Title: Beggars Would Ride
Author: eidheann_writes (eidheann)
Prompt: Prompt 116 prompted by appleling for the 2013 fest & used with permission.
Word Count: 37,800 total in 4 parts
Rating: NC-17
Contains: Non-explicit het, discussion of past miscarriage (not h/d), discussion of non-explicit domestic abuse (not h/d), infidelity (not h/d)
Disclaimer: Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.
Epilogue compliant?: Not really. Harry married Ginny right out of Hogwarts, Ron and Hermione got married as well. This takes a left turn well before the epilogue, however.
Who is pregnant?: Draco
Notes: Oh my god this fic. I spent more time than I care to admit wrestling with it in hopes of making it by the fest deadline. Huge thanks go to capitu for her unending patience, encouragement and support, firethesound for her ego-boosting cheers and flailings, and tryslora for stepping in last moment for the final push. I love you all so veryveryvery much.
Summary: Harry finds his comfortable life taking a turn he never expected when he becomes the father of Draco Malfoy's child.
1.
Evening was falling; the warm smells of a summer evening blowing in the open window caused the sheer curtain to wave in the darkened room. Outside, the quiet hum of insects slowly started to rise once again, recovering from the silence that followed the slam of the front door and hurried pop of Apparition.
Harry closed his eyes, leaning against the doorframe and let the feeling of the room overtake him. He knew it well: cream walls rose from a dark hardwood floor covered in bright yellow rag rugs handmade by Molly Weasley. Two windows stood opposite the door, each covered in a wispy, pale blue curtain, and a wooden rocking chair sat between them. To his left was a short dresser with a changing pad atop it. He knew the contents of the drawers as well as the room: dozens of rompers and jammies in blue and white, covered in Crups and Snitches. Bibs and diapers and tiny hats. Socks that just fit the top joint of his thumb. To his left was an oak crib, still covered with white sheets and a quilt in shades of blue and green and so soft he sometimes found himself burying his face in it.
Of course, that wasn't only due to the softness. The entire room was filled with a sense of waiting. It wasn't anticipation; there was loss, acute even seven years later. But for all that the quilt made when Ginny first discovered she was pregnant with a boy brought memories of blood and pain and the feeling that a piece of his heart had been cut from him could bring him to tears even now, the room itself felt like the evening. The comforting breeze, the quiet hum, the sense that now that Ginny had gone to the Burrow, everything was at peace. It was only waiting.
He pushed himself off the doorframe, crossing to the crib and tracing a seam of the quilt. "James Sirius. Jamie. Happy birthday." Pulling it from the crib, he made his way to the chair, collapsing onto it and beginning to rock. He brought the quilt to his face, inhaling the smell of clean laundry, imagining it contained a trace of the child it was made for: the child who had never felt the touch of anyone or anything. Once again, he buried his face, allowing the tears to fall. The warm breeze and quiet buzzing comforted him as always.
Some anniversaries held tighter than others.
He awoke to the feeling of someone shaking his shoulder. He blinked, disoriented, and then righted his glasses to look into Hermione's warm brown eyes. "I fell asleep."
The smile that answered him was small, not dispelling the sadness in her expression. "I wondered. You were late to dinner so I Floo'd over. Ginny arrived over an hour ago and said you would be right behind her."
He righted himself from his deep slump in the chair, pulling Hermione down to sit on his lap and hugging her tightly. "She knew I was up here when she left." His voice was muffled against her side and she wrapped an arm around his neck, ruffling his hair.
They sat in silence for a moment before Hermione took a breath, causing him to tense. "You know what I think about this. You can't look to a child to be the only thing keeping your marriage together. You should go back to Luna..."
"We did counseling, Hermione." He sat straighter in the chair so he could properly frown up at her. "We went to Luna for a year after the miscarriage. She told us that in a few years, after we had time to grieve, we should try again."
"I meant marriage counseling, not bereavement. You went to Luna for a completely different problem. Now you're trying to-"
"Hermione, stop. This is our decision."
The huff of impatience she gave to that brought a familiar twist of Hogwarts-nostalgia that lightened his expression in spite of himself. "I love you both. I just wish you would talk to each other."
"We talk every day-"
"Talk about Jamie! Talk about yourselves! Talk about something other than dinner or groceries! Statistics say over 60% of marriages don't survive the death of a child-"
"We're still together, Hermione. Our marriage has survived the past seven years- I don't see that changing. We just need kids. We both... more than anything..."
Hermione sighed, shaking her head. "You need to speak with Ginny about these things, Harry. You can't use a child in place of communication."
He nudged her from his lap, stretching briefly while she refolded the quilt. Finally with a sigh for her worried expression, he hugged her again. "Come on. You've done your duty and I'm fetched. We need to get to the Burrow before Molly burns the roast waiting on us."
He felt a swell of affection when she simply returned the quilt and allowed the subject change. "You shut your mouth, Harry Potter. Molly Weasley has never burnt a roast in her life."
"Oh, no, I forgot. That was you... At least you finally got the smell of smoke out of your kitchen."
Harry's laugh sounded forced to his own ears, but she simply rolled her eyes as she led the way downstairs and to the fireplace. "Keep laughing, hero boy, and I'll tell Molly what you said about last Christmas's trifle."
"I'd forgotten how vicious you could be." His smile this time was much more relaxed, the heaviness in his shoulders feeling just a bit lighter. He squeezed Hermione's arm gently, trusting her to read the thanks in the gesture, before reaching into the Floo pot. "The Burrow!"
The repeated meaningful glances Hermione levied at him through dinner made Harry glad she didn't know he and Ginny had an appointment the next morning to see a Healer. They'd been trying for nearly two years to have another child. A quick Ovvus Ovum before bed was part of Ginny's nighttime routine. The happy yellow glow that signaled ovulation meant sex; otherwise, they would brush their teeth, change into their pajamas, Harry would sometimes read, Ginny would brush her hair, and they'd eventually fall asleep after wishing each other a quiet goodnight.
