(A/N: This chapter seemed to really want some flashbacks, so they're in italics.)
"Harry?" Draco whispered, looking down slightly to see if Harry was still awake. A sleepy hum was his only answer, but at least it was something to indicate the other man wasn't asleep just yet (though by the sound, he would be shortly).
He almost felt bad keeping Harry from sleep, it had been a long day and Harry was starting to tire easily. He was fiddling with the ring around Harry's finger as their hands rested on Harry's stomach and he found himself nearly mesmerized by the image. He felt incredibly sappy, feeling virtually breathless with love and other Hufflpuffly things.
"Do you remember the first time we got together?" Draco asked quietly. He couldn't help thinking about their past, staring off numerous times that day lost in memories. He gave his head a slight shake, looking down again to see if Harry would respond.
Harry hummed again, the memory quite clear. He smiled; still surprised by both their actions even years later. "Yeah," he mumbled, his voice slightly muffled by Draco's chest. "I thought you were going to hex my arse," he said, squashing the urge to giggle. He watched Draco's pale fingers fidget with the band on his finger and smiled. Even with the pleasant warm weight encircling his finger, he still thought he was dreaming. Draco had proposed and he said yes (even if it hadn't been 'appropriate' this time, he would've, he couldn't have been able to say 'no' twice). They were getting married. It was surreal but amazing; he fought the urge to pinch himself.
"I was," Draco said with a chuckle. "I was so pissed."
Harry hummed again, agreeing completely.
It had been the first time he had seen Draco in weeks, after all the press died down a bit after the war and he had bumped into the blonde in Diagon Alley. Unsurprisingly, before he could offer apologies, Ron was sneering and starting the name calling.
Harry had tried to be mature about the situation, but his words quickly got lost between the arguing wizards. Things were strained enough between him and Ron at the time; Harry was still working through his anger and trying to forgive the hostile red-head for their last fight. He had been having a hard time not yelling at Ron along with Malfoy.
"Shut it, Potter," Draco sneered, a finger pointing angrily in Potter's face. He hadn't left his house in weeks and it seemed just like his rotten luck to bump into the fucking Golden Boy and his red-headed pet Weasel when he finally did. Unsurprisingly, the red-headed oaf's face went past a dark pink and was now nearly purple and he started yelling all sorts of tired old phrases at him.
He tuned out after 'slimy Slytherin git' since nothing was new or even interesting. Potter had to physically step in and had immediately gotten his attention. He probably wouldn't have started in on the bloke if he'd actually listened to what Potter had been saying.
"I'm not one of the simpering masses that wants to kiss your arse," Draco said coolly, looking down his nose at Potter. Which was quite easy since the git was still rather short.
Harry felt his hands clench into fists. "I know that, Malfoy," he said through gritted teeth. He took a deep breath, his eyes closing for a moment as he reined in his temper. "I was just trying to say I don't give a bloody flying fuck about that. I was trying to say we're adults now, not scared children, and I don't give a bloody shit about Houses or who fought on what side." He leveled a sincere look at Malfoy, trying to will the stubborn blonde to hear him and not haul off and punch him.
Everything went quiet for several moments. It was a tense silence and all three men found themselves holding their breaths and glaring at each other with quick, darting glances.
Draco stood, staring blankly at Potter, trying to figure out what was going on. Was the man serious? How on earth did he miss that? He glared at Weasley, cursing the stupid man again. If he hadn't been so damned focused on his childish words, he might've heard Potter the first time and not immediately wanted to hex his (admittedly nice) arse up and down the Alley. If he was serious, that was.
As he glared at the other man, he tried to sort out if Potter had suddenly become adept at deception.
Ron was staring too, shock clear on his face as he looked between Harry and Malfoy. He couldn't believe Harry was saying such things! Since when he give a toss about Malfoy? Since when did Harry find it in his stupid, hero heart to forgive the slimy git for everything he had done? He glared at Harry, annoyed all over again with the changes dumped on him recently. He was still struggling with Harry breaking it off with his sister, and being gay for fuck's sake, but this... this was hard to swallow.
He wouldn't stand for his friend trying to be nice to a Slytherin, it would just be too much.
"Really?" Draco drawled, everything about him broadcasting how much he really believed it; which was not at all. He wanted to, though... How much easier would life be if he had one less person out to hex his (perfect) arse whenever he walked the streets? Especially if it was Mr. I-Killed-The-Dark-Lord. The sheep of the Wizarding World would surely follow his example... except for Weasley, if the seething rage was real. He didn't doubt it was.
Harry nodded stiffly. "Really."
Ron spluttered again, his hands waving wildly. "What?! You can't honestly—"
"Ron!" Harry said, turning angry eyes on the red-head. He was not at all surprised to see a vein throbbing dead center on Ron's forehead and angrily narrowed blue eyes. Things were strained enough between them, he really didn't want to add one more thing he knew would have Ron pissed at him but he couldn't hold onto childish ideals. It was so bloody exhausting.
He slumped his shoulders. He was so tired to fighting against imaginary foes and holding stupid grudges, he just couldn't do it with his best mate. Not anymore. "I honestly can't keep being angry for something that doesn't matter."
Ron growled and his face shifted into an ugly sneer that put Malfoy's to shame. "Doesn't matter?" he fumed. His mouth opened and closed a few times before he snapped it closed and leveled an angry glare at Harry. "Fine," he said through clenched teeth, turned on his heel and stomped off, muttering darkly.
"Fuck," Harry sighed miserably and ran a hand over his face tiredly. A ranting Ron was almost preferable to a silent one. He tried to find a part of him that wanted to run after the still seething red-head but his feet felt rooted to the spot as he watched Ron stalk off, shoulders stiff.
Draco smirked. Inwardly, he felt a little bad to see the once best friends obviously strained. And it didn't appear to be a new thing. He'd often seen the Weasel stomping away from Potter and he honestly couldn't understand why (or how) Potter kept putting up with the idiot.
He looked at Potter, thankful the other wizard was staring after Weasley with scrunched eyebrows and a frown, unaware he was being closely scrutinized. Outwardly, he sneered. "Poor Potter," he mocked. "Apparently not everyone is lining up to kiss your arse and grovel at your feet."
"Shut up," Harry muttered, not needing the reminder Ron probably hated him. Again. He squeaked when a wand was pressed into his chest and looked down incredulously with wide eyes, his instincts of defense dulled by utter surprise. He mentally rolled his eyes; since when was Draco Malfoy sticking a wand in his face a damn surprise? "What?"
Draco pressed his wand into Potter's chest, poking the man sharply. "Leave me alone," he hissed.
Harry ground his teeth together and tried to calm down. He had been trying to do just that. He watched Malfoy and before the blonde could jab him again, or move his wand to hex him, he pounced.
Draco stumbled back, completely taken by surprise when Potter swung at him, his jaw aching. Unfortunately, he ended up stumbling into a deserted alleyway. Genuine fear prickled through him when he saw Potter's eyes darken with anger and he swallowed thickly. He really didn't have any desire to actually take Potter on, especially if they were going to thump on each other like uncivilized Muggles. He tried to justify his fear—er, reluctance; short and scrawny or not, this was the man that defeated an insane Dark Lord, after all.
