Blue Light

by WinterStorrm

There's a 33.3% chance that Harry is the father of Draco's baby and a 66.6% chance he isn't but when have the odds ever been in Harry's favour anyway? Starts as a foursome fic and contains HP/DM/RW/BZ and various derivations thereof, but is still a H/D fic.

Title: Blue Light
Pairing: Draco/Harry, (Harry/Draco/Ron/Blaise and various derivations of the four).
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 18,000
Warnings: Mpreg, foursome
Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong JK Rowling and associated publishers. I make no profit from this endeavour.
Author's Notes: Written for harrydracompreg 2012 for this prompt: After foursome with Harry, Blaise and Ron, Draco find out he's pregnant. But who's the father? How the others react with the news? Can four of them live together for the baby's sake?
Beta read by singlemomsummer, edited since, mistakes all mine.
Summary: There's a 33.3% chance that Harry is the father of Draco's baby (and a 66.6% chance he isn't) but when have the odds ever been in Harry's favour anyway?

Draco stared at the quivering blue light that hovered above his abdomen and could've sworn it dipped in sympathy with his sinking stomach.

"Are you certain there's no mistake?" he asked the healer hopefully. Please, please, please let it be a mistake. Deep down though, he knew he that was just wishful thinking.

"I'm sorry, Mr Malfoy, this test is one hundred percent accurate. You're most definitely pregnant and by the position of the indicator, I'd say you're about two weeks along."

Draco didn't need the healer to tell him that. There was only one date in his calendar that this could have happened and now he was utterly screwed. Just like I was that night.

The healer obviously sensed his horror, because she said, gently, "If you don't want to keep the baby there are options you can explore."

"No!" Draco said, sharp and immediate. "No—I'm keeping him." There were no other options as far as he was concerned. The light had been blue. Draco had to ask, "It is a boy, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is and congratulations," the healer smiled at him, waved her wand and the blue light disappeared.

"Just one question before I go," Draco said, pulling his t-shirt back down over his exposed stomach. "How long until I can take a paternity test?"

::o::

"Blimey, mate, what the hell is wrong with you?" Ron asked, taking a slurp of his pint and waving across the room to Hermione who had just walked in, bringing with her a gust of wind that almost blew the hat off the elderly witch sitting just inside the door. "No offence, but you look bloody terrible."

"Nothing," Harry said, staring down at his hands to avoid Ron's gaze. He wasn't lying; not really, it was just—since the other night—he couldn't even put a name to this unsettled feeling that sat in a knot underneath his heart. "Just—"

"Hello you two," Hermione greeted a little breathlessly as she arrived at their table, unravelling her scarf and leaning over to peck Harry on the cheek before sitting down next to Ron and doing the same to him. "Sorry I'm late, it's been chaos at work today, and I thought I'd never get out."

Hermione had surprised no one when she'd gone on to study Charms at Grendel College, Oxford after completing her NEWTs. Three years later she had graduated with full honours and now she was working part-time as a consultant for the Aurors whilst studying part-time for her Masters.

"Hermione, ask Harry why he's being all moody will you, because he won't tell me," Ron said and Harry shot him a killer glare that Ron just shrugged off and took another swig of his rapidly dwindling drink.

"I'm fine," Harry said. "It's been a long week, that's all." It had been both long and extremely tiring, but staying busy was what he'd needed. If only he could shake this feeling he'd be fine.

"I'm going to the bar," Ron said, "Anyone?"

Harry lifted his pint glass by way of an answer and Hermione said, "White wine please." Ron ambled off and Hermione rounded on Harry. "How are you two getting on…you know?"

"We're not a couple, Hermione," Harry protested with a sigh. "Just because we're both bisexual blokes living in the same house doesn't mean we're at it all the time." Just some of the time, and it wasn't a 'thing', but Hermione didn't need to know that.

"So you've never sucked Ron's cock?" Hermione said with a giggle, covering her mouth to gag herself, like she hadn't meant to say that at all. "Sorry!" she said from behind her hand, her eyes wide, half amusement, half horror.

Harry felt the blush moving up his neck and colouring his cheeks.

Hermione removed her hand, "I knew it!"

"You knew what?" Ron asked appearing back at the table, three drinks levitating in front of him.

"That you and Harry have some kind of fuck-buddy thing going on."

"Hermione!" Harry objected.

"Come on, Harry—Hermione's known about this since it first happened." Harry glared accusingly at Hermione who had the grace to blush and look a little guilty. It had first happened back in fifth year!

"Fine," Harry said, giving up. "But we're still not a couple, are we Ron?"

"I never said that you were," Hermione said with faux innocence. "You're the one that interpreted my question that way, how is that my fault?"

"Does Viktor know that you have to get off on hearing about your best friends' sex lives because he doesn't satisfy you himself?" Harry said in an attempt to draw the attention away from him and to fight back.

"Oh, he more than satisfies me, Harry—but I'm a red blooded woman, who wouldn't find the image of two guys getting it on hot?"

"Merlin, Hermione, if you think two's hot, wait until I tell you about the other night after Seamus' stag party!" Ron slammed his pint glass on the table and leant forwards, ready to tell his tale.

Harry's stomach churned at the mention of that night, he didn't want it shared around, not even with Hermione. He wasn't even entirely comfortable that she knew about him and Ron. This was something else entirely. "Ron—don't," he warned. "Just—don't."

Ron's eyes widened but he did purse his lips closed and roll his eyes at Hermione.

Harry said, "Come on then, Hermione; tell us about why work was such a nightmare today." He knew perfectly well that Ron would tell Hermione anyway, when he was at the bar or in the loo, but for now, he was going to pretend that it hadn't happened.

::o::

"You've got to tell them, Draco," Pansy said and Draco could hear the edge of annoyance in her voice. "If there's a chance one of them is the father then I don't think you've got a choice." Since when had Pansy become so moral for Salazar's sake?

Draco closed his eyes and tried not to let the memories of that night assuage him. He curved his hands protectively over his flat stomach. He was nearly four weeks pregnant now, and he'd sat on his secret since the day he'd found out, only sharing it with Pansy. He forced his eyes open and watched the rise and fall of his stomach in time with his breathing and couldn't help smiling. There was a baby in there—his son.

"Of course there's a 'chance' one of them is the father," he replied with barely concealed sarcasm. "A bloody thirty-three percent chance for each of them. Merlin, Pans—I could be having a ginger!"

Pansy folded her arms and gave him her patented glare. "I have absolutely no sympathy, Draco. You had a night of kinky sex with three of the hottest wizards alive—something I would give my fortune to see in a Pensieve by the way—and now you're paying the price. Did you all sleep through that excruciatingly embarrassing sex education class with McGonagall in fourth year and miss the part where someone says, 'Impunitus' before getting down to business?"

Draco squirmed. He couldn't recall anyone casting that spell and he'd been too turned on at the time to think of doing it himself. "It's is all my fault," he groaned. He should have had the wherewithal to remember one simple spell!

"No—they were there too, let them shoulder the responsibility as well," Pansy said, the annoyance gone. She leant forwards and took his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I don't need them—I can do this by myself!" This was his baby, his mess and his sodding life.

"Draco, I love you, you know I do," Pansy said with another squeeze, before releasing him and saying, "But if you don't tell them, I will. I'll give you one week." Pansy stood, brushed herself down and glided from the room, leaving Draco glaring after her bitterly.

"I don't remember the part where we agreed you could run my life!" he called after her. All he received in reply was the pop of Apparition.

"Fuck," he said. "Fuck it all."

::o::

Harry hated making small-talk with strangers. Somehow these sort of networking events, despite being much larger in scale, always reminded him of the dinner parties the Dursleys used to throw to impress Uncle Vernon's clients where Harry would be expected to either stay out of sight completely or help out quietly whilst Vernon fawned over bored looking businessmen in cheap suits.

Five nights in a faceless hotel room didn't help to alleviate his boredom. It was the nature of his work though, and nothing was as exciting and glamorous in the real world as it was perceived to be from the outside. Modelling was the perfect example of a job that wasn't anywhere near as exciting as people might think. Lots of standing around, plenty of being pawed at by strangers in the name of fashion, far too much time turning down unwanted romantic offers—although despite that, Harry loved it. He'd hated being in the public eye his whole life, and he knew that this choice of career made no sense in that light, but he loved that he didn't have to think. His agents were a Muggle agency with Wizarding connections; he'd been 'touted' by a keen eyed witch who had probably expected him to say no. She'd got him at the right time, when he'd been confused over what he wanted to do. This way he didn't have to decide now, he could do this and worry about the rest of his life later. Much later.

He'd been to the gym, enjoyed a swim, had dinner, read the Prophet, and watched some television and it was still only 9.00pm. He had to keep busy otherwise he would drive himself mad. He couldn't stop thinking about that night, what it had felt like. How he when he let his mind drift back both Ron and Blaise kind of blurred out of the picture and it was just him and Malfoy, Harry buried deep inside him and Malfoy making low keening noises, his breath hot in Harry's ear as he moaned and tightened his legs around his back. How the hot splash of Draco's come had sent him so far over the edge that his vision had gone hazy. He tried not to think about how Blaise had said, "Who knew Potter could be so greedy?" and had pulled a pliant Draco into his own arms, and how after that both Ron and Blaise had fucked him. How he'd curled his fingers into his palms and drawn blood from the effort not to touch Draco again, how he'd got hard again, almost unwillingly, and Blaise had ridden his cock while Ron took Draco from behind and Harry had given in and stroked Draco to his completion.

It should be one of his go to wank-bank memories, Merlin knew he was unlikely to have that again, but somehow, it just wasn't. He wanted the night Obliviated from his memory.

::o::

Draco took almost the whole week debating with himself how to break the news of possible impending fatherhood to the potential fathers. Blaise he could handle, it would be awkward because of their friendship, because although they were occasional lovers, it wasn't more than that. Potter and Weasley were something else entirely. Draco didn't hate Weasley like he used to—he'd never have let him fuck him if he did—but it had been kind of an in the moment thing.

Those funny clear cocktails had a lot to answer for. Whatever was in them had made Draco uncontrollably horny. He remembered all of it, every last second. He'd climbed Harry Potter like a tree.

When he thought back to that he was both mortified…and rather turned on.

:o:

Five weeks after the 'event' Draco had finally managed to get the three potential fathers in one place. It had taken considerable effort because it was Blaise who had become friends with Potter through work—Blaise was a very talented photographer, Potter was his favourite model—and Draco had had to ask Blaise to invite Potter and Weasley round.

