(A/N: Rated M for mature language and adult content.
This is my attempt at angst... or maybe just the urge to kill off a character because it's gotta be done at least once. So... Heads up for a character death (I know... but they all can't be fluffy schmoop). It's Harry/Draco and sorta ends with a Harry/Neville, if you squint and look closely. (Re-edited just to clean it up.)
Overall warnings: EWE/AU. MalexMale slash. Smut. Language. Mpreg. Very probable rampant OOC.
So... enjoy? :))
Draco can, as usual, only stare at the Healer sitting in front of him. Harry is sitting next to him, his chair practically on top of his, with both of his hands firmly gripped around Draco's slim, pale one.
"Mr. Potter?" the Healer says, and Draco gets the impression it's not the first time the healer has addressed him. He tries to squash the usual pleasant tingle (which always leads to the urge to show a goofy smile) he feels at being addressed as such, especially considering where he was... but he couldn't.
Draco visibly shakes his head and gives the Healer a smile he hopes looks apologetic. "Yes. Sorry. I do apologize. You were saying?" He twirls his free hand in a 'go on' gesture and squeezes the other around Harry's as he turns briefly to smile at him.
Healer Webb gives both men a single glance before he shuffles through the parchments on his desk importantly. Draco hides a smirk; he can't stand the odious healer but Harry insisted on seeing him since he is the most qualified.
"Yes. As I was saying, we can manage the condition with potions but that's all we can do. Manage. It's proven to be quite-" The man pauses and tents his finger tips while pursing his lips slightly, as if searching for the proper word, "-resistant to any and all treatments we've tried. Healer Granger-Richardson has introduced some Muggle medical techniques with adequate results."
Draco smirks outright; Hermione's additions have been staggering. He nearly rolls his eyes at the description of her hard work and insight being called merely 'adequate'.
"However," Healer Webb continues, "even combining the two treatment styles, we can only look forward to pushing this back a year, maybe 14 months." He pauses again, giving Harry a brief look. "I realize this is hard news to take," He looks back to Draco, "but I assure you we are doing everything in our power to help."
Draco clears his throat so he won't let loose a snort but Harry has no such tact, he's secretly pleased to see. He tends to phase out at these appointments, relying heavily on Harry to pay attention and tell him what happened later. He really can't help his inattention at times and Harry never even bats an eye when Draco asks for a re-cap or to explain something the Healer had already explained.
Harry snorts and gives the healer a sardonic look. "Yes. I'm sure you are. We've seen numerous specialists and they've all told us the same thing." He pauses, his face morphing into a pained expression that Draco has to look away from. "You've given us the longest prognosis though." He swallows thickly. "We'd be remiss to not take the available treatments. So, how soon can we start?"
Draco does snort this time, but he covers it nicely with a soft cough. He knows Harry is barely restraining himself from launching across the desk at the pompous little man. And he's never gotten used to Harry sounding like some snooty pure-blood. Prognosis? Remiss? He didn't doubt Harry knew the words, he's just amused he'd said them out loud. It's actually a rather big turn on to watch Harry like this, all protective and high class.
"Harry-" he starts.
Harry turns to Draco sharply, his green eyes dark and serious. "No. You're not going to do this," he hisses in a fierce whisper. "We talked about it. You're going with the treatments." His expression softens and he brushes his fingers along the back of Draco's captive hand. "We'll only discuss other options... later." He squeezes Draco's hand again, his green eyes dimmed slightly but still alight with hope and determination.
Draco smiles as he nods and looks back to Healer Webb and nods again. He squeezes Harry's hand, hopefully conveying reassurance. He wants to pull Harry into his lap but he restrains himself, knowing it would be unseemly (and completely embarrass Harry) but it's something he reminds himself to do when he can. They could both use the comforting contact...
The healer nods back and shuffles through his parchments again and clears his throat. "Yes, well. The treatments are rather costly-"
Harry snarls and Draco can feel his magic tickling him (though he knows it's a lot more unpleasant for Healer Webb) as Harry tries to restrain his rage... Well, visibly, at least. "Cost is not an issue," he says coldly. Draco shifts subtly in his chair, trying to ease the sudden arousal from Harry's display.
Healer Webb shifts in his padded chair, obviously uncomfortable even though Harry's magic is already dissipating and clears his throat nervously, "Yes, of course, Mr. Potter. I didn't mean to imply otherwise. Just merely informing you."
Healer Webb gives them a smile and Draco is sure it's supposed to look reassuring, not constipated. He bites the inside of his lip to stifle an inappropriate giggle.
"As I was saying, the treatments are costly and largely need to be tailored to each patient. We need blood samples and it will take at least 2 weeks to get the proper potions brewed for Mr. Potter," he nods briefly towards Draco, missing the blonde's eye roll, "to start his treatments. Also, there are Muggle pharmaceuticals needed. I will give you a list and a prescription for those. He can start those as soon as he can get them. You will need," he pauses and looks through his file a moment, "Aha! You will need this card to get them. Muggles require permission for these drugs, so here's the card you'll need." He leans over and hands the card to Harry, who looks it over with a raised eyebrow. "Is there a problem?" He asks when he sees Harry's expression.
"I don't know," Harry looks at the card again. "This says 'David Higginsworth' on it." He looks at the healer, a slight scowl on his face.
Draco, Merlin help him, has to bite the inside of his cheek again to keep from grinning or -more inappropriately- straddling Harry's lap and snogging the man senseless. He can't help it, he loves when Harry shows his fierce protective side on Draco's behalf.
Healer Webb nods hesitantly, no longer all that comfortable around Harry, "Yes, we weren't sure about using his real name. Even in Muggle London. Anyway, you will have to pay with Muggle cash, as we aren't prepared to go with insurance and all that rot. Waste of time, really. The contact information comes to me or Mrs. Granger-Richardson if there are any problems." Webb leans back in his chair, tenting his fingers again and looks between both men. "Any other questions?"
Harry looks to Draco, who shakes his head once, and sighs softly. "No. Thank you. Please let us know when we can start the potions." He is only understanding half of the words the Healer used, which isn't a surprise. He'd had very little contact with doctors when he was growing up but he'd heard enough when he'd overhear his aunt or uncle discuss Dudder's health check-ups. He makes a mental note to explain what he understood to Draco, fully aware his husband had tuned out most of the visit and a small list to ask Hermione about.
The healer nods, takes two vials of blood from Draco and they floo home shortly after.
...oOo...
"Harry," Draco calls softly as he walks up the stairs. They've been home for hours and Harry disappeared upstairs the moment they'd exited the floo after giving him a peck on the cheek. He sighs softly; he knew the visits were getting harder and harder on Harry and he grits his teeth with impotent rage and regret. He'd only tried once to leave Harry when they got the diagnosis, but Harry wouldn't allow it; stubbornly reciting the 'til death to us part' section of their bonding vows in a choked up voice. He never mentioned doing it again, entirely too selfish and relieved to miss out on any time with Harry.
