Raising Men
Chapter One: Have You Tried Getting A Plant?
AN: Er, okay. This is the first Harry Potter fanfic I've posted. I enjoyed writing it. This wont be mpreg. It will be slash. There's your warning.
"But how do we know we're ready?"
"How do we know we're not?"
"Because we're completely at a loss when it comes to children. Neither of us knows anything about them." Draco Malfoy argued. Really, two men such as themselves, with their flavourful backgrounds, raising a child together?
"Neither of us knew anything about each other either and look how this turned out," Harry Potter fired back, frowning at his life partner. "And I do know some things. I've babysat Teddy and Victoire and Rose."
Draco scoffed. "Oh yes, that makes such a difference. Watching someone else's kid on a few scattered nights compared to being responsible for it full time? Why they're practically the same thing!"
"Don't be so sarcastic! I'm trying to be serious." Harry growled, turning his back and walking to the closet door. He braced himself against it, refusing to look at the blond.
"I am too," pouted Draco. "We can barely keep a plant alive." He gestured toward the plant on the bureau. It was looking rather pale and withered, its soil dull with roots poking out the bottom.
"It's a little harder to ignore a baby then it is a plant that doesn't make any noise." Harry replied, going to the plant and using his wand to water it. It almost sighed under the deluge of water.
"If that was all it took, we could have got a talking one!" Draco exclaimed, exasperated with the whole situation.
Harry looked at him in shock. "There are talking plants?"
He very nearly clapped his hand to his forehead. "That's beside the point."
"No, it isn't. A talking one would have bothered us until we took care of it." Harry explained, his eyes wide at the realization. "This is your fault for not telling me."
"Of for Merlin's sake! There are no talking plants!" Draco exploded, stalking form the room and the imbecile that made him question his sanity. Why on earth did he choose to stay with such a complete lackwit who knew nothing about the world he'd lived in for the past eighteen years?
"Then why did you tell me there were?" Harry demanded, following him into their small kitchen.
"It's called sarcasm. I use it a lot." Draco informed him, looking at him like he was a three-year-old. "In fact, you accused me of it not five minutes ago." He received a glare for his further efforts in the sport.
"Really, I'd never have guessed," Harry mocked, eyes narrowed. He stalked to the coldroom and pulled out a slab of saran-wrapped meat. He guessed it was steak and hoped he was right. When it was frozen, meat all looked the same to him.
Grabbing the package, Draco returned it to the room and pulled out the actual steaks. "Finally, you're getting it. And you can even use it on your own." Draco crowed, placing the meat in front of Harry on the counter top. Harry nodded at him.
"Teaching me bad habits, that's something to be proud of," Harry scowled, setting his wand to defrosting the meat.
"You had plenty of those on your own," Draco pointed out, fishing around in a cabinet for the pale of potatoes they kept there. Lugging it out, he hauled it onto the table. Sorting through it, he found four perfect potatoes. Placing them in the sink, he ran cold water over them, then set a stiff brush to rub them clean.
"So? You didn't need to add to them then," Harry shot, placing the thawed steaks into a non-stick frying pan. He lit the fire magically and watched as Draco placed the potatoes on the middle rack of their hearth. Casually he set that fire as well, ignoring the indignant 'hey!'
Snorting, Draco responded, "You do realize what you just said, don't you?" He crossed his arms over his chest and waited for Harry to think it over.
Harry flushed. "Shut up." Spinning he began to ruffle through the contents of a shelf until he found the box of sliced mushrooms he was looking for. Grabbing it, he also found the olive oil. Putting both items on the counter, he summoned a skillet and placed some oil in it. He started heating it.
"That's another bad habit. Turning away from a fight." Draco gathered up garlic cloves and a sharp knife. Over a cutting board he sliced and diced quickly and efficiently.
"Really? I thought that was your forte." Returning to his steaks he flipped them over, glad they hadn't started to burn. He was want to set the fire to too high a temperature. He was always getting scolded for it.
Draco hummed and added the mushrooms and garlic to the oil. Picking out a tune, he stirred the mixture slowly, watching the process of caramelization start.
"Oh, ignoring me know are you? So mature," Harry muttered, flipping the steaks again. He set them back on the grill and moved to the fire place. The potatoes were browning nicely. They'd soon be done, he figured. He moved them around a little, making sure they weren't sticking to the bars.
