Disclaimer: Since I didn't own anything the last time I posted, and it hasn't really been that long since then, I think it's safe to assume that Harry Potter and all associated characters and situations and things belong to J.K. Rowling. I still make no money from this, and remain, as always, dirt poor. Also, I'm just as notoriously horrid at titles as I always have been.

Warnings: Oneshot. Mpreg, slash (meaning hot, sweaty man-sex), domestic fluff, strange cravings, pregnancy cliches, OOC Lucius.

A/N: Hi! I'm alive! I know it's been about two years since I last posted, but I've started college! and work! and bills! and other horrid adult things that murder creativity and free time. But I'm back now and I've decided the first of the many fics I've been working on that I wanted to release was this one, because I think it's cute and I've recently been struck with baby-fever and I needed an outlet for it and I really needed a break from all the incest and torture I've been writing lately. For those of you eagerly awaiting more incest and torture, rest assured. It's coming, really really soon, I just want to thoroughly develop at least a plan for my chapter fics before I put them out. Hopefully this will hold you over until then?

"Luc? Luci, baby, are you awake?"

Lucius Potter-Malfoy ran a hand down his face before slowly cracking open his bloodshot eyes. He abhorred nicknames, almost as much as his husband loved to give them.

"Yes, baby. What can I do?" Casting a discreet Tempus, he sighed internally. 4:26 am, and this was the third time Harry had woken up that night. He rolled over, attempting to keep his composure, giving Harry his full attention.

"My shoulders hurt. And I'm so hungry. Can you get me some fish sticks? And fudge dip? And then… maybe rub my back, please?"

Lucius wondered absently what fish sticks were as he rose slowly from the bed, doing a remarkable impression of an Inferi. When Harry had told him he was pregnant those 4 months ago, he'd been ecstatic. As much as he loved his son, he'd easily be the first to admit that Draco was a spoiled little shit.

And, he had thought happily, this time he'd be completely involved in the pregnancy, and in raising his child. By the time Narcissa had gotten pregnant, they'd absolutely hated each other, and she'd spent as much time as possible cloistered in her wing, holed up with the Zabini Hag and the Bulstrode Bitch.

Running into at least three walls and a desk before stubbing his pinky toe on some bloody baby swing Harry had been attempting to put together- sans magique- before they retired to bed, Lucius finally stumbled his way into the kitchen area, collapsing into a chair and cursing as loudly as he dared in six different languages. What a naïve fool he'd been, thinking this would be some wonderful journey of rainbows and sunshine.

Having made the clearly dangerous trek down to the kitchen, Lucius groaned as he realized he could have just called a house-elf from the bedroom. He did so then, telling the funny little creature Harry's bizarre request, and deciding, seeing as he'd already walked all the way down there, to wait for it and bring it up himself.

He thought back to the last appointment they'd had with the Healer. Healer Addison had informed them that Harry was about fourteen weeks along and carrying, not one, oh no, not two, but three healthy little bundles of joy, which explained his mood swings and cravings having started so early. The Healer had warned that Harry might experience trouble sleeping, various body aches and pains, and a rather constant need to visit the loo. Lucius had hardly been listening to the kindly witch, so overjoyed was he.

Malfoy's never had multiple births, and certainly not triplets!

Lucius was brought back to the present by the rather nauseating mixed aroma of fried fish drizzled by warm chocolate, and wondered not for the first time what the bloody hell was going on in Harry's brain. Absently thanking Winky and casting a bubble charm around the putrid concoction, he walked carefully back up the stairs and through the various corridors into their bed chambers.

Setting the food down onto a table in the sitting room, he went through the attached door to their bedroom, only to find Harry sleeping peacefully, Lucius' pillow resting under Harry's extended belly.

Lucius sighed and turned back to the table to cast warming and preserving charms on the food before gliding across the room and sliding into bed. He sighed once more, sinking gratefully into the loving embrace of their indulgently plush mattress. Perhaps now he could get some rest.