Draco hears a soft shifting noise but no response from Harry. Slowly he makes his way to their bedroom and opens the door. There is a glowing orb of soft yellow light hovering in the corner of the room, just enough light for him to see Harry's prone form on the bed. He smiles softly at the orb, pleased Harry used the charm he'd taught him so often. Neither of them enjoyed the dark very much and neither of them were shy about admitting it.
"Harry," he says again. The form shifts slightly, the rustling sound of fabric soft but audible again.
After a moment of silence, "Yeah?" The answer is muffled and hoarse, making Draco's chest feel tight. He closes his eyes for a moment; he never could handle tears very well, especially Harry's. It was all the more painful because Harry rarely allowed them to fall, even if he was alone.
Draco slowly approaches the bed, watching Harry closely. His knees barely touch the mattress when Harry quickly rolls over, sits up and grabs his waist and buries his face in Draco's stomach. He can feel tears soaking into his shirt and he can't help the strangled noise of desperation that escapes him as he rests his hands in Harry's wild mess of soft black hair. "Harry," he murmurs softly. "It's alright, love."
Harry rears back immediately and Draco can see the angry scowl on his face. He barely can be thankful the anger has evaporated Harry's tears before the dark haired man's arms squeeze almost painfully around his waist and he hisses, "How is it alright, Draco? What part of this is supposed to be alright?" Harry's breath hitches and he suffocates a sob against Draco's belly as he lowers his face again. He hates crying and he hates doing it when Draco is around to see it or hear him.
Draco shifts awkwardly, pressing Harry back so he can lay down. Immediately Harry adjusts his hold and is wrapped around his chest, his damp face in the hollow of Draco's throat, tucked securely right under his chin. He closes his eyes as he feels the wetness against his skin and he tries to find words. It takes a few moments and he contents himself with just holding his husband as he thinks.
"I know it's not alright, but I mean this isn't the way we need to handle this, love. I don't want to spend my time weeping and angry." He looks down and is pleased to see Harry looking up at him with a thoughtful frown. He leans down to kiss Harry's lips softly. "I am so angry I don't get more time with you," he murmurs. Harry's eyes close, but not before Draco can see regret and pain in the emerald depths. "I want to just lay here and cry and moan at the fates for this, but I don't want to waste the time we've been given." He squeezes the Gryffindor in his arms. "I am not going to just lay down and accept this, we'll fight it."
He smiles when he feels Harry nod and squeeze him tightly. "But we need to face reality."
Harry leans back slightly, his lips parted in surprise. "I know that, Draco." He leans back down, squeezing Draco tightly again; he's probably squeezing too hard but there are no complaints. "I'm just wallowing for a moment. I can't help it," he says with a soft huff. "It feels like some personal slight, I just can't keep people that I love," he whispers. "I know it's selfish to think of this as happening to me-" He smiles a little when Draco chuckles softly and runs a hand through his hair, "But I couldn't chase that thought away. I'm sorry. I won't waste our time, love." He leans up and presses a hard kiss to Draco's lips. "I don't think it's unreasonable for me to be upset, though. It's so fucking unfair, Draco," he chokes out.
Draco can only nod in response, needing a moment before he could find his voice again. He's squeezing Harry tightly but he doesn't loosen his hold since there are no protests. "I know, love. I agree with you completely." He just lays, quiet, holding his Harry for a long moment. "So," he says, trying to sound casual, "I had an idea. I want something."
Harry nods immediately and lays still, waiting. After a long moment of continued silence he looks up again. Draco is biting his lip and looking pensive. He leans up on an elbow so he can give the blonde his full attention. "What is it? What do you want, Draco? Anything," he promises.
Draco smiles as he reaches up to cup Harry's cheek. "Alright. I want Neville Longbottom." Harry just stares at him for a long moment. He can see so many emotions flit through those verdant eyes; he's amazed he doesn't get dizzy following them. Doubt, rejection, amusement, affection, confusion and even a small dash of want.
"I don't understand," Harry finally says slowly. "You need to be more specific, Draco."
"Harry," Draco's thumb slides along Harry's bottom lip lightly, "I want to get along with Neville Longbottom," he clarifies with a soft smile. "I want to be friends with him. I want you to get your relationship with him back. I want, well, whatever else might happen," he ends with a teasing smirk and a carefree shrug.
Harry gapes at Draco a moment, his tongue flicking out unconsciously to lap at Draco's thumb when it settles on the middle of his lip. "I still don't understand, love," he says softly. "I am still friends with him-"
Draco's thumb swivels across Harry's lips, stopping his words. "No, you're colleagues with him. Completely different, love. I've scared him away so you only see the man at work..." he admits, quietly. "I know you love him," he adds matter-of-factly, removing his thumb to caress a trail along Harry's jaw. He smiles as Harry's cheeks pink and a light shiver works it way through his body. He's not sure whether his actions or his words cause Harry's reaction and he's not sure he cares.
Harry flushes as he slowly shakes his head but he doesn't drop his eyes, "I love you, Draco."
He does love Neville, but only as a friend. Especially now. He'd had a rather large crush on his former dorm-mate in fifth year but never approached Neville since he didn't know how he'd react to Harry's affection... Plus Harry found himself quite distracted that year. He later learned that Neville, like many in the wizarding world, was what Muggles called 'pansexual'; he didn't care about the gender of someone when he liked them. Harry never regretted moving his feelings for Neville into the 'friend-zone', especially after things with Draco started heating up, but he did miss his friend something terrible. Neville was one of the few people who's loyalty never wavered.
Draco smiles and laughs softly, "I know you do, Harry. And I love you," he pauses for a moment and enjoys the way Harry's eyes darken and his lips part slightly with pleasure at his words. "But I know I'm not the only man you've ever loved. I honestly wonder at it sometimes," he murmurs.
He'd been surprised and a bit skeptical to learn Harry was basically a virgin when they first got together. At first he thought the man was just extremely picky and didn't bother with people he thought to be below him. Once he got to know Harry, he found out the Gryffindor was just a bit socially awkward and too distracted to indulge in normal teenage activities. Shame that but he had no problems admitting he had a rather large possessive streak that grunted with pleasure at being Harry's first in nearly everything.
Harry grins, "Oh Draco, I've loved lots of men," he leers playfully, trying to make it sound like Draco isn't the only man he's ever slept with. "I loved Sirius. I loved Remus. I even loved Ron." His face falls a moment as he remembers his ex-best friend who couldn't (or maybe just wouldn't) accept Harry's choices; namely getting involved with Draco. "I think I even loved Snape a little bit," he snickers. "I do love Neville," he finishes softly. "But it's not the sa-"
Again, Draco cuts him off. "Yes, you do Harry. It's not the same but it's so fucking close, it really could be. I've seen how you interact with him. I think it's one of the reasons I was so pissed at him," he admits with a sheepish smile. "I also know you chose me," he smirks and kisses Harry hard for a moment. His smirk deepens at the dazed look on Harry's face as he pulls way from the possessive kiss. "But if there had been the slightest change in events, you'd have been happy with him, too. I still marvel that you chose me, with all the drama and hardship that came with it," he says softly and runs a hand through Harry's hair, smiling as he watches the wild strands spring back and settle again, laying in every direction.