It wasn't what he'd imagined marriage would be like, but they'd both grown up rather quickly when Ginny had miscarried early in their second year together. That first year had been hell. Six weeks in St. Mungo's while they attempted to stabilize Ginny and allow her to recover, followed by nearly six months of tests to try and determine what had gone wrong in the seventh month of an otherwise perfectly normal pregnancy.
The worst part was they'd never figured that out. The Healers said that sometimes things just happened like that, which didn't make it any easier.
It was nearly a year before Ginny could stand to let Harry touch her again, and another two after that before the beginning of her period didn't send her into a panic. On the whole, he felt that the sex two or three times per month thing was a small price to pay for the gentle routine they'd fallen into, where he wasn't left feeling like a monster whenever he attempted intimacy.
It was late when they returned home and he was almost relieved when there was no glow. He tried not to think about how long it had been since Ginny had initiated so much as a snog, and he crawled into bed cursing Hermione for rocking his comfortable world.
St. Mungo's Gorsemoor Wing for Expectant Witches and Wizards always caused his shoulders to tense and palms to sweat with the memory of alarms and frantic shouting. Ginny didn't look much better, pale-faced and tense-jawed as soon as the lift doors opened. At the Welcome Witch's direction, they followed the hallway to the left, passing numerous open doorways until they reached the one marked Alexander Lufkin.
He was held still by shock when his eyes immediately met tired-looking gray ones as soon as he entered the room.
"Hello Ginny, Harry." Luna's familiar singsong voice jerked him back to full awareness, and he took in the scene quickly. The room was familiar, most of the small waiting rooms were done in standard St. Mungo's green paint, with brownish carpeting, ugly chairs, and bland landscapes dotting the walls, and this one was no different. The only odd bit was two of the ugly chairs were filled with two people he would never expect to be sitting in an Obstetric Healer's waiting room, and even less so together.
However, he couldn't deny that Luna Lovegood was sitting, dressed in the pale blue robes of St. Mungo's Mind Healers, next to Draco Malfoy. Her expression was as placid as ever, despite Malfoy's obvious tension and apparent death-grip on her hand, and she tilted her head slightly, watching Ginny. "I'm sorry I've not been to the Friday night dinners recently. Father just returned from South America and I've been helping him coordinate his findings."
"Er, it's all right, Luna." Ginny's voice was as tight as her expression, and her obvious discomfort was enough to prompt him forward into the room and to the chair beside her. Malfoys had always been a sticky subject with her; her usual tendency to hold a grudge seemed to grow exponentially any time they were mentioned. Even in Azkaban, Lucius seemed to hold a special and active place of anger in her heart. The silence lingered, and he found his attention wandering between the still-closed door Healer Lufkin was presumably behind and the pair across the small waiting room.
The silence stretched unbearably. Part of him wished he could reach out to Ginny, to grasp her hand as Malfoy held Luna's, but felt almost afraid to move, as if doing so would cause something to happen. The four sat there in tense silence: Luna, holding Malfoy's hand but looking at nothing in that familiar way of hers; Malfoy, clutching Luna tightly, looking equal parts tense and worn, as if the slightest movement would cause him to shatter; Ginny, spine ramrod straight and staring at the Healer's door; and himself, torn between trying to break the mood, to take a gasp of air and break the suffocating feeling of the room, and trying to avoid the inevitable.
Harry was pondering the appeal of fleeing from St. Mungo's entirely when the door finally opened and the tall, elderly Healer stepped out. He paused, faded blue eyes blinking as he was suddenly the focus of all the awkward attention in the waiting room. Clearing his throat, he glanced at the scroll in his hands before turning to Malfoy. "Mr. Malfoy, the test is positive. Should you wish to... deal with the issue... you may see the Welcome Witch in our lobby for a referral to the hospital apothecary for an abortificant." Turning his attention back to the scroll, he ignored the way Malfoy seemed to curl up into himself, trembling like a leaf in high wind. "Otherwise, I'm certain Mind-Healer Lovegood can see to setting up further appointments."
Luna glared at Lufkin, before kneeling down in front of Draco, pulling his shaking figure into a loose embrace. Her words were mumbled and indistinguishable beyond their comforting sound. Harry's thoughts skidded to a halt, shocked by the Healer's actions, before the sound of a clearing throat brought him back and he realized Ginny had already left the waiting room and the Healer himself was waiting, an expectant expression on his face.
The visit with Healer Lufkin left a bad taste in his mouth in more ways than one. He felt off-balance, both from seeing Malfoy, whom he'd not seen and barely thought of since Hogwarts, and the Healer's egregious breach of trust to talk about what was obviously a painful and private matter in the middle of his waiting room.
A small part of him, a part he pushed down because he knew it was petty, was envious of Malfoy, as envious as he was confused. Healer Lufkin had run tests, commented there was no physical reason he and Ginny should be having problems, that sometimes these things just happened; and he cringed at the words echoing what they were told after the miscarriage, he didn't need to look to know Ginny had done as well.
Malfoy was different. Men didn't get pregnant without assistance. He knew there were potions; he'd seen them advertised in cheery posters on the Gorsemoor's walls. That Malfoy would intentionally become pregnant, and then have the gall to not want it.
The bright flash of rage he felt at that was surprising. He'd forgotten what it felt like; the feeling like fire twisting up his spine, hands clenched, jaw locked, skin feeling hot and too tight where it stretched across his face. He didn't like it. He liked his comfortable life with Ginny. Peaceful. Quiet. He'd gotten his fill of extreme emotions with the war, confirmed even more by the still-overwhelming feeling of loss when he thought about the empty nursery upstairs.