Draco remembered when Blaise had first told him that he'd worked on a shoot with Potter, a man who had stood up for him at the trials, given his wand back, made Draco fall ever so slightly in love with him, and then backed back out of his life again. Which was why he didn't want to think about how wonderfully Potter had fucked him, and how although there had been three of them for him that night, it was Potter whom he remembered most clearly through the fog of that memory, Potter who haunted his dreams.

It was clear from the speed that Blaise had contacted Potter that he had assumed Draco wanted a repeat performance of that night, and whilst there was a certain truth to that theory, there was a more pressing issue, "I'm pregnant," Draco blurted almost as soon as they all sat down.

"Very funny, Draco," Blaise said with a dismissive laugh. "If you're after another go I'm sure we'd all be—"

"I assure you, I'm perfectly serious."

Blaise's face fell. "Fuck," he muttered, paling slightly and glancing sideways at Weasley who was sitting beside him on the sofa, flanked on his other side by Potter.

Weasley turned paler than he was already, his red hair all the brighter in contrast. "I don't suppose by some miracle this happened since that night we all—" he closed his eyes as he completed the sentence, "—got together?"

Draco shook his head, not surprise or offended by the question—if it had been the other way around he would have asked the same thing. "Any one of you could be the father."

Weasley surprised him by asking, "How do you feel about it, Malfoy?" and the shock of that concern from such an unexpected source brought the frustrated tears that he'd been trying to suppress frighteningly close.

"Scared to death if you want the truth," Draco admitted and Weasley nodded and cast a swift glance at Potter. "But I'm keeping him, no matter what."

Potter remained still, his expression utterly impassive, like Draco was just talking about the weather. He didn't say anything, the silence stretching painfully between them all as the concept sank in. Draco began to get annoyed by Potter's lack of response— hewas the one pregnant, the one who'd fucked three guys in one night and now found himself in this predicament! None of themwere growing to expand to the size of sodding Hagrid!

"When I said it could be any one of you, I was including you in the equation, Potter!" Draco eventually snapped as the silence stretched, folding his arms in front of his chest and shooting daggers at him. Why did it have to be him? Why did I have to enjoy it so much? Draco could have shagged twenty blokes that night and have all twenty of them lined up now and that would be preferable as long as Potter wasn't one of them. Draco could even accept that his baby could be a Weasley—Merlin forbid—or Blaise's because at least they seemed to actually like him, but Potter's lack of response—

"How soon can we get a test?" Potter said, finally breaking the silence, still avoiding Draco's glare.

Draco saw red. "Not until the baby's first birthday!" The healer had said something about male pregnancy being of magical origin and thus paternity could only be determined once the baby's magical signature had settled—Draco wasn't exactly sure, but the healer had been adamant. "Trust me, if I could get one right now I would. I'm crossing all my fingers that the baby doesn't turn out to be yours, Potter, believe me! Both Weasley and Zabini are purebloods after all—" The words flew unbidden from his lips as his anger took over.

"Come on, Malfoy, that's uncalled for," Weasley protested. "Harry's only asking what we're all thinking."

Draco knew that, but Potter was the only one who had taken the news with stunned horror. Most probably he was disgusted at the thought of siring a child with the son of Lucius Malfoy, or an ex Death Eater: or both.

"Ron, it's fine," Potter licked his lips and for the first time since the conversation had started met Draco's eyes. "Then what are we going to do?"

::o::

"I can't believe this is happening," Harry said, rubbing the back of his neck as though that would make this whole situation go away. "A whole year until we know—no—hell, more like a year and a half." He paced the flagstone floor in the kitchen at Grimmauld Place, sat down in a chair opposite Ron for ten seconds before he was back on his feet again and pacing again.

"Mate, relax," Ron said calmly and Harry narrowed his eyes and sat back down again, folding his arms across his chest and regarding Ron across the table.

"I don't get why you're so calm about all this." Harry had thought that out of all of them, Ron would be the one freaking out the most, but it turned out that honour belonged to him. "Malfoy could be having your baby and you don't even seem bothered." An image flashed into his head of a red headed baby boy with Malfoy's grey eyes and his brain helpfully replaced it with one of blond haired baby with green eyes. Fuck.

"It's a thirty-three percent chance it's mine," Ron said reasonably, "And I don't mind if it is, not really. We've seen enough death to know how precious life is. If this baby's is mine then I'll be a father to him."

"I thought you hated Malfoy." Harry thought he much preferred it when Ron and Malfoy used to throw petty insults at one another. This new dynamic was unsettling.

"Not anymore. He's not the jumped up snot he was at school—and I've grown up." Was he implying Harry hadn't? "The war changed all of us. And he wants the baby, which says something, because he could so easily have made it all go away."

"I just don't think all of us living here together is going to work," Harry huffed, feeling suddenly weary. Malfoy would be living under Harry's roof, sleeping under Harry's roof—Harry did not like it one bit. "I don't like it."

"It was your idea!"

"Yeah, well, it was a stupid one!" In the end this had been the only solution that worked for the four of them. All Harry knew was that if this was his child, he was about to become Harry's only family. He wanted that more than anything—which mean that he wanted Malfoy living close-by.

He refused to think about the logistics of four horny barely twenty-two year-old Wizards living under one roof.

::o::

Grimmauld Place wasn't like Draco remembered it from his childhood. Gone were the dark rooms and oppressive decor, the stuffed elf heads and the caterwauling portraits. In their place were light and airy rooms, wooden floors and period-sympathetic furniture. The only thing that remained of the old house was the Black family tapestry.

"I've just had it restored," Potter told him on the day they all moved in—well, Weasley lived there already and had done since the war, but Blaise and Draco had each had their own flats, until now that was. "When you told us you were pregnant and we agreed we'd all live here, I contacted an expert in the field of family tapestries and look—" He pointed at Draco's name where it branched from Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy (nee Black). "That's where the baby's name will go. The father's name won't appear there unless you are bonded, but I thought…" He tailed off as Draco traced the empty space where the name of his baby would fill.

"Thank you, Potter," he said, sneaking a furtive glance at him through his lashes. Potter looked uncomfortable, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans and one toe stabbing the floor as he fidgeted. "I'm surprised you didn't rip this down when you had the whole place renovated."

Potter shrugged. "Felt wrong, you know? I always intended to get it fixed; this just prompted me to do it now." He looked up from the floor and met Draco's eyes. "Have you settled in? Is your room okay? You can choose one of the others if you don't like it."

"It's fine." A room was a room. He was more concerned with the reason why he had to live here in the first place.

Before making the suggestion that they all move into his house Potter had said, "If there's a chance that baby is mine, I want to be part of this," and Draco couldn't argue with that, because that was what he had wanted when he'd told the three of them about the baby—wasn't it? Weasley and Blaise had said similar things; all was as well as could be expected considering the circumstances.

So it was decided the four of them would live together. They hadn't discussed how it would work other than that. They weren't suddenly a poly-foursome. They were just four guys who had, for one incredible night, let go of their inhibitions and now they were stuck together for the next eighteen months until they could get the test done and clear up this mess.

"Yes, well, let me know if there's anything you need and I'll make sure you'll get it, um, for the baby and all that."

Of course: for the baby. Draco sometimes felt he had been reduced down to from person to incubator. He'd been in this house for a week now and it was worse than awkward. If it wasn't for his work Draco thought he might go mad, and his lab was the one place he could really be alone; unplottable and his, he spent a lot of time there. Making potions made him happy and he had a full order book for the exclusive range he had developed since finishing his two years under the tutelage of Jarrett Youngblood where he had honed his skills.

"I just want to say," Potter said now, dragging Draco back to the present. He was sitting at the kitchen table where Potter was placing a pot of tea next to the plate of biscuits mouth-watering looking biscuits. Potter had asked him if he'd got time for a quick chat and Draco postponed his lab time to listen to what Potter had to say. "That I'm sorry for the way I reacted when you said you were pregnant. I was out of line."

Draco stared at Potter, amazed. He hadn't expected that. "I suppose it must've been a shock."

Potter nodded. He picked up the teapot and raised an eyebrow. Draco nodded and Harry poured him a cup, sliding it over the table towards him and sitting down to pour one for himself. "I know this is awkward. I mean, I know Blaise some through work, and Ron, obviously, but you and I—" He paused and seemed to be searching for his words. "I'd like us to start again? I know we'll never be free of the past, not entirely, but ours has been particularly unpleasant—I nearly killed you for Merlin's sake—"

Draco's scars itched as if on cue. He'd forgiven Potter for that long ago. He had been about to curse him after all, and Sev had made sure Draco knew that Potter hadn't realised what the spell did. "I took pleasure in making your life a misery, broke your nose—I nearly killed Weasley—I think starting again is an excellent idea."

Potter visibly relaxed. "You saved us too, I remember that."

"I think it's fair to say that we've both been instrumental in one another's lives since we were eleven," Draco said, smiling, wondering if this meant what he hoped – that he and Potter might become friends. He just didn't want to say the words; it was over ten years ago, but Potter's initial rejection of him had followed him all that time, haunting him when he felt low. He'd often wondered how things might be different if he hadn't messed it up, if Potter had taken his hand.

"I should also tell you," Potter said, a blush creeping up his neck as he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "That I developed a bit of a crush on you in fourth year. I, um, just think it's important that you know that just because we weren't friends doesn't mean I don't wish things had been different."

That was the point Draco should have told Potter that he'd had his crush since the first time he'd met him—he'd known he was different since the age of nine or so—but he didn't, he just said, "That's good to know," and smiled. Potter smiled back and for the first time since he'd found out he was pregnant Draco didn't feel like the world was ending.

::o::

"This living arrangement is torture," Ron said five minutes after invading Harry's bedroom and flopping down beside him on the bed. Harry had only been reading anyway, catching up on all the books he had missed reading when growing up when reading was something he only did when Hermione forced him into the library. He read for pleasure now, and in his line of work it was a lifesaver during all those hours of waiting about. "I bumped into Draco coming out of the shower earlier—bloody hell—do you think it would hurt the baby if we—"

"Ron!" Harry pushed himself up on his elbows and glared at Ron. Just the thought made him feel nauseous.

Ron ignored Harry's outburst. "Not just him, Blaise too... I feel like someone left me in Honeydukes and stole all my money." Wide blue eyes turned to him. "Honestly, mate, don't tell me you haven't thought about it."

