Disclaimer: I think we all know who this belongs to.
They discussed the pregnancy in a-more or less-calm, civilized manner.
There had been a few flare ups, a near fist fight and plenty of sniping between the two Potters and Draco, but Astoria had remained aloof throughout it all, instead sitting with a pleased, slightly disturbing gleam in her eye and putting her opinons in occasionally.
It was agreed that Scorpius and Albus would come out as a couple in the week-before the press got wind of the true situation. That way, the wizarding would already be used to the idea of a former Death Eater's son and a Potter together.
"And hopefully," Draco grumped, "when they discover that you've-somehow-copulated, they'll think it romantic instead of a freak accident that really makes me wish I had a time turner. Or made Scorpius go to Durmstrang."
"Are you calling our grandchildren freak accidents?" Harry had snapped, then blanched. "Merlin, that sounds weird."
This was followed by a large discussion about sensitivity and what you could and could not call the future Potter-Malfoys. Then, Draco irritably asked why the name Potter was going to be first, which meant another small argument that finished unresolved, because it was getting a bit out of hand and Headmistress used the 'Professor' voice on the adults.
They then moved onto living arrangements. Scorpius explained the pureblood pregnancy symptoms and his slight dependence on Al. He could tell that it pleased his father, even in this situation-though the Malfoy line wasn't going to be completely pure anymore, it was, at least, pure enough for him to experience them.
His Head Boy quarters, the parents all agreed, weren't big enough to house two people, and certainly not when one was carrying an extra three. So they got extra rooms that were normally used for teachers.
"I don't like it," Ginny had said when the idea was presented. "It's like we're rewarding them for getting Scorpius up the duff."
They had begun to do this, during the meeting. Talk about the boys as if they weren't there. It irritated Al to no end, but he was glad just to be still alive and breathing. And not with his babies being shipped with Scorpius to China. So he kept his mouth shut, for the most part.
"Techinically, they didn't know it was possible," Harry said resonably. "And you know how you were when you were pregnant with Jamie and the rest. Knocking things over and such. I remember the time you just burst into tears, because you thought the house was shrinking-"
"They can get the rooms," Ginny said frostily.
Then there was Quidditch.
"If Scorpius has to quit, then Potter has to as well!" Draco insisted.
This was one of the times that Albus opened his mouth. "That's a bunch of bollocks!" he exclaimed at the same time that his parents made outraged noises.
But Draco was firm. "They are supposed to be together in everything, yes? How do you think Scorpius will feel when he's on the ground, bloated with swollen feet and an aching head while Al flaunts that he can still play?"
Albus sat back, feeling guilty. He hadn't thought of that. How was he going to do this if he didn't think about things like that?
Harry opened his mouth. Closed it. Exchanged a look with his wife, who's brow was furrowed in thought. "Well, that's actually-"
"I'll be fine," Scorpius said quietly. "Al can play."
Albus looked at the blond haired boy, who suddenly appeared very small in his chair. He knew that the Slytherin loved to fly as much as he did. It was in their blood, one of the many things that they had in common.
He wanted to hug him again. Maybe just stay like that for a while, with his arms around the smaller boy.
"No," he said instead. "That's all right-I'll quit."
Scorpius looked at him, while his parents stared in shock. "Don't. You'll just resent me for it later, along with everyone else. I've already been training the Slytherin seeker to take my place for the upcoming game and resigned myself to the situation. I've had a while; even though I didn't know what was going on, I still couldn't rise five feet in the air in the summer without being sick."
Ginny nodded grimly. "It was the same for me. I hated it, but then the children were born and then..."
The two shared a look, and Albus knew that he didn't have to worry about his mother hating the idea of Scorpius anymore. At least, not now. She'd have to think about it, process, but she was on their side.
"I-" Albus started, but Scorpius looked at his father, then the headmistress.
"He'll stay on the team," the Slytherin said in the same tone that Astoria had used earlier.