"Harry?" Ginny's expression was pensive as she regarded him from the doorway, eyes quickly noting his hands and flushed face. Cursing Malfoy in his head for distracting him from what was important, he attempted to rein in the anger, to focus on Ginny.
After a pause, allowing Harry to collect himself, Ginny stepped into the lounge and sat in her favorite chair, curling up into its worn brown cushions. "I want to talk to you about this... baby thing."
His mind darting quickly back to his conversation the previous evening with Hermione, he ignored the flutter of panic and carefully schooled his expression to something more neutral. "What about it?"
"Harry, I don't want to do this anymore." The bottom dropped out from his stomach at those words, and he was grateful Ginny stopped speaking to focus instead on the seam in the arm of the chair. His heart was pounding and the sound of it echoed over anything she might have said.
"Do... this?" Her eyes narrowed slightly at the hurt and bewilderment he knew was obvious in his voice but she kept her gaze resolutely on the chair. "But... I thought... We always wanted kids..."
"Kids, yes. But this isn't working between us. I'm tired of trying and... I don't want kids enough to spend another two months in St. Mungo's if something goes wrong."
"Nothing is going to go wrong, Gin! The Healers say-"
"They don't know what went wrong last time! I don't want to do it again!"
He simply stared at her a moment, feeling too ill to continue the conversation, to do anything to make it more real. He had no idea what to say and was uncertain he'd be able to get any words out past the strangled feeling in his throat.
"If you still want kids that badly, I... I was going to discuss a surrogate."
"Wa-was?"
"I've been thinking about this for a while. I don't think I want kids, not like you do."
"Gin-"
"I don't mean... I don't mean I don't want kids, I just... I don't want to have them. But I... I want you to be happy, Harry. And I know you need them."
"But you don't." He'd intended the words to come out a question, a plea, but he knew her well enough that he couldn't twist them into anything but a statement.
Ginny sighed, ignoring both his words and the way he had begun curling in on himself, reminiscent even in his own mind of Malfoy at the Healer's. "I was going to suggest we start looking for a surrogate, but a better situation came up."
"Better? What could make this better?"
Ginny finally looked up, meeting his gaze, her own hard with determination. "Malfoy."
"Malfoy?" His earlier anger sprang up and this time he welcomed it, welcomed the feeling of something, anything replacing the hollowness he'd been thrown to by this conversation. "What the fuck does Malfoy have to do with us?"
"He's pregnant and doesn't want it. He owes you a life debt. You own his child."
He stared at Ginny, mouth hanging open. It was a horrible idea; horrible and unethical and wrong. He knew what Hermione would say, could narrate her arguments even now; and what was more, he agreed with them. But Ginny was sitting there, determined not to take no for an answer. She was never willing to give ground on anything Malfoy-related. He couldn't say anything, too overwhelmed by the feeling of the situation spiraling quickly out of his control.
The next morning, he woke to the sound of the wireless blasting The Weird Sisters, hoping that the conversation the evening before was simply a bad dream. He sat slowly, noting the light coming around the bathroom door and sighed with relief that Ginny was already in the shower. He hurried out of bed, grimacing as he swished his wand to cast a Scourgify and was hurriedly stuffing his legs into his trousers when the sound of the shower stopped and the door opened.
Ginny frowned, pausing half in the white terry robe, water still visibly beading along her arm and breasts. "What in Merlin's name are you doing?"
"Er, work. Sorry, Gin, I forgot that I had reports that needed to be on Robards' desk by Monday morning." He scrubbed his hand through his hair and attempted his best contrite expression.
Ginny watched him a moment, and he tried to contain the sigh of relief and continued getting dressed at a more reasonable pace.
"On Sunday?" Ginny's expression was carefully neutral as she finished tying her robe before grabbing a towel for her hair. "You're a horrible liar. Also, you told Mum that you had finished all your files before leaving Friday and this was the first weekend you'd not need to go to the Ministry in three months."
He sighed. "Gin-"
"No, you aren't wiggling out of this just to avoid a conflict. We're going to Luna's today and telling her we're taking Malfoy's baby."
"We can't just take someone's baby!"
"He owes you a life debt. Claiming an unwanted child is perfectly within the grounds of acceptable payment!"
"It's a baby, not a... not a galleon or a cow or a... We don't even know that he doesn't want it!"
"Healer Lufkin-"
"Healer Lufkin is not what I'd call a shining example of the Healer's Code! He blabbed a patient's private business in front of us in his waiting room, for God's sake!"
"That doesn't make him wrong! I've never heard of him giving advice for terminating a pregnancy out of the blue before! Something Malfoy said must have indicated-"
"Then what if he's already ended it?"
"The hospital apothecary is closed for non-emergency prescriptions on the weekends. The earliest he'd be able to get the potion is Monday. That is tomorrow, in case you're having problems remembering days. That is why we need to visit Luna today. We need to get Malfoy's contact information from her before he has the chance to do anything stupid."
"So what? We just show up on Luna's doorstep, ask her to break patient confidentiality so we can take Malfoy's child away from him? You don't evenlike Malfoy! Why the hell do you want a mini-one in this house?"
Ginny threw her towel at him, the wet cloth hitting him square in the chest with a slap. "I don't want to think of a child growing up with that family! You know what they're like, what they're willing to do to get ahead, even if you did save his sorry arse from Azkaban!"
He dropped his head into his hands and sighed, knowing he didn't have the energy to fight her anymore on this. "Narcissa saved my life. If she hadn't lied..."
Ginny's glare was triumphant. "Exactly. A life debt. You kept her and that pathetic arse Malfoy out of Azkaban, where they all deserved to rot. So now you're going to raise that child. I think they get the better end of the deal on both."