"No, I haven't," Harry lied, closing his eyes and flopping back down again. His mind's eye helpfully supplied him with an image of Malfoy wrapped in a tiny towel, water running down his chest and disappearing beneath it. This was getting unhealthy! He was glad he'd never told anyone about his thing for Malfoy. He'd kept it buried these last few years anyway; there had bigger things to worry about than the object of his affection hating the sight of him. He wasn't going to think about how pleased Malfoy had looked when Harry had admitted he used to have a thing for him. 'Used to'? Really?

He bit his lip and forced Malfoy's image out of his head. "What do you need them for when you've got me?" He reached over and cupped Ron's prick through his jeans. He unzipped him and slipped his hand inside, wrapping it around Ron's very interested member and pulling it free of its confines.

"Merlin, Harry," Ron gasped. "You could have a point." He closed a hand around Harry's wrist and pulled gently. Harry moved quickly, straddling Ron's thighs, meeting Ron's dazed eyes with a smirk before leaning down and engulfing him.

As a distraction it worked pretty well, Ron reciprocated afterwards and they lay there talking about Ron's latest case and Harry's next assignment and to Harry's relief there was no more talk of their new house mates in various states of undress or otherwise.

Crisis averted.

::o::

As was inevitable in a house owned by Harry Potter, Granger eventually made an appearance. One of the house rules that they'd decided upon on the first day was that when possible the four of them would eat an evening meal together. Potter had said that the reason they were all living together was to support Draco through the pregnancy and be there for him when the baby was born. They couldn't do that if they existed as awkward acquaintances, which is all that they had been—internal dynamics not withstanding—when Draco had broken the news.

As it was, things were still awkward and tense. Even Blaise had been tiptoeing around him and he was one of Draco's oldest friends.

Draco privately thought Potter had a point and that them all spending time together was important, hopeful that things would improve, although he'd die before admitting any of that. Unfortunately, spending time together meant putting up with Potter and Weasley's missing piece eventually and the only surprise was that it had taken her so long to put in an appearance. He knew she'd spent a couple of weeks in Bulgaria with Krum recently, but Weasley had said she'd come back last week.

They'd kept Granger in the dark about Draco's condition until Weasley and Potter had gone round to tell her about the baby whilst he and Blaise moved in. Potter had come back that night looking thoroughly bemused. "She tore us a new one," Weasley had said by way of explanation. Draco hadn't wanted to ask the full details of the encounter. He couldn't imagine Granger being best pleased that her two best mates might have fathered a child with Draco Malfoy.

"Draco, look at you, you look amazing!" she greeted when she stepped out of the Floo to find Draco sitting in the living room waiting for her. He'd wanted to face her head on, not feeling in the mood for the inevitable inquisition over dinner, he hadn't expected her to be so…nice. "You'd never know—" Her eyes gravitated to his stomach.

Instinctively Draco placed a hand on his abdomen. "I'm only eight weeks along; let me keep my figure for as long as possible if you don't mind," he bristled. He knew he looked good at the moment, his skin, his hair, his eyes were almost glowing with health as the baby's magic mingled with his own, making him stronger so he could protect it in turn.

"How do you feel?" Granger asked, coming to sit down beside him, her brown eyes concerned.

Draco wanted to hug her. He didn't of course, but he actually felt that he could just for asking that question. She didn't have to be pleasant to him. Merlin knew she had more than enough reason to hate him after his behaviour towards her in the past.

His thoughts obviously reflected on his face because she said, "Let's get this over with. The past is past. I think it's time for a new start, yes?" Draco nodded, thinking back to how own similar words to Potter, and Granger's lips twitched. "Good. Now let's talk about what an incredibly lucky git you are—Blaise, Harry and Ron…" she fanned herself, flushing slightly, "Sorry, sorry! Just kidding, now, really—how are you?"

Draco felt his years of resentment towards Granger fall away as he tried to blink back an unwanted tear. Please don't let me break down.

Throughout these last few days his mind had been whirring with his predicament. He was pregnant and he didn't know who the father was, so now he was living with all three possibilities. He'd always seen himself having children one day, but not like this, Merlin, never like this. He wanted a life partner, someone who loved him and who he wanted to grow old with before he ever considered having children. Now here he was, barely twenty-two years old, up the duff after a drunken foursome where he'd been tagged by the other three. What did that say about him?

He looked at Granger, then at the door to check that no one was approaching. "I feel so ashamed, Granger," he admitted. "How could I let this happen?" He blamed his hormones when the tears ignored his wishes and he gave into Granger's embrace, sobbing quietly into her shoulder.

"You have nothing to be ashamed of, Draco, don't beat yourself up," Granger said softly. "Try to look at the positives. You're having a baby."

Draco sniffed and pulled back, ducking his head to swipe away his tears. "Thanks, Granger," he said, looking up to find her looking at him almost fondly.

"Call me Hermione," she said.

::o::

"Okay, I know you're all boys and you don't do emotional if you can help it, but you're going to have to try and make an effort otherwise you might as well just be four ex-schoolmates sharing a house and living separate lives." Hermione regarded Harry, Ron and Blaise sternly over the top of her tea cup and all three of them squirmed. "Your lives are not separate. You're having a baby—and that's all three of you at the moment so start being a bit more supportive towards Draco, will you?"

"What's it got to do with you, Granger?" Blaise snapped from the other side of the room. "Draco's no friend of yours."

Hermione withered him with her trademark shaming stare that Harry had been sure could have felled Voldemort himself had the opportunity arisen. "Draco's vulnerable at the moment, he needs to feel that he's not on his own in this. It's very commendable that you've all moved in together, but that's not enough."

Harry stared into his tea cup and didn't say anything. He'd tried with Malfoy, he really had, but it was just so damneduncomfortable. He'd even confessed his crush to show him that he did care. It was just that he felt that if he talked to Malfoy about the baby then it made it more real, and at the moment he couldn't face that. He hadn't been avoiding him exactly; he just hadn't been seeking him out either.

He was afraid to get excited about it because if the baby wasn't his then he had no right to be so invested—in Malfoy or the child.

"I'll try, Hermione," Ron said. "Give us a chance though, yeah? It's early days and this situation doesn't exactly come with a handbook!"

"Okay, fine, whatever," Blaise huffed, getting to his feet. "I need some fresh air and a whiskey chaser. Anyone care to join me?"

"No thanks," Harry said automatically. "I've got an early call in the morning."

"I'll come. Red Lion?" Ron asked. At Blaise's non-committal shrug he added, "See you soon, Hermione, later Harry."

Harry watched them leave the room and listened to the sound of them donning their coats in the hallway and the front door shutting before he said, "I am trying, you know, with Malfoy—but it's not easy." He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand tiredly. He really needed to get some sleep before long if he didn't want to fall asleep on the shoot tomorrow. "Do you think I should go and check on him?" Malfoy had retired to bed straight after dinner. He'd looked exhausted.

"I'd leave him to sleep tonight. Just give some thought to how you can spend more time with him—alone and with the others. It's important."

Harry made all the right noises and Hermione left shortly afterwards. When Harry went up to bed he hesitated outside Malfoy's bedroom door, hand raised to knock, before dropping it again, shaking his head, and moving past to his own room.

::o::

"So," Blaise began with an uncomfortable cough, sitting down on the sofa beside Draco, "Talk to me, Draco." He elbowed Draco gently in the side and offered him a wry smile.

Draco sighed. Blaise was his best friend, had been for years really, and they'd known each other since they were in the cradle. Now he could be having Blaise's baby. That Blaise was in the picture wasn't a bad thing. Realistically, Blaise being the father was the best case scenario: at least Draco trusted him.

They'd been living in Harry's house for a few weeks now and it was getting less awkward. Draco would play Weasley at chess after dinner if he wasn't working whilst Harry curled in the armchair with a book or chatted with Blaise.

Harry was polite and attentive to Draco's comfort—no doubt for the comfort of the potential baby Potter Draco was carrying—Draco could tell he was really making an effort. Sometimes though, all Draco really wanted was to go back to his flat…only there was a small matter of the Wizard's Vow they'd all agreed to—that they would live under the same roof until they knew who the father was. Draco must've been off his rocker to agree to it. Harry had just seemed so sincere that Draco had been carried away in the moment. It seemed that those pretty green eyes still had power over him despite a decade having passed since he first got caught up in them.

Who was he kidding? He didn't want to be on his own, and if he went back to his flat that was what would happen. At least here had company most evenings if he wanted it and if he didn't he could watch the Muggle television in the room Harry called 'the snug', something he was enjoying far more than he'd ever admit to. Coronation Street was a brilliant thing. Were Muggles really like that? Harry often joined him and they would sit in companionable silence staring at the screen.

Draco had started to think of Harry as, well, Harry and Harry had started to call him Draco. It was something.

"I hate that it's awkward between us," he told Blaise now. "It's never been like that between you and I—"

Blaise averted his eyes and shifted. "It's just been a lot to take in that's all. I… The thing is, if the baby is mine it doesn't have to be weird—we're friends, we can be good parents without being together together." He stood up and began to pace. "I've got to be honest though, just the thought of the baby being Ron's makes me want to punch something."

Draco frowned. "I thought you liked Ron."

"I do. That's why."

"Oh— oh." Blaise's confession made a certain kind of sense. "Merlin, Blaise, you're one of the most gorgeous blokes I know, if you want Ron—"

Blaise held up a hand and shook his head. "I've got to do this right. There's something between him and Harry, more than just mates, I can't just go ploughing in, not when we're all living in the same house."

Draco's stomach dropped at Blaise's words even though he'd come to the same conclusion himself—he'd hoped it wasn't true. Hearing it from someone else though, that made it more real.

Blaise patted Draco's knee. "Now, be honest—have you told your parents about the baby yet?"

Immediately Draco felt all of the blood leave his brain and his head began to spin. How was he supposed to break this news to them? Admit that he'd fucked three guys in one night and worse—one was a Weasley and one was Harry Potter! Lucius would have him disinherited before you could say, 'foursome'. "I'm putting it off," he said, swallowing nervously, "for as long as possible, hopefully forever."

"As soon as you start avoiding your mother, she'll hunt you down and pin you with her mind and you'll be confessing it all. Better to stay in control of the situation and strike first don't you think?"

Draco sighed and dropped his head to Blaise's shoulder. "Will you come with me?"

Blaise wrapped a comforting arm around him. "If you want me—"

"Has anyone seen my—Oh!" Harry walked in the room and stopped dead, looking between Blaise and Draco with a frown. "Sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt."