"I was trying to, you insufferable git!" Harry yelled, raising his hand to hit Malfoy again. Before he could land the punch, he was deflected and the pair went down, rolling and scuffling just like they had at Hogwarts. They rolled around a few times, neither wizard able to land a solid hit on the other until Malfoy was able to get in a slap. A fucking slap!
Surprise had Harry pausing long enough for Malfoy to get on top of him and he instinctively bucked his hips up, trying to dislodge the irate blonde. "Get off me!" he demanded, wriggling and arching, trying to get Draco off of him. It was annoying how much heavier (and taller) Malfoy was and he nearly panicked. He knew how to use both the weight and height to Malfoy's disadvantage but his mind wasn't thinking clearly.
Draco sneered and managed to pin Potter's flailing wrists over his head, grinning darkly as he looked down triumphantly. "No," he said, settling himself on top of Potter when the man wiggled and bucked again. He nearly jumped off when he realized the man's struggles were turning him on. No, he thought furiously, he was not attracted to Potter. He'd react the same way with anyone else; anyone that was writhing, wriggling and bucking around like that. He refused to let his mind wander down that gutter in his current position.
"Might as well give in, Potter," he taunted, fighting a flush when his voice came out low and rather husky. He furiously hoped Potter didn't notice...
Harry shook his head. "No," he said with a glower. He tried to block out the rather erotic position they were in. And the voice that sounded like pure sex. Now was really not the time to be forcefully reminded of his annoying attraction to the blonde bastard. "Get. Off. Of. Me," he growled, punctuating each word with a buck of his hips.
He nearly toppled the blonde on the last one and fought the urge to blush or groan when he realized he was starting to get hard. No no no! He did not want Malfoy thinking he was enjoying this; he'd never live it down.
"Merlin," Harry said, chuckling. "I was so turned on... I seriously thought you had noticed and were fucking with me."
Draco laughed, tightening the arm he had around Harry. "I hadn't at first. By the time I did, you'd managed to flip me and... well..." he trailed off, fingers running lightly down Harry's spine and making the other man shiver pleasantly.
They both remembered how that had ended.
"Potter," Draco said, softer than he intended, looking up at brilliant green eyes. He was not laying under Harry bloody Potter in a dirty alley wishing the man would lean down and kiss him. Or shift just so and make the contact even better.
He groaned and closed his eyes. He really was though and he was cursing himself a fool, firmly telling himself that would never fucking happen. He probably should have done just that when he'd had Potter pinned and at his mercy.
Draco's eyes flew open in surprise when he felt warm, slightly chapped lips firmly pressed against his. It was almost an angry kiss, like Potter was pissed at himself for doing it. He didn't care, it still felt good. Fiery, forceful and verging on desperate. He groaned softly and wound a hand tightly into Potter's bird's nest of hair, humming with pleasured surprise at the softness of it.
Harry's hands let go of Malfoy's wrists in favor of cupping his face. He moaned softly when he felt Malfoy's tongue glide wetly along his lips and eagerly opened his mouth, deepening the kiss. Fuck but Malfoy could kiss. He felt a hand slide down his back and firmly squeeze his arse and tried not to moan or grind into the motion, but he did both. Shamelessly.
"Fuck," Draco hissed, pulling back enough to attack Potter's neck and jaw with not-so-gentle nips. He felt himself twitch with interest at each breathy gasp and moan. Merlin, the man was fucking sexy, he lamented when Potter writhed against him and the hands in his hair tightened just enough to have heat flooding his body in a dizzying wave.
He wanted to wrap his legs around Potter and rub against him like a horny crup. "What the fuck are we doing?" he asked, panting between each word as Potter's lips and teeth worked down his throat. His head flopped back, willingly offering himself with an embarrassing whimpered moan when he felt teeth and a wet tongue graze across his Adam's apple.
Harry leaned back and shrugged. "Making out in a dirty alley," he said, stating the obvious and went back to tasting the pale column of Malfoy's neck. He chuckled against the pale skin, oddly amused at the entire situation. He was rather glad Ron had already stomped off. He didn't know which of them Ron would've punched first if he saw them. Probably him for his perceived betrayal.
"Potter—"
"Harry."
Draco blinked and pushed Potter back. "What?"
"My name; it's Harry."
Draco rolled his eyes, biting back a moan when Potter dipped his hips sharply and ground their erections together. "I know your name, you git."
"So, call me Harry," Harry said, breathing heavily as he writhed on top of Draco. He grinned triumphantly when Draco gasped out a moan and cupped his arse, his legs spreading enough to slide up Harry's hips. He leaned down and kissed Draco again when he opened his mouth, no doubt to say something snarky and mean. "Or not," he relented.
Draco rolled his eyes again. He really didn't know what to say to Potter's request anyway. He highly doubted they'd be doing this again and calling him 'Harry' randomly just felt... weird. His mind blanked as white-hot pleasure shot through him, completely overriding the realization he was about to come, from Harry Potter dry humping him, in a dirty alley.
"Oh Merlin," he moaned, arching against Potter and panting when everything tightened with delicious tension.
"I still can't believe we did that," Harry said, chuckling softly, kissing Draco's chest. His cheeks lightly pinked at the years-gone memory. He still couldn't believe he had done such a thing. Draco always had been able to short-circuit his brain... "I mean, I'm glad but it's not something I've ever done before."
Draco hummed. He hadn't either. Harry had brought a lot of firsts into his life, a large percent of them very pleasant. "Indeed," he mused. "I'm still shocked you contacted me the next day. I honestly hadn't expected to ever hear from you again," he said quietly, his voice full of the long-ago pain of such a thought.
He had gotten an owl the next day, recognizing Harry's messy writing asking to meet at the Three Broomsticks. He almost didn't go. Thankfully, he'd had let his curiosity (and a fair amount of unsatisfied lust) override his pride easily enough when he remembered glittering darkened green eyes and the absolute rush of pleasure the other wizard brought. Even if they couldn't get along as rational people, maybe he could talk the other wizard into a sex only, purely physical thing. They really only seemed to get along in that regard...
He had been shocked when Harry had agreed. A little pissed too when he realized Harry had already figured that part out for himself. He almost had wanted to snidely point it out, even if it made the other man stomp off.
"I know," Harry said softly, his own thoughts on the long ago day. He almost hadn't sent the note, writing and burning almost a dozen drafts of the note before finally attaching it to his barn owl in a rush of foolish bravery. He had tried to snatch the note from the bird at the last minute, as a wave of 'oh fuck, what did I just do' washed over him but the bird had evaded him easily and was gone out the window before he could close it. "Well, good thing for foolish Gryffindor bravery, yeah?"
Draco nodded, seriously thankful. "Definitely."
"So," Harry said after a long moments pause. "When did you have in mind?" he asked, spinning his ring around his finger and watching the light glint off it.
Draco hummed, running a hand through Harry's hair and smiling at the soft, pleased, purring sound it brought. "I'm not sure. I have to find out if the bonding ceremony will effect the baby or not."