"Gin—"
Ginny's voice dropped, quiet and determined. "You've seen what the Malfoys can do, Harry. Yes, Narcissa was devoted to Draco, but look at all they're willing to sacrifice to get what they want. They don't care about anyone but themselves, no matter who it hurts. All through Hogwarts, if anything bad happened to any of us, it was almost always Draco or his fucking father behind it. And what didn't start with them, they made worse. I don't want to think about another child ever having to experience what I went through in my first year at Hogwarts, or what you went through because of Lucius fucking Malfoy."
"I don't—"
"We are going to Luna's, Harry. We are getting Draco's address and we are saving that baby from being raised with that kind of influence."
They were on Luna's doorstep shortly after ten. He'd always liked Luna's house, a small cozy cottage covered in a riot of plant life of dubious origins and personality, much of it gifted from Neville. Sidestepping the pots of fanged geraniums lining the stoop, Harry knocked on the purple door and sighed. "It's not too late to not do this, Ginny."
Ginny's stubborn expression became more set when his attention was pulled to the opening of the door. He was shocked to see a rumpled-looking Malfoy standing there in pajamas, his expression shifting from exhaustion to wariness in an eye blink. "Good morning?"
"Oh, good, Malfoy. You're here. We came to see Luna but this makes things much easier." Ginny's expression matched the briskness of her tone, and she pushed the door open further, causing Malfoy to stumble back a step as she pushed her way inside. "Luna! Good morning!"
There was a moment when Harry wondered if Malfoy would simply shove Ginny back out the door, along with the thought, quickly suppressed, that she would deserve it, before his shoulders dropped and he turned and made his way in the direction of the sitting room. Harry hesitantly followed Ginny inside, closing the door behind him as Luna's face emerged coming up the stairway in the back. He knew her private office was down there, as well as her bedroom, but he'd not been on the lower floor since he and Ginny had seen her after the miscarriage.
She didn't seem surprised that they had barged into her house on a Sunday morning, simply offering them a smile. "Good morning. Hermione owled me to say the two of you might be coming to visit me soon, but I really didn't expect it to be this morning. Would you like some tea?"
Ginny's expression immediately filled with confusion. "Hermione-?"
Harry quickly interrupted her. "Tea would be lovely, thank you."
Luna's gaze wandered between them briefly, a small furrow appearing between her eyebrows before she nodded. "I would invite you to the lounge, but Draco is sleeping on my sofa and I'd hate to kick him out. We can talk in the kitchen or in my office if you'd rather?"
Hearing Malfoy's name seemed to refocus Ginny's attention, the confusion falling away in a heartbeat. "We actually wanted to talk to you about Malfoy."
Luna's frown was faint and she shook her head. "Draco is a patient, I can't tell you anything about him."
Ginny's hand sliced down briefly. "With Malfoy, rather. We wanted to talk to him but you were the only one we knew who would be able to tell us where to find him."
"Talk to me about what?" Harry's head snapped around quickly enough he felt his neck twinge. Malfoy stood in the doorway, and had obviously righted his appearance; his robes, though the same ones he wore to St. Mungo's, he noted, were unwrinkled and his hair was smooth.
He had a moment to wish Ginny would just shut up, say she was joking and they were there for a friendly tea with Luna when she spoke. "Your pregnancy."
Malfoy's expression filled with shock, and his hands jerked toward his stomach before he paused and stiffened. "I fail to see how that is any of your business."
"You don't want it. We want to adopt."
Harry focused his gaze on Luna, trying to ignore the sick feeling in his stomach. This was a bad idea. A horrible idea. He just couldn't open his mouth and stop it.
"I don't-?"
"You owe Harry a life debt. We'll take the child in payment."
"Ginny, no-" Luna's eyes had gone wide at the words, and she stepped forward, her hand raised.
"Ah. No, it's all right, Luna." Malfoy's voice sounded choked and filled with an emotion Harry couldn't place. "Is that what you want, Potter? Marriage doesn't actually grant the ability for spouses to claim life debts unless the holder is deceased."
Harry closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath around the feeling of bile in the back of his throat. When he opened his eyes, he was the focus of everyone in the room. Luna's expression had fallen away, revealing nothing in the manner he was familiar with from their sessions. Ginny's face was set, eyes staring into his, full of determination he was uncertain he could break. Malfoy was obviously attempting to keep his emotions in check, but was wound tighter than a spring and almost trembling with it. He turned back to Ginny, shutting out Malfoy's almost pleading expression and another wave of nausea.
"Ginny... We want a child. Ginny can't... after the miscarriage."
There was another pause, and he felt a brief spark of gratitude to Malfoy for breaking it before he started babbling again to fill the silence. "I see. Very well."
"Draco-"
"It is his right, as holder of the debt. A... a fair exchange, life for life." Malfoy's trembling became more pronounced as he kept his attention focused entirely on Luna. "Will you be our bonder?"
Luna sighed, before pulling out her wand and giving Harry and Ginny an almost Dumbledore-like look of disappointment. "Very well."
Malfoy knelt on the rug in Luna's entryway and extended his trembling right hand. "Your hand, Potter."
"Malfoy—"
Malfoy's voice was forced through the tight clench of his jaw. "Your hand, Potter."
Harry shot a look at Luna, trying to convey helplessness and apology at once. He wanted this to stop, for time to just pause long enough for him to speak, to breathe. He wanted a child, wanted a family, but...
But she didn't stop; she just glanced once at Ginny before turning her attention back to Harry with a sigh. "Kneel on the floor and take Draco's hand, please." Luna's voice was quiet, but her expression turned thoughtful as he followed her instruction.
"Repeat after me please, Harry." Luna pressed the tip of her wand to their joined hands. "Will you, Draco Abraxas Malfoy, promise to give your child to me, Harry James Potter?"