"Lu? Did you get it?"

oOoOoOo

Harry Potter-Malfoy was generally a happy guy. He had a wonderful husband, a lovely home, fantastic friends, and not a single, crazy, half-snake megalomaniac out for his blood.

Sure, he had a whiny brat of a son-in-law, who delighted in constantly reminding his new papa that he was, in fact, a month and twenty-five days older than him. Perhaps he still had a few insane Death Eaters attempting to use his hairs to resurrect the Dark Lord. And maybe he'd found several reporters digging through his trash cans, and one attempting to climb through his plumbing. He could handle all of that. Honestly, it provided some excitement, seeing as he'd passed up Auror training for starting up an herb shop with Neville.

All in all, though, he had a pretty fantastic life.

However, at the moment, Harry was not a chipper man. His feet ached, his back burned, and his shoulders seemed forever knotted into a Boy Scout's nightmare. He was always hungry, always tired, and always, always, always had to pee. His three little buns of happiness were clearly readying for Beater tryouts upon entry to the world, as made obvious by the abuse they were constantly raining on his poor, defenseless organs. Not to mention that his husband was still at the Ministry doing… whatever ministerial things he tended to do whilst there, and he was bored. It was already half seven, and he and Neville closed the shop early on Wednesdays.

Not only that, but he was uncontrollably horny. He wanted Lucius' dick in his mouth and he wanted it now.

Glancing at the Weasley-esque clock on the wall, he saw that Lucius was in his office, alone, and grinning, waddled as hurriedly as possible to the fireplace. He awkwardly shifted so as to not press his stomach against the hearth, knowing from experience that his babies weren't at all fond of feeling sharp rock edges pressing into their momma's belly.

He grabbed the Floo Powder, tossing some into the fire, before he realized that getting into the fireplace was going to be an issue.

He tried backing into it, dipping his shoulders, and only managed to tangle his hair in the grate.

He tried stepping in, hips thrusted forwards, but ended up bumping his tummy against the mantle, and receiving a few kicks and a shove for his effort.

He tried about eighteen more positions, and the sight of his husband kneeling with one leg extended toward the Floo and an arm hooked around the side was what Lucius found himself looking at as he set his cloak into the arms of the waiting house-elf at the door.

Lucius, unable to contain his mirth, chuckled loudly, starling Harry into releasing the fireplace and falling straight onto his arse.

Harry turned his head towards his love's laughing form, a scowl settling onto his face. He wobbled back and forth a few times, trying to create enough momentum to get himself up with at least a semblance of dignity.

Finally on his feet, he stood in front of Lucius, arms folded and foot tapping as the man continued to laugh, doubled over at the waist and practically snorting in his good humor.

"I'm… sorry, love. You just looked so… funny!" he wheezed out, still shaking as he tried to pull himself together.

Harry's scowl deepened as he turned his back on the blond. Here he was, still hornier than Pansy Parkinson on the new moon, and he was going to have to cut Lucius off in punishment. His day was looking bleaker and bleaker.

Lucius, sensing the thoughts flickering through his brunet's mind, quickly slipped behind him, placing gentle kisses up his neck before sucking harshly on his earlobe. Harry moaned deeply, internally rejoicing that he didn't have to initiate contact. This way he could still claim resistance.

Lucius, having cast a discreet, nonverbal lightening charm, swept Harry up into his arms, smiling as Harry beamed at him, for once not feeling like a bloated Erumpent.

Arriving in their bedroom, Lucius laid Harry down, carefully hovering over his stomach so as not to squish the precious cargo. He craned his neck down, pressing sweet kisses onto Harry's full, pink lips.

Harry, already quite impatient, was having none of that. He cast a non-verbal Cushioning Charm over his stomach and, wrapping his arms tight around Lucius' neck, pulled him down flush on top of him. He delighted in the older man's gasp, leaping at the opportunity to ravish his mouth. His swirled his tongue around his husband's stroking the inside of his mouth and drowning in the taste of coffee and strawberries.

