Disclaimer: I am only a puppeteer, using Happy Potter characters as my puppets in my stories. These characters belong sole writer of Harry Potter books and I am no money from using them in any of my fantasy stories.

Warnings: M/M, language, Fluff, mention of sex and MPreg (MPreg might come into the story later on), Humor HP/DM, HP/OC, HG/RW Past HP/GW, past HP/OC(s), PMS-ing, and gossiping.

Beta: By my husband and I (not by his choice)

Due to how I upload this story Page breaks with look like this : (HPDMPAGEBREAK) I am sorry if this bothers anyone.

Notes: This story is HP/DM This is my first story. I won't lie. I am one of those Asshole (yes I will call myself out) who don't review even after reading a good story. I read lots of really good writing on here and I want to thank those people who write their ideas and share them. I am sorry that I don't write reviews ...but most likely will be still to lazy to write a review. This is un-bated. I am working on the next chapter now, and will give far warning I might change the title later one to something different. Thank you all for reading.

Saturday Nights

Chapter One

White.

Badly plastered with few small cracks painted over white. As I plop down on the mattress, thinking I never paid much attention to the way my ceiling curves in all the wrong places. I wonder how much damage the stormy months have brought. I don't remember the cracks this past winter, but now it's April. A rainy April.

It use to be my Friday thing. After all, Friday was the last day of my working week. Walking out in the winter breeze, into small warm pub was always inviting. No reporters. No drama. Or at least I thought. Friday nights were my nights. A few pints later I would tumble down the street towards my flat, my bed, most of the time, not alone.

But then everything changed to Saturday. Now Saturdays were my nights, the worst nights. I hated Saturdays, the pub always busy with drunkards, who wanted to push, pull, rub, whatever to have a good time. My weekly "bed partner's" schedule changed as soon as May hit. And now, Saturdays were his Fridays. Somehow, he changed my Fridays.

Thinking back on it, I should have just found someone else to sleep with.

Who else could have I bought home? Plenty of people...just not ones who were in it for the one night deal. Before we started this weird...I don't even know what to call it...affair? Yes, affair, before we started this weird affair I tried to find a simple lover. Someone who wouldn't pressure me about work, the press, my war issues.

There was Ginny...but there was never a spark, and come to find out she wanted to be with Dean. After I found them in bed together. Later to find out Dean dumped her for some Rachel chick. Katie wanted me to go to therapy every time I had a nightmare. Then there was Lenny who thought it was super cool that I was "such a war hero". He kept asking about the people I killed...he didn't last long. Brittany ran to the press about every tiff we had...Marcus was too needy. Sam was just downright horrible in bed. Then there was what's her name, who cried after our one night stand was over. We ended up having breakfast and going back to the pub I meet her at...and left when she excused herself for the little girls room.

Now thinking about it-take away the noise, overly make-upped women, the bourbon smelling bum pinches that randomly target me. Saturdays would be perfect.

I just got to try to remember where I always end up.

Looking up at white. I really think I should paint my ceiling. Maybe a blue?

"We can't do this anymore, Potter."

"Hmmm." My heart still pounding, adrenaline pumping through my veins. My best moments, ideas, realizations happen during these time. I also over think at these times.

"Yeah. Whatever you want Malfoy." I hear groan to my left before I feel him shift. I see him from the corner if my eye.

Well more like a blurry shape form of him. Somewhere between getting in the door, tripping off our shoes, ripping his shirt in the hallway, and peeling off my jeans in the bedroom, my glass have disappeared.

"I mean it this time. I am not going to be at the pub this Saturday" I can feel his stare. I wonder if mommy-dearest is pushing for pure-blooded marriage? Wants some grandchild to continue the Malfoy line. I sigh at the thought.

"Narcissa giving you the 'getting older-it's time to breed' talk again." All I had to say is the word breed and Malfoy gives a huge moan.

"Look! Just because you don't have social and family responsibilities doesn't mean I don't. Besides, I can't just keep going to the bar to get laid. I do have a life." Huffed Malfoy.

"I have a social responsibility. Come one think about how much of an blood cunt you become when you don't get laid. Didn't your last six assistants quit and cried to Kinsley about your psm-ing. By having you ride my cock, I'm making our society safer. I should be asking Kingsley for a raise!" Laughing at the pillow hits to my head.

"Besides, you hate children. What's going to happen when you have to change a baby's nappy. Babies drool you know." Holding my hand out, pushing my magic out and pulling my glass to me. I turn to face him as I put them on. I study him. I want to know how series he is this time. This is not the first time we had this talk.

If I remember correctly, this is how we started our affair. Showing up at my pub, trying to order a shot of muggle scotch. Or so he said when he down the bacarridi he order. Bitching how the bartender 'haddnn't a fuck'in clue what scotch was' and how 'mother-dearrressttt nneeed' to shut'he'fuc' upppie about havinng grann'brats.' That was before he was falling over to get his mouth on my cock while we were in the pub loo.

"Mother says that will be my wife's responsibility. I am sure she a lined up more than enough mindless twats for me to marry. I mean how hard can it be? Blonde hair, blue eyes, pureblooded, money hungry, willing to reproduce, gets Malfoy as a last name and social standing. I can't wait for all the miserable years ahead of me."

He trying to keep it light, but I can see his face darkening. A dementor must have snuck into the room, sucking his happiness away little by little. Just missing the chill in the air.

"So why do it? Why not tell your mother that's not what you want." I replied.

"Because Potter, it doesn't work that way. It important to the Malfoy line continues. My whole life is based on my having an heir. If I don't 'breed' as you call it, I forfeit my families vaults, our land, everything. While that mean little to nothing to you. It mean everything to me. I have pride in my families riches. It's been earned over 100 of years. Priceless items, artifacts, historical buildings, acres of magical lands..."

"Yeah, Yeah, Yeah. I get it you can stop now." Trying to stop this rant before it becomes endless. "So, why don't you carry the child, if an heir is all you need?"

I read about wizards having babies. A few potions here, some wand waving there and pop a baby. Well I am sure it more than that. At least 9 months more than that and such.

Well, that must have been the wrong response. Malfoy's face turn white as my ceiling.

"There is no WAY IN HELL I WOULD EVERY LET YOU IMPREGNANT ME" White face became redder with each word.

Woooh Wait. What. "That's not what I meant t..."

"I DON'T KNOW WHAT THE HELL YOUR THINKING BUT I WILL NEVER HAVE...A...BRAT..PARASITE... THING GROWING INSIDE ME. AND SURELY NOT WITH YOUR GENES! I AM NOT A FUCKING WESLEY! I AM NOT A BREEEDING TOOL FOR YOU." And with one finally huff, Malfoy grabbed his clothes and stomp him way to my bathroom. Slamming the door beside him.

Well, I guess asking Kingsley for that raise is out of the question.