Harry's voice came out a croak when he repeated Luna's words. "Will you, Draco Abraxas Malfoy, promise to give your child to me, Harry James Potter?"
"I will."
He winced at the quick flash of red before a line of red bound their hands together at Malfoy's words, but Luna pressed on. "Will you swear to do all in your power to preserve your life and health, and those of your child?"
Again, Harry repeated Luna's words, bewildered at her specific instructions requiring Malfoy to care for himself. Malfoy's lips twitched slightly into something that could have once been a familiar smirk had there been any other life in his expression before he again repeated "I will," and a second red mark snaked around the first.
Luna's wand tip dug sharply into Harry's hand, jerking his attention back to her as she laid out the final term. "Will you allow me to provide you all support and aid you require through your pregnancy and until such time as the child is given into my care?"
Ignoring Ginny's protest, Harry again repeated the words, not wanting to think about the sense of relief that came with them, easing some of the guilt twisting in his stomach. Instead, he tightened his grip on Malfoy's hand and met his gaze for the first time since the start of the binding. Malfoy seemed to study his expression, ignoring Ginny's continued arguments to Luna. Harry found he couldn't focus on them, either. Something about the binding made the sounds around them seem muted, and the feeling of being held somewhere apart grew stronger the longer Malfoy's silence stretched.
Finally, he gave a weak "I will," and the world snapped back into focus. The red flash was brighter this time, fading to a lingering tingle around his wrist. Malfoy dropped Harry's hand immediately, fleeing to Luna's bathroom and slamming the door behind him. Harry lightly traced the three faint red marks remaining where the spell had bound them. He was aware of Ginny and Luna arguing quietly; Ginny's voice the exasperated huff he was so used to, and Luna's firm and without it's normal melodic quality, but didn't feel compelled to step in the middle of it. Or pay attention to it. He knew he'd be hearing it for the next nine months.
He continued kneeling there, rubbing the lines, wondering if he'd made the right decision. He hadn't felt this powerless since fifth year, knowing plans were being made around him, about him, but no one would listen or even allow him to speak. He was angry at Malfoy, angry at Luna, angry at Ginny. The entire thing had happened so quickly; he was only now processing what he had agreed to. When he hit the point of wishing for a Time-Turner, he sighed, knowing he was really only angry with himself. He'd let himself be pushed into this position, and forced it on Luna and Malfoy as well. The guilt began to flare again.
"Harry?" He blinked at Luna, before glancing around at the otherwise empty hall. "You seem to have fallen under the charm of some Wrackspurts. Ginny went home. Would you have a cup of tea with me before you follow?"
Her expression didn't allow for refusal, so he nodded, following her to the kitchen. She pulled a chair, gesturing him into it as she heated the kettle with a distracted wave of her wand. She watched him, and he shrunk deeper and deeper into his slouch until the tea was finally steeped and poured and she broke the silence. "I am very unhappy right now, Harry."
"That makes two of us..." Harry's mutter wasn't really intended to be heard, but he found himself trapped again by Luna's focused attention. He bit his lip, but the urge to confess to Luna was overwhelming, as it always seemed to be. Before he knew it, the words were tumbling out in a rush. "It's just... Last night she tells me she doesn't want to have kids. I mean have kids. She's okay raising them; she wants them that way, but... And then all of a sudden she's talking about Malfoy and the life debt and I thought we were going to talk about things today and then there was the Oath and... And why when we've been trying for two bloody years to get pregnant again does she decide to tell me this now?"
Luna sighed quietly and nudged the mug of tea closer to Harry. "That is something only Ginny can answer. You should speak with her."
"Too late now."
"Why do you say that?"
"Oh, I don't know... The Unbreakable Vow?"
Luna shook her head. "You need to speak with Ginny in general. You assumed she still wanted to bear your children. She assumed you wanted children enough to force Draco using the life debt. What other things can you both be mistaken about?"
He grimaced, covering it with a long sip of tea.
"Are you happy, Harry?"
"Do I look happy?"
"I know that's sarcasm, but I'm going to answer anyway. No. You don't look happy."
"How is Malfoy?"
Luna shook her head. "You should speak with Draco as well. And that's a rather poor attempt at changing the subject."
Harry groaned and let his forehead hit the wood of Luna's table with a thunk. He looked back up at her amused expression and tried again. "Do you have a listing of his appointment times? Since I'm supposed to be providing him support." He tapped one of the red lines on his wrist.
"How much do you want children, Harry?"
He rocked back in his seat, shocked by the question. "What?"
Luna sipped her tea before continuing. "Do you want them enough to stay with someone who doesn't want to bear children herself? Do you want them enough to claim a life debt to get them?"
"What are you talking about? I've done-"
Shaking her head, she put her mug down and continued. "I'm not asking what you have done, Harry. We've already established you regret it and allowed yourself to be placed in the position by not having time to process things before it felt too late. I'm asking what you would do. What do youwant, Harry?"
He sighed. "I don't know."
She nodded at that, seemingly unsurprised. "I'll give you the list of Draco's appointments. He'd normally be seeing a Healer monthly for the first half of the pregnancy, but his is a rather unusual case, so he's going every two weeks."
"Unusual how?"
Luna handed a scroll across to him before ignoring his question. "I'd like you to think about that, Harry. Think about what you actually want, not just what you have. I'd also like to see you here to speak with me this week for tea, and we can work out a schedule of our own. I think we should spend some time working with you before we pull Ginny or anyone else in."
"Luna-"
"Or you can contact Ellie to determine when best would suit. It was lovely to see you again, and I should be in a position to rejoin the Friday dinners in a couple more weeks. Father really did make some brilliant discoveries. We're setting up a special edition to run at the end of the month just to cover his trip."
"That's... brilliant, Luna."