He moved his hands to Lucius' hair, gently pulling his head to the side before nibbling on that creamy pale white skin he loved so much. He moved his lips slowly up the blonde's neck, nibbling on his earlobe before whispering huskily into his ear.

"I want you tonight Lu. I want to be inside of you, baby, I want to fuck you so hard you scream. Prepare yourself for me, Lucius, I want to watch you do it."

Lucius stiffened for a quick second before moving to comply. He only ever bottomed when he had done something very wrong, and even then, Harry never asked, he only offered. He pondered it only a moment longer, before hearing an impatient hum from his very pregnant lover and hastening to fill his request.

He quickly vanished his clothes and summoned a jar of lube, getting onto his elbows and knees before coating his fingers with the slick, spicy smelling oils and plunging two fingers into his hole.

He groaned, quickly moving to three and four fingers, twisting and turning them ruthlessly before pulling them out, panting harshly and waiting for Harry to enter him.

Harry, who had been lazily stroking himself while watching Lucius' long, graceful fingers dance in and out of his arse, took his position behind his lover, swirling a finger around the loosely gasping pink hole before plunging his cock all the way in.

Lucius moaned in ecstasy, and he stilled, loving the hot, wet warmth surrounding him. He waited until he felt Lucius pressing back against him, small whimpers leaving his aristocratic mouth, then pulled himself all the way out, waiting a second before slamming back in, all the way to the hilt.

Harry smirked at the harsh breathing of his lover, moving fast and deep. He set up a brutal pace, sliding in and out of his lover at a dizzying pace, reveling in his husband's filthy groans of pleasure, wrought with strangled curses and wanton moans of Merlin, Circe, and Harry's own name. He dug his nails into the blond's arse, pulling him back as he rammed forward, relentlessly dragging his cock against the man's prostate. Lucius threw his head back in unfettered delight, long blond hair cascading down his glistening back as he panted in pure bliss. They moved together in rapture, moving and grinding and groaning and loving it.

Harry, noticing how close his husband was, wrapped one hand around Lucius' hair, pulling him back for a devouring kiss while gripping his weeping cock with the other, pulling it harshly, determined to make his lover come.

Lucius, already at the brink, exploded onto the bedsheets with a silent shudder, followed closely by Harry, overtaken by the clenching walls surrounding him.

They fell bonelessly to the bed, Lucius turning himself over lethargically before reaching over and pulling Harry to his side. Harry happily tucked his head onto the broad, muscular shoulder being offered him, humming contentedly as he melded his body to his husbands, as well as possible in any case.

He lazily released his enchantments, smirking to himself as he felt his husbands breathing slow beneath his cheek.

Now he wasn't bored, or horny!

oOoOoOo

Quickly approaching nine months and approximately the size of a teenaged Norwegian Ridgeback, Harry was just about ready for these babies to make their grand appearance.

He'd had his baby shower, he'd properly "nested" with Lucius and decorated three gender-neutral nurseries, seeing as they'd left the sexes of their babies a mystery. He'd shopped, and shopped, and shopped, and in between stores eaten enough to feed Djibouti.

He'd been banned from the shop by Neville, post having knocked over a seventeenth jar of peeled shrivelfig meant to be sent to the Apothecary in Diagon Alley with his incredible girth. Neville had smiled patiently and said he'd hire help while Harry took maternity leave, but Harry had seen the exasperated relief hidden behind his eyes as he'd cheerfully ushered Harry towards the private, much expanded Floo.

He'd long since lost the ability to see much past his knees, but that was fine since, judging by the ache in his ankles, there probably wasn't much of a sight to be seen there.

He and Lucius had had a multitude of fights over names, all generally ending in mind-blowing sex. Harry chuckled to remember the most recent one.

"Absolutely not, Lucius. I'm putting my foot down. There is absolutely no way I'd subject my precious baby boy to a name like Capricornus." Harry crossed his arms and stomped his foot, uncaring of his current resemblance to a four year old.