"You're not," Blaise said with an easy smile. Draco had noticed that Blaise and Harry seemed to have grown into an easier friendship over the last couple of weeks and the awkwardness of their tentative acquaintance had fallen away. "Grab a seat. We were just talking about how Draco can tell his parents about all of this."

Draco closed his eyes and suppressed the desire to elbow Blaise for sharing that with Harry. Harry wasn't exactly a fan of his father. Not that Draco could blame him, Lucius wasn't exactly endearing.

"Hell, Draco—I hadn't even thought about that," Harry said, sinking into the armchair next to the sofa and folding his hands under his arms. "I could come with you if you want?"

Draco blinked, unable to hold back his shock. "You're serious?"

Harry nodded, shrugging.

Draco glanced at Blaise who mirrored Harry's shrug, his relief evident. It seemed there weren't many people who relished spending time in Lucius Malfoy's company.

::o::

Harry's stomach churned from the moment he'd offered to visit Draco's parents at Malfoy Manor and it didn't calm down when they got there, stepping through the Floo into an grand drawing room to be greeted instantly by a very formal house elf wearing a gingham dress and sparkly red shoes.

"Master Draco and Mr Potter will follow Hetty to the conservatory where Mistress Malfoy is taking tea," the elf said and marched from the room without checking if Harry and Draco were following.

"Is your father home?" Harry whispered out of the side of his mouth as they followed the elf towards the conservatory, even though Draco presumably knew there it was. Harry pointedly looked ahead and didn't dwell on the décor or any of the doors they passed on the way. His memories of the manor were less than pleasant and he didn't want to be reminded any more than he already was just by agreeing to come.

"He'll be in the garden," Draco said without elaborating. Harry's hope that by some miracle Lucius wouldn't be around flickered, perhaps he wouldn't be informed of their visit or would choose not to join them once he knew Harry was here.

They stepped into the conservatory and found Narcissa Malfoy sitting a wrought iron table near the open patio doors with a tea pot in the middle and three cups laid out. When she saw them approach she stood. "Draco—darling!" she held out a hand and Draco took it, letting himself be pulled in to a hug. "You never leave it this long between visits, where have you been hiding yourself?"

"It's complicated," Draco muttered and Harry could see that he was trembling slightly. "I—"

"Does it have anything to do with Mr Potter?" Narcissa asked with a raised eyebrow. "Mr Potter, do come forward, I don't bite you know."

Harry did as he was bid and stepped forwards. "It's a pleasure to see you again, Mrs Malfoy," he said, and it wasn't entirely a lie—the woman had saved his life after all, regardless of her motive at the time, and because of that, Voldemort was just a very bad memory.

"Come on boys, take a seat," Narcissa invited and sat herself down on the chair nearest the teapot. "Draco, dear, you do look well—you're positively incandescent."

Draco's face suffused with colour and that was the moment that did it for Harry. He reached out and took his hand, felt the slight tremor, giving it a squeeze and earning a surprised glare from confused grey eyes. He tried to convey his intent silently, threading his fingers into Draco's and saying, "Draco does look good doesn't he?" He took a deep breath and continued, "I hope it issomething to do with me. You see, Draco and I—we've been spending rather a lot of time together and—we're having a baby."

He tightened his grip on Draco's hand as Narcissa's eyes widened and darted to Draco's stomach. "Oh my!" Her hand flew to her throat and she took a deep breath before saying, "That's wonderful news! We must fetch Lucius and tell him immediately."

Harry could do this; he could pretend to be Draco's boyfriend if it meant that Draco didn't get a hard time from his parents. Besides, he'd promised he would make more of an effort with Draco… for Draco. He'd struggled so far. When he went to talk to Draco, words turned to cardboard in his mouth and as a result he only stuck to the bare pleasantries—asking about his health, making him tea, making the barest minimum of small talk.

He didn't have the same problems with Blaise. Blaise was slightly aloof and stand offish upon first look, but dig deeper and he was ferociously loyal, funny and incredibly intelligent. He was also incredibly hot, which would normally fluster Harry a little, but with Blaise it wasn't like that. They'd become—good friends. Harry had no doubt that by the time this thing was over and they had their answer to the paternity dilemma that he and Blaise would have forged a lifelong friendship. There was something about him that Harry just got.

Draco—well, why should he have to suffer the indignity of telling his parents what had happened between them all unless it turned out he had to? They could claim that Draco had had a fling, or—they would think of something, but not right now.

::o::

"You didn't need to do that," Draco said when they arrived back at Grimmauld Place after an awkward couple of hours at the Manor, clutching Harry's hand as his father expressed his disappointment in him for his choice of partner, supplemented by veiled accusations that he'd always been on Harry's side which was why he'd not given him away when the Snatcher's had delivered him to their doorstep and Draco had claimed he didn't know him. Draco couldn't even deny it; he would have known Harry Potter anywhere. His silent support was all he'd been able to give.

Harry shuffled his feet, the two of them standing on the rug in front of the Floo. Harry's hand in his made Draco feel things he didn't want to think about. "I'm sorry if I overstepped the line, but as soon as we got there—imagine what your father would have been like if he knew the full story! When we get the tests done, if I'm not the baby's father we'll come up with something then, but not before." He lifted his worried gaze to meet Draco's. "If you don't want to lie to your parents I'll tell them—"

"No! I'm glad you did it. You're right. They don't have an automatic right to know about my sex life, Merlin forbid!" Draco really shouldn't mention sex when he was alone with Harry; or in Harry's general vicinity really. "Harry, I—"

The door flew open and Draco's words were lost as Ron and Blaise stumbled in.

"You're back!" Ron blurted. He glanced at Blaise received a nod in return. Blaise walked around behind Harry and slid arms around his waist. Ron did the same to Draco.

"What's going on?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow at Draco who shook his head. He had no idea.

"We decided to cheer you up after your visit to your parents," Blaise said. "I'm sure after seeing Malfoy senior both of you would welcome a little…relief?" His hand slid down beneath Harry's waistband. Draco followed the movement with a mixture of jealousy and desire, his eyes widening as Ron copied Blaise's movements on him.

In sync, Blaise and Ron nuzzled his and Harry's necks, moving slowly around to their fronts and dropping to their knees. Sodding hell, he really should be saying something, stopping this, pushing Ron away… Harry—

Harry wasn't looking at him when Draco tore his eyes away from the back of Blaise's head as Blaise kissed a trail along Harry's abdomen whilst he worked his zip. His eyes were closed and he was biting his lip. The expression on his face…

"Whose idea was this?" Draco asked, looking away, his cock rapidly filling despite his better judgment as Ron kissed his navel, nipping gently at the soft skin there before moving his hand lower and undoing his top button.

Ron pulled back with a smirk. "Mine. Now be shut up and let me relax you."

Well, that explained Blaise's enthusiasm for the project, not that he'd ever been one to turn down sex. If Ron had suggested this then he'd have jumped at it. Now that he knew to look for it Draco had seen Blaise watch Ron when he thought that no one could see him. It was probably the same way that he—

"Fuck!" he gasped as Ron somehow managed to simultaneously close his hand around Draco's prick and suckle the head into his mouth. Draco hadn't been touched there other than by his own hand since the night of the baby's conception.

Beside him Harry was emitting low moans, feeding Draco's arousal, but he couldn't bring himself to look at Harry again. Draco fed a hand into Ron's hair, already feeling his orgasm building, not caring that his stamina was pathetically non-existent. Ron knew what he was doing that was for certain. He seemed to know just the spot to make Draco's toes curl. Draco wasn't going to last, he was going to— As the explosion ripped through him he raised his eyes to Harry and found hazed green eyes fixed on him. Draco was unable to hold back his cry of completion, his hand tightening in Ron's hair as he spilled down his throat.

Ron pulled back and Draco was aware of him wiping the back his hand across his mouth, but Draco couldn't take his eyes off Harry, fascinated by the play of expressions chasing across his face, his head finally tipping back and exposing the powerful column of his neck as he came with a loud moan.

Blaise pulled back, staring up at Harry who opened his eyes and stared down at him with a grin. "I needed that, thanks," he said, and with those four words, Draco felt like crying; bloody hormones again. "I'd better sit down before my legs give up on me." Harry shuffled backwards towards the sofa and it was only then that Draco realised they were still holding hands. Harry gave it a tug and they both fell back on the sofa. Harry laughing, Draco feeling all coiled up inside as though he hadn't just come a couple of minutes before.

"Who's going to deal with this?" Ron asked, pointing at the bulge in his jeans. Draco fully expected both Harry and Blaise to volunteer, but it was Blaise who closed the distance between them, the two of them still kneeling, and deftly undid Ron's zip.

Draco watched as Blaise swiftly rid himself of his clothes and with a couple of convenient spells, rode Ron into the floor. He didn't want to, but fuck it, he was so horny lately and his tension had returned—his cock decided to show its renewed interest rather swiftly. Draco glanced away from the frantic coupling in front of him to look at Harry, but Harry wasn't looking at Blaise and Ron, he was watching Draco. When he saw Draco looking he let go of his hand and reached over to palm Draco's cock, closing strong fingers around his length and stroking him slowly, in total contrast with the show going on in front of them. Draco had just come but he was almost ready to do so again, Harry's hand on him, the sounds coming from Ron and Blaise… Salazar, Harry had his own cock in his other hand. This was too much!

Draco could hear the heavy sounds of his own breathing, his own heart beat thundering in his ears. As Blaise cried out his climax, Draco followed, biting back Harry's name.

He dropped his head back against the headrest, closing his eyes. This was so fucked up.

::o::

Harry leant back against Ron's bedroom door and took a deep breath. "What was that all about earlier?" He pushed forwards, sitting down in the armchair next the fireplace. "Not that it wasn't good, it was very good." It had been just want he'd needed, and exactly what he didn't at the same time.

Ron, sitting up against his headboard in his boxers and an old t-shirt, rolled his eyes. "Only you could make that sound like a lie." He took a deep breath and said, "I thought it was about time is all. We've been living here, all four of us, for weeks and I couldn't stop thinking about what fun we could be having if we all loosened up a bit. So when Blaise came home and we started to speculate about how it was going at the manor I—fuck—how did it go?"

Harry couldn't fault Ron's logic. They did all need loosening up. It wasn't Ron's fault something felt weird about the whole thing. Harry had had his chance to say no and he hadn't, he'd let Blaise suck him off, he'd watched while Ron fucked him and he'd wanked off Draco. All in a day's work really. Now he was exhausted.

"I lied to Draco's mother, told her we were an item and that I was the father—you should've seen Draco, Ron, he was shaking, I couldn't let him tell them the full story."