"Oh!" Harry said, sitting up quickly, a hand over his stomach. "I hadn't even thought of that! Would it?" he asked, chewing his lip nervously. He had needed to cut down his own magic use when he had been pregnant with Gabe, so it made sense.
Draco pulled Harry back down against him, soothing him with gentle caresses again. "I don't know. It's a rather magically charged ceremony so I can only guess. We'll find out and go from there." He didn't exactly like the idea of waiting so long, but he refused to do anything that might put Harry or their child in danger, though. They were engaged; Harry was proudly wearing his ring, and it was enough for now.
He continued his soothing ministrations, kissing Harry softly on the temple when he felt the other man drift off.
~*O*~
"Are you sure?"
Neville rolled his eyes and nodded, again, for the third time. "Yes. I'm sure," he said and raised his left hand, wiggling his bonding tattoo for emphasis. "I've been through it, I should know."
"I know. I apologize," Draco said softly, disappointment going through him. They'd have to wait; the ceremony was indeed magically charged and guaranteed to simultaneously overload and drain both of them in the process as their magic entwined and bonded. He didn't even want to imagine what sort of effect it would have on a growing child. Even if he had to 'share' his magic with Harry regularly, he was quite sure in that situation it would be hazardous.
He'd check with their healer, but he was already preparing for the answer he'd receive. "I had hoped we could do it sooner," he said.
Neville's eyes widened in realization. "Yeah, you'll have to wait. Sorry, mate," he said sincerely, clapping Draco on the shoulder. "But, it's not like there's any real rush."
"I know," Draco said, trying to throw off the funk he had drifted into with the news. He had wanted to bond with Harry as soon as possible but the delay could be a good thing. "Well, at least there's plenty of time to plan something outrageous."
Neville laughed. "That's the spirit!"
~*O*~
Harry watched as Draco slid from the bed and started dressing, his moves calm and precise. He sighed quietly, missing the carefree Draco that didn't bother with such things as his image and all that and just did what he wanted, how he wanted it. Passionately. Spectacularly. Repeatedly. Unfortunately, that Draco only ever came out in his bed. He missed the pale, perfect arse already, Draco having already pulled up his trousers.
His gaze followed Draco's progress as he gathered his socks and his torn button up shirt, wanting to duck under the covers when Draco eyed the clothing with an annoyed expression. Honestly, Draco was just as at fault for the state of his clothes. He was the one that started stripping him before they even made it up the stairs.
"Sorry," Harry murmured when Draco slid the shirt on and scowled at the ripped fabric and drooping buttons. He liked ripping Draco's shirts open. Draco enjoyed it, too... Until later.
"Reparo," Draco muttered, ignoring Harry as he waved his wand and watched his shirt repair itself. He lightly sucked his teeth; his Reparo left a lot to desired. The stitching was crooked and a different color. He wasn't exactly bothered by it, but he wasn't sure he needed to let Harry know that. Harry always got the most adorable pout when he thought he was angry with him. Maybe it was a little mean to let the man stew in guilt...
"It's fine," he said, looking for his shoes. He couldn't remember where he had kicked them off... Downstairs maybe? They'd barely gotten in the door before he had pounced on Harry.
Draco looked towards the bed and felt his stomach and chest clench with both unpleasant and pleasant things. Harry was still naked, but had a sheet pulled up to at least cover his lap, looking very thoroughly shagged and watching him with a completely unguarded expression. There was more than just the blissed out, after sex look in his bright green eyes. And it made everything inside squirm, not all together unpleasantly, either.
He took a deep, shaky breath. "I'm leaving."
Harry nodded. He knew that. Draco didn't stay over often. He hated it but what could he do? He had just learned to cherish the times Draco didn't immediately leave (for whatever reason he never shared) and he got to wake up snuggled against him, wrapped in those long, strong arms. "Yeah, alright."
"No," Draco said and sighed, knowing Harry misunderstood. He eased himself onto the edge of the bed, far enough away he couldn't reach to touch Harry and vise versa. He probably couldn't say what he needed to if Harry touched him. "I'm leaving. For America."
Harry blinked a few times, nodding blankly. Draco often traveled for work. He always missed him terribly, too. Thankfully, Draco made it a point now to see him first whenever he got home and made it up to him. Thoroughly and often times repeatedly.
"Alright," he said again. "How long will you be gone?" he asked, his fingers toying with the edge of the sheet. He asked mostly just to know how long he had to sulk and miss the blonde. In private, of course; even if Hermione did call him out on his behavior and did her best to distract him until Draco returned. America meant at least a week without Draco. He fought the urge to pout and gave Draco his attention when he noticed the blonde's brows pinched with either irritation or quilt. It was hard to tell.
"I'm moving there."
Harry blinked some more, now trying to fight the stinging, hot sensation he felt spring up behind his eyes. "Oh." He looked at Draco, saw determination and resoluteness, and he knew he couldn't possibly be able to talk the blonde out of his decision. He wanted to, he really did, but he couldn't handle the rejection he knew would come at the moment. The idea of going with Draco flitted through his mind, briefly but squashed it viciously. If Draco had wanted Harry along, he would have asked.
He breathed through a tight feeling in his chest and nodded. "When do you leave?" he asked quietly.
He refused to beg or grovel. He also refused to blurt out the fact he loved the stupid bastard and try to guilt Draco into changing his plans. It most definitely wouldn't work, it would only have Draco leaving all that much faster. He knew Draco too well to think he'd find such a confession a good thing. It hurt, but he knew it.
"In the morning," Draco said just as quietly. He was a bit shocked Harry was taking it so well. He had expected pleading or at least a half-arsed attempt to get him to stay. He looked at Harry carefully and saw the way those lovely green eyes were suspiciously shiny and he felt gutted when he realized the other man was fighting the urge to cry. He hadn't expected that.
He wouldn't stay, regardless of what Harry said. He had gotten too involved, things weren't purely physical anymore and it scared the fuck out of him because he knew Harry felt the same. The other man's badly concealed emotional reaction was glaring proof of that. He didn't sign up for that. So, he did what he normally did in such situations; run away.
Draco stood and retrieved his tie from the back of a chair. He quickly pressed a kiss to the top of Harry's head, briefly shutting his eyes as he did so. He clenched his hands on the impulse to touch Harry one last time; pet his hair, smooth a hand down his soft skin or even just brush his fingers across his still pinked cheek.
"Bye, Harry," he said softly and left the room.
Harry watched Draco until he was no longer in sight, watching his pale blonde hair disappear as he made his way down the steps in a half-jog. It wasn't until he heard the front door close gently (and felt the wards subtly reset themselves) before he allowed the hot tears to escape.
He felt stupid, used and absolutely ridiculous but he couldn't stop. He idly wondered if Draco had hoped he beg and make him stay, but he knew Draco well enough to know he would have gone anyway. He felt a bit proud of himself for denying Draco that last show of his complete lack of dignity.
"Harry?"
Harry jerked slightly and turned to see Hermione eyeing him with curiosity and a bit of concern. "Hmm?"
"I've been calling you... Are you alright?" she asked, moving into the room to sit next to Harry. He looked flushed and ready to burst into tears. She gently drew him closer and smiled when he leaned against her shoulder. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and squeezed gently.