Luna gave him a quick hug. "Thank you for coming to visit me. I'll see you in a few days."
Harry considered, only briefly, returning home when he was once again on the other side of Luna's purple door. Also discarded was a visit to the Burrow. He was feeling overwhelmed, and spending his Sunday afternoon with the Weasleys seemed to be the least helpful thing he could think of. He also wanted to be certain he'd tamped down the resentment still simmering in his gut before he faced his wife and risked it spilling over.
There were already enough arguments looming. That thought caused his stomach to roll in a different and worse way.
He finally decided in favor of a trip to the Ministry. He'd finished his files, yes, but he was certain he could find something to do, even if it meant organizing his desk. And at the least, he could shut his door, cast locking and privacy wards, and pretend the rest of the world didn't exist. Or pretend the rest of the world didn't know he existed. Or where he existed.
That decided him, and his dash to his office took only a bit longer than his apparition to the Atrium, spotted only by the pair of half-asleep Aurors stuck manning the Floo banks.
He found himself at a loss once he'd gotten the door closed and warded behind him. He'd been excited about the weekend when he'd rushed through his files Friday afternoon. He'd hoped for good news from the Healer, maybe a potion or two, and possibly sex. Now everything was different. Two days. Less than 48 hours. Now he was not only never having babies with Ginny, but apparently having Malfoy's instead.
His hand clenched in time with his jaw, and he was startled by the sound of crumpling parchment. He glanced down; surprised he still had the scroll from Luna in his hand. Opening it, he noted she was correct: Malfoy had appointments at the Gorsemoor Wing, though none with Lufkin, every two weeks for the next four months, where they moved to weekly.
He remembered enough from Ginny to know that was unusual. Their Healers had them in once a month for six, and Molly told them that for any pregnancies beyond that, they'd likely go in even less often.
He wondered again at the "unusual case" Luna mentioned. Pocketing the scroll, he grabbed a file requisition form and scrawled Draco Malfoy across the top.
"Where have you been?" He hadn't even made it out of the Floo before Ginny's voice broke across his feeling of calm.
"Office."
Her arms crossed and jaw set. "You already said you'd finished your files."
"I organized my desk." He slapped ash from his arms and returned her glare. He hadn't wanted a fight, but it seemed unavoidable now. His earlier calm left him entirely, once again overwhelmed by his earlier frustration.
"You organized your desk? For two hours? You expect me to believe that?"
"You can believe what you want. I needed some bloody time to think after all this. So I fucking locked myself in the office and organized my desk. Byers and Everett are on Floo duty; they saw me go in, they saw me leave. You can fucking ask them if you think I'm doing whatever the hell it is you think I'm doing."
The anger melted from Ginny's face at his words, twisting to something that looked more like guilt. "Harry, I'm sorry. I'm sorry about last night, about springing that on you. I should have- I was afraid. You want children so much..."
"Afraid of what? I love you."
"And that's not going to change because I'm not having your kids? Because we're having to turn to Malfoy of all people?"
"We could adopt. You could have told me before we started trying again..."
"You wanted it so badly. I thought you'd leave me." Ginny stepped into him, curling her arms around his waist and burrowing into his chest. "I just want everything to be perfect for you."
Harry sighed, wrapping his arms around her and rubbing her shoulders gently. His earlier frustration was beginning to fall away, leaving him with the beginnings of guilt for snapping at her. "I'm not going to leave."
She smiled up at him, lightly tracing his cheek, argument apparently forgotten. "Good. Mum sent over some treacle tart after lunch. Why don't I spoil you with some for tea?"
He nodded. "That sounds good. Thanks."
Harry arrived a bit late to work the next morning, rushing directly from the lifts to the conference room for the weekly Monday meeting, wearing the happy glow of the recently shagged. He wasn't going to think about what had occurred to him late in his afternoon purge of his desk: that Malfoy obviously intended to keep the child since he'd made a full set of appointments. The entire situation caused the feeling of helpless guilt to twist in his stomach, and he wasn't going to let himself think about anything to ruin the afterglow. The feeling was too rare, and he knew it would pass soon enough anyway.
His mood survived an hour's worth of Robards' droning, followed by another filled with reports all stating that everything was well, and no emergencies came up over the weekend. He whistled on his way to his office, where he saw a file and a scroll sitting in the center of his otherwise spotless desk.
He reached for the scroll first, a spike of fear going through him when he saw the crest for St. Mungo's on the seal. He shook his head and laughed to himself when he recognized Ellie Branston's handwriting, informing him of his appointment with Luna the next morning.
The file beneath was more surprising. Red, with the black bars top and bottom denoting former or suspected Death Eaters, he hadn't expected Malfoy's file to be on his desk until at least Wednesday. Any file appearing within 24 hours when requested on a Sunday could only be in active circulation, which meant Malfoy was involved in a current investigation.
He cursed under his breath, good mood fading, as he took his seat and flipped open the file.
For the most part, the file was as he expected. It logged the minutes of Malfoy's trial before the Wizengamot after the Battle of Hogwarts and contained several copies of the official verdict, all in triplicate. Above that, hundreds of pages marked "all clear" and signed by Winslow Savage, Malfoy's probation officer, spanned the next five years. Then nothing. Malfoy was an apparently law-abiding and productive member of society.
The odd part came recently. The file had been pulled by Gustaf Proudfoot in relation to the upcoming trial of Miles Bletchley. It took Harry a moment to recall the case in question, until he remembered the morning meeting three weeks ago. Bletchley had been arrested and remanded to Azkaban to await trial for assault and battery, possession of controlled potions, and attempted homicide.