Amelia smiled gently. "Well all right, then. If you say so." She looked over there shoulders, suddenly. "And here comes Madamoiselle Pomfrey now."
At that point, the woman entered the office, her presence announced by the clacking of her sensible heels on the marble floor.
She rounded the corner, her arms full of books, a pen in her hair and her clipboard on top of the stack. Albus got up to help her with them, and they set everything on the headmistress's desk.
"Good morning, all," she said in her usual brisk tone. Even though she was nearly ten years younger than them, the young woman commanded a sense of respectability. It had all of the adults sitting up straighter in their chairs. "Ginny, Harry, wonderful to see you."
"I suppose it's not wonderful to see me," Draco muttered under his breath.
"And you, Mr. Malfoy, Mrs. Malfoy."
Astoria hummed. Layla looked, for a moment, as if she wanted to snap her fingers in front of the woman's face or something of the like, then shook her head. "I suppose she didn't take the news well?" She asked as she began unstacking papers, old books that looked like they'd fall apart at any moment.
"Oh, no," Scorpius said. "She actually took the news rather well."
"Too well." Draco glowered at his wife, who still didn't notice. She'd faded again. "She's in her happy place."
"Ah." Layla said. "Well, good. They're going to need all the support they can get. Now, I took the liberty of going to the library and checking out some books on the phenomenon of male preganancy and some on regular magical pregnancy. Albus, Scorpius, parents, I want all of you set aside some reading time to go through every page of these books."
They all stared at the enormous pile. It wasn't so much the amount as the size that made it so huge.
"Dibs on the smallest book," Draco said quickly.
Harry scowled. "Damn it."
"Harry!" Ginny swatted his arm. Bravely picked up a book on the top of the pile, which was so faded you could barely see the title.
As Layla began briefing Scorpius and Albus's parents on what they'd learned the afternoon before, the boys quietly began sifting through the information that the young woman had brought them.
"It says here that I might want to eat glass?" Scorpius looked a bit sick as he read the book in a hushed voice.
"Don't worry. I'll stop you." Albus told him.
"That's if you can. It also says that anything standing between a pregnant woman and her meals are dead, basically."
"Well, you're a guy."
"Doesn't that just make it worse? I can throw a good punch."
Albus paused, considering. "If it comes to that," he finally said, "Please stay away from my face and lower areas. Those are sort of important."
Scorpius smirked. "No promises."
"That's reassuring."
"I know." Scorpius flashed a wicked grin that reminded Albus that the boy was in Slytherin. Not only in Slytherin, but ran the entire house with an iron fist. He'd once watched the blond berate seventh years while he was still in his fourth. He was the bloody Head Boy.
And Albus was made the unofficial spokesman for Gryffindor-despite how much he ran from the title. People went to him with their problems before they went to Neville, who was the head of the house.
If there were two guys that could pull this off and make it out relatively unscathed, it would be them. Hell, Albus's dad had to defeat a Dark Lord in his seventh year! This was only unplanned pregnancy! They could do this! They could-!
There was a loud, groaning sound.
"Erm," Scorpius said faintly.
And then he tipped his head down and vomited on Al's shoes.
The sick was Evasceo'd quickly, but the Astoria insisted that Scorpius needed some air. The rest agreed, so they left. Albus got the feeling that they just wanted to speak in private.
Al didn't mind the mess, not really. But Scorpius kept on apologizing miserably as they left out.
"My uncle runs a joke shop," Al assured him, carrying both of their books. The Gryffindor had picked a slightly large book on the last case of male pregnancy, while Scorpius had gone with a huge tome on pregnancies, symptoms, stages, and potions that could be brewed to help. "My family has babies all the time. I'm used to being sicked on. Really."
"But-"
"Think about it this way: I'm half the reason that you're puking all the time. It makes sense that you get a bit of revenge. In fact, I am your personal slave for the next seven months: your wish is my command. You can even kick me when it gets bad. Just, you know," Albus said quickly, "not in the places where I specified earlier."
