's heart skipped a beat. He kept his voice even and asked, "What did it say?"
Draco pursed his lips. "It didn't say anything," he replied. "It just showed a...a cross."
Heart beating rapidly, Harry told him, "That's a positive sign. It means you're pregnant."
The stirring ceased abruptly. Draco's head remained bent, but there was tension in every line of his body. "I don't want to be pregnant," he said in a small voice.
Harry's stomach plummeted. He wanted to say something, anything, but his mouth had gone so dry he didn't think he could speak.
"It wasn't supposed to happen this way," Draco continued. "You were supposed to propose to me in some ridiculously romantic way, then we would get married in a ceremony for the ages, followed by a honeymoon in the tropics where we never left our hotel room and lived only on champagne, strawberries, and sex. Then, maybe five or ten years later, we would think about having a child." Draco finally looked up at Harry, his eyes filled with hurt and accusation. "Now it's all backwards, and it's all your fault!"
Harry's automatic response was to refute that it was not all his fault, but he caught himself in time. He wrapped his warm hands around Draco's cold ones. "I'm sorry, love," he murmured. "I didn't intend for it to happen...out of order, but I'm happy about it." Harry gave Draco's hands a gentle squeeze and tilted his head to look Draco in the eyes.
"Will you marry me, Draco Malfoy?"
Draco's lips twitched. "That wasn't very romantic."
"It was the best I could do for now," said Harry.
"You don't even have a ring."
"We can shop for a ring together," Harry insisted quickly. "I reckon you'd rather choose one for yourself than trust me not to cock it up."
"That's true," Draco admitted.
Harry's pulse quickened again. "Is that a yes?"
"Hm?"
"Are you agreeing to marry me?" asked Harry, his heart in his throat.
"I reckon we have to get married now," Draco grumbled.
Harry closed his eyes and strove for patience. "We do not have to get married because of this," he said. "However, I would prefer to be married before the baby is born."
Draco worried his lower lip. "You're not proposing just because I'm...because there's a baby?"
"Draco, I've always intended to marry you," Harry told him. "It just seemed that we had all the time in the world, and...well, to be honest, I was afraid of what a spectacle your mum and Molly would want to turn our wedding into."
"Not to mention Pansy and Granger."
Harry grimaced. "I hadn't even thought of them. But, since we're working with an abbreviated time frame here, none of them will be able to get too far out of control."
Draco responded with a small, sad smile, and Harry was instantly contrite.
"We can still have a big, social event if you like," he said quickly. "I just want you to be happy."
"No, you're right when you said the women in our life would take over and turn our wedding into a spectacle. I'd rather have something small and quiet. In fact, let's elope."
Harry's mouth fell open. "You're having me on."
Draco's shoulders went back, and his chin came up. "On the contrary, I am utterly serious. I'll arrange to take time off at Gringott's, we can shop for rings, skive off to the tropics, get married, and enjoy our honeymoon, even without champers."
Feeling giddy at the prospect, Harry laughed. "I'll buy you all the strawberries you want, and whipped cream too." The enormity of what they were about to embark on washed over him, and he sought to make sure they were on the same page. "You're sure about this? No regrets?"
"No, Harry, I am very sure."
A new concern occurred to Harry. "What if our friends and families murder us?"
Draco smirked at him. "No one will murder me," he stated. "I'm...I'm pregnant!"