In the meeting, it had seemed fairly straightforward; the bad guy was off the street, Aurors saved the day, nothing to think twice about. It wasn't his case, so he didn't have the particulars. The only reason he remembered the name at all was because Bletchley had been on the Slytherin Quidditch team his first few years at Hogwarts. Now, knowing its connection to Malfoy and his current condition, a sick feeling grew in his stomach. He could piece the facts together, his current knowledge making the details obvious. The controlled potion was likely a fertility draught. The assault and battery charge was open ended: it could be anything from punching Malfoy in a fight, to slipping him the potion unawares, or even rape. He didn't want to think about the attempted homicide, especially if Bletchley knew Malfoy was pregnant. No wonder Malfoy was staying with his Mind Healer.
And Harry had just taken his baby away. He tried out the idea that Malfoy would be happy to be rid of the reminder. Or relieved. It didn't work. "Fuck."
The sound of his head hitting the desk distracted him from the knocking at his door, so he jumped a foot when he heard Hermione's voice. "Rough Monday?"
He ignored her laughter and grimaced, balling up the nearest piece of parchment and throwing it at her. "It is now. Thanks for that. You do know it's still murder if you give me a heart attack as if you cast an Unforgivable."
Glancing at the parchment, she smiled when she noted the crest. "You've an appointment with Luna. Good, I didn't think you would."
"Luna rather insisted." He smiled faintly as Hermione made her way to the chair on the other side of his desk and sat down. "Is that what you came in for? Bully me into an appointment with Luna?"
She made a noncommittal sound as she dropped the parchment back on his desk, and then leaned forward to shamelessly peer at the file in front of him. "Drac- Harry. Please tell me you're not obsessing about Malfoy again."
"What? No!" He resisted the urge to cover the file with his arms, knowing it would make him look guilty. And he wasn't. "How do you know this isn't for a case?"
Hermione gave him the look he'd seen a lot back in sixth year. "Because Robards isn't dumb enough to let you within shouting distance of any case involving Draco Malfoy."
He sighed. This was not a conversation he wanted to have with Hermione ever, but he recognized her mulish expression well enough to know he wasn't going to get out of it. He only wished Ginny was here to share the blame. "Get the door, it's not what you think."
"Oh, Harry..." Harry kept his attention on the edge of the file, running his thumbnail along the fold while he avoided the disappointed look he knewwas on Hermione's face right at that moment.
"You don't need to say it. I know what you're thinking and I agree-"
"Then why did you do something like that?" Peeking up, he was relieved she seemed more generally upset than upset-at-Harry upset.
He scrubbed his hand through his hair. "What was I supposed to do? It was side with my wife or side with Malfoy. I didn't know any of this until... well..." He gestured to the file on his desk, shrugging helplessly. "I don't know what I could have done."
"Talked to Luna? Said no to Ginny?"
"I'm talking to Luna tomorrow. And I tried to talk to Ginny."
Hermione's frown was fierce. "Talked to her? Or tried to sidestep and avoid the issue in hopes it went away?"
He opened his mouth to try and retort, but couldn't. Hermione knew him too well to let him get by with a lie. The guilt twisted harder when he realized he hadn't really tried to stop Ginny, he was just so used to going along with her because it was easier than having another argument. Finally, he sighed. "I fucked up. I've known it since before it even happened. I just don't know what to do about it."
There was silence, and then he felt the familiar grasp of Hermione's small, cool hand in his. "Talk to Luna. Malfoy as well. They may have ideas how best to mitigate the damage. And for heaven's sake, talk to Ginny about this! I can't believe she ever thought this would be a reasonable idea. I'll look into Life Debts and Unbreakable Vows. Owl me with what Luna or Malfoy say and I'll see what I can do."
He nodded, already sitting straighter with relief. If anyone was going to figure how to fix this mess, it would be Hermione. "Thanks, Hermione."
She nodded, her expression already firmly set in the mix of curiosity and stubbornness she always seemed to wear when facing a problem. "Owl me. I mean it. And... I'm not going to tell Ron about this yet. I don't know what he'd think was worse: you having a Malfoy for a baby or you trying to give it back."
"Keeping it. Definitely. I'm just going to point out it was his sister's idea."
Hermione's lips tilted into a faint smile as she stood with a stretch. "I still can't... Ugh. It's like she's reverted to a spoiled little child..." She flapped her arms, as if shaking off the thought. "You do that. I'll get to work on this. You've things to do as well."
"Yeah." He grimaced at his empty in-tray; he had no real work to distract him from this.
"I mean it." Her finger jabbed in his direction. "I'll help, but I'm not doing this for you. Remember, this is your mess. One of you needs to be a reasonable adult."
As she turned and left his office, he made a mental note to never tell her how much she reminded him of McGonagall in that moment.
His intentions were good, but a report of a handful of kids dabbling with Muggle baiting came in shortly after Hermione left. Harry found himself Apparating from one end of London and back several times dealing with Confunded Muggles until he was panting with exhaustion and his temper was shot. The half-dozen kids seemed to find it hilarious that they'd tied up a good quarter of the Auror force for the better part of the afternoon, and Harry was glad at the end he wasn't on the arresting force. He was worried he'd accidentally do something which would merit an Auror Brutality strike on his record. By the time he'd waded through the initial round of paperwork, he was an hour late home, and his head was throbbing in time with his stomach's growling.
The Floo deposited him in a grumpy pile on the hearth. Ginny took one look at his face, closed her mouth on whatever she was going to say and instead offered him a butterbeer. After downing it in four gulps, he dragged himself upstairs to exchange his heavy red woolen robes for a pair of comfortable pajama pants.
"Lucky it's stew tonight." He glanced over his shoulder and saw Ginny had followed him upstairs and was leaning against the bedroom door. He gave a weak smile to which she responded with a sigh. "I know crime waits for no man and all that, but I've told you that if you're going to be late, you should Floo or owl."