The Slytherin considered, tilting his head to the side in a slightly more than adorable way. Nodded. "Fair point. Really fair point. Do remember that you said that, Albus."
"I'm going to regret that, aren't I?" Albus asked, only half joking.
"Yes. Yes you are. Now: Can we get something to eat? We skipped breakfast and I'm starving."
"Right." The dark haired boy nodded firmly. "To the kitchens."
They walked in silence, each involved in their own thoughts. Scorpious concentrated on not smacking his lips, as he still had a phantom-taste from the stomach acids.
He kept on sneaking glances at the dark haired boy that he was walking beside. Aside from the minor panic attack he'd had yesterday and blurting out their little predicament, he seemed to be taking this abnormally well.
As a matter of fact, Scorpius was too. He was pretty sure that the reality of the situation would completely land at some point, but for now, he was content to amusedly think about the discussion in the office. Now that the boys were gone the adults would surely be having more serious words.
His smirk disappeared at his father's reaction to the pregnancy.
Thank Merlin for Mother.
And then he remembered what his mom had revelaed, and he could have been sick all over again.
No. No thank Merlin for Mother.
'Our son is in love-'
Merlin,
he could have just died right there. Right in the prinicpal's cushy conjured chair. Albus wasn't saying anything about it-maybe he'd forgotten about Astoria's little slip?
Scorpius fervently hoped he had. Otherwise, he'd have to AK himself.
A rolling in his stomach had him snapping out of his thoughts.
Or not.
It was going to take some serious adjustment, getting used to thinking for three more. And they weren't even here yet.
God, where was his favorite little therapist when he needed him?
Class, Scorpius's mind helpfully supplied. Where he'd be if he wasn't meeting his and Albus's parents because of...
And it went right back to the main problem, didn't it?
He was brought out of his thoughts by a faint touch on his elbow. Even through the cloth of his robes-which he was still wearing, despite the fact that he'd been sweating bullets back in the office: the sight of his stomach might have straight killed his father-he could feel a surge of magic, going straight through his body to his stomach. It was a very pleasant feeling.
The Slytherin belatedly realized that he'd been about to run straight into the fruit portrait. Giving the Gryffindor a faintly thankful glance, he eagerly reached forward and tickled the pear. Merlin, but he was hungry...
The portrait slid to the side, revealing Hogwarts' kitchens. Without another glance at the Gryffindor by his side, Scorpius authoritatively tilted his chin up as he looked at the bustling house elves preparing for lunch.
As he prepared to deliever his great, awe-inspiring orders that would have the creatures running to get him what he wanted, a smell hit his nose.
It was...it was...
Sweet Merlin.
Wide, gray eyes searched for that heavenly smell, heedless of the corncerned and slightly scared looks that he was drawing.
"Er, Scorpius..."
There.
Like a honing device, the Slytherin's eyes locked on a wide eyed, tiny house elf clothed in a bright blue tea cosy with the Hogwarts insigna on it, carrying a tray of what appeared to be purple, misshapen gingerbread men. Made out of meat. With mysterious green globs for buttons and white, mayonaise-looking smiles. The other elves parted for him like he was the Dark Lord in the middle of Diagon Alley-with the horrified looks.
There was no distinctive odor around them, but Scorpius swore that he could smell something that him him like a siren's call. He took one, dazed step forward.
"You," he said loudly, barely able to talk with the saliva filling his mouth. "With the big eyes and the perrywinkle tea cozy."
The elf froze in place. And then he whirled around, trembling like one of the firsties when they pissed Zabini off. The tray rattled in his tiny hands and his eyes were wider than bludgers.
"I's didn't make anything illegal this time, sirs." He whimpered in a high pitched, shaky voice. "Swear it on my life. Mimzy lies about the student that grew tails-"
"Never mind that," Scorpius said, a glazed look in his eyes. "Bring that tray here."