Ron regarded him silently for a long moment before saying, "Oh good. I won't have to tell my parents. Excellent plan!"

Harry relaxed slightly. He'd been worried that Ron would be pissed off, after all, there as a chance this was his baby and now everyone was going to think Harry was the father until proved otherwise.

"Were you worried about telling me that?"

Harry blinked, surprised. Ron was so much more astute these days than he ever had been back at school. Auror training obviously covered more than the physical.

"Come here you idiot." Ron patted the bed and Harry went to join him, getting under the covers lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. "Stay here tonight?"

Harry nodded, closing his eyes. "Thanks, Ron."

He heard Ron say, "What for?" but he was already drifting off to sleep.

::o::

"Can't Blaise go?" Harry asked, fidgeting with the hem of his t-shirt and avoiding Draco's eye. "I've got to work today."

"Really?" Draco slammed his tea cup down on the kitchen table, ignoring Harry's wince. "That's funny because I could've sworn I heard you tell Ron earlier that you had nothing on all morning."

Harry lowered his own cup from his lips and swallowed. "You heard that, huh?" He flushed and lifted his gaze to meet Draco's for a moment. "I just— Since I told your parents about 'us' and your Mother has taken it upon herself to check up on you twice a week—I feel as though the other two are being left out because it's you, me, your mother and the baby. Ron and Blaise could be the father as well and—"

Today was the twelve week scan and Draco's appointment with his healer was in an hour. He'd assumed Harry would come, which was obviously fucking foolish. He knew Harry had a point, he just didn't like the way it felt wrong that one of the others came to the scan. He had bought into his own bloody lie! He knew very well that he and Harry weren't really an item, that the fantastic sex they'd been enjoying since their return from the manor the other week came as a package deal. He enjoyed it; he wasn't going to deny that, but…

The thing was Draco liked being Harry Potter's 'boyfriend'. When his Mother visited and Harry slipped into his role of doting partner, Draco felt—loved. Obviously, his parents loved him, even his father although Draco was hard pressed to see that at the moment after Lucius' reaction to the news that he was pregnant by Harry Potter.

"Blaise doesn't come back from Italy until tonight, you know that, and Ron's on a stake-out."

"Oh," Harry said. "Okay then. What time do you want to leave?"

"Now," Draco replied. "I'm not supposed to travel by Floo for a full twenty-four hours before the scan. We have to get a Muggle car taxi."

"Let me just grab my coat." Harry took a final sip of his tea and disappeared upstairs.

Draco sat, eyes closed at the table, hand over his now slight bump, wishing this was real. Wishing Potter was his. Sometimes it seemed he'd spent his whole life half in love with Potter, and now he was here, Draco's hope of falling out of love with the prat wasn't coming to fruition. He just wanted him more.

He hated sharing him.

The night the baby was conceived Potter had been the first to fuck him, had been the one to open him up, the only one who had been loving…

Who could blame Potter for not being interested in him now other than for more of the same?

He should never have agreed to this living together thing. He should have refused, stood his ground, kept his flat, let the other three meet the baby and maybe take him out once in a while and the after the year take the bloody test and let the father see him at weekends. Instead he was just some pregnant freak of a man living with three guys who no longer seemed to even see him as Draco Malfoy anymore. He wanted to cry.

Fucking hormones.

Harry appeared back in the doorway clutching his coat in one hand and bracing the door with the other. "Are we hailing a cab from the main road?"

Draco nodded and stood up. He had no idea what hailing was, but Harry seemed pleased with the concept.

When the left the house Harry took his hand and Draco slipped back into make believe. Just let him have this morning with Harry and the miracle that was their baby. Just one morning.

::o::

Harry stared out the window for the entire journey to St Mungo's. What the hell was he playing at? This felt too good, as though they really were a couple on their way to see their baby for the first time, instead of this odd twosome that they really were. Not really boyfriends but pretending to be.

Blaise had seemed as relieved as Ron when Harry and Draco had told him that Harry was playing the father role for Draco's parent's benefit, saying that he hadn't been looking forward to his mother finding out she might be about to become a grandmother and had agreed that it did make a certain kind of sense. However, he'd also pointed out that they might have set Draco up for a fall later—he'd pointed out that statistically the baby was sixty-six percent likely not to be Harry's.

That percentage was the reason Harry was so reluctant to go to the scan. Not because the healer would think he was the father, and once that little gem started to become public knowledge there would be a front page spread in The Prophet not far behind, it was inevitable—but because he wanted this baby to be his and he didn't know how it would feel if it transpired that he wasn't the father.

Draco's hand felt warm in his and Harry knew that somewhere along the way, he'd become a lot more invested in this non-relationship than he ever had in a real one. Ginny had fizzled out before it started, Colin, Sally, Frank—all nice but inconsequential. The feel of Draco's hand in his could never be inconsequential.

When they arrived at St Mungo's, still hand in hand, the reaction to them as a couple had been expected—people gaping in the foyer, nudging one another, whispering. Draco tried to pull his hand free but Harry held fast.

"We'll be all over the paper tomorrow!" Draco protested with a hiss.

"Nothing new about that," Harry said and Draco didn't reply. They went to the relevant waiting area to await their appointment and Harry felt Draco's nerves connecting with his own. "If you're worried about the paper—"

"No, it's not that. I'm—We're going to see the baby for the first time. What if something's wrong?"

"Nothing will be wrong. It's a baby Malfoy—you're an indestructible species!" Harry said with a laugh. "If he's got your blood he's going to be a survivor. Don't forget—whichever other father he has, we're all fighters in our own way. He's going to be fine."

Draco relaxed slightly and Harry was about to say something else when the healer arrived from a door behind reception and called Draco's name.

:o:

"Wow," Ron said, wide blue eyes fixated on the 3d image of the twelve week old foetus that span slowly from a beam emitting from Draco's wand. "That's bloody amazing."

Blaise was equally impressed if less obvious about it. "We'd better enjoy our freedom whilst we still can boys, because when this one arrives, our lives won't ever be the same."

Harry watched Draco smile at the positive reactions of the other half of their exclusive club with a lead weight settling in the base of his stomach. Blaise pulled Draco into a bone crushing hug and said, "I'm proud of you," before kissing him full on the mouth.

"I'm going to bed," Harry said and stood, not looking behind him as he left the room and took the stairs two by two.

He lay back on his bed and stared at the ceiling, blinking rapidly. Fuck. It. All.

When Ron joined him ten minutes later and lay down beside him on the bed. "Mate, you like him don't you?" Harry could only dumbly nod.

Ron sighed and said, "Part of me wants to be the father because—oh I don't know why… But I don't want to be with Draco. I mean—you know I think he's fit, bloody hell, he's gorgeous, and I enjoy it when, you know, but Blaise is—" Ron reached over and unzipped Harry's jeans, sliding his hand inside, pushing them and his boxers down to stroke his thumb over the tip of Harry's cock. Even through his misery Harry's cock perked up, damned traitor that it was. "I'd like Blaise to fuck me six ways to Sunday—and you know I don't usually bottom."

Harry's mind instantly provided moving pictures for that image of Ron and Blaise and his cock sprang fully to life. "Blimey, Ron," he huffed, bucking up into Ron's questing hand. "Tell me more about that."

Ron swung a leg over Harry's lap, undid his own fly and muttering a lubrication charm had both of their cocks pressed together and enjoying slow friction. "I'd ride him so hard he'd be seeing stars for a week," Ron said, flicking the end of Harry's cock with his forefinger.

After that, neither of them lasted long, both of them coming all over their hands and clothes, Ron slumping down beside Harry breathing heavily. "How's that for distraction?"

Harry laughed. This was why Ron was his best friend; he knew exactly how to distract him. "Eight out of ten," he joked, elbowing Ron affectionately. He sobered when he heard the footsteps on the stairs down the hall, his thoughts returning to Draco. "We're fucked aren't we?"

"Pretty much."

::o::

"I'm going to ask him what the hell his problem is!" Draco announced, jumping to his feet and almost sending his chair toppling to the floor. "Why's he being so moody?"

Blaise, reached out to steady the chair, staring moodily at the door. "Why did Ron go after Harry?"

Draco paused, his hand on the door ready to head upstairs to find Harry. "What?"

Blaise waved a hand. "Ron and Harry; they're probably having their own private little party upstairs. It's like they're this impenetrable unit." He folded his arms with a loud huff. "Sorry, Draco, I know you like Harry…"

Draco thought about denying it, but what would be the point?

"I could murder a peanut butter and pineapple sandwich," he said instead and then, hearing his own words added, "Bloody hormones." He shoved his anger at Harry to the back of his mind. "Fuck it, I'm going to bed."

::o::

"Well, dear, this has been lovely," Narcissa Malfoy said, dabbing her mouth delicately with a napkin and placing it neatly on top if the remains of her dessert. "Now tell me, Harry, when are you going to make an honest man of Draco?"

Harry choked on a mouthful of coffee, managing to grab his napkin in time to catch the explosion. Beside him Draco's eyes widened and he flushed dark pink. "Mother!"

"It's all very well acting all indignant, Draco, but that little baby in there deserves to be born into a steady home and that means the two of you bonding." She turned her deceptively steely gaze on Harry and suddenly things slotted into place, the reason for this invite to dine in the exclusive Wizard owed restaurant just off Park Lane wasn't just because Draco 'deserved a treat' after all.

"Um—" What on earth was Harry supposed to say to that? If this was indisputably his baby then he'd have made sure he and Draco… Shit.

"We don't know for sure that Harry is the father!" Draco confessed in a rush of air. Followed quickly by, "I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner, but—" Draco closed his eyes, his expression one of pure mortification.

"Oh, Draco, why didn't you say before?" Narcissa's reaction was gentle. "Who's the other potential father?"

"We won't know for certain until the baby is a year old," Harry said, deliberately misunderstanding the question. "I'm going to be here for Draco." Harry reached out and threaded his fingers with Draco's.

Narcissa's eyes narrowed but she didn't press any further. "If you love my son," she stated, her gaze flicking to their joined hands, "You would bond with him regardless of if the baby is yours or not."

"We want to do things in our own time," Harry said, tightening his grip on Draco's hand. This was a nightmare. They were trapped in this no-man's-land and Harry wanted, no, needed, to know if the baby was his. He wanted him so much; the idea of not being the father was getting more and more distressing with each passing week.

"Mother, please, drop it," Draco said quietly, rubbing his twenty week belly. "And please—don't tell father. He's been impossible enough as it is."