"Sorry, I got bogged down in a bunch of paperwork. Stupid kids spent the afternoon Muggle baiting their way across London. Didn't mean to make you worry."
"I'm not worried." She crossed her arms and straightened with a frown. "Merlin knows after Voldemort, a handful of teenagers aren't going to take you out. But if you made me burn dinner, I may have."
He attempted a smile and she turned and went back downstairs. Hearing the sounds of cabinets and drawers from the kitchen, he grabbed a t-shirt and allowed himself to collapse onto the bed. Burying his head in his hands, he spent a moment wishing she hadn't actually meant that.
"Morning, Harry!" Ellie Branston smiled up at him from behind a desk already piled with neat stacks of files and parchment. "Luna won't be a minute, if you want to go on in." She waved her quill over her shoulder, indicating the mostly-closed door behind her.
"Cheers. Brought coffee for you." He laughed at Ellie's grabby-hands and placed the steaming cup on her desk.
"I should hex you for getting me addicted to this Muggle shite, but chocolate and coffee together are just too good." She took a deep sip, eyes closing in an overly dramatic expression of bliss. "Too good. Thanks, Harry."
He gave Ellie a playful salute and wandered into Luna's office, collapsing onto an overstuffed wingback with a sigh. He liked this room; it felt like Luna. Each wall was painted a different color with none of the St. Mungo's green in sight, and each clashing in a manner that managed to convey exuberance without being painful. There were three comfortable chairs, none of them matching, as well as a pair of poufs, which he'd bet Luna occasionally used for office-hours naps. There was a small writing desk under the window, with a rigid oak chair beside, but he'd never seen Luna use either as anything but storage. Currently, the desk held a large bowl of plums and the chair was home to a terracotta pot of Quietly Honking Daffodils.
He'd been lulled into a peaceful half-doze by the soft trumpeting of Luna's flowers when he heard her greeting Ellie outside, and straightened in the chair in time to give a groggy smile in response to her quiet "Hello Harry."
Luna closed the door and settled into another of the chairs, kicking her feet up on a pouf, and smiled warmly. "I would say you're looking well, but I think you skipped sleeping last night if you're falling asleep in my office."
He gave a weak chuckle in response. "Not entirely accurate, but close enough. I really am sorry about all this, Luna."
"I forgive you. Thank you. But I'm not the only person involved in this."
Harry sighed. "I know, I know. I'll talk to Malfoy. I just don't know..." He trailed off, fisting his hands before he could start flailing.
"You don't know what to say because your time in Hogwarts taught you many things, but not how to communicate with Draco." Luna smiled and leaned forward, before whispering conspiratorially. "He didn't learn how to talk to you, either. So you're on even footing."
He laughed weakly. "I am trying."
She nodded. "Trying to still wrap your mind around it, yes. But Hermione will help with that."
"She's spoken with you already?"
Luna's laugh was loud. "We are speaking of the same Hermione Granger, yes? She owled me last night asking for details of the Vow. I'm meeting her for lunch this weekend."
Harry nodded. "I'm supposed to go with Malfoy to his... appointments, right? He's staying with you permanently, then?"
"No." Luna's answer caught him off-guard, but she gave no sign she noticed, instead crossing to the door and opening it, and retrieving the teapot and a pair of mugs Ellie had placed on the edge of her desk.
"What do you mean? He's... Not the Manor..."
"Oh, I'm sorry." She turned and smiled at him before returning to the tea. "He's staying with me, yes, but not permanently. But he will be for at least another month, so you can speak with him about arranging a schedule."
"Schedule? But I have a listing of his appointments-"
Luna's headshake quieted him, and her words were soft, but firm. "You know you vowed more than simply escorting him to and from St. Mungo's, Harry."
He grimaced. "Ginny's already upset with the amount of time I spend at work."
Luna handed him a mug and kissed his forehead. "You weren't always afraid of Ginny."
"Oh, come off it. I've always been rubbish at talking to girls."
She smiled and shook her head before returning to her chair. "You're doing fine with me. You did very well with Hermione yesterday."
"That's different, you're both..."
"People who've never interacted with your penis?" Luna's expression was bland enough he knew she was teasing, but he couldn't keep the blood from rushing to his face. "Harry, Ginny is your wife, but she's still just a person. You can speak with her like any other person."
He took a sip of tea, and Luna dropped the subject after a moment passed. "What about what we were speaking of earlier? You're not happy, and I feel this is a longer-standing issue than this weekend. Have you thought about that at all?"
He grimaced. "I'm happy. It's just been a rough week; Friday was..."
"Jamie's birthday."
He nodded. "It's always a rough week, and then Saturday, and then Sunday and..."
Luna leaned forward and lightly squeezed his arm. "And it was the worst time for you to be surprised with everything happening at once because you were already feeling overwhelmed. I understand. But you can't hold onto the past forever. You can't keep living a life of what-ifs. You'll keep allowing yourself to be taken advantage of, or pushed into situations you feel you have no control over. You'll never forget Jamie, and you shouldn't, but you need to ask yourself if you are the person he'd wish you to be were he here right now? He'd want you to be happy. You have his permission to do that."
Harry knew Luna's advice was good. He'd gotten into the habit of letting life pass him by, doing whatever was easiest and thinking about stability and comfort as opposed to happiness. He just didn't know how to change that. He knew he could ask Hermione, and likely get an armful of books with titles like Summoning Happiness or The Wonderful Wizard That Is You or something equally rubbish. He also suspected that asking her would give him a list of things that make Hermione happy, but maybe not so many for him.
Luckily, when he got home that night Ginny seemed content to let him think. It was as if a time-turner had set them back a week. The only difference was the lack of Ovvus Ovum before climbing between their soft, white sheets.
That very quiet led Harry to a decision: tomorrow, he would go to Luna's and speak with Malfoy.