Humming a little louder Draco removed his skillet from the flame and waved the fire out. Placing it back where it was, he covered it to keep the sauteed mushrooms warm. He did the same with the steaks Harry had left. They had started burning slightly, but that was easily scrapped off.
Next he summoned plates and flatware, glasses and napkins. He marched them into the dining room where they placed themselves in front of four of the six chairs. He banished the other two extra to the attic for the duration. Skirting the edge of the table, he made sure the pristine white table cloth hung evenly on all sides, that the snow-white plates where placed right, the heavy, highly polished silver cutlery was straight and in the right line up. Holding up each crystal wine glass, he made sure they shined to perfection. He had just declared everything satisfactory when Harry called out from the kitchen.
"Know what song your humming?"
Freezing. Draco let the last notes echo around him. Oh, crap! He moaned.
"That's right. It's our song!" Harry gloated, sending in the mushrooms and carrying the steaks in himself.
"Shut up!" Draco demanded.
"See, there's your old turncoat instinct coming out again!" Giggling Harry placed the final slice of meat on the last plate and circled to watch Draco dip his spoon into the pan and carefully poor out a decent amount of mushrooms on top of each steak.
"Grow up, Harry," Draco sighed. "See. This is exactly why we can't have kids."
"No, we can't have kids because we're both male." Harry corrected as they both went back into the kitchen. Harry nixed the fire on the hearth and split open each potato before sending it onto the waiting plates. He placed magical domes over each one so they stayed warm. Meanwhile, Draco started frosting a marble cake with dark chocolate frosting, which would add to the chocolate gel that sat between the two layers.
"You are a prat." Draco rolled his eyes. He was well aware that they both had the lack of feminine organs that made them men. He was quite all right with that fact. The thought of men having babies . . . he shuddered. Or Merlin forbid, one of them being a girl.
"You love me anyway." Harry stated arrogantly. He had retrieved a loaf of garlic bread from the pantry and started slicing it thickly.
"Sometimes I wonder," he murmured.
"I heard that," Harry warned.
"Who said you weren't supposed to?" Draco looked up, blinking innocent grey eyes.
"Jerk."
"Again this is why we aren't ready for kids." Draco tried again.
"Because we call each other names?" Harry asked, nearly cutting his finger off as he watched Draco lick the icing off his finger. "Dammit!"
"Watch yourself Harry. I have uses for those fingers." He winked and finished the cake off with a dollop of whipped cream and a strawberry,
"And that's appropriate while we're talking about our future kids?" he wondered, shoving the bread into a basket with a green napkin to match the others.
Draco covered the cake from pesky bugs. "Actually, I think it is." He smirked.
Harry caught on. "Get over yourself. That isn't what I meant and you know it."
"Maybe. Yet you have to see this kind of immature banter isn't going to stop anytime soon. It's what we do." Draco faced Harry head on, staring him in the eye.
"A baby wouldn't know what was going on until it was pretty old!"
"See, you don't even know how old a baby starts to talk or understand things!"
"I do too!" Harry's nose flared.
"Oh yeah? Prove it!"
The challenge issued from Draco's mouth just as Hermione and Ron Weasley poked their heads through the doorway.
"Prove what, mate?" Ron looked at Harry and then to Draco.
"That he knows-" Draco attempted to explain only to have Harry interrupt. He glared at him again, still to no avail.
Crossing swiftly to Hermione, Harry looked at her so solemnly she'd thought someone had died. He whispered, "Hermione, how old do most kids talk and understand it?"
Brows furrowed in curiosity, she whispered back, "It's different for every baby, but usually between two and five years of age."
"Thank you." He mouthed and turned back to Draco, who was watching him intently. "I can prove it. Between two and five!" he whooped proudly.
"Harry, you idiot. I just watched you ask Hermione that!" Draco shook his head. "And that's another reason. You're childish too."
"The child would be too, so we'd be evenly matched." Harry raised his chin.
"I won't be rasing two children." Draco said firmly.
"Given your way, you wouldn't even raise one!" Harry was pouting now.
Ron and Hermione looked between each other and the pair before them. They were completely confused.