"He's coming round slowly. He was talking of a trust fund for the baby the other day. However, I agree, I don't like lying to him, but on this occasion, it may be for the best until you know for sure—no point causing unnecessary distress to any of us."

She signalled the waiter and pushed back her chair. "My coat please," she said when he came scurrying over. "Boys, I trust there are no more surprises?"

"No, Mother," Draco said miserably. "I'll speak to you later in the week."

She leant forwards and kissed Draco's cheek. "Mr Potter," she nodded politely at Harry and allowing the returning waiter to help her into her coat, swept away.

Draco snatched his hand out of Harry's grasp. "Stop touching me," he snapped, rubbing his hand as though Harry was contagious. "Stop pretending."

"That's kind of what we signed up for when we started this deception," Harry replied, bewildered. True, he liked touching Draco, and because of this recent epiphany he'd been trying to avoid him, but all that did was make him even more aware of his proximity.

The waiter brought over the bill and placed it discreetly on the table between them. Harry glanced at it, fished in his pocket for galleons and stood. "Come on," he said. "It's a nice night, we can walk home."

He didn't know what to do. The more time he spent around Draco the more he wanted him: exclusively. The more he wanted him the more awkward he felt. The thing with Ron and Blaise was satisfying in many ways, but he still went to his own bed and slept alone. He hadn't shard a bed since that night he'd stayed with Ron weeks ago. He and Ron— Well, that was what it was, friends with benefits, nothing more—and nothing sexual had happened between just the two of them since Ron had pointed out Harry's feelings for Draco, like Harry hadn't already been twisting it all around in in his head and driving himself crazy. Merlin knew he loved Ron, but not like that and—Blaise and Draco—they were close. Harry just didn't know how close. Was there more there than he'd realised?

He just wanted to stop thinking.

When they stepped outside and were a few metres away from the restaurant entrance Draco snarled, "Aren't you even going to say anything?"

Harry stopped walking. "What about?" He knew very well what Draco was talking about but he was damned if he was going to let himself get drawn in.

"Do you even like me?"

"What? I thought we'd moved past that, Draco, of course I do."

Draco rounded on him and searched his face, which Harry was certain was only reflecting his confusion.

Without warning leant in and kissed him. Harry closed his eyes and let the sensations flood through him. Finally, the voice in his head said dreamily, followed by yes, yes, yes. He groaned and returned the kiss, letting Draco press into him, curl his tongue around his and—Merlin—the slide of a firm hand around the curve of Harry's arse.

How could it be that they'd brought each other to orgasm many times these last few weeks, but never alone, and never with any kind of kissing involved? Kissing Draco was heaven…

Draco pulled back and searched Harry's face. "You have no idea do you?" Draco said with a bitter laugh. "I'll walk myself home if it's all the same to you." Without waiting for a reply he disappeared into the night.

Harry was left standing in the shadows wondering what the hell had just happened.

::o::

Draco entered Grimmauld Place silently, leaning back against the front door with a heavy heart. Why the hell had he done that? Kissing Harry when it was clear that his response was just that of a healthy red blooded male being kissed by another? It was the road to heartbreak.

He should have gone to his lab and hidden there— he didn't know why he hadn't. Harry could return here any moment and Draco wasn't in the mood for his questions.

His lips still tingled from the sensation of having Harry's lips on his.

Draco pushed himself back from the door and headed into the kitchen to get some water before he went up to bed. He opened the door and stopped dead.

Ron was sitting on the counter, legs spread, and Blaise was standing between them with a leg each of his shoulders sucking on Ron's cock. Ron was moaning his pale hand curled around the crown of Blaise's head. Both of them were so into the act that they didn't see Draco's arrival and he would have got away with it too if Harry hadn't come barrelling into the house thirty seconds later calling his name and coming to a stumbling halt next to Draco to the sight before him. "Merlin," he said, eyes wide.

Blaise lifted his head and lazily and smirked in their direction. "Don't just stand there watching," he said, licking his swollen lips. "Join us." He winked and dipped his head back to engulf Ron again.

Draco was about to refuse when he glanced at Harry. Harry would say yes, he knew it. Harry licked his lips and Draco was about to say, 'Try and stop me,' and join in, he wasn't going to let Harry think he that the stupid kiss had meant anything, when Harry shook his head. "Not tonight. You guys have fun though," and with an indecipherable look in Draco's direction, he headed for the stairs.

Without thinking, Draco mumbled something about enjoyment and followed him, not pausing to knock when he reached Harry's bedroom door, barging in and saying, "What the fuck, Potter?"

Harry looked surprised at Draco's arrival. "I thought you'd be joining them," he said, toeing off his shoes and kicking them to one side.

His eyes flicked to Draco's lips briefly and Draco blurted, "Do you even like me?" again. What the hell was wrong with him? It was like he wanted to make himself miserable!

"I told you that I did." Harry eyes were on his lips again and Draco took a step closer. He wasn't sure who moved first, not that it mattered when he found himself lying on the bed with Harry astride him, his hands pinned above his head as he stared up at into the eyes of the man he'd fallen in love with over ten years ago. Harry licked his lips and leant forwards, gently pressing his lips to Draco's. Draco bucked upwards, his cock brushing Harry's inner thighs. He wanted—he wanted so much. Harry grinned into the kiss, nibbling Draco's lower lip, pulling back to whisper, "So much, Draco."

Harry was gentle with him, removing Draco's clothes with care, tracing reverent hands over the swell of his stomach and following their path with tiny kisses, following the trail of pale hair that vanished underneath Draco's trousers, dragging them off him with painful slowness.

Harry didn't speed up as he prepared Draco, stretching him the old fashioned way—fingers and lubricant— that usually got side-stepped in favour of magic when they were with the others. "You look beautiful," Harry said, his voice husky, and bent forwards to suck Draco's length into his mouth. Draco thought he might die from the anticipation of Harry's cock, he'd never wanted to be fucked as much as he did right now.

Draco carded his hands into Harry's hair, pulling him back, shaking his head. "I want you in me."

Harry crawled up, caging Draco in and kissing him again. He then sat back onto his heels and carefully arranged himself between Draco's thighs, one hand ghosting over Draco's bump again, intense concentration on his face as the tip of his cock pressed against Draco's hole.

Draco was torn. He wanted Harry to just fuck him already but at the same time he didn't want to lose this tenderness. "I won't break," he taunted, hoping Harry might get the hint.

Harry pushed in, stilling when his balls tickled Draco's arse, struggling to control his breathing. Draco ground down, bunching his hands in the sheets for leverage. He wrapped his legs around Harry's arse, his thighs resting on Harry's.

"Just fuck me, Harry," he invited, galvanising Harry into life.

"Want you so much," Harry groaned, his face a picture of concentration. He snapped his hips back and thrust, and once that hurdle was removed, there was no stopping him.

Draco was in heaven, loving the feel of Harry inside him, of it just being the two of them, of Harry being his. When Harry wrapped a firm hand around his cock Draco nearly blacked out. The need to come was so strong that he began to see stars. "Harryharryharryharry," he groaned, the pleasure rising in him, Harry's hips starting to snap faster as he neared his own orgasm.

Draco couldn't hold back any longer, coming with force, spraying himself with his own come, coating Harry's hand as he coaxed him through his climax. "Draco!" Harry breathed, stilling his hips as he reached his own release. "Draco."

When their heart rates started to slow, Harry withdrew and moved to lie on his side beside Draco, wrapping his arm around him and laying his head on his shoulder. "Believe me now?" he asked.

Draco closed his eyes and enjoyed the feel of Harry's closeness. "I'm not sure," he said. "You might have to show me again later."

:o:

"I feel like such a lump," Draco complained, lying back on the sofa and manually hoisting his feet up after him. He was thirty-four weeks and he felt ready to pop. Still, even though the healer had said that he'd probably go into labour around thirty-six weeks he still itched for those two weeks to pass yesterday.

"Shove over," Ron said lifting Draco's feet and sliding onto the end of the sofa, placing Draco's feet back onto his lap. "How's our baby?"

Draco nodded down and his protruding stomach. "Here, put your hand on my belly and he'll let you know." He watched in amusement as Ron placed a tentative hand over his abdomen and the baby obligingly aimed a healthy kick at it.

Ron laughed, lifting his hand up and placing it in a different spot and receiving another kick for his efforts. He met Draco's gaze and grinned. "That's just as brilliant as it was the first time!"

Draco couldn't help his answering smile. Over the last few weeks he'd started to feel more comfortable around Ron, the two of them happy in each other's company without other's present, and they were definitely friends. The fact that there had been regular sex between the four of them for a while sort of helped. Even with Draco's pregnant belly, he still got his as much as the next man. "Where's Blaise?"

Ron's face fell. "He's on that shoot with Harry. He said he'd be home sometime tomorrow evening."

"You don't look very happy about it."

"They're staying overnight in Paris," Ron said glumly. "They're sharing a room."

"Oh," Draco's heart sank. Blaise and Harry had grown closer over the last few weeks and Draco wasn't certain that they wouldn't be taking advantage of their shared room. Just because Draco hadn't been with anyone other than Harry since the night his mother had tried to get Harry to agree to bond with him, didn't mean Harry hadn't been with Blaise or Ron, or both, without him. They'd never discussed their relationship, if that was even what it was.

The thought made him nauseous. "You're jealous, Ron." Yes, and pot, kettle…

Ron didn't answer, just sighed and sat back against the cushions, one hand resting comfortably on Draco's belly. Draco relaxed as well as he could do knowing that Harry might be fucking Blaise in some overpriced Muggle Hotel in Paris. Paris was oddly lacking in Wizarding society, like a magical dead zone. The main Wizarding population in France was in Quimper.

The weird thing was, when it was just him and Ron alone, nothing sexual had ever happened even back when it had been a free for all. The only time they'd had sex was with Harry and Blaise present and that hadn't happened in months. It had been the same thing with Blaise—the two of them hadn't done anything one on one since before that fateful night. Draco didn't even want to start trying to decipher why that was. He found Ron attractive, he found Blaise attractive, but without Harry—there was no spark.

Ron sighed. "Cup of tea?"

"Yes please."

::o::

"That is the weirdest few hours of my life," Blaise said with a shudder as they escaped out onto the street, finally, after an eternity trapped in cramped seating watching lots of gratuitous topless dancing.

"Agreed," Harry said, stopping to patiently wait for their Muggle colleagues whose idea of a good time had been a show at the Moulin Rouge. Whichever one had said, 'It'll be fun' had better keep quiet about it now. It had been an odd kind of hell. The Muggles shuttled the customers in and out like cattle and gave them a show that was nothing more than mortifying to watch.