"Harry you are acting like a child," Lucius returned calmly, and Harry rolled his eyes. Trust Lucius to comment on the one thing he wanted him not to notice. "Malfoys always have unique names, because Malfoys are always unique."

"And look how that turned out for Draco," Harry muttered sullenly. He raised his chin and began again. "I don't care what Malfoys do. These children will be Potter-Malfoys, as we agreed when we got married. You're the one who was so concerned about the Potter name not dying out because of our union. And we agreed that one would be the Potter heir, and one the Black heir, since you have Draco to be the Malfoy heir."

"This is all correct Harry, which is why we will name one Capricornus. He shall be the Black heir, since, in general, all Blacks, bar my repugnant ex-wife, have been named after constellations and stars." Lucius stated firmly. He was rather fond of the name, seeing as his son had claimed Hyperion for his own progeny, when ever that came to fruition.

Harry sighed, sidling up to his husband and wrapping his arms around his neck. He craned his neck so as to peer up at the man. He placed a light kiss on his lips and then said, "But what if I like Marius better? Or Carina for a girl? Would you really deny me this one little thing Lucius? It would make me so very happy if we used my names instead. Please, Lu?"

Harry saw the moment his husband's will bent to his, and buried his face in his lover's neck, hiding the widening smirk on his face born from successfully manipulating the elder blond, once again.

Beyond all this, though, he was simply rather anxious to see his babies. Having simultaneously found himself gay and rather firmly attracted to one Lucius Malfoy, he'd given up all hope of a family. How was a Muggle-raised Saviour supposed to know that wizards could naturally give birth?

He had learned that fancy tidbit while telling his friends that he wasn't, in fact, marrying Ginny because he had discovered he was actually quite terrified of breasts and vaginas, and once it had become more obvious that Ginny possessed them, he found himself rather repulsed. All it had taken then were few days of denial followed closely by introspection and a wank to Quidditch Weekly. One more week, and he was seated in the Leaky Cauldron surrounded by all his favorite wizard-folk. Telling them had been surprisingly easy. It had been the joking inquiry from Ron about his use of protection that had had him unconscious on the floor.

Suffice to say, when he married Lucius Malfoy two years later, the joy of being spoken for had overshadowed that mere tidbit, and four months later, he was running to the loo faster than a naked toddler at bath time, making close friends with the john.

So, his hopes and dreams of a large family having been quickly restored, Harry found himself impatiently waiting the looming days of nappies and naptimes, of talc and baby-talk, and even pureed apple-cauliflower in a charming little jar.

He wanted his babies, and he wanted them now, and wow, but that was an oddly sharp pain, and holy shit on a stick but that hurt too, and, was that water in his trousers, or had he just gotten a tad too excited?

Pressing several charms on the bracelet Hermione had gifted him at their last weekly Leaky meet-up, he toddled frantically around in a half-circle, all of their carefully laid birth plans slipping his mind as "Merlin's Balls, it's time!" and "Where the fuck buckets is Lucius?" forcibly occupied his thoughts.

Thankfully, Winky and Elsie had also been thoroughly versed in Birth Plans 1-15, and popped into the library where their Master was currently muttering fervently about Lamaze, whatever the hell that was. They carefully ushered him to the Floo, magically enlarged, and sent him on his way to Mungo's, shaking their heads and hoping the babies didn't do too much damage to their favorite Master's sanity. Elsie popped off to grab the overnight valise, while Milly and Winky went off to nab the blond Master and the frizzy-haired friend-Healer, respectively.

Meanwhile, Harry was near-hyperventilating, and attempting to simultaneously call for Hermione and explain that he was in labor, and no, he was absolutely, most definitely not going to sign an autograph at a time like this, thank you kindly.

oOoOoOo

Hermione Jean Granger-Weasley, Specialized Birth Healer, was vexed. She was, in fact, the most practiced, most widely read Wizarding obstetrician in Great Britain, world-renowned for her work in easing the process of magical emergency births and greatly decreasing the mortality rate of both infant and birth mother/father. Knowing this, her very best friend in the entire world, bar of course her husband, had naturally been assigned her as a primary care Healer for the duration of his gestation and onward. Therefore, when he arrived at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, screaming incoherently for Hermione, she expected to be notified immediately.

