Chapter Two—Stirring Up A Monster

In order for this plan to work, Draco had to get the spell a hundred percent correct and he couldn't very well practice it in his office could he? The other Unspeakables have already accused him of using dark spells before (he doesn't, he just learns them) just to get him fired as they "didn't feel safe working with a Death Eater", it didn't make for a "very conducive working environment". Draco knew that they would take this as another chance to turn him in and he didn't want to risk getting sent to Azkaban (and leave Harry vulnerable to his preying admirers) so, Draco decided, why not bring it home?

It's considerably easy to smuggle things out of the Department of Mysteries if anyone wishes to know. Well, as long as you have access to it. And Draco did. Really, the security in the Ministry was slacking. No wonder the Dark Lord had taken over so easily in the Second Wizarding War.

Draco shoved the book in his Unlimited Space leather bag (an anniversary gift from Harry) that he always carried around with him—because it was damn useful, not because he was secretly a sap who wanted to hang on to the thing that Harry specially made for him—before heading towards the Auror department.

Ever since Harry and Draco had started dating, they had picked up a routine. The person who was let off work first would wait for the other. However, because Harry couldn't enter the Department of Ministries (being the Boy-Who-Lived didn't get you everything) as he was considered unregistered personnel, Draco would usually be the one waiting for Harry outside his office. It happened so often that now Weasley didn't even bat an eyelash whenever he saw Draco tapping his feet impatiently outside their joint Auror office. Sad really, Draco had very much enjoyed making the Weasel gape and splutter when his and Harry's relationship had first taken off. Well, it had been fun whilst it lasted.

When he finally arrived at his destination and was about to make his appearance known by entering, he heard voices coming from the other side of the thin wooden door. They were both male; one of them Draco immediately recognized as Harry's but the other was certainly not Weasley's. Draco tensed and his grip on the doorknob tightened. His chest gave an unwelcomed little squeeze.

But he was being completely irrational wasn't he? Harry always did say he jumped to conclusions too quickly. But to be sure…

Draco hesitated for a short moment before quietly easing the door open just a bit so that he could make out two figures talking from the tiny gap. Harry was talking with a tall, built brunet, too busy conversing to realise that Draco was there eavesdropping. Draco felt like vomiting out his lunch. It wasn't due to the other bloke's handsome features, nor was it due to the fact that he was so blatantly flirting with his Harry (though those were both contributing factors), it was because of the look on Harry's face.

That beautiful smile and sparkling eyes that were only reserved for Draco was being aimed at another man and Draco felt his anger boil. Jealousy—pure and unadulterated—surged through Draco's veins. This was the reason why Draco had to execute his plan as soon as possible. Draco couldn't trust any men around Harry, they all wanted to take Harry away from him. And from where Draco was standing, one of them was succeeding. That was not on. No one was taking Harry away from him.

But at the moment, in a pique of anger and sheer pettiness, Draco stormed away, flooing back to his and Harry's shared apartment. He had a spell to master.

Marem Gravidem. Marem Gravidum. Draco practiced for the umpteenth time. Just the thought of what he had witnessed just an hour prior spurred him on. He needed this to work for surely Harry was slipping away every second this spell wasn't cast. It didn't occur to Draco how insecure and irrational he was behaving—even more extreme than his usual standard.

Concentrate Draco, concentrate, he thought as he once again performed the spell, practicing the wand movement— a large circular followed by a sharp jab to the centre—smirking as he casted it perfectly yet another time.

Yes, Draco was certain that he was ready to cast it. He had mastered the spell in under two hours. He would have been proud if only his mind wasn't stuck on the tantalizing idea of making Harry fully his, implanting his child in Harry. The very idea caused Draco to preen and shiver in anticipation.

He glanced at the book for one last practice but was shocked to realise that the information had disappeared. Quirking an eyebrow, Draco picked it up and flipped through the book, encountering nothing but pristine white pages. Draco stared at the book in disbelief. Had he imagined the whole thing? No, Draco was absolutely positive that the book had been chock full with information just a minute ago but before he could inspect it again, the Floo flared green and out popped a flustered looking Harry Potter.

"Draco? Are you he—oh," Harry visibly relaxed as his eyes landed on Draco. He immediately walked up to Draco, not bothered by the dust tracks he was leaving behind him, and gave him an enormous hug.

"I thought something happened to you," Harry finally said after gripping tightly onto Draco for the past five minutes. "You weren't waiting outside my office and when I went looking for you at yours, you weren't there and they said you'd left and—" Harry took a deep breath before continuing. "I searched the entire Ministry for you and I thought someone had taken you. Why weren't you outside my office? You said we were going out for dinner right after work. What are you doing at home?" Harry's Auror mode seemed to take over as he threw the questions at lightning speed.