Harry blinks down at Draco a moment. "I'll always choose you, Draco," he murmurs and kisses him briefly, his eyes darting around Draco's face, enjoying the pleased flushed to the pale cheeks and the darkened steely eyes. "Alright. I see what you're saying. I think. I'm sorry, Draco. I won't do it," he frowns and shakes his head. He wants Neville back in his life, but not like he knows Draco is trying to imply. He couldn't...
"Yes you will, Harry." Draco counters, his voice firm. "I'm not saying you need to sleep with him, for Merlin's sake" he snickers at Harry's wide-eyed expression, "I'm saying you need to get him back in your life. I've been able to put up with Granger, I think I can handle Longbottom." He honestly got along rather well with Neville the few times they'd interacted and briefly feels like a massive bastard. "And-" He rushes on as he sees Harry's mouth open to defend Hermione, "if something... more," Draco makes a vaguely obscene hand gesture, "develops you are not allowed to hold back." He can't stand the knowledge that he'll be leaving Harry alone; he's woefully short on loving people in his life and he'd be damned if Harry lost another one. Neville has always been a fiercely loyal friend and he needed that for Harry now more than ever.
Harry stares down at the blonde, lost in thought. "I would love to have Neville back in my life but I'm not going to flirt with him, especially not anytime in the future. Draco, I love you. You can't expect me to just wander into some other man's bed just because you tell me to." He frowns down at the blonde, "And you certainly can't tell me I can't mourn and miss you either. Fuck that."
Draco laughs softly and pulls Harry flush against his chest. "I'm not saying that, per se. But you can see the general idea of what I'm saying. I can't stand the idea of you being without love, Harry" he murmurs softly, his hands sliding under Harry's t-shirt to caress and slide over smooth, warm skin. "I couldn't bear the thought of you alone and devastated." He grins a moment, "Because, naturally, you will be devastated without me."
Harry glares up at him a moment before his gaze softens. "I will be" he whispers. "I don't think anything, or anyone, can stop that, Draco." He moans softly as Draco's hands slide down his back and slip under the hem of his sleep pants. A swift move the the elastic waistband is pushed down to his thighs. "Draco," he whispers, "I think-" His breath hitches as he feels fingers brush along the crack of his ass. "Oh," he breathes when those fingers return, dripping lube and sliding around in circles as they slip lower and caress. As usual when Draco wand-lessly conjures lube, he mentally thanks magic with enthusiasm.
"Yes, Harry?" Draco breathes, sliding one hand around Harry's hip to brush against his growing erection.
"Hng," Harry responds.
Draco chuckles, "Very eloquent, Potter." He uses his shoulder to ease Harry onto his back before sliding down his body. "Damn pants," he mumbles just before his teeth latch onto the elastic top and yanks them down Harry's legs. He chuckles again when Harry promptly kicks his legs to get them all the way off when Draco slides them down far enough.
As soon as Harry settles back down, Draco drags his tongue up his hard length, thrilling at the low moan from Harry. As he tongues along the slit, gathering pre-come and swallowing it with a smile, he delights in the keening groan he hears and finally envelops Harry's cock after his pleading moans have gotten desperate enough. Harry gasps and bucks, driving his cock further into Draco's throat. He's ready for it and eagerly swallows around the thick, velvety hardness with practiced ease and closes his eyes in pleasure when he feels Harry's hands burrow into his pale strands. Merlin, he loves when Harry grabs him like that, like he's the only thing keeping Harry attached to the earth.
"Oh fuck, Draco," Harry breathes, he feels more than hears Draco's contented hum and he can't help but buck his hips again at the sensation. Draco's hand slides up his thigh, pushing down and then resting on his hip, holding him down lightly. Harry opens his eyes to look down and nearly comes when he sees the blonde somehow able to smirk around his cock. "Draco," he moans again.
"No," he whines in protest as Draco bobs up and down, his tongue pressing and gliding along the sensitive underside of his cock as he goes. "No," his hands pull weakly and try to lift Draco's insistent head. "Please. Inside me. I don't want to-" he moans loudly when Draco slides a finger into his slippery entrance, quickly followed by a second before he can even finish the sentence or breathe. "Yeah, oh fuck, Draco. Fuck me," he groans, not exactly instructing but he knows Draco will take it as such.
Draco closes his eyes with a moan, letting Harry's cock slide from his swollen lips and slap wetly against his belly. He'd been pleasantly surprised to learn Harry mumbled and moaned filthy words when lost to passion; it was a surprising turn-on. A frown appears on Harry's flushed face for a moment but before he can complain Draco slides in a third finger as he leans up and captures a dusky, pert nipple in his mouth.
"Such language. But don't worry, I will, Harry," he breathes, watching the nub pebble in the cool breeze of his breath before glancing up to meet the dark emerald gaze Harry sends him. He trails hot, open mouth kisses up Harry's chest and neck, nibbling and biting gently where his shoulder meets. Harry moans softly and Draco captures his lips in a searing kiss. Harry sighs into the kiss, opening up to Draco's questing tongue a moment later. Draco slowly pulls back so he can kneel between Harry's spread legs.
Harry's hands are immediately on the button of Draco's jeans, and he pushes the heavy material down just enough to free Draco's hard, leaking cock. Merlin, Harry loves when Draco wears Muggle jeans. It was worth the many promised -and happily done- sexual favors it took to get Draco to even try them on that first time. "Draco," Harry whispers again, his hands sliding up and down his back before they rest in his pale hair again. "I love you, so much," he whispers as Draco slowly slides into him. "So much" he murmurs, clutching Draco as his body adjusts to the intrusion.
"I know," Draco smiles softly down at Harry. "I love you, too," he says, kissing his parted lips. Slowly, he slides his tongue against Harry's and he feels Harry's hips twitch and circle, a sign he's ready for Draco to move. With a low moan, he slowly slides back out loving the way Harry's body clenches around him as if to keep him inside. It doesn't take long for his slow pace to quicken, his only focus is the in and out of Harry's glorious body. Harry's back arches beautifully as he moans, bringing a leg up over Draco's hip, drawing him closer and deeper.
Harry gasps and cries out as Draco brushes harshly against his prostate. "Oh, fuck, right there," he moans.
Draco happily complies, angling his thrusts to hit the same spot.
Harry throws his head back, and Draco attacks the golden column of flesh this his lips, tongue and teeth. "So delicious," he murmurs against the warm skin as he presses their bodies closer, trapping Harry's hard and leaking cock between them. "Harry," Draco leans down, his tongue sliding around the shell of his ear, "come for me, love." He angles his hips again, thrusting deeply as he feels Harry's body start to clench and convulse around his cock. Harry's body bows and he cries out as Draco feels his cock pulsing between them, his warm come splashing and smearing between their bodies.