"How about we stop at a club?" Janine said.

Blaise looked at Harry and in unison they both said, "No thank you."

They bade their farewells and walked back to their hotel. "Did you want to stop for a drink?" Blaise asked after a few minutes.

"No, I just want to get back, I'm exhausted." It was easy to hide the bags under his eyes with a glamour, but he couldn't hide from himself. He wasn't sleeping well at all. Too much lying awake and worrying.

They chatted about the shoot and the cheesiness of the Moulin Rouge until they were in their hotel room.

"Do you think it vibrates?" Blaise asked as they appraised the gigantic circular bed that took pride of place in the middle of the room. They hadn't done more than throw their luggage in earlier when they'd checked in.

Harry laughed. "Probably."

Blaise coughed and nodded towards the bed. "Um, did you want to—" He paused and an awkward silence descended.

"No, I—" I want Draco.

"I don't know why I asked!" Blaise exclaimed, turning to Harry with a confused expression. "You and I have never…just the two of us. I don't even want to. I mean no offence to you, Harry, but—I'm in love with Ron." As the words left his mouth Blaise clapped his hand over his mouth. "I shouldn't be allowed to drink," he grumbled, dropping down onto the bed with a bounce.

"Why—" Why don't you do something about it? Harry was interrupted by a loud knock on the door. He crossed the room to answer and found a frowning man in a hotel uniform.

"Mr Potter? Mr Zabini?"

"That's us."

"I have an urgent message for you. Someone named Draco has gone into labour."

:o:

"He's so tiny!" Blaise cooed, leaning over the basket and tickling a tiny foot. The baby stared back up at him with wide blue eyes.

The baby was pale with a tuft of light brown downy hair. There was no indication as to who the father was. Blaise had the darkest skin of the three of them, but Harry knew that meant nothing; he remembered Dean's cousin had had a baby with an Irish red head and the baby had been as pale as her mother, the only clue being the eventual change of eye colour to brown.

Harry hadn't held the baby yet, though he was itching to pick him up and hold him close. He was perfect in every way. Ten fingers, ten toes, Draco's nose…

Draco was lying in the hospital bed, half asleep with exhaustion, watching them all fuss over the new arrival through half lidded eyes. Harry wanted to… He moved closer, sat in the chair next to the bed and said, "How do you feel?"

Draco smiled wanly. "I've felt better," he mumbled. Harry took his hand and squeezed.

"He's beautiful isn't he?"

Ron had picked the baby up and was cradling him to his chest with a smitten expression. "Draco, what are we going to call him?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "'We' are not calling him anything. I am calling him Oscar."

Ron stared down at the baby. "Oscar," he said with wonder. " Oscar. I think he likes it."

Draco lifted his head. "Of course he likes it, Weasley. I chose it after all!" He held out an arm. "Can I take him?"

"Do you want to go to Daddy?" Ron said in a baby voice. "Do you?"

Harry and Draco both rolled their eyes as Ron handed the bundle to Draco, forcing Harry to let go of Draco's hand.

Draco stared down at the hour old baby and his face transformed. "Hello, Oscar," he said, a softness to his voice that surprised Harry. "Welcome to the world."

Harry and Blaise had only just made it back from Paris in time for the birth—not that any of them had been allowed to go into the room. They had joined Ron in his pacing outside. Draco's water had broken early and that had been it, time for the baby to be born.

Harry watched Draco and Oscar with a pull in his chest so strong that for a while he thought that there was actually something physically wrong with him. The two of them were his family. He felt that instinctively, his lover and his son. He knew then that he didn't care about the biology of it. He already loved Oscar: what did it matter if he was his biological father? He loved Oscar and he loved Draco.

"Can I—" he started, itching to finally hold Oscar, but was derailed when the door opened and Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy entered. Behind them Ron paled and muttered an excuse and was out of the room before Harry could blink.

"Oh look at him, Lucius, isn't he perfect?" Narcissa somehow managed to block Harry's access to Draco. "Our first grandchild—I can't believe he's finally here!"

Harry glanced up at Blaise who mouthed, "Later," and backed out the door after Ron. Harry closed his eyes and wished.

::o::

Draco surprised himself how well he took to parenting. He'd read up on it during his pregnancy and knew that the parenting instinct didn't come naturally to all, but for him it was just like something clicking into place. He could sense Oscar no matter where he was when he was away from him, could anticipate his needs before the baby started to grumble. He loved the baby more than he'd ever thought possible.

Oscar bore no resemblance to any of his possible fathers, nor to Draco—although Harry swore he had his nose—as though fate was playing a cruel trick on him and making him wait for an answer as long as possible.

All three of the 'fathers' doted on the baby, offering to help Draco with him when he didn't need it, wanting to take him out for walks, each of them taking their turn with nappies and bathing.

The healer had told Draco that in order to mend properly he must abstain from sex for three months. Right now, sex was the last thing on his mind anyway; he was too tired and too sore to even consider it.

When the healer had told him, Harry had been with him at the hospital and he'd flushed a delightful shade of burgundy unbefitting for someone who'd been recently enjoying sex as a foursome for the last several months. The healer had glared at Harry and said, "You'll have to find another outlet for your needs for a while so your partner can heal." Draco's amusement had peaked at Harry's discomfort, imagining him having to sneak off for a furtive wank when Draco and the baby were asleep.

He'd obviously been in some kind of post-birth euphoria because he'd actually seemed to have convinced himself that this really was real and he and Harry were an actual couple. Only his parents believed that.

The healer had meant Harry's right hand, but Draco knew that in their current living situation, Harry had Ron and Blaise, something that only became real to him two weeks after the birth when he'd woken from a nap, the baby in the crib beside him, certain that Harry had just been in the room with him. He'd climbed out of bed and padded to the door to stick his head out. Harry was two doors down, his back to Draco, obviously having knocked the door. Blaise answered and said, "Harry, we were just wondering what was keeping you," and Harry slipped inside.

He really had been kidding himself that in the weeks leading up to the birth he and Harry had become exclusive. How had he been so blind? Harry hadn't said anything and he'd wanted to believe it was real. He'd been foolish to assume that all that time they'd spent just the two of them had meant something.

His seeing Harry going to Blaise's room had been two weeks ago and he'd made up his mind that there would be no more one on one with Harry once he was healed. He was done. He'd wait it out until they could ascertain for certain who Oscar's father was, make some arrangement for access, and he would move on with his life. He'd have a life that didn't include being impossibly in love with Harry sodding Potter for another single day.

"Ah, there you are, Draco," said the man himself, appearing in the kitchen doorway where Draco was preparing a bottle for Oscar. "Would it be alright if I took Oscar to with me this afternoon when I visit Hermione?"

Hermione was another one who doted on the baby, something that Draco encouraged as he felt it was important that Oscar get used to being around women whilst he was living in an all-male household.

"Can I come with you?" he asked, itching to get out of the house. He was trying to act keep things as 'normal' as possible around Harry, he'd be mortified if Harry knew how much he'd bought into this idea that there was something more between them.

Harry beamed. "That would be great. I was trying to give you some peace time to nap, but if you want to come, Hermione would love to see you."

::o::

"How's he coping?" Hermione asked, joining Harry on the sofa, placing a cafetiere of steaming coffee on the table in front of them. Harry craned his head behind him to where Draco was chatting to Viktor on the patio, a squirming Oscar in his arms.

"He's a natural," Harry said turning back to Hermione. "He's so good with him that sometimes I feel like I'm not needed…like we're not needed." He stared down at his hands, twisting them in his lap as he tried to process through his thoughts. He glanced at Hermione who was watching him curiously. "What am I going to do when it turns out he's not mine?"

"Is it Oscar you want, or both of them?"

The blood rushed to Harry's ears, almost deafening him in its intensity. "I don't know how to tell him. Before Oscar was born we were so nearly there, you know? It became just the two of us. Ron and Blaise—they're so into each other, I just think that they were hiding behind me and Draco rather than admit they were an item and when Draco and I paired off they had to face it. Only now they're the ones who have it sorted and I'm the one who still doesn't know where I stand."

Hermione made a sympathetic noise, spurring Harry on.

Harry glanced back at Draco to make sure he was still talking with Viktor before saying, "Now that Oscar's here, Draco's being—I don't know—he's giving us all equal time with Oscar, but I feel like they're mine and—" He broke off, suddenly aware that he was rambling.

"Can't you just talk to Draco?" Hermione asked in that tone that said 'because that would be the logical thing to do'.

"I've tried but he keeps changing the subject when I mention the future."

"So, if Oscar isn't yours will you still want Draco?"

Harry swallowed. The lump in his throat at the thought of losing both Draco and Oscar made it difficult for him to speak. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He couldn't breathe. Was this what a panic attack felt like? Merlin, he could not catch his breath. His eyes widened and he looked at Hermione, his face a mask of fear.

"Oh, God, right—Accio Calming Draught!" Hermione jumped to her feet and caught the vial as it hurtled towards her. "Here—open your mouth, quickly!" Harry nodded, opening his mouth a fraction and Hermione uncapped the vial, held it to his lips and forced his head back so that potion slid down his throat. Instantly the panic slipped away and he could breathe again. He dropped his head to his knees and took a deep breath.

Hermione sat back down beside him and rubbed his back. "Sorry," Harry mumbled into his knees.

"So—it's a fair assumption to say that if Oscar isn't yours you'd still want him and Draco?"

Harry nodded.

"Thought so, you've been obsessed with Draco half of your life. I don't see that changing, anytime soon or ever." Harry was glad Hermione couldn't see his face at that moment, because he was sure how he felt would be stamped across his face. Hermione was right. Draco was it for him. He took another deep breath to compose himself and righted himself. He turned to look outside where Draco had just been and found he wasn't there.

"Where's Draco?" he asked Viktor who was just coming back into the house.

"He went upstairs to change the baby," Viktor answered, coming to sit on the arm of the sofa beside Hermione and wrapping an arm around her. "Oscar is a beautiful child, Harry, you are very lucky."

Harry smiled at Viktor and thought I hope to be. He would talk to Draco. Not today, because he needed to figure out what he wanted to say, but soon. Why the hell hadn't he just been honest with himself sooner?

::o::

"Draco, I need to talk to you about something," Harry said, making Draco jump. He'd been lost in his book, Ron was at work and Blaise had gone out Merlin knew where and he thought Harry was out when he hadn't seen him all morning. Oscar was in his crib next to the sofa, fast asleep.