Draco felt a bit guilty for causing Harry to worry, knowing that Harry got threats on a daily basis from anonymous senders, but narrowed his eyes before saying in a cold voice, "I'm sorry but I thought you were too busy flirting with that bloke to go out for dinner with me."

"What?" Harry exclaimed at Draco's ridiculous accusation. "I wasn't—"

Harry noticed the emotionless look on Draco's face, the Malfoy mask that Draco adopted whenever he felt was revealing vulnerability, and his gaze softened. He pulled Draco into another smoldering hug before explaining.

"You've got it all wrong Draco. He's got a wife for Godric's sake! We were talking about you."

Draco's heart skipped a beat as he heard that, relishing in the love he could hear in Harry's voice, and realised that he had completely misread the situation.

"He said that he was in charge of a project—he wouldn't tell me what—and he wanted you to help with it. See Draco? People can see you've changed and soon, everyone will know that you mean well. You have no reason need to feel jealous at all. I've told you that I love you and only you. I'm never going to leave for somebody else. Got it?" Harry said.

Draco nodded dumbly and before he knew it, Harry had pushed him towards their green and red couch (it was a horrid colour combination, making their living room perpetually Christmas-y, but it was a compromise that they had made as neither of them had wanted to back down, even over such a silly thing) and was straddling him.

"Harry?" Draco breathed. "What are you doing?"

"Why I'm just showing how much I love you. And I love you very, very much," Harry said slyly as he grinded his erection into Draco's own growing one.

"Oh." Draco said in a daze, "Don't you want to go for dinner?"

"No. I'm hungry for something else right now. Dinner can wait." Harry said huskily as he slid his hand under Draco's uniform shirt.

Draco didn't need any convincing and soon, pants and gasps of "Harder!" could be heard from their bedroom.

After they were both sated and Draco pulled out of Harry with a wet plop, they laid in bed snuggling, deciding to forego dinner for tonight.

"So, how was work today?" Draco asked conversationally.

"Really? After that brilliant bout of shagging you ask me about work? How romantic." Harry teased.

"Oh shut up and just tell me," Draco said, tightening his grip on Harry's waist and pulling him closer.

Harry yawned and began, "Today was actually a great day. Do you remember the Neal case I mentioned a couple of weeks ago? The crazy one who fancied himself to be the next Volde—" Harry felt Draco wince and corrected, "sorry, You-know-who?"

"You mean Wilbert Neal?" Draco questioned.

"Yeah him. Remember how I told you how he worshipped You-know-who? We finally caught him today. Good thing too. He had books on Horcruxs for crying out loud! Thank Merlin he hadn't made any yet! I really don't need another You-know-who running about. Which reminds me, the freakin' Ministry should burn those accursed books but no! 'This books still hold valuable information that the Unspeakables can use and it will be safe in the Department of Ministries'" Harry said in a poor imitation of Alonso Florez's—the recently elected Minister of Magic—voice. "Well then how did Neal get his filthy hands on it in the first place! Unspeakables not doing their jobs…" Harry muttered, eyes starting to close. Shagging always did make Harry sleepy, especially after a rant.

Draco cleared his throat when nothing else was said but it was too late, Harry had already fallen asleep. Draco rolled his eyes and brushed Harry's soft black hair, smiling fondly at him. Harry looked so adorable and peaceful whenever he slept. How Draco had ever managed to snag someone as perfect as Harry was a mystery to him. Draco frowned at the thought, memories of what he had been doing before flooding back to him, as well as the images of Harry and the tall brunet. Draco knew now that the brunet hadn't been coming on to Harry but Draco still believed that one day, Harry might leave him, no matter what he said to Draco now. So he still had to go along with his plan. It was the only way.

Draco slowly slid off their four-poster bed, hands roaming the floor, searching for the wand he had carelessly thrown to the ground in the heat of the moment. Got it! Draco smiled as his hand touched thin, polished wood.

He picked his hawthorn wand up before heading back to bed. This was his chance. Draco felt a small prickling of guilt as he lifted his wand to cast the spell on Harry. It's okay, an unfamiliar voice in his mind tried justifying his actions, Harry wants children too. So it's okay. It's not a dark spell; you read the entire piece of information to be sure of that. Just cast the spell. The voice insisted. What's the worst that can happen?

And so Draco did. As he casted the spell, he felt a wave of magic flow over him and his heart felt a little heavier. But that didn't matter, Draco convinced himself, and he associated it to the guilt of betraying Harry's trust in him.

As Draco cuddled Harry from behind, revelling in his unique scent, his last thought before drifting off was 'What's the worst that can happen?'