No, clearly the day of November the Fourth had been declared a day for all stupidity to be unleashed, because instead of paging her Galleon, an innovation also introduced to hospital by the aforementioned brightest witch of her generation, the idiot secretaries notified the press, who, having been posted outside of Mungo's for weeks already awaiting the Savior's progeny, immediately swarmed. And if Harry hadn't already been stressed, he, of course, was now near panic, practically hyperventilating, and that simply wouldn't do.

Casting a perfect, wandless Sonorus, she cleared her throat, with a polite, "Excuse me!" Achieving a momentary silence, she continued. "The next human being to touch or address my patient without my express permission will find themselves housed in Spell Damage before they can count to six. Any person found in this lobby who is not a current or incoming patient or escorting an immediate family member will find themselves forcibly, and unpleasantly, removed within the minute. Now. I will need Mediwitch Abbot to escort Mr. Potter-Malfoy to his private room with haste. NOW, Hannah!"

The speed with which her commands were followed brought a small smile to her face as she walked over to the lift. Of course, her moment of peace couldn't last.

"Hermione! HERMIONE! Where is he? Is he okay? Oh Merlin, he must be upset, I wasn't with him, Oh I knew I should have taken holiday, Circe, what if Harry's hurt, Hermione why aren't you speaking?"

"Lucius. I will need you to first, unhand me, and secondly understand that Harry is fine, if in a bit of pain at the moment, and that I am going to need to go to his room and attend to the birth of your children now, if you don't mind. You, may, however, follow me into wash-up so that we can begin."

Silently thanking Merlin for her calm disposition and obvious adroitness at the looming task, Lucius quietly followed along as Hermione walked briskly into the lift, intoning, "Magical Pregnancies" and waiting as the lift whooshed them to their desired destination. A pleasant acoustic version of the latest Weird Sisters hit filled the silence, yet Lucius still found himself nearly vibrating with nerves. As the lift announced their arrival, he bustled in behind Hermione, practically breathing down her neck in anticipation of seeing his husband and children. Hermione indulgently rolled her eyes, checking her Galleon to see that Harry had been placed in Room Eight, and that the adjoining wash-up was prepped with the spells necessary to accommodate both her and Lucius.

She turned to her tag-a-long and smiled patiently, saying, "Now. Before we enter the room, we will need to be sterilized in the Wash-Up, which is equipped with various Cleansing Charms that you may or may not be familiar with. Do not be alarmed, as the charms are extremely thorough, and out to leave you with a very fresh, faintly minty feeling all over. Are you ready?" Lucius nodded exuberantly before following Hermione into the room, squirming a bit as the charms scrubbed under his arms and around his bits. He did feel surprisingly fresh, and suspiciously calmed, though at the sight of his Harry red in the face and yelling, he lost a bit of his aforementioned aplomb.

"Harry, baby, I'm here, baby, I'm here, it's okay we're gonna get through this," he murmured as he rushed to the curious raised bed spread on which his husband lay. He grasped his hand and smoothed back sweat-drenched black locks only to gasp in pain and slight terror as bloodshot green eyes shot to his, scowling, and a death-grip clenched and ground the bones of his hand together.

"Lucius," Harry intoned with a scary calm, "I promise you that if you EVER COME NEAR ME WITH THAT GORGEOUS COCK OF YOURS AGAIN I WILL RIP IT OFF, DIP IT IN GOLD AND WEAR IT AS A NECKLACE YOU SORRY PRICK THIS IS YOUR FAULT I SWEAR I'M GOING TO KILL YOU WHEN THIS IS OVER ooohhh-" Harry cut off with a tortured groan, and Hermione, previously watching the exchange with an amused, over-indulgent grin, saw her opportunity to step forward and take over.