"Hng," Draco groans, his own orgasm nearly ripped from him, his vision going a speckly white a moment as he steadily fills Harry's body with his release. He collapses bonelessly, pinning Harry between himself and the bed. Harry makes no protest, wrapping his arms and legs firmly around the blonde and sighing deeply with content.
After a moment, when he's mostly caught his breath, Harry laughs quietly. "Very eloquent, Potter," he parrots to Draco.
Draco huffs with amusement and slides off of Harry to land against his side, easing his weight off Harry as he pulls the other man to his chest. "Shut up." He smiles and kisses Harry deeply a moment before pulling back slightly. "Its not my fault you've rubbed off on me," he mumbles against his lips before letting his eyes slide closed and sleep to take him, not even caring they've both slipped into sleep without cleaning up first.
...oOo...
The next morning Draco woke up slightly sticky and alone. He grimaces at the dried come sticking to him and frowns as he cocks an ear to the bathroom but doesn't hear anything. Slowly he turns his head and glances at the Muggle clock Harry has placed on the bedside table and nearly gapes when he realizes its almost noon. With a curse, Draco carefully climbs out of bed and shuffles into the bathroom to take a shower. He grumbles under his breath when he washes alone, secretly hoping Harry would've 'surprised' him by joining him.
Washed, dressed and fairly free of a headache thanks to a strong headache Potion, Draco follows his nose to the kitchen. Coffee. A smile blooms on his face as he pushes the door open.
Harry is at the small table, a plate loaded with bacon and eggs in front of him and a large coffee cup steaming slightly in front of him. He looks up when Draco enters and is immediately up with a smile and in the blonde's arms a moment later.
"Morning, love," he whispers against his lips as he kisses him. "Coffee is ready. Toast?" He pulls away slightly, a hopeful expression on his face. He wants to nag and force Draco to eat but the tantrum, pouting and possible row just isn't worth it. He's learned that more Slytherin tactics work best. So far, his earnest, guilt inducing looks work out the best.
Draco smiles and nods, settling into the chair next to Harry's. Harry sets a coffee mug in front of him, already having added the cream and sugar, and a plate with two pieces of dry toast. Draco gratefully takes a sip of the coffee and moans softly, "I can't believe I went so long without coffee." He looks down at the mug with a mock serious expression on his face. "I love you," he intones to the mug and wraps both hands around the warm ceramic. He steals a piece of bacon from Harry, missing the pleased expression that flits over Harry's face that is quickly hidden by Harry's own large mug, munching the stolen bacon with quick little nibbles before licking his fingers.
Harry laughs and slaps Draco's arm lightly, "Oh funny, I see where I rank. Too bad you can't shag coffee..." His face clears suddenly and he almost looks apologetic for a moment, "Sorry I didn't wake you sooner. I know you don't like to 'waste the day sleeping'," he grins and makes air quotes as he mimics Draco's tone, "but you looked so peaceful and well-" He shrugs, "I think you needed it." It was getting more and more common for Draco to sleep badly, or not at all. He just couldn't bring himself to disturb the blonde earlier, no matter the consequences.
He clears his throat softly and smiles again. "We got Webb's owl about an hour ago, we've got the list of Muggle drugs, so we can head out and get those today if you want." He reaches over and takes Draco's free hand, silently hoping the blonde will agree but unwilling to push.
Draco nods and takes another sip of coffee before answering. "Of course. We'll head out as soon as we're done." He smiles at Harry and warmth floods through him when the dark haired man beams back at him. "Do we know what these Muggle drugs are for or what they do?" he asks after nibbling on his toast for a moment, silently wondering if he's up to marmalade today. He eyes the jar by the center of the table and reaches for it with a shrug. He winks when Harry smiles brightly at him again and focuses on his task for a moment while Harry thinks, if the near constant twitching and fidgeting could be called thinking.
Harry scratches the back of his head a moment, "Uhm, not really. 'Mione said the one is a pain reliever. Apparently more potent than any potion, which I still find hard to believe." Hermione had made the pills sound like a step down from an illegal substance. He'd heard the unspoken 'only given to terminal patients' in everything Hermione had said about the Muggle drugs and wanted to cry but willing to try them if they'd help. It wasn't hard to see that Draco was starting to feel pain more frequently. "There's another one that's supposed to help with one of the potions for the... the tumor shrinkage." He pauses a moment, blinking the prickling sensation from his eyes before he shakes his head lightly and continues. "I'm not sure about the others. 'Mione can tell us, though."
He sorts through the small papers that came with the owl; prescriptions. There are several of them but dated in such a way they can only fill two at a time. The untidy scrawl is impossible to read and he nibbles his top lip hoping there won't be any problems getting them filled. Maybe it's some kind of strange Healer code or language?
Draco nods, absently brushing crumbs into a neat line on the table with the side of his hand before sweeping them onto his plate. "Alright. I suppose it doesn't really matter what they do. I'll take them regardless."
Harry smiles softly and squeezes his hand. "Still, it's good to know what you're taking. I'll floo 'Mione." He leans forward and kisses Draco and excuses himself from the kitchen and makes his way into the parlor.
Draco just sits, sipping his coffee and pondering whether he should join him or not. Harry seemed to just take care of all the details like that. Draco had no cause to doubt him or Hermione's knowledge in the matter. Would Harry be upset if Draco didn't become more involved or is he happy to be able to tackle it alone, feeling like he was doing something? He really doesn't know and he tells himself to ask so Harry doesn't misinterpret his actions. He has learned, after many years together, how insecure Harry can still be and how easily he can misread the simplest (well, simple to him) of things. He makes less mistakes now that he knows more about Harry's childhood and such but he still, on occasion, will do or say something innocent and upset Harry.
Just as Draco decides to join Harry, he comes back in the kitchen with a small piece of parchment clutched in his hand. "OK, what I said for the others was right and the last one is some sort of experimental medication for," Harry pauses and clears his throat, "for nausea."
Draco silently reaches out and takes Harry's hand, with the parchment in it still. "Alright. Lets get to Gringott's first so we can get lots of Muggle money. We're having dinner out, alright?" He pulls Harry down and kisses him softly. "Love, please don't torture yourself." He rests his forehead against Harry's. "One day at a time, yeah?"
He doesn't admit he'd seen the phrase on some Muggle religious building. At the time he didn't understand the sentiment (of course you take days one at a time) but... now he does. Now he gets it.
Harry smiles and kisses Draco soundly. "Yeah, OK," he mutters. "Finish your toast and we'll get going." He grins and promptly leaves the kitchen again, hoping Draco will take more of his bacon if he thinks he's sneaking it.
...oOo...
