Disclaimer: I own nothing except the plot. The characters, setting etc all belong to JK Rowling.

A/N: This is, to my knowledge, an original idea of mine. (Save the basic idea taken from The Parent Trap) If the plot or storyline is a copy of yours (one that is already published), then let me know, and amends will be made.

Also, this is a slash fic, Harry and Draco slash. It is rated M for sex and language. If you find this offensive, then don't read. To everyone else, enjoy reading and please review!

Title: The Parent Trap

Summary: Harry, Draco and a pair of irresistibly cute twins who are separated before they can speak. Its The Parent Trap meets Harry Potter! Post Voldemort and mpreg. R&R.

Prologue

Harry gazed at the sight before him, his heart swelling with pride. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"They're gorgeous, aren't they?" Hermione murmured from beside him.

Harry nodded, not quite trusting himself to speak. Hermione smiled. "What are you going to name them?"

"Damien and Jake," he said almost immediately, blushing slightly at Hermione's raised eyebrow. "I've been thinking of this ever since Voldemort died," he mumbled. Hermione nodded slowly, and then shifted somewhat uneasily. Harry turned to her, finally tearing his gaze from the twins. "Are you feeling quite alright?" He asked, frowning slightly. Years of being around each other had only enhanced their knowledge of each other; even the subtlest message could be conveyed across by mere body language.

"He can ask for them at any moment," she replied quietly.

Harry's face crumpled unexpectedly. "That was a chance I took," he muttered, looking away. Hermione reached out and gently squeezed his hand. "Look at me, Harry," she paused, waiting for him to turn and face her. He reluctantly complied, frowning slightly as he did so. "They're twins," she said slowly. "No one knows but us." She waited for it to sink it, for the opportunity to present itself in Harry's mind. Not to her complete surprise, Harry only stared back at her blankly.

"There are two of them, when everyone else thinks there is only one," she paused, searching for the right words. She wanted to encourage Harry to make a decision for himself, even if it was not necessarily the right thing to do. "You've done what others expected of you all your life. It's about time you thought about what you want for yourself."

Harry blinked. Hermione stared at him expectantly, doing her best to keep her expression blank.

"Everyone else thinks there is only one," he repeated perplexedly. Hermione nodded impatiently. He frowned. "But you did all those tests even before I gave birth." Hermione shrugged. "No one had any reason to think that there were twins, and I saw no reason for enlightening them."

Harry's eyebrows shot up. "He doesn't know either," he breathed, his eyes full of hope. Hermione smiled slightly. Her smile faltered, however, as he abruptly shook his head. "I can't do what you want me to, Mione. I can't separate them," he bit his lip. "It won't be fair to him, either."Hermione shook her head. "He's going to ask for them soon enough. They will still be too young to properly experience even half of the loss that you're going to suffer from when the time comes for you to give them up. And he will be none the wiser." She paused, taking a breath. "I made up my mind the moment I knew that you were carrying twins. You've got to do it, Harry, for your own good."

Harry stared at her, not quite believing what he was hearing. "And if they find out?" he asked quietly. "They will never forgive me."

Hermione eyed him critically. "Trust me, Harry. I've thought about this for a long time now." She smiled. "I have to go now; two new patients just arrived at the hospital this morning. I'll bring Ron along the next time I visit," she promised, and in the next moment, she had Apparated.

Harry turned back to the twins, a thousand different thoughts running through his head. All he really wanted was a family to call his own, he thought. He had waited long enough, but it seemed as if no one was willing to love him for anything more than the savior of the wizarding world. When Hermione had suggested this, he could barely believe his luck. The idea of giving birth to his own children was all the more appealing. The only irony was that this mysterious stranger, the father of his children and to whom he would be eternally grateful to, would one day rob him of the very gift that he had bestowed upon him.

Draco Malfoy sat in his favourite plush armchair, a glass of his favourite wine in hand, and brooded. He lifted his wineglass and took a sip, closing his eyes in satisfaction as he tasted the burgundy liquid. Then he opened his eyes and continued brooding. He was brooding because there was nothing else for him to do, really. His parents were busy with their social gatherings, which he had no interest in. Ever since Harry Potter – he wrinkled his nose in derisiveness as he thought of him – ever since Harry Potter had killed the Dark Lord a year ago, his own name had been cleared when Dumbledore vouched for him as a spy for The Order. He took another sip from his wineglass, scowling as he thought of his sudden popularity in the wizarding world. Apparently, now that he had the old coot's backing, not to mention the lack of the Dark Mark on his arm – he was the new Gilderoy Lockhart, almost. He tilted his wineglass, draining the rest of the liquid in it.

He swirled the empty glass, and it refilled instantly. His scowl deepened when he thought of the remaining Death Eaters. They were constantly at the Malfoy Manor, begging for a word of renouncement from the Malfoys, or a backing from Dumbledore. Not that his parents gave in, of course. Theirs was a game that they had perfected a long time ago. All their social gatherings were merely a means of reinforcing their status. He smirked when he thought of the countless invitations that had come flooding in during the recent months. He liked the attention, but he hated the obsession that teenage witches and wizards had with his looks. Some of the older witches were no better, he thought with a shudder. He idly wondered how it would affect his reputation if word got out that he was gay, and smiled to himself. It would probably only increase their obsession. Forbidden fruit did taste the sweetest, after all.

A tapping on the window broke his train of thought. He looked up in anticipation, his expression turning serious as he got up to open the window for his favourite owl. She nipped his hand affectionately as he stroked her silken feathers, gently retrieving the letter that she had brought. He sank back into his armchair, his fingers trembling ever so slightly as he opened the letter. He read it nervously, his heart thumping quickly in his chest. He let out a sigh of relief when he finished reading it, then went to his desk and took out a quill, his reply already memorized so that he had finished writing it in a matter of minutes. Before he could change his mind, he had already sent his reply, this time with a different owl. There was no need to arouse suspicion.

He sat somewhat slumped at his desk, a thousand thoughts running through his head. He had a son. His mouth curled into a smile despite himself. "Damien." He softly said the name out loud and decided that he liked the sound of it. He took a sip of wine, wondering what his son would grow up to look like. He had been extremely lucky, really. Snape had been the one to suggest the idea, and he had jumped at the chance. His own son, given birth to by a complete stranger who fit his requirements. Someone with commendable NEWTs, with athletic ability, at least one strong pureblood ancestor, preferably male, not to mention someone tall, dark and handsome. A small laugh escaped him, and he broke into a wide grin. A part of him wanted nothing more than to break out into a jolly little jig. Male pregnancies were common in the wizarding world, and were especially safe for pregnancies where intercourse did not play a part. In fact, he thought with growing disappointment, he was the result of such a pregnancy.

He frowned slightly, his happiness quickly evaporating. No one knew, of course, save his parents and Snape. Truth be told, he really had nothing to complain about, but the knowledge that he was conceived before his parents had consummated their marriage was more than a little disturbing. He bit his lip. Perhaps that was the reason his parents had reacted to his decision so enthusiastically, he thought. Perhaps they had thought that he finally understood their reasons for their decision so many years ago. That and the fact that his son would be the future Malfoy heir. He snorted, as he walked back to his favourite armchair, his mind swimming with thoughts again.

All he was looking for was a family, he thought almost forlornly, as he sank into his plush armchair. And somehow, a child with his genes, given birth to by an adequate but complete stranger, seemed much more appealing than a failed relationship and thenfrequent tussles over the children and everything else. He downed another glass of wine as he brooded some more about the apparent nonexistence of his soulmate.

A/N: Review and tell me what you think!