Harry nodded, swallowing thickly. "I'm fine. Just... got lost in some memories."
"I see," Hermione said slowly. "Well, dinner's ready." She felt Harry nod but he didn't make a move to get up. She gently brushed a few errant strands of hair from his face and kissed his forehead. "It's done and over with, yeah? Look forward to the future, Harry," she said quietly, quite sure Harry had been thinking about his last night with Draco.
Harry nodded again, wiping his face of the stray tear. He knew all that but it didn't stop the memories. He could blame his hormones this time and was ready to take the easy cop out. No one looked at him funny these days when he got all teary eyed. It was annoying and a relief at the same time.
"Sorry," he said and sat up. "I just couldn't seem to help it. I hated him that day, 'Mione," he said softly, feeling his cheeks flush with guilt at the admission. He went willingly when Hermione pulled him to her chest, trying to ignore the fact her breast was practically in his eye socket. The comfort she was offering was nice, soothing, so he was able to ignore it. "I'm over it, really I am."
"I know. You wouldn't be where you are if you weren't." Hermione hummed and tapped her chin for a moment as she thought. She never asked for details, only helped Harry through the emotional aftermath of Draco leaving as best she could. "I'm glad," she finally said firmly.
Harry chuckled, leaning up and off Hermione's boob. It was comforting but a bit awkward now that he wasn't feeling weepy anymore. "Good. I am too, really. I'm just— I didn't think I'd ever be here," he said and laid a hand on his stomach. "I'm so glad," he whispered. He allowed Hermione to pull him off the bed and down to dinner. He kissed all of his boys on their heads, saving Draco for last.
"You alright?" Draco said, taking Harry's hand before he could walk off and squeezed it gently to keep him from walking past. He noticed the redness around Harry's eyes and was immediately concerned. While it wasn't uncommon to see, something always triggered the emotional response and he was worried about what it could be.
Harry nodded, leaning down to give Draco another kiss, on his lips this time. He chuckled when the boys both looked away with a loud 'Eeww!'. "I'm fine, love." He didn't want to bring up the whole thing again. They had settled it. He wasn't even sure why the memory had snuck up on him but he wasn't about to let Draco think he was having doubts.
He sat and dug into his dinner, happily enjoying the good food and great company.
~*O*~
Harry pouted, ignoring Hermione's snicker. "I wanted the other kind," he said dejectedly, pushing the container of ice cream away slightly.
"They didn't have it," Hermione said patiently, pushing the container of Rocky Road closer to Harry again. "You'll like this, I promise."
Harry pouted again but pulled the lid off, looking at the brown mess inside. "I dunno," he said slowly, carving a small bite out with a spoon. A ribbon of white goo followed the spoon and he looked at it dubiously. He glared when Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Oh, just eat it!" Hermione laughed. It was absolutely ridiculous; Harry was acting like she was trying to feed him some nasty concoction instead of delicious ice cream. Muggle ice cream. Neither one of them had gotten a taste for the strange (and downright gross) concoctions found in most of the Wizarding world varieties. Not even a pregnancy could make her stomach anything chock full of bug bits and other nasty additives. "If you don't like it, I'll eat it."
Harry slowly brought the spoon up. He tried to watch the lump of brown and white swirled ice cream the entire journey to his mouth and quickly shoved it in. "Oh!" he said, his voice muffled around the wonderful ice cream as his eyes widened with pleasure. "Oh, that's good," he sighed, pulling the container closer and quickly digging his spoon in for more.
He glared playfully when Hermione gave him a smug look. "Shuddup," he muttered inaudibly, thankfully soft enough the witch didn't hear him. He crunched on a piece of almond and drove his spoon back into the container.
"Yes, it is," Hermione said, feeling quite the wonderful best friend for not poking him mercilessly while yelling 'told you so!'. She watched in slightly horrified fascination as Harry polished off half of the container in record time. "So, made any wedding plans?"
Harry swallowed quickly and grimaced, the cold ice cream going down harshly. "Not really. We've got to wait until after the baby. I'm more than happy to leave all of that to Draco, too. What about you?" he asked. He looked around, wondering where the hot sauce got to...
"We've set a date. September third," Hermione said, passing Harry a thick, creme colored envelope. Ornate script on the front simply read 'Harry James Potter' in metallic purple ink. "I know it's short notice, but we didn't want to wait much longer and it was one of the only dates available until next year."
Harry's eyebrows rose. "Dates for what?" he asked, opening the envelope and smiling.
"Oh, the hall Arnold wants to use. Some sort of family tradition. It's quite lovely, too." She knew none of her friends would have an issue with going to a Muggle establishment and she smiled happily. "So," she trailed off, nerves making her fidget. She didn't expect a 'no' but she was still feeling jittery and awkward; most of her request was bound to come off as odd. "Will you be my best man?"
Harry giggled, unable to help himself. "Best man? I thought the bride had a maid of honor?"
"Well, yeah," Hermione agreed, grinning. "You're not a 'maid' though. Arnold doesn't care, he thought it was funny that we're basically both swapping the traditional roles." Harry's eyebrows rose in confusion. "His best mate is a woman," she explained. "It's quite the controversy," she said and giggled.
Harry hummed, spooning another bite of ice cream into his mouth. "So, his 'best man' is going to be a woman?" Hermione nodded. "Do I have to wear a dress?" he asked, grinning cheekily. He unconsciously licked his lips as he wondered what Draco would think of such a sight. He'd probably enjoy it, the utter perverted prat.
"No," Hermione laughed. "Well, unless you want to," she added, grinning mischievously. "So?" she asked, nibbling the inside of her cheek, her knee bouncing nervously.
Harry took another few bites of ice cream, feeling rather like a bastard for enjoying Hermione's nerves but unable to stop himself. He rolled his eyes, "Of course, I would be honored." He smiled, leaning over and giving her a tight one-armed hug. "Like you really even had to ask," he chided playfully.
"I didn't want to assume," Hermione said softly. "I mean, I had hoped—"
"'Mione! You're my best friend! I can't even imagine my life without you," Harry said sincerely, feeling his eyes prickle, as he reached over and took her hand in a tight squeeze. "I don't even want to think where I'd be right now without you."
Hermione nodded, absently brushing a hand over his cheek and wiping away a stray tear. She didn't want to imagine such a thing either. "So, do you think you'll be huge by September?" she asked cheekily.
"No," Harry said with a glower. He was just nearing the end of his first trimester and if he developed like he had when he was pregnant with Gabe, he'd be showing but not obviously large by September. Either way, he'd be wearing a glamour anyway since he'd be around Muggles. "Why are you being so mean to me?" he asked with a trembling pout, manufacturing a sniffle.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm quite used to tears, Harry. And I know when they're real or not," she said with a laugh when Harry stuck his tongue out at her, obviously annoyed his ploy didn't work. "But seriously, it's going to be a very Muggle ceremony. I need to borrow one of the boys to be a ring bearer."
"Which one?" Harry asked, feeling nervous all of a sudden. He didn't want the boys to fight over the honor. Both loved their aunt Hermione and would be overjoyed to be included. Or they'd fight over who had to do it, nervous about being in front of strangers and hiding behind his legs.