A few weeks go by before Harry is sick and tired of being ignored by Healer Webb. He floos Hermione and as soon as she allows him to come through, he storms into her parlor.
"'Mione!" Harry starts to pace in front of the small sofa she's flopped onto. "I haven't heard from Webb since we got Draco's first round of potions. I know I was very specific in getting updates weekly." He pauses, mid pace and rant, and glares at the witch, as if she's at fault.
Hermione raises her hands and shakes her head, "Harry, calm down. There's no reason for weekly updates. Unless he's low on potions or his Muggle medications, there's really no need to be in contact with Healer Webb if Draco is doing fine." She wants to ask if Harry is worried because Draco isn't doing fine but restrains herself. Harry would be a lot less coherent if that were the case.
Harry stares at her a moment before a tired but sheepish smile creeps onto his face and he settles onto the sofa next to her with a graceless flop. "I know, 'Mione," he sighs and absently rubs his temple.
Draco is responding surprisingly well to the Muggle medications, but only the pain relievers. He'd only taken one and Harry had been torn between amusement and concern at his spacy reaction to the medication. They'd both agreed to save them for the more intense pains, even though Harry was less then thrilled; he hated Draco to be in any pain.
Harry sounds so lost and miserable, Hermione takes his hand and leans against his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Harry. I can't imagine what you both are going through. But you have to believe me when I tell you he's getting the best care and we're doing everything that we can. I'm one of his healers, do you think I'd let anything slide?" She tries to be stern, but she's smiling anyway and Harry smiles as well when he can hear it.
"No, 'Mione," Harry says, sounding like he's dutifully repeating a well learned phrase. "Its just so bloody frustrating," he says and sighs loudly as he leans his head back against the cushion and closes his eyes. "I'm so fucking scared, I don't want to loose him but there's not a bloody thing I can do about it." He doesn't notice the tear that's escaped his lashes, but Hermione does and her heart breaks for her friend.
"Harry," she murmurs. "how are you doing otherwise?" He looks pale and tired, not that she's surprised, but she's not seen him so since school. Thankfully, not as bad or he'd be in St. Mungo's. Her brow creases with worry as she looks Harry over carefully, her sharp eye assessing as a Healer and not as a best friend.
Harry snorts, "I'm just taking one day at a time." He slowly raises his head and looks at Hermione, "I'm not sleeping well unless Draco is there." He doesn't have to mention to Hermione that Draco is only there a few nights a week, between some of the experimental treatments and the git still taking assignments that take him out of the country. "I eat when I can..." he trails off and Hermione is immediately suspicious.
"And?" She asks harshly. "Harry? Are you at least eating properly?" Harry looks away and she wants to scream at the man. She settles on giving him a stern look.
"Yes," he mumbles and looks away. "I don't keep it down often, though. If I'm not nauseous, weird smells make me want to throw up," he grouses and rubs a hand over his stomach.
Hermione blinks a moment. "What?" After a thoughtful pause, "For how long?" she watches as Harry absently rubs his chest and wince slightly as his hand passes over a painfully peaked nipple.
"Dunno." Harry shrugs and stares off a moment. "I do eat, though. Like I said." He stares off again, lost in thought. "I don't know how long, really. Maybe a just few weeks or so." He shrugs again, unconcerned. He rarely had a large appetite to begin with but the frequent vomiting is slightly worrisome but he doesn't want Hermione to worry about him.
Hermione's eyes go wide and nearly bug out of her skull and she gets up hastily and leaves the room. Harry just blinks after her, "'Mione? Where are you going?" He vaguely hears her yell something about her wand and he settles back down in the sofa again. He blinks when he notices a steaming mug of tea sitting on the table in front of him and gratefully takes a few sips. He didn't even realize his stomach was feeling so unsettled until he relaxes and the tea eases it somewhat. He looks around, hoping for some biscuits.
Hermione rushes back in the room, wand held out and her cheeks flushed. She is holding a thick, old looking book and her eyes are quickly scanning the page as she mutters something in Latin to herself. "OK," she looks up at Harry after a few moments and gently takes the tea from his hands and sets it on the table. "It's a good thing you're sitting. I would like to check something. Is it alright if I run a test or two on you?" She bites her lip when Harry raises an eyebrow at her. It's rather annoying to have to look up any sort of medical spell; she's a fully trained healer, for Merlin's sake! Even if this isn't her area of expertise... she should know it.
"Sure, 'Mione. You know you don't even have to ask." Harry settles himself comfortably on the sofa and waves his hand at her. "Ready when you are."
"Harry," Hermione cocks a hip and rests a fist on it. "I do have to ask. Anyone should ask. It's rude to just point your wand at someone." She purses her lips a moment and ignores the strange look that Harry gets, probably a lusty thought about Draco, and checks the book a moment before she swishes her wand at Harry and murmurs quietly. A warm green light bursts from her wand and circles Harry's chest and abdomen before it glows a soft yellow and dissipates. She does this twice more with the same results.
Harry looks up from the fading yellow to see Hermione staring at him looking absolutely gobsmacked. "What?" he asks, a tinge of worry in his voice. "'Mione?"
"Oh, Harry," she breathes, "I- You're- Oh Merlin. How can I- Merlin!" She gapes at him for a long moment and just as Harry is about to launch himself off the sofa at her, she sees the distress on his face and wants to slap herself for her reaction. Of course the man would be freaking out. "I'm sorry, Harry! I didn't mean to worry you. It's alright! You're pregnant." She smiles at the dark haired man.
Harry sits in stunned silence for a long moment. "I'm what? No. That's not- What?" he asks weakly and looks down at his flat stomach with wide eyes.
Hermione nods and sits down next to him, showing him the book she'd brought with her. "You are pregnant, Harry. It's true. See?" She's pointing to the book, the illustrations clearly show the meanings of the various colors from the test she performed, but Harry is staring at her, slack jawed.
A warm, squirmy feeling is working through his chest and stomach as the news settles in. He nearly cries, overwhelmed with the sheer joy of it. "But, how?" he stammers.
Hermione can't help but laugh and grin at him. "I'm sure you know how, Harry."
Harry smirks for a moment and shakes his head. "No, no, I mean. How? We haven't-" His eyes go wide as he looks at the book finally. There are pictures of pregnant men. Illustrations showing diagrams and all sorts of horribly detailed things that will happen to his body. He isn't completely ignorant to the strange fact that wizards can get pregnant. He's quite proud of himself for taking the initiative years ago to learn more about the Wizarding world and even pure-blood culture.
No, he's shocked because they haven't been careless; they haven't planned this. They did contraceptive charms regularly, for Merlin's sake.
"Oh," he mumbles, his cheeks pinking and he suddenly feels rather foolish. Draco doesn't use magic much anymore unless it's deemed important (and not too taxing) and Harry isn't nearly as attentive to such things. He hardly did the charms on himself, usually relying on Draco to do it; it was just habit. He groans softly. The joy hasn't diminished (there's no way he'd ever regret something like this) but he's feeling rather sheepish at his carelessness.