"Hello, Harry dear," she sang pleasantly, "If you're about ready I'm going to go ahead and get those precious little tykes out of you. Now would you prefer a natural birth, or would you like a wizarding caescarian? I know we discussed this before but you hadn't seemed to have come to a conclusion the last time we spoke." Harry turned pleading eyes to his best friend and cried, "Oh 'Mione the caesarian, please, just finish this as soon as possible!"

With that, Hermione and the attending Mediwizards, bustled around the bed, standing in their predetermined spots in preparation for the procedure. Hermione, pulling her wand out of the sleeve of her Healer's robes, cast a localized numbing charm on Harry's lower abdomen, then clearly intoned a spell to make the abdomen and uterine walls transparent. She turned to her apprentice, Mediwitch Abbott, and gestured for her to perform the next spell, which was to make the aforementioned barriers pliant enough for Hermione to reach in and remove the babies.

Seeing that Hannah had correctly performed the spell, Hermione cast one last barrier charm to layer her hands in a thin, glove like film, and then dove in to retrieve the first baby. Slipping one hand underneath the body of the child up to cradle the neck, and the other under it's head from the other side, she slowly lifted up, careful not to jostle Harry's abdominal muscles too much. She pulled the baby up, gratified to hear it's automatic first sounds, and passed it off to Mediwizard Macdougal, who declared the baby a boy, and held him steady as he lightly thrashed, so Hannah could tie and cut the umbilical cord with a gentle Severing Charm. Macdougal then placed the baby in a specialized Bubble Charm, inside which he was cleansed, weighed and measured, a calm voice not unlike that which manned the lifts rattled off the baby's clean bill of health, weight and length, which was copied down dutifully by Mediwitch Greengrass. They then turned to repeat the process on the remaining two babies, a girl, and another boy, as well as the placenta, whilst Lucius could be heard in the background quietly detailing the procedure in awe to a docile, slightly drugged Harry.

When it was all over, and Hermione had set Harry's now flat stomach back to rights, and checked over her perfect little godchildren herself, she silently expanded the bed so that Lucius could climb up into with Harry, the look of complete awe and love never leaving his eyes. Smiling, as this was her favorite part of every birth, she asked quietly, "Would you two like to meet your babies?"

Harry perked up as much as he could, holding his arms out as if to receive all three at once. Hermione chuckled, plucking their firstborn out of his BirthBubble and passing him to Harry, who broke into a heartbreaking grin. "Look at our firstborn Lu! Look at how beautiful he is!" Lucius could only nod in agreement, cooing nonsense at the tiny little bundle cradled in his perfect husband's arms.

"Good morning James Sirius. Welcome to the world, my precious baby boy!" Harry cooed, lightly brushing his finger over acorn-sized palms. Lucius smiled, loving the name for the sandy blond-haired Potter Heir. He held his arms out for baby James, and Harry passed him over, not before placing a delicate little kiss on each of his cherubic cheeks. Harry reached out to receive their only girl, and looked to Lucius, who he knew had wanted desperately for a girl. Lucius, grinned, taking in the delicate black wisps and the bright blue eyes he was sure would lighten to grey over time.

"Good morning Carina Aurelia, my beautiful girl," he sighed, knowing this he was already wrapped around this baby's finger. He accepted her as well with a kiss, shifting her sleeping older brother over to one arm.

"And Good morning Marius Jonquil, my lovely youngest son!" Harry cried joyfully, taking in the precious red hair of the boy who'd one day take on the Black family legacy. He shed a small tear, seeing the famed locks of his mother reflected in his youngest, and thanking the Fates for the tribute to the woman he owed his very existence.

He turned to Lucius, who carefully leaned over a first kissed his husbands rosy lips, and then the sparkling tears from the corners of his eyes.

"Look at our family, Lu!"

FINITE

A/N: I may be convinced to write an epilogue of sorts, but as far as I'm concerned, this particular oneshot is finished! Any errors are all mine, feel free to let me know if you find them! Review, my lovelies! Review!