Title: A Star is Born
Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, and Scorpius. I own a silly idea involving her characters.
Rating: T or PG-13. If anyone thinks it should be upped to M let me know, but I don't see any reason for it.
Pairing: Draco/Harry
Warnings: Sexual innuendo, slash, language, and MPreg.
Summary: Harry and Draco are having a baby, but it's not easy. MPreg.
A/N: This is my first ever MPreg! :D Please review!
"I feel fat."
"You're not fat, Baby," Harry rushed to reassure his husband, knowing how volatile his hormones were. If he didn't convince Draco he was still plenty attractive the odds were that Draco would burst into tears and end up screaming at him.
Personally, he found this pregnancy to be just as hard on him as it was on Draco, though he'd never share that little tidbit with the blond. He liked his bollocks, thankyouverymuch.
He smoothed blond hair back from Draco's forehead, carding his fingers through it. Draco sighed. Grey eyes met green with a tired smile.
"Harry, my feet hurt. They're so bloody swollen."
"Would you like a foot rub?" Harry knew that that was what the blond was angling for.
"Well, since you offered…" Draco lifted his feet. Harry sat at the other end of the couch and took both of Draco's feet in his lap. He began to rub, thinking ruefully how incredibly good he'd gotten at this, while Draco sighed. He moaned and made small contented sounds of pleasure that went straight to Harry's groin, but he couldn't do anything about it because he had to finish rubbing Draco's feet and sex was off the table this late in the pregnancy; with male pregnancies it just wasn't safe, the Healer had explained to them at the last visit.
So Draco lay there with his head thrown back on the cushions, making unconsciously erotic noises while Harry swallowed hard, adjusted his seating posture rather painfully, and continued rubbing his husband's feet.
Yep, he was right; this stage of the pregnancy was every bit as hard on him as on Draco.
Later that night they were sleeping together and Draco was, as usual, rolling around and around trying to get comfortable and nearly pushing Harry off the bed. Harry bit his tongue and tried not to think of how tired he was going to be at work tomorrow, and just waited patiently for Draco to get comfortable.
Except that Draco never got comfortable. He let out a strangled cry, a long keening sound, and when he finally stopped he started sobbing. "Harry, I think I'm in labour," he gasped.
Harry froze. A million things ran through his mind at once and he could concentrate on none of them. He had no idea what to do despite the fact that they had been prepared for weeks. He sat there, staring, wide eyed and frantic, trying to remember how to breathe.
Draco let out another cry, and this time it motivated him to get up and move. "It's okay, babe; it's gonna be okay," he chanted, rubbing Draco's back before he rushed to the closet and grabbed the suitcase from inside.
Draco was crying, and every few minutes he would seize up and let out a strangled-sounding wail. "At least he's breathing out on the contractions," thought Harry, though he didn't dare voice it.
"It's alright, babe, it's alright." He smiled reassuringly and Draco screamed at him demanding to know what he was so damn happy about; didn't he care that Draco was being split in two here?
"Come on, Hunny, up you go," said Harry, helping Draco to his feet. Draco cursed at him and would have hexed him if Harry hadn't already taken his wand. Together they made their way to the Floo, where Harry prepared to Floo them to St. Mungo's for Draco's C-Section.
They arrived and there was much hustle and bustle – after all, it wasn't every day that the Saviour of the Wizarding World showed up to have a baby. Eight years after the war, and Harry was still plagued by his celebrity.
They rushed into the operating room, where the healers had Harry don a gown, cap, and a hair cap, covering his messy black hair.
He coached Draco on his breathing until the epidural took hold, and Draco wasn't in so much pain anymore. Harry waited with bated breath, holding Draco's hand.
A high thin cry pierced the air, and the healers announced, "It's a boy!"
Draco started crying again, and Harry started sniffling with him. After a few moments, the healers brought a little bundle over to Harry and placed it in his arms. The tiny squalling person he held was utterly beautiful, Harry thought, with his shock of white-blond hair, and big grey eyes, just like his Daddy's.
"Guess there's nothing of me in him," thought Harry, a trifle sad at the thought, but it was quickly pushed down by the intense joy of the little bundle he held.
"Can I see?" Draco asked eagerly. Harry obliged, bringing their baby over to Draco and holding him where Draco could see.
"Scorpius," murmured Draco, and Harry grimaced, but said nothing. After all, he'd agreed to it, however much he disliked it, because Draco had been adamant. "Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy-Potter," murmured Draco with some satisfaction. Harry fought the urge to groan.
"Our poor boy," he thought morosely. But his gloominess simply couldn't last in the face of the wonder he held, and he found himself smiling once more.
Later on they sat in their private room, while Harry fed Scorpius his bottle. Draco dozed, and Harry smiled, watching him in something like awe. He couldn't believe that they had created a life together, much less that that life had been carried and nurtured by Draco's body for almost nine months, and was now resting in his arms. He looked at Scorpius, and his sense of awe increased.
He stood carefully, and walked over to Draco's bedside. Dropping a kiss on Draco's lips, he whispered, "I love you, and I'm so proud of you, Draco."
"You too," murmured Draco. "Love you, too. And Harry?"
"Hmm?"
"I'm proud of you, too."