Hermione smiles and shakes her head at him. Obviously it is unplanned. She looks down at the book and clicks her tongue. "It takes a powerful wizard to conceive and to impregnate. Not to mention compatible magic. So really, it's only natural that you would get pregnant at some point, Harry. I mean, its you and Draco. Perfect really. I'm mostly surprised you haven't before now." She stops and takes a breath, finally noticing Harry's shiny, wide eyes. She can't remember the last time she saw him worked up enough to actually cry...
"Oh, Harry," she breathes, reality slapping her in the face. "I'm sorry. I can only imagine how big a shock this is."
Harry is staring at her again, an unreadable expression on his face. "Oh fuck," he finally whispers as reality intrudes on his joyous thoughts. "'Mione, I can't believe this." His shoulders start to shake and Hermione can only bring her friend to her chest, wrap her arms around him and comfort him as best she can. "This is so fucked up," he mumbles against her shoulder. "I'm finally able to have a family, but-" his words get cut off with a choked sob. "Oh, Merlin, Draco!" He bolts upright and looks around wildly. "I have to tell Draco! Draco," his chest hitches and he drops back to Hermione's shoulder with a pained sob. "Oh, 'Mione. How is this fair?"
Hermione can only sigh and rub soothing circles on his back. It's not fair. She wants to rage at someone, anyone, for Harry. For Draco. It's not fair the blonde is getting taken away from Harry, and now he's being taken from his unborn child. She tucks Harry's messy head under her chin as she holds him and murmurs soothing words until Harry's sobs are down to sniffles.
Carefully, she leans back and smiles at Harry, "Tell him he'll have a daughter. He'll get to see her, Harry. I'll make sure of it." She folds Harry close again and barely hears his whispered "a daughter" before he's overcome with tears again.
After a few moments, Harry leans back with a wet sniffle, wiping his eyes and smiling sheepishly at Hermione. "I'm sorry to blubber all over you."
Hermione waves a hand absently and scoffs, "Please. Don't be. This is a lot to take in, Harry. I don't mind." She adds seriously but with a fond smile. "That's what friends are for." She hands him a tissue and gives him a moment to compose himself. "Really, don't feel like you have to keep anything in or be strong. You're allowed to be human, alright?" She chucks his chin lightly and smiles. "Well, it's past my bedtime. You need to take that book," she points to the large, dusty tome, "and go home. Read it. I'll help, of course, but you should know what to expect." She carefully closes the book and hands it to Harry before she gets up. Harry rises too, almost robotically, and makes his way over to the floo. "Congratulations, Harry. I know it's not the ideal situation but I can't tell you how happy I am for you. And Draco." She smiles and hugs him for a long moment. "Don't think too far ahead on this, alright?" She's pleased to feel him nod.
Hermione gives him one last hug before he tosses in the powder and disappears.
...oOo...
Harry spends the next hour staring at the large, old, dusty and still closed book. As soon as he got home he put it down, glaring at it the whole time, on the bed and hasn't worked up the courage to open it yet. It was one thing to know something but quite another to have hard facts -and scary, realistic pictures- spread out in front of your face demandingly. So much for Gryffindor courage, he scoffs. Distantly he hears a clock somewhere in the quiet house bong the hour. Shit. Draco is due home any moment and Harry isn't sure he can even pick the damn book up even to hide it. Merlin, he's such a baby...
The choice is made for him as Draco wanders through the bedroom door a moment later, headed straight for Harry. He doesn't even say hello before he's got the dark haired man wrapped firmly in his arms, their lips attached and moving together. Harry doesn't mind. He happily kisses the blonde back, practically devouring him. Draco smiles against his lips and hums happily. "Hi," he murmurs as he pulls back slightly.
"Hi," Harry answers. He lets his lips trail down the strong jawline before he latches on to the soft skin below Draco's ear. The blonde moans softly and squeezes him tightly.
"Miss me?" Draco breathes. He can feel Harry nod against his neck before he feels agile fingers popping the top two buttons, sliding the fabric to the side and then teeth nipping along his collarbone. "Good, I missed you. I thought you'd like to know today was my last day."
Harry pauses and rears back, his eyes wide. "What? Why? I thought-" he sputters but he's starting to smile, thoroughly pleased with the news. No more nights sleeping alone, no more worrying if Draco is going to feel weak or woozy when he isn't there.
Draco shushes him with his lips, smiling against them. He'd made his plans for the company the week after his diagnosis and only now felt he could step away. He trusted Blaise with his life so why not the family business? "I didn't want to waste any of my time. I want to be with you." He smiles but wants to kick himself when he sees Harry's face fall slightly at the reminder. "Shhh. Don't think about that right now," he gently kisses Harry again. "Just think of it as early retirement, yeah?" He grins at Harry and is relieved when he smiles back, even if it is rather watery and pained.
"Alright," Harry answers softly. His eyes dart to the book on the bed before they land on Draco again. "I, uhm, found out something today. I stopped by 'Mione's today."
Draco laughs and places a noisy kiss on Harry's neck, "Stop pestering the woman. She'll let us know if Webb has any updates."
Harry scoffs and playfully shoves the blonde away from his neck, "Oh shut up. Well, anyway, uhm. She told me something. And. Well. It's quite shocking." Harry's eyes are wide again and Draco can only stand and wait for the man to spit it out. "I didn't even know this sort of thing would happen. I mean, who knew? I didn't. Well, I knew it could happen. Just not now, or you know-"
"Harry! For fuck's sake. Spit it out!"
Harry swallows thickly and nods. "Yeah. OK. Best to just get it out..." At Draco's glare he swallows again and closes his eyes. "I'm pregnant."
There is no sound. Draco is standing there, staring slack jawed at his husband. Harry's eyes are still closed and he's almost angry the Gryffindor isn't looking at him. "Harry," he whispers, "Open your eyes, dammit." He's immediately assaulted with Harry's bright gaze, which widens as he sees Draco's expression. The blonde is smiling, his eyes nearly glowing silver as he looks at Harry before wrapping him in a tight embrace again. "I know, the timing is fucking terrible but I can't tell you how thrilled I am," he murmurs into Harry's neck. He noisily kisses a line up to Harry's forehead, down his nose, across his cheeks before landing softly on his lips before burrowing his face in Harry's neck again.
Harry's eyes are bright with tears again and he's glad Draco can't see him, "I was so shocked I nearly fainted and pissed myself."
Draco snorts a laugh and looks at Harry before he gently holds his face in his hands. "This is wonderful news," he stresses, perfectly aware of Harry's lingering insecurity and doubts. He'd rather it happened earlier but they'd only spoken of a family in the abstract, using terms like 'someday' and 'later'. He wants to cry at the unfairness of the timing but he's too full of happiness at the moment. He grins wickedly as his thumbs stroke along Harry's cheekbones. "Of course, it would figure it would happen when I leave the charms to you. Otherwise, it was really only just a matter of time."