"What are you two fighting over now? What child?" Hermione inquired, understanding, at least, that they were arguing about a kid. Whose kid and where it had come from, well, who was to say? Those two were notorious for the trouble they led home like stray dogs.
"The one we're having," Harry said it so simply and without hesitation that it shocked her into silence.
"You're having a baby?" The only thing she could think of was: How? Harry nodded.
"Hold on a minute." Draco stepped forward and raised his hands. "We aren't having a baby. Just discussing the option of it."
"You were the only one discussing it. I'm already decided." Harry gave him a look that said he wasn't backing down from the issue. Neither was Draco.
"I noticed that." he said dryly. Harry stuck his tongue out at him.
"When did this come about?" Ron asked, hoping to avoid further disruption to his supper. Harry and Draco always prepared such good meals.
"Today."
"Last week."
Draco and Harry glared at each other. If looks could kill. . . .
"Oaky," Ron decided he'd keep his mouth shut until they were served their food. Then he'd have to open it to eat.
"Why are you against it?" Hermione directed the question at Draco who didn't remove his eyes from where they were locked on Harry.
"Do you honestly think we're ready for kids?" he responded in disbelief. "Half the time you come over here we're 'discussing' something."
Knowing 'discussing' and 'arguing' were pseudonyms, Hermione nodded in agreement. "Perhaps a baby would . . . bring you closer?" Harry's expression turned triumphant as the suggestion was voiced.
Ron was frantically trying to mentally tell his wife to not get involved.
"No. I don't. Not now. We're both too set in our bickering ways." Draco shook his head again.
"Bickering isn't such a bad thing," Hermione acknowledged. "And you are almost thirty.
"Twenty-eight is not almost thirty." Draco raised his nose in the air.
"Fine, fine. I don't know why I bother." Hermione raised her shoulders in defeat.
"Hermione," Harry drew out her name, a pleading light in his eyes. "Please, isn't there anything you can do to help us?" Even Draco was okay with something to bring them to a happy medium.
She thought and thought, chewing her lip, ruining her pink gloss in the process. It tasted like mangos, she noticed absently, which was funny because she thought it was called Candy Apple Clouds. Ron fretted behind her, worrying about the food getting cold with no one there to eat it.
Harry and Draco stood with batted breath, both wondering if it would be the end to their impasse or a bogus attempt to calm them down.
Finally she smiled. "Have you tried looking after a plant together?"
They groaned. "Yes, and you should see how that turned out." Draco washed a hand over his face. "If it had been a talking one," Harry trailed off, quelled at the look his boyfriend sent him.
"A talking plant? Honestly, Harry," Hermione closed her head and thought harder. When she opened them again she was lit up like a Christmas tree covered in fairy lights. "If you've already done the plant, then the next step is to get a pet!"
"A pet?" Draco, Harry and Ron asked incredulously.
"Are you serious?" Draco scoffed.
"How will that help?" Harry wondered.
"Have you been in George's special brownies again?" Ron asked, half serious.
"Yes I am. It's more demanding then a plant and requires more. No, I have not, Ronald, how could you even suggest such a thing?" Hermione rounded on each man in turn, bearing down on her husband. "He'd better not have any more special brownies or I'll tell Molly." She threatened.
They gulped.
"I'm sure he doesn't Herm, I was only joking." Ron backpedalled fast.
Studying each other, the paired off men thought and communicated on a plateau they never had before. Could a pet really help them? It would push of having a baby, but it would give them something to look after, and Harry a way to prove to Draco that they could care for a child. They nodded. They'd look into it, anyway.
Stepping into action, they once again surprised the Weasley's. "Take that bread and put it on the table, Harry. I'll get the wine." Striding from the room, Draco entered the wine cellar and withdrew a bottle.
When he returned, he poured everyone a glass and removed the spell on the plates. "Bless Merlin," The chorused and dug in, chatting about recent events and who was looking after their daughter, Rose.
Next to each other, Harry and Draco felt closer then ever, and if one of them had been right-handed and the other left, they would have held hands. They'd talk about it more later but they were sure they were on the right path again. This pet idea was a good one.
AN: So there it is. Enjoy it?
Dislaimer: (This is to stretch for the entire story) I do not own any recognizable characters, locations or plots of the Harry Potter universe. Anything that isn't recognizable either belongs to someone else or is of my own creation.
MaraHeart.