Draco blinked up at him, trying to keep his expression neutral. He'd seen Harry leaving Ron's room that morning. Before Oscar was born Harry had spent almost every night in Draco's bed. He hadn't come to him once since the birth, proving it was all about the sex for Harry in the end.

He closed his book. "Of course." He swung his legs to the floor and nodded at the other end of the sofa. "What did you want to talk about?"

He watched Harry steel himself and did the same for himself. Do not react; do not show him how much he means to you.

"It's about us." Harry fidgeted with the tiny hole in the knee of his jeans, poking a finger into it and making it bigger. "I know that we've never talked about it before so I don't know how you feel about—"

A loud pitiful wail filled the air from the direction of the crib. Draco offered a prayer of silent thanks to Merlin as Harry jumped up and said, "I've got him," and walked over to the crib to pick up Oscar. "Hello little one, how can I be of service today?"

Oscar stopped crying and looked into Harry's eyes with adoration. Draco couldn't deny that Harry had a certain way with him.

"He's probably hungry," Draco offered. "He's due a feed soon. The bottle's in the fridge if you want to do it. In fact, that'd help me out a lot as I'm going out a bit later and need to get ready."

"Oh. Are you taking Oscar?"

"No, well I was hoping one of you would be able to babysit?"

"Of course," Harry said. "Um, Draco—"

"I'll try not to be back too late. It's only a first date so I doubt I'll be out all night, and it's not as though I'm allowed to—you know—yet, so—"

"A date?" Harry's voice was barely a whisper. "But I thought—"

"We agreed that we would all live here together until we find out about paternity. Nothing was said about dating people outside of the house. I bumped into Oliver Wood the other day after I met Mother for tea at Georgina's and we got talking—did you know he was gay?—anyway, he asked me out. He met Oscar so it's not like that's going to be a problem."

"Right. Well, that's nice, give him my best wishes would you?" Harry stared down and the baby and said, "Come on you, time for your dinner." He smiled at Draco and headed for the kitchen, looking for the world to see like a kicked puppy.

Draco rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms and said into thin air, "That went well." What had he expected? He'd only bumped into Oliver Wood and chatted for a minute, Oliver had hit on him, Draco had said that he'd send him an owl if he felt like going for a drink—he'd no intention of going through with it—yet the moment Harry wanted to talk he could think of nothing else but making him jealous and for that it had to be someone who wasn't Ron or Blaise.

Shit. Now he'd have to owl Wood and see if he was free for a drink, and if not, hide out at Pansy's for the evening. What the hell was wrong with him? Why couldn't he just confront Harry? Before Oscar's birth they'd been on the verge of something he was certain of it, although now he was starting to think it was all in his head. Everything was about sex. As soon as that was off the table he became invisible.

He stood and pushed open the kitchen door enough to peek through. Harry was testing the temperature of the milk he'd just warmed with magic and screwing the bottle lid on one handed whilst he balanced Oscar on in the other arm. They looked adorable together. It broke Draco's heart a little more to see them.

"Your Daddy's got a date tonight, Oscar," Harry said to the baby as he sat down in the big armchair in the corner that Draco had transfigured from an old wooden chair for that very purpose of feeding Oscar. "What do you think about that, hmm?"

Draco retreated. He had an owl to send.

::o::

"I've blown it completely," Harry said miserably, idly playing with Oscar's bare toes as he slept peacefully in Harry's arms. "Oliver Wood!"

"Mate, calm down," Ron soothed. "I thought you were going to tell him how you felt?"

Harry had confided in Ron the other day. It had been a mutual exchange of confidences, with Ron sharing his concerns that Blaise was getting bored now it was just the two of them with no chance of a third or fourth in Harry and Draco. They'd discussed for the first time that they hadn't done anything sexual with one another alone since the night of Draco's first scan at twelve weeks. After that it had just never occurred to them. "Back then I'd have blown you to cheer you up," Ron had said, and Harry had replied, "I would have let you," and they'd stared at each other in surprise. "Now I don't want you to."

Ron had asked him if he'd ever fucked Blaise without him or Draco there and the answer had been no, the same for Ron and Draco. It had only ever happened when they were all there, until it stopped and they'd paired off.

Now Harry could only say in reply to Ron, "I was trying to tell him when he told me he was going out with Oliver tonight. I'd almost let myself believe that he could feel the same way. I'm such an idiot!"

"No—Alright, yes you are, but no more than me. If Blaise hadn't put his cards on the table after your trip to Paris then I'd be still wondering if he gave a shit about me, so—"

"We've never been the most observant have we?" Harry joked feebly. "Remember when Hermione had it so bad for you and you had no idea?"

"You can talk, mate—remember Ginny?"

How could Harry forget? He'd actually kissed her to avoid hurting her feelings, which had obviously turned out to be a bad move.

"So you and Blaise are doing alright?"

Ron beamed, his eyes turning hazy, reminding Harry of when he was under the effects of Romilda's love potion back in sixth year. "We're giving it a go, yes," he said dreamily.

"I'm pleased for you both." Harry really was but he couldn't help his mind trawling back to the disaster that was his and Draco's non-relationship.

"You've got to tell him, Harry," Ron said sombrely. "Tonight. Before this thing with Oliver becomes more than one date."

Harry felt sick but he knew Ron was right. Oscar stirred in his arms, his eyes opening drowsily and his bottom lips wobbling. "Uh-oh," Harry said, lifting Oscar up higher in his arms. "I think someone needs changing."

"Here," Ron held out his arms. "I'll do it. I'll watch him until Draco comes home, give you chance to talk to him in peace."

"Thanks, Ron," Harry said, handing over Oscar and giving Ron a one armed hug. "You're the best friend a bloke could hope for."

::o::

Draco dragged it out as long as he could at Pansy's. In the end he hadn't bothered to owl Oliver. He didn't want to go out with him. He was stupid to have even said that he was. The last thing he was ready for was to start something new with someone else. He'd just had a baby, he was in love with Harry whether he wanted to admit it or not, and—well, that was it, he was in love with Harry. Despite how much Harry had hurt him that wasn't going to just go away overnight.

"Talk to him," was Pansy's biggest pearl of wisdom for him that night. Luckily she didn't follow it up with a threat of 'or I will' like last time. "Tell him how you feel instead of making assumptions. It's a wonder either of you survived the war, the pair of you are completely clueless!"

So it was with a heavy heart the Draco stepped through the Floo later that evening. He just wanted to curl up in bed with Oscar and pretend nothing was happening. So, obviously, Harry was waiting for him.

"Waiting up for me?" Draco drawled; his heart pounding. "How touching."

Harry stood up. "We didn't finish our conversation earlier."

Draco opened his mouth to reply and realised that his answer was for the question he'd expected Harry to ask—how was your date?—and not to what Harry had actually said. He floundered for a moment, searching for a response. "Go on," he finally managed.

"I'm just going to come out and say it, because if I don't do it now then I might never do it and—" Harry began to pace. "I don't want you seeing other people. I want more than anything for Oscar to be my baby. I'm in love with you, Draco." The words flew from Harry's mouth at speed.

Draco knew he must be gaping wide enough to catch flies. "But—I heard Hermione ask you if you'd still want me if Oscar wasn't yours and you shook your head."

"I was having a panic attack, so what I was doing with my head bears no direct correlation with my actual thoughts! Is that why you've been so weird the last couple of weeks?"

Draco felt himself flush. "You, Ron and Blaise though, you're still… I saw you going into Blaise's room and Blaise said they were just wondering what was keeping you!"

Harry's brows drew together in confusion. "What are you talking about? I never… Oh, no, I know when you mean and believe me, there was absolutely no shagging. Trust me, please." He chewed his lip and said, "Me and Ron talked about the sex thing earlier actually and we both realised that since it started with the four of us, me and him just stopped the casual thing we had going. I never joined with them without you there before or after we stopped doing the group thing."

"Can we just rewind to the part where you're in love with me?" Draco felt his heart rate quicken and the smile that appeared on his face didn't seem to want to be quashed. He believed Harry was telling the truth about whatever he was doing in Blaise's room, Harry had always been a terrible liar and there was no sign of that now. He took a step closer to Harry who had stopped pacing and was watching him with hungry eyes. How had Draco missed this? "You really mean it?"

Harry nodded, stepping closer still and wrapping an arm around Draco. "I really do."

"What about Oscar?"

"Him too. Doesn't matter who turns out to be his father."

Draco was grinning so hard his face hurt. "Just us from now on? Me, you and Oscar?"

"Just the three of us."

:o:

"I'm scared to open it." Draco held the scroll tightly in his hand, almost crushing it.

"Seriously?" Ron huffed, jigging Oscar on his knee. The one year old threw his chubby arms in the air and giggled. "You're really worried about the outcome?"

Blaise, one arm slung casually around Ron chuckled. "Have you even looked at your son lately?"

Draco flushed. "Of course I have, but how do I know that green eyes aren't some dominant gene in your family? Or that out of control black hair isn't a Weasley family throwback?"

"Look, mate, me and Blaise have come to terms with the fact that Oscar is Harry's. We're happy to be the cool uncles, right kiddo?" Ron lifted Oscar's t-shirt and tickled his tummy earning another bout of giggles.

"For Merlin's sake, give it here," Hermione said, prising the scroll off Draco and breaking the seal. She winked at Harry who until this point had sat silently beside Draco, feeling as nervous as he was. What if Oscar's colouring was a red herring? He wouldn't love him any less, he knew that, but it would complicate matters. Hermione unravelled the parchment slowly, her face splitting into a smile as she read out, "Parent number one, Draco Malfoy-Potter, parent number two, Harry Malfoy-Potter."

Harry felt the tension ease out of him and the death grip Draco had on his hand lessened. "Well, I guess that's that," he said, leaning over and kissing Draco's cheek.

They'd had the bonding ceremony just over two months after they'd finally got their act together, Harry proposing to Draco half way up the cliff path near the Shell Cottage when they borrowed it for a weekend away. Oscar was on Harry's back like a squirming rucksack, the sun was out and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. It had taken Draco about half a second to accept. At the bonding ceremony Lucius had even smiled at Harry, which was a first.

"Actually, we didn't want to say until the results were in," Blaise started, taking Ron's hand. "We're having a baby. Ron's pregnant!"

The small gathering around the kitchen table at Grimmauld Place erupted in congratulations. Harry leaned into Draco and whispered, "Want to make you pregnant again."

Draco leant back in and said, "Already am."

Harry felt the start of his second ever panic attack.