He had heard of many couples' contraceptive charms weakening the longer they were together, no matter how powerful they were, increasing the chances for conception with each passing year. Draco always wondered if it was magic's natural way of ensuring pregnancy no matter what a wizard or witch did, short of using Muggle means or abstinence.
Harry wants to smack the blonde but he settles for thumping a hand against his chest, "That's what 'Mione said! Merlin, I'm so happy but at the same time-" he breaks off with a sad shake of his head. He quickly lays his hands over Draco's hands on his face and squeezes them tightly. "I wish this happened sooner too," he finishes quietly. "However," he jerks his head towards the bed, "Hermione gave me a big old nasty, dusty book that's going to fucking terrify me." He glares at the large book, as if its offended him. He knew the general idea but this... this was a lot of graphic knowledge.
Draco laughs and folds Harry to him again, "Don't be such a baby. I'll be here," he murmurs quietly and kisses the top of Harry's head. "And Hermione will of course be practically glued to you, I'm sure." He glances at the large book a moment before looking back to Harry, his eyes sliding down to rest on Harry's belly. "Did she- Was there- What's-"
Harry smiles and nods, knowing exactly what's on his mind. "Yeah, a girl." He beams when he sees Draco's eyes glisten and a smile spread across his face. "I don't care, personally." He chews his lip a moment, waiting to see what Draco says. He's not so sure he could raise a girl but he wasn't the least disappointed or let down there wouldn't be a male heir. Girls could do that, too, right?
Draco nods, "No, I don't really either." He squeezes Harry tightly. "Merlin, I can't believe this. Harry, this is amazing. I'm so happy." He gently kisses Harry, his hands slowly sliding along his back and sides. "Please, read that damn book so I don't have to." He smirks when Harry makes an indignant noise.
...oOo...
Another few days go by with Draco taking his potions. He is having to take the potions more frequently, just like that toad Webb had warned. He can't keep it from Harry, of course, and he curses himself for the expression that crossed his face when Draco downed the third potion in as many weeks. "Maybe it's time for the pills," Draco muses aloud, staring at the strange amber container. He'd only taken two so far, still surprised at the medicine contained in the small, oval shaped pills. They were indeed powerful.
"Maybe," Harry says and bites his lip thoughtfully. "Half?" he asks, remembering the spacey reaction Draco had to a whole pill. Hermione said the pills could be halved if needed.
Draco nods and easily snaps the pill on the scored line. He huffs with reluctant respect to the clever design and swallows the pill with mouthful of water and a grimace. "So, are you going to owl Neville?" he asks, flicking the newspaper straight and raising it so Harry can't see the smirk on his face.
"Uhm, no. Well, I did but it was a work request," Harry stammers, feeling a blush on his cheeks. Damn that Draco!
"For what?" Draco asks, lowering the paper.
"Reduced hours," Harry says with a shrug. He is still having a hard time with various smells, and working in Neville's shop is torture some days. He never thought the smell of flowers would make him so nauseous. He blushes when he realizes he hadn't said why he wanted reduced hours, just the request. He couldn't lie should Neville ask about it and he's reluctant to share the news just yet.
"Ah, well..." Draco trails off, making a mental note to owl or floo Neville himself. He respected Harry's opinion on the matter but he isn't giving up. Even if Neville only fulfills the role of a friend, he intends to make sure it happens. He lowers the paper and lets it fall to the floor. "Let's go get lunch?"
Harry blinks for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, sure... I gotta change," he murmurs and hurries to their room, peeking over his shoulder and wondering at a smug looking Draco.
They wander the streets, holding hands and just enjoying the warm day. Harry isn't at all paying attention to their destination, happy to just let Draco lead him, and gulps when they step in front of Neville's shop. He glares at Draco, trying to ignore the smug smile on the blonde's face as he reaches past Harry to open the door. Harry immediately holds his breath as he walks in the shop.
"Harry!" Neville greets happily, peeking up over a large frilly green potted plant when the bell tinkles merrily over the door. He blinks when he sees Draco and flushes, still unsure how to greet the man. "Malfoy."
"Neville," Draco drawls smoothly, enjoying the way the other man's cheeks pink. He winks at Harry's incredulous expression. "How're things?"
"Good. Good. Fine," Neville sputters, completely thrown by Draco's genial attitude. The last time he'd seen the blonde, he'd threatened to hex his bits off. He jerkily turns to Harry, "I got your owl. I can reduce your hours... we've finally got another pair of hands and it's not as busy this time of year," he assures Harry, itching to ask the reason behind the change. He slowly frowns, noticing that Harry's face looks pinched and nearly green. "Are you alright?"
Harry nods and steps back towards the door, propping it open and taking great gulps of fresh air. His stomach finally settles and he smiles sheepishly at Neville. "I'm fine. And thanks, Nev."
"Sure, not a problem Harry," Neville says with a warm smile. He slowly looks to Draco, expecting a scowl and blinks at the returning smile on the blonde's face. "Erm," he says and scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. What a strange morning.
"We're about to head to lunch. Join us," Draco offers, his tone firm. He's not asking, he's blatantly telling the other man to come and by the wide-eyed look Neville gives him, he knows Neville understands.
"Yeah, sure. Why not," Neville says with a nervous chuckle. He swiftly turns and grabs his wand from the shelf he was installing. "Let's go," he says, following the pair out of the door. He waves his wand at the door, turning the sign to 'Closed' and bringing the wards up to lock. "Where to?" he asks quietly, shoving his hands in his pockets as he looks between a stunned Harry and a smugly smiling Draco.
"Where do you want to go, love?" Draco asks, looking at Harry. He's still learning what turns Harry's stomach and what he stuffs in his mouth like a starving hippogriff. Thankfully his aversion to bacon lasted only a week.
"Uhm, that Italian place?" Harry asks, batting his eyelashes at Draco coyly. He knows Draco doesn't like Muggle restaurants but he really really wants lasagna and tiramisu.
Draco chuckles and wraps an arm around Harry's waist. "Of course, love," he easily agrees and kisses Harry's temple. "That alright with you?" he asks Neville, smiling politely.
"Yeah, sure. I haven't had decent Fettuccine in forever," Neville replies with a grin.
He easily falls into step beside Harry as they walk the few blocks to the restaurant. He glances at Harry occasionally, stealing glances from the corner of his eye. He'd been surprised to get the owl earlier, and even more surprised at the request. He knows Harry doesn't need the money but he's still curious why he wanted less hours. He's even more curious about the change in Draco. He'd only recently heard about the diagnosis from Harry (he'd nearly burst something to keep from hugging Harry tightly when he'd found out) and he wasn't sure if that was the reason for the change. He'd rarely seen a smile that wasn't directed at Harry on Draco's face. He is rather surprised to find the sight appealing and wishes to see it more often, it makes him look much more approachable.