Hermione shrugged and sighed. She had thought about that and still wasn't completely sure. She wished there was a way to have both little boys do it, merely because she felt terrible having to choose. "Teddy, I think. He's a bit more comfortable around large crowds. I'd love for them both to do it, but that's a bit much," she admitted, fingers tapping the table nervously as she waited for Harry's response.
"That's true," Harry said, tapping his spoon against his teeth for a moment as he thought. Gabe was still quite shy and he would probably just stand in the middle of the isle, staring wide-eyed at all the guests. "I'll see if he wants to." He really couldn't wait to see all of his boys in tuxedos. Especially Draco.
He nearly purred at the mental image of Draco poured into a finely tailored tuxedo. Oh Merlin... "Huh?" he asked, blinking a few times, realizing he had missed something when Hermione poked him while giving an irritated look, her mouth screwed up to one side. "Sorry."
Hermione sighed, rolling her eyes, well aware Harry was probably day-dreaming about Draco in a tuxedo. She had almost forgotten how keyed up Harry's libido got when pregnant (thankfully, she didn't have all of the details, just enough to feel a bit bad for Draco).
"I said, I didn't give a separate invitation to Draco only because I knew he'd be your guest. So, you can explain that if he gets his knickers in a twist." She sighed again when Harry's eyes fogged over, annoyed she even mentioned 'knickers' when it was obvious Harry was day-dreaming about that now. "Harry!"
"Yeah?" Harry said, blinking. He blushed lightly, ducking his head. "Sorry, my mind wanders easily..." He could probably easily blame it on his hormones. He will if Hermione keeps glaring at him. How was it his fault? She mentioned knickers, so naturally he imagined Draco sauntering around their room in a pair. Lacy, Slytherin green and— He shook himself. "I'll tell him," he said absently, diving back into his half-melted ice cream. "Did you invite Pansy and Jessica?"
Hermione nodded, sneaking a spoon in and quickly eating the ice cream off before Harry could complain or steal it back. "Of course," she said. "We get along quite nicely and Arnold practically insisted. As if I wasn't going to invite them," she said and rolled her eyes. Her hand paused on it way to steal another spoonful of ice cream and her eyes widened, her breath gasping out in a soft 'woosh'. "Wow. I'm going to be married," she said in a breathless voice.
"You are!" Harry said happily, smiling. He laughed delightedly when Hermione nodded slowly, her eyes still rather dazed. He could sympathize; he was still randomly hit with the same thought, especially when he caught sight of the ring around his finger. He rubbed his thumb along it. "You aren't nervous?"
Hermione shrugged before getting up to make herself some tea. "Not really. I'm mostly overwhelmed with the planning part. But other than that?" she sighed and grinned goofily. "I can't wait to marry Arnold."
"Awww," Harry cooed, ducking when Hermione playfully swatted at him. He nodded and rest his chin on his palm and sighed dreamily. "I know what you mean, though."
Hermione smirked and sat back down, keeping an eye on the kettle. "I just bet you do," she said, her smirk melting into a warm smile. She wiped at her suddenly wet eyes, not at all surprised to see Harry in a similar state. "I'm so happy for you. I mean, it's about time," she laughed, ducking Harry's hand, "but I'm thrilled."
Harry just hummed, closing his eyes for a long moment to enjoy the tingling warmth going through him as he ran a finger over the band on his finger again. He was getting married. To Draco. He sat up when he felt the wards twang and grinned stupidly.
"Draco home?" Hermione guessed, settling back down with a steaming mug of tea.
She giggled when Harry nodded dopily, his eyes now trained on the door to the kitchen in anticipation of Draco's entrance. She watched with a very pleased smile as Draco sauntered in, greeted her warmly and headed right for Harry. She sighed like a love-sick Hufflepuff when Draco cupped Harry's cheek and leaned in for a soft kiss.
"I swear, that is probably the cutest thing I'll ever see."
Harry blushed, ducking behind Draco for a moment before trying to glare at the witch. He crossed his arms over his chest and lifted his chin in a passable impression of Draco. "We are not cute."
"Too right. We're erotic and hot," Draco added, laughing when Harry's blush darkened. Well, it was true. He didn't like the idea of others ogling him or Harry but he couldn't deny they made one smoking hot couple. He smirked and sat next to Harry, pulling the other man's chair closer. "How are you, Hermione?"
Hermione rolled her eyes, pointedly ignoring Draco's hand disappearing under the table and the way Harry's flush deepened. "Great," she said with a smile. "I was just about to ask Harry if you've picked a date yet."
"Not yet," Draco said, settling back in his chair with a slightly annoyed look on his face. He had owled their healer that morning and his suspicions were proven correct. Sometimes, being right bloody sucked. "I found out we'll have to wait until after the baby's born."
Harry sighed and leaned against Draco's shoulder, disappointed they'd have to wait so long. "Damn."
"Mmhmm," Draco hummed absently, a hand sliding through Harry's hair and resting it on the side of his neck. "But on the plus side, there's lots of time to plan."
Harry groaned and buried his face in Draco's shoulder. Planning. Ugh. "Your job," he muttered.
~*O*~
Draco hung up the wet towel, more than a little confused how he had managed to pull bath duty. For both boys. At the same time. He was soaked; his trousers were probably ruined and his shirt was transparent and clinging to him in the most uncomfortable way. He didn't really mind all that much, not really. Both boys had a blast once he had charmed the bubbles into a rainbow of colors and animated their Muggle rubber duck bath toys.
"Oh!" Harry gasped, nearly smacking into Draco as he hurried towards the bathroom. His eyes went wide as he looked the soaking blonde up and down. Suddenly the urge to pee vanished and he was quite in the mood for a bath. A long hot bath. With Draco. "Alright?" he asked, realizing Draco hadn't said anything yet. He was probably traumatized. Bathing little monsters could do that to the uninitiated. He chewed the corner of his mouth to keep from laughing. Draco wouldn't ever volunteer to do it again if he was laughed at. The wimp.
Draco nodded slowly, quite aware at Harry's swift turn of moods. "Mhm, yes." He watched, a small smile flickering at the corner of his mouth as Harry sidled in and snuck closer. "Did you need something?" he asked, leaning a shoulder against the door jamb and affecting a curious expression as he crossed his arms casually. He was already feeling his pulse pick up and a tingling warmth zipping around his body and landing hotly in his crotch.
"Oh!" Harry said and pushed Draco from the room. "One minute!" he slammed the door closed on a confused Draco. He opened the door barely a minute later and dragged Draco back into the room by the front of his shirt. "Boys in bed?"
Draco nodded. "After the bath and two stories," he murmured, his eyes focusing on with difficulty as Harry eased closer. "Did you need something?" he asked again.
"Mmhmm," Harry hummed, draping himself along Draco's front. He didn't care he was getting wet. They wouldn't be in their wet clothes for long. "You."
Draco hummed back and leaned down enough to kiss Harry, a hand firmly on the back of his head. He jumped when his clothes vanished and pulled away with a scowl. "I liked those tousers, Harry."
"I know. I sent them to the wash, now shut up and pleasure me."