The little elf brightened instantly, seeing the look. He knew hunger when he saw it. Scurrying over and ignoring the sneers of the other elves, he skidded to a stop in front of the blonde and held the tray high.
Scorpius did not hesitate. A hand swooped down to pick up one of the finger sized things and shove it-
Whack!
The piece of meat flew to the ground.
Albus seemed as shocked as Scorpius. They stared at each other, mouths opened, before the Malfoy's eyes narrowed to silver slits. His fists clenched at his sides.
"Albus Potter," he hissed in a way that put snakes to shame. "Did we not, just five minutes ago, have a conversation where it was clear that you would not get between me and my food?"
The Gryffindor swallowed, hard, then pointed a shaking, accusing finger at the innocent-looking house elf. "That's different! That's-that's Kyser. As in, the elf that poisoned that kid in Hufflepuff. Remember him? The nice one who'd taken a sample of his food and ended up in the infirmary for two weeks with purple and yellow fur?"
"Master Albus be right!" Rissy proclaimed, shoving her way through the house elves agressively. "Master Addict be sick in the head to eat such nasty things-"
Kyser gasped, looking deeply scandalized. Wide eyes latched onto the house elf, who stood a good three inches over the tinier one. "Rissy!"
"Is true!" The elf affirmed vehemently.
"Potter." Scorpius's voice was dangerously low. "Did your elf just call me 'sick in the head'?"
"Just wait a minute, please," Scorpius said. Clearing his throat and plastering a smile onto his face, he went on a knee in front of the tinier elf. "Kyser," he said pleasantly, "Just what is in that?"
The elf blinked innocently. "My Mujufoos?"
There was a long pause. "Yes."
"Well," Kyser's eyes visibly began to shine as he recited, "Pork of pig, pepper, sugar, salt, horse radish, pumpkin spice, radishes and a little bit of Munjune blood." Well, that explained the purplish color.
"And the green stuff?" Albus asked warily. With Kyser's list, Scorpius had only seemed to grow more eager.
"Wasabi!" The elf cried in a delighted voice.
"See, Potter? You worry far too much."
And with a happy smirk, Scorpius took one of the grotesque things from the tray and happily munched into it.
Rissy threw her long eared head back and wailed.
After convincing Rissy that Master Addict was not, in fact, going to die of food poisoning and extracting a promise from Kyser that he'd make more if they asked (the elf had tearfully agreed, ecstatic that someone actually wanted to stomach one of his experiments), they left, Albus with a couple of sandwiches that Rissy had slapped together and Scorpius happily munching his...Muju-whatever.
Albus, unable to quite stifle his curiousity and natural Gryffindor bravery, had begged a corner of it off of the possesive blond.
Never again,
the dark haired boy vowed, his stomach rolling as he remembered the taste. It was like eating chewy, slightly bacon-tasting fire. How the blond could stand the heat, he did not know.
Along with Kyser's Mujus, Scorpius had also eaten two hamburgers with pepper-speckled strawberry ice cream (another apparent favorite-Albus had barely been able to look at him), two pickled quail eggs and a large glass of normal Coke.
And yet, he was still eating.
Albus dimly wondered, as they walked back to the Headmistress's office, who would win in an eating contest between the Slytherin and his Uncle Ron.
Now there was something to ponder.
"Albus?" The blond next to him asked sweetly. The Gryffindor should have taken that as warning-there was nothing sweet about Scorpius Malfoy. Unless he looked small or was sleeping, of course.
The Gryffindor smiled naively, turning to look at the boy beside him.
A sharp, just shy of painful, spark hit his bum. He yelped loudly, jumping about a mile in the air before turning to glare at the smirking Slytherin. "What the hell-"
"You will never smack my hand again. Clear?"
The young Potter could only rub his seriously stinging bum and watch as the Slytherin haughtily continued on his way, humming slightly.
Emerald eyes narrowed.
Oh, it's on.
Uh oh! *Grins evilly* Albus is upset! Any guesses as to why? And the next chapter they meet up with their parents again, along with other surprises...