As they walk into the restaurant, Neville chuckles when Harry inhales deeply and moans softly. He looks at Draco and completely agrees with the blonde's heated look being directed at Harry. Even a moan over food sounds like pure sin. Luckily, they're seated quickly and he hides behind the menu for a moment trying to compose himself. He glances up at Draco, blinking at the completely besotted look on the blonde's face. Harry is engrossed in the menu, but he sees a small smile creep onto Harry's face as he holds his hand out for Draco to grab.
"So," Draco says and smiles a little when Neville jumps. "How've you been, Neville?" he asks, sincerity in his voice. He's already quite comfortable addressing the other man by his first name and he hopes Neville gets used to it shortly; he's not sure how long he can take the dubious looks and jumpy reactions without snarking at the other man.
"Erm, good, good. The shop is doing very well. I've finally got Gran situated at that Aging Wizarding Home..." Neville trails off uncertainly. He didn't have much else going on and he wants to groan with misery.
"Why did you send your Gran there?" Harry asks, crunching an ice cube between his teeth. He is starving! Where the hell was their server?
"She's been having some issues," Neville says with a shrug. "She's not ill enough for St. Mungo's. Dean opened the place about a year ago, said it was an idea he got from Muggles. I personally find it a great place. Gran's looked after and I can visit whenever I feel like it."
Draco nods slowly, surprisingly keen on the concept and once again surprised by something Muggle. He's about to ask more about it when the waitress pops up at his elbow with a perky greeting. He chuckles when Harry hurriedly orders an antipasto appetizer and a large piece of tiramisu. The waitress turns to ask the rest of the table and Harry pouts adorably.
"I wasn't done," Harry says, tapping the girl's elbow gently. The waitress turns back to Harry with an apologetic smile, her pen again poised over her pad. "Lasagna and a small portion of spaghetti with meatballs, too, please."
"Alright," the waitress chirps, turning slowly to Draco and then Neville, getting their orders. At Harry's impatient gaze she grins, "And I'll bring some garlic knots over, right away," she promises, smiling at Harry's happy smile. Poor guy must be starving. She laments the dark haired man's metabolism -he was so trim!- as she hurries off to get the garlic bread before the poor man ate the centerpiece.
Draco chuckles as he grabs Harry's hand and places a row of kisses along his knuckles. "Hungry, love?"
Harry again pouts adorably as his cheeks pink slightly. "Uhm, yeah, a little..."
Draco kisses his knuckles again before running his thumb along them in a soothing motion. "Good," he murmurs with a wink. He chuckles again when Harry practically dives on the garlic knots, the basket barely hitting the table before he pulls one out and stuffs it in his mouth with a sighing moan.
"Are you alright, Harry?" Neville asks, watching Harry curiously.
Harry swallows the bread and washes it down with his water before answering, leaning forward slightly so he doesn't have to speak very loud. "I'm fine, Nev." He makes a quick decision and looks around warily before lowering his voice even more, barely audible to Neville. "I'm pregnant." He can't help the big, pleased smile that grows on his face.
Neville blinks for a moment before grinning back, squeezing the hand on the table and awkwardly patting Draco's shoulder. "Congratulations," he says happily before his smile dims a bit and he looks to Draco with something akin to horror. "Oh bollocks," he whispers sadly.
"It's fine, well... not fine, but we're happy about it." Draco answers, a small smile on his face. "Naturally, you'll keep this to yourself?"
Neville nods emphatically. "Oh, of course." He didn't mention that he didn't really have anyone else to tell. Never one for gossip, he didn't have many people that he spoke to regularly these days, but even if he did he'd guard Harry's news. He smiles at Harry, truly pleased for his friend's joy.
Harry bounces in his seat when his antipasto is placed in front of him. "Where's my tiramisu?" he asks with a sad pout as he looks up at the waitress with soulful green eyes. He really wanted to see how the olives would taste with the sweetened mascarpone on them.
Draco snorts with amusement when the poor waitress melts visibly and coos at Harry.
"Oh sweetie, I'm sorry! I thought you wanted it after!" she says apologetically, having no idea why she's reacting this way but the poor man just looks so adorable.
"Oh," Harry says with a sigh and eagerly starts on his appetizer. "Alright, I can wait until after."
"Good," the waitress chirps, "It has to thaw a bit, anyways." With that she flits away with a promise to top off their drinks.
"Merlin, Harry," Neville laughs, holding his stomach. "You're dangerous, mate."
"What?" Harry asks innocently, chewing rapidly. He hums happily as he pops a piece of provolone wrapped with an anchovy in his mouth.
Draco and Neville share a look, amusing them both a moment later. "Nothing," Neville says, waving his hand at a thoroughly engrossed Harry. He's not surprised when Harry is wiping oil off of the empty plate with a piece of bread moments later. "So is that why you reduced your hours?"
Harry looks up and nods slowly. "Yeah, that and... well, I'd like to spend more time at home," with Draco, he doesn't add but it's clearly implied. "Plus, I really can't be in there for long without wanting to lose my lunch. I hope it won't be an imposition..."
Neville shakes head and smiles at Harry. "Not at all, Harry." At Harry's returning smile, he looks down to keep himself from reacting inappropriately.
"Oh, shit," Harry mutters and squirms in his seat. "If she comes with my lasagna, cover it!" Harry instructs and hops up from the table, making his way quickly towards the bathroom.
"Is he OK?" Neville asks, anxiously watching Harry's retreating form.
"Yeah, just... you know," Draco says, waving a hand. He looks steadily at Neville, easily gaining his attention with a firm gaze. "Look, I'm sorry I was such a bastard. I didn't mean to push you and Harry apart," he laughs and shakes his head, "Well, I did but it was a stupid thing to do."
Neville just nods, stunned to be getting what amounted to an honest and heart felt apology from the blonde. "Alright..."
"I don't wish for Harry to dwell on what might have been and miss out on your relationship," Draco adds, his eyes searching for a returning Harry. "Promise me you'll look after him?" he says earnestly, the hand resting on the table clenched tightly.
"I will," Neville agrees quickly, realizing what the blonde is asking of him. Even if not in the ways he'd hope, he'd never abandon Harry -and now his child- and he's suddenly overcome that Draco would seek him out. He could hug Draco for what he's doing but he settles on holding out his hand for a shake. Draco wraps his around Neville's with a wry smile. "You've my word."
"Good, good. I also wish to... well, I suppose get along with you. I don't wish there to be friction between us. It'll just make things awkward and hard on Harry."
Neville nods eagerly, his eyes flicking to Harry as he heads back to the table. "Of course," he agrees again. He's not sure what the glint in Draco's eye means, but he's sure he'll find out in time. He's just overjoyed to be close to Harry again. He's missed his friend, the scant hours they shared weekly in the shop weren't adequate at all. Their food comes and he stifles a laugh at Harry's wide-eyed joy. The waitress giggles and refills their basket with garlic knots before bouncing away again.