Draco laughed and did as he was bid. It seemed all he did anymore was cater to Harry's whims. He couldn't find a problem with that though.
They carefully eased into the shower, the damp, clammy, cool feeling of being in his wet clothes finally easing as the hot water (and Harry's hot skin) washed over him. By the time Harry was a panting, gasping, quivering mess, the water was starting to run cool and he didn't have his wand for a re-heating charm. A hurried hair washing and rinse and he was practically jumping from the shower. "Fuck, we need a timer or something."
"Or something," Harry said with a snicker, wrapping a towel around his waist. He leaned against Draco again once the blonde was relatively dry and wrapped his arms about his slim waist. "I need a snack."
Draco raised an eyebrow. Did Harry expect him to go? He would but he wasn't in the mood to have a pouting Harry if he got the wrong thing. "So go get one."
"Right," Harry said, grinning. He didn't know if Draco would be a prat about it or not. He hurried to their room and threw on whatever he found that was soft and nearly raced down to the kitchen. By the time he was sitting down to eat, Draco had come in and went right for the tea he had made for him.
Draco stopped, his mug half-way to his mouth. He stared. Blinked. Shook his head. No, he still had no idea what he was looking at. "What's that?" he asked Harry, pointing his pinkie towards the bowl sitting in front of him.
"Peaches," Harry said with a shrug, spooning said item into his mouth.
Draco snorted and leaned against the counter, kicking a leg out and crossing his ankles. "Not just peaches, love."
"Oh," Harry said, looking down into his bowl. "And hot sauce. I think there's caramel sauce, too." He sort of forgot what all he had added, but the hot sauce was the first and most important part. He took another bite and hummed happily.
Draco nodded, swallowing back the urge to say something along the lines of 'ew' or question Harry's sanity to eat such a concoction. He idly wondered if all of the foods Harry ate from now on would be so... interesting. He watched as Harry spooned the peaches into his mouth, happy little hums drifting out after each spoon-full.
"I'm going up to bed," he said, unable to watch any longer. Harry hummed and waved his spoon at him. He rolled his eyes and dropped a kiss to the top of Harry's head as he passed.
~*O*~
"Harry," Hermione said, coming to a stop just inside the kitchen. "What are you eating?"
Harry looked up from his bowl, his brows pinched together. Since when did Hermione care about what he ate? "Ice cream."
"What's on it?" Hermione asked, her brows pinching together as well.
Harry looked up from his bowl. "Sauce." He gave Hermione a strange look, it was quite obvious it was sauce. What was she playing at? He spooned another bite into his mouth, rolling his eyes when Hermione made a 'gurk' sound and covered her mouth with a hand.
"Why would you put that on ice cream?" Hermione asked, her face wrinkled in disgust. Her eyebrows slowly rose and her lips pursed. "Well," she said, before Harry could answer. "We're going to the healer. Now. Take that with you, if you must," she said, man-handling the wizard out the door before he could properly protest.
She had enough of Harry's odd behavior and down right worrisome new habits and she wasn't going to wait another moment. Theories and ideas ran rampant in her head and she knew she wasn't going to get a moment's peace until it was sorted.
Harry bumbled along, trying to spoon ice cream into his mouth until Hermione's words filtered into his brain and sunk in. His brows scrunched in confusion, not understanding how his snack was leading to a hurried visit to a healer.
"What? No, I'm fine, 'Mione."
"You're already here," Hermione said smugly. She pushed at Harry's shoulder, making him sit. "Wait here. Do. Not. Move," she said, a stern finger pointed at him. She nodded once when Harry nodded vigorously, clutching his bowl of ice cream to his chest. By the time she got back from checking in, they were already calling Harry to be seen. Ah, the only perk to using his real name. "Let's go," she said, grabbing Harry's elbow and lifting him.
Harry scrambled along behind the pushy witch, barely able to catch his breath when he was forced onto the healer's table by an insistent Hermione. "Bully," he muttered, under his breath. At least she hadn't taken away his ice cream yet.
By the time he was scrapping his spoon along the bottom of the bowl, and he was mourning the lack of more cracker pieces, the healer was walking in. He set his bowl down just in time to have his hand captured and pumped vigorously in an enthusiastic hand-shake.
"Mister Potter!" the healer called out, his voice unnecessarily loud, but cheerful, in the small room. "How are we today?"
Before Harry could answer, Hermione stepped up and answered for him. She started informing the healer about all the 'weird habits and down right unhealthy' choices he had made over the past few weeks. He didn't see a problem with any of it; he was sleeping fine and he felt good now that he was no longer feeling sick. He leaned back when he healer turned to look at him with dark, serious eyes and bushy grey eyebrows pinched with concern.
"Is this true, Mister Potter?"
Harry nodded. It was true but he didn—
"We'll run some tests, Missus. Potter."
Harry laughed the same time Hermione did. "I'm not his wife," Hermione said, smiling.
"Ah. My apologies, miss. You'll need to step out, then, I'm afraid. Patient confidentiality and all that." The healer made a 'shooing' motion and went to open the door.
Harry went to gloat, send Hermione back out to the waiting room with a smug grin but he found himself asking; "Can she stay if I want her to?" The healer nodded and he felt relief flood through him. He didn't want to get any sort of test results back alone. "Thank you." He smiled when Hermione took his hand and squeezed it.
It was reassuring, especially once the healer's wand started waving, swirling and poking around him. He didn't know what any of the tests were for and he found himself tense and fidgeting in a very short amount of time. The only thing that was a plus, in his opinion, was the decided lack of potions. And blood being drawn.
Even if there weren't needles involved, it made him queasy seeing his blood outside his body in any way.
Questions were being asked and Hermione answered most of them before Harry got the chance. He couldn't help the bemused smile on his face; he hadn't realized until now just how well Hermione knew him. The most embarrassing question came and she couldn't answer it, and looked at him expectantly. "Erm." He really didn't want to discuss his sex life with a crotchety old healer. Or Hermione.
"It will help narrow down which tests I perform, Mister Potter," the healer said matter-of-factly when Harry still hadn't answered.
Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair as he felt his face warm. The thought of some weird, Wizarding STI was not at all soothing. It only made his blood-pressure rise and his palms sweat. He nervously ran his hands over his thighs. "I am not currently sexually active, no. Haven't been since my boyfriend, of sorts, left a few weeks ago."
He stoically ignored Hermione's sympathetic expression and stared at the floor. The wand waved around him some more and he looked up sharply when Hermione gasped. "What?"
"Ah, found the problem then," the healer said, a bizarre little smile on his face. A few more wand swishes and he nodded again. "Congratulations, Mister Potter."
Harry blinked. "For what? Am I healthy, then?" he asked, trying not to react to Hermione's still stunned expression. What was with that if he was fine?
"Oh yes, quite healthy, young man. And expecting. I'm sure it's a relief to finally sort out all of those odd little symptoms, hmm?" the healer asked and chuckled. He waved his wand a few more times, nodding and humming to himself as he made notes in a no-longer-blank chart.
Harry blinked, rapidly. "What are you talking about?" he asked weakly, looking between Hermione and the healer. "What's wrong?"
"Oh, Harry," Hermione said, her voice soft and careful. She didn't know just what to say and she was quite sure Harry didn't quite understand what the healer meant. She couldn't blame him, not really. "You're... pregnant, Harry."
Harry blinked some more before bursting out laughing. "Sure. OK. What's really the problem?" he asked, looking between Hermione and the healer again, waiting for them to get on with the real diagnosis. He didn't think jokes were appropriate at a time like this.
He looked longingly at his empty bowl, wishing he had more ice cream. Chocolate this time, though.
"I'm quite sure that's 'the problem', as you say," the healer said, sounding a little offended. As if his diagnostic charms weren't up to snuff. He eyed Harry warily, unsure what the young man was confused about. He nearly asked but stood back when the young woman spoke again. He chuckled softly, surprised they weren't actually married; they behaved like a couple.
Hermione shuffled forward and hugged Harry tightly. "It's true, I saw the results. Harry, believe me when I say it's not a joke." She stood back, holding Harry by the shoulders at arms length, willing him to believe her. She nodded slowly when realization finally dawned.
"But—" Harry said, his breathing getting fast and shallow as panic set in. It couldn't be true. He can't be pregnant. No, he was a man for fuck's sake! "You—"
Hermione stood up and put her hands on her hips, a stern expression creasing her face. "Harry, it's possible for wizards to have children." She watched as Harry's pupils dilated and his breathing get even faster as the color drained from his face. She shook him gently, more than a little afraid he'd go into a full blown panic attack or pass out. "It's OK! You're not going to freak out, right?"
"No, I am freaking out," Harry said in a small, choked voice. Why hadn't anyone told him this could happen? Why hadn't Draco said anything? Taken some sort of precaution? Oh fuck. He was— He looked down and stared blankly at his stomach. No way was this real. He gulped and looked back up at Hermione, his eyes still wide with panic and fear. "Er."
The healer watched Mr. Potter with growing concern. "Mister Potter, I assure you the results are accurate. You are approximately seven weeks pregnant. My scans show a healthy fetus."
"Oh fuck," Harry whispered, tightly shutting his eyes closed. He didn't know his hand was resting on his stomach until Hermione's covered it. "I didn't know... What am I going to do, 'Mione?" he asked, looking at her.
He had no idea what to do. He couldn't be a parent; he didn't know the first thing about being a father. He knew he couldn't do it alone, either. He had wanted a family but not for years yet. His traitorous mind and body longed for Draco and he squashed the urge viciously. That was not going to happen and it was stupid to even daydream about it.
Hermione sat down on the exam table, wrapping a comforting arm around Harry's shoulders. "What do you want to do, Harry?" she asked quietly. She'd support and respect any decision Harry made. She gently rubbed a hand up and down his back in soothing strokes, relaxing her own shoulders as Harry calmed down. "Just... don't decide anything right away, yeah? Let this sink in..."
"Yeah," Harry said, nodding blankly. He looked up at the healer, blinking when he noticed the older man held a handful of pamphlets and brochures. "What's all that?" he asked warily.
He didn't know if the healer heard him and was already offering alternatives. He covered his stomach with his hands again and stared at the shiny papers. Even in his shocked state, he didn't even think of any alternatives. He just couldn't.
The healer gave the bundle to Hermione, figuring the young woman was a bit more calm. "Information, Mister Potter. Do's and Don'ts. Warnings and helpful information. You'll need books, that bottom one has some fine recommendations," he said, pointing to the stack Hermione was already looking through with interest. He paused and chewed his mustache, a habit his wife loathed but he couldn't seem to stop when stressed or worried. "Am I to understand you're not... with the other father?" he asked, trying to be gentle.
"No."
The healer nodded. "I see. Is there anyone you can depend on? You're going to need help, young man. Magical help," he specified when Mr. Potter looked up with a defensive expression. "Growing babies need magic from more than just their mother, I'm afraid."
"Er... what? Why?" Harry mumbled, feeling slow and stupid. How the hell did you get 'magical help' from someone? "How?"
The healer nodded at the thickest pamphlet, his polite smile warming a bit. "It's all in there. Basically, it's to keep your magic balanced while the fetus develops its own magical core."
Harry slipped into the kitchen, grinning when he saw Draco by the sink. He eyed the pale green button up shirt, rolled to Draco's elbows and showing the man's firm, pale forearms. He licked his lips, staring at the lithe, subtle muscles as they flexed and shifted with whatever task Draco was doing. He was only a few steps away when he saw Draco turn his head just enough to see him.
"Harry," Draco said, bracing himself for the enthusiastic greeting he was sure he was going to be getting. A moment later, Harry landed against his back and hands were already sliding up and down his sides and chest.
He waved his wand at the dishes, setting the rest clean with a charm. He turned, smiling softly as Harry's hands slid down to his arse as Harry stayed pressed tightly along his body. He leaned down to briefly rub their noses together. He liked Harry's growing need for affection and body contact. He ran his hands up Harry's sides, cupping his face and kissing him. He pulled back before Harry could deepen the kiss too much and distract him.
Harry grinned up at Draco and batted his eyes as he pressed his body against Draco. "Do you do stuff like that just to get me horny?" he asked, his hands squeezing to gently but insistently knead Draco's arse. He loved Draco's arse. He smirked when he heard Draco's sharp inhale and saw his pale eyelids fluttering over dilating pupils.
"No," Draco said when he could breath a bit steadier now that Harry's fingers weren't stroking between his cheeks. "It needed to be done."
Harry tsked and focused on undoing Draco's belt buckle. "You were washing up. By hand."
"I was," Draco agreed absently, refusing to admit he found the chore calming, his breathing picking up when Harry's hands disappeared into his trousers. He groaned softly when Harry's hand closed around him. "Can we not do this here?" he asked, peeking over Harry's shoulder, fearing the boys might walk in at any moment.
He pulled Harry's hand from his pants, sighing with regret and a little exasperation when Harry whined and tried to shove his hand back in.
Harry pressed himself against Draco, wiggling his hips against the blonde, moaning softly at the friction. "Why not?" he asked and darted forward to mouth and nip at Draco's collarbone and neck. He grinned and scattered kisses along his pale throat, sucking lightly on a bobbing Adam's apple. He wiggled until Draco's knee was firmly nestled between his thighs and he shamelessly pressed himself against the blonde's leg. "The boys are at Pansy's."
"Are they?" Draco murmured, finally touching Harry back. He ran his hands down the other man's back, firmly grabbing his arse and using it to pull Harry flush against his full arousal. "Still," he said, slipping a hand down the back of Harry's pants and stroked two slicked fingers down his arse. "I'd rather be more comfortable."
Harry whined and arched into Draco's still teasing fingers. "Fuck, I don't care where, just... Merlin, just do something," he gasped out between sharp in drawn breathes and soft moans. He was already hard when he came into the kitchen and now he was this close to just coming in his pants and being done. "Now, or you'll miss out," he said, rolling his hips and whimpering a moan when a slick finger slipped inside. "Fuck."
"Mhm," Draco nodded and held Harry close so he could apparate them right into their bedroom. He had no patience for the stairs at the moment and he knew Harry didn't either. Harry was already whining and whimpering with each shallow thrust of his fingers. He vanished their clothes, staring for a long moment when he saw Harry's stomach. He didn't get to look long before Harry was grabbing him by the back of the neck and kissing him, his tongue and teeth everywhere, and arching against him almost roughly.
Harry pulled back and winked before stepping back enough to bend himself over their bed, wiggling his arse at a staring Draco. He didn't have to wait long and nearly screamed when Draco's tongue made a hot, wet stripe up his arse. "Fuck," he panted, pressing back and silently asking for more.
He felt his relaxing and heat spiraled through him with each flick and obscenely loud wet lick of Draco's tongue. Fingers wiggled in next to the slick muscle and he moaned, his body arching and aching for more. He went to touch himself and pouted when his hand was gently, but firmly, batted away. "Draco," he whined.
"I know, love," Draco murmured, already reaching down and slicking himself. He also knew if Harry touched himself now, he'd be done in minutes. He stood up, pressed his chest to Harry's damp back and slid in in one long, slow stroke.
He paused, running a hand down Harry's back and sides, his lips peppering the back of his neck. "Alright?" he whispered. Usually, when Harry got this crazy, he needed it fast and quick but he still worried he might harm the other man.
Harry nodded, moaning lowly. "Fuck, yes. Move, please," he groaned, arching his back and rolling his hips in an effort to feel the slick slide of Draco inside him. It wasn't nearly enough. He grunted with satisfaction when Draco finally moved, his thrusts slow, steady and deep. He moved when Draco shifted him and ended up with his arse in the air and his face pillowed on his arms.
He squirmed with each thrust, marveling how Draco could manage to hit the perfect spot even as his hands wandered between each erogenous zone. All at the same time. His brain felt like it was melting as he moaned and panted, moving his hips with each thrust as best he could. He felt warm, a rush of energy and heat going through him with each thrust.
"Almost?" Draco panted, pressing down on Harry's lower back as he lifted his leg to rest a foot on the edge of the bed. Harry nodded with a grunting moan and he went faster, both hands wrapped around Harry's hips. He clenched his teeth and threw his head back when he felt Harry's body clenching and twitching with orgasm. Fuck, that never failed to bring about his own orgasm and he held Harry's hips still as he came in surprisingly languid spurts.
He gently pushed Harry further onto the bed, easing him onto his side and flopped behind him, drawing him close. He'd probably never admit it, but he loved snuggling a sated, sleepy, sticky Harry. He ignored the sticky mess between them for now and ran a hand up Harry's chest and down his stomach, pausing at the now noticeable swell. How long had it been like that and he hadn't noticed?
"Harry?"
Harry hummed softly, sighing with blissed-out contentment. He stretched, groaning softly as everything pulled with a delicious tension. "Hmm?" He turned around with lazy thumps and bumps until he was curled against Draco's chest, slotting his legs between Draco's. He felt thoroughly shagged out and wonderfully sated, both magically and physically. A happy little flutter worked through him and he nearly purred.
"How long have you had this?" Draco asked, palming the swell, petting it softly with gentle, almost reverent touches as he tried to look down. He really couldn't since Harry wasn't loosening his grip on him. At all. Matter of fact, he was nearly wheezing when Harry's grip tightened.
Harry blinked and snickered. He wondered he should be offended Draco hadn't noticed before but it was a rather new development. "I noticed it last week," he said with a yawn, releasing the blonde and snuggling against Draco's chest with a happy sigh. "It not noticeable unless I'm laying down, so you're forgiven for being an insensitive arse."
"Insensitive arse?" Draco asked, his voice a bit sharp as one eyebrow rose. "Moi?"
Harry laughed quietly and kissed Draco with a quick peck. "Yes, you." He reluctantly rolled onto his back and looked up at Draco, trying not to nibble his lip. If this was the first time Draco had noticed what did he think? He was only going to get bigger and he really didn't know how Draco would react.
"Harry," Draco whispered, slowly reaching out. He gently stroked down Harry's stomach with the barest touch of his fingertips and looked up. His brows pinched with confusion when he saw worry and apprehension on Harry's face. He sighed, wishing Harry had been able to hold on to his blissed-out relaxation a little longer.
He felt like an arse for interfering with it by bringing the issue up.
"What's wrong?" he asked quietly, his eyes shifting down again to focus on the slightly-more-pronounced swell. He couldn't stop looking and his fingers twitched with the urge to touch again. So he did. He stroked along the soft skin and smiled, looking forward to watching Harry grow. A warm feeling shot through his body and he smiled at Harry.
Harry shook his head, feeling silly. "Nothing," he whispered, watching as Draco touched him gently, the soft smile on the blonde's face still present. Another wash of magic swept over him and his eyes closed with contentment.
~*O*~
Harry wiggled his feet, trying to get Draco's attention. He had them placed in the blonde's lap and he wanted them rubbed. He rubbed his growing stomach, feeling quite uncomfortable. He didn't remember being as big at nearly 5 months when he was pregnant with Gabe. He wondered if Draco's magic made the difference and felt a slight pang before shaking the feeling off. Gabe was healthy and amazing, there was no need to lament anything.
"What?" Draco asked, distracted by the magazines, fabric strips and other wedding planning detritus scattered on the low table he was bent over. He shuffled a few pictures around, sorting out just how elaborate a cake they should get when Harry's toes dug into his gut and wiggled. He looked up, eyebrows pinched together and ready to scold but snapped his mouth closed. Harry looked adorable but uncomfortable.
He sighed as he leaned back, abandoning the wedding plans without a second thought, and wrapped his hands around Harry's bare ankles and started to rub. He snickered, unable to help himself, when Harry went limp and made a rather indecent sound.
Harry sighed and relaxed into the pillow stuffed behind his back. "Thanks," he murmured, arching his foot with a muffled giggle as Draco ran a thumb under the arch. He couldn't help the moan that slipped out, it felt so good.
"Aha," Draco said smugly, rubbing both thumbs into the spot that had Harry relaxing some more with another sex-like moan. Wedding plans completely forgotten, he turned slightly on the sofa and let one hand slide up Harry's leg. He pouted when he was slapped at. "What?"
Harry glared, even if there wasn't any real heat or irritation in it. "Not what I had in mind, love."
"Oh. Alright," Draco shrugged and went back to working the aching feet propped in his lap. At just about 5 months pregnant, Harry's need for contact now tended to be more 'snuggle and rub me' than sexual, but he still got randy enough to tire Draco out on occasion.
He leaned forward and placed a few pictures on Harry's belly bump. "Which do you like?" he asked, going back to his massaging before Harry could complain.
Harry looked through a mix of Muggle formal wear and Wizarding robes. They all looked nice to him so he shrugged. "I don't care. Which did you like?" he asked, his gaze on the last picture; a set of Wizarding bonding robes, in a luminous white fabric that looked like silk. They looked rather traditional and expensive, but comfortable.
"I like these," Draco said, pointing to the wizarding bonding robes Harry was currently holding up and looking at intently. He wasn't exactly a traditionalist, but he liked the look of them the best. It didn't hurt they could be worn over nothing at all; also traditional. "They do come in different colors, but white is traditional."
Harry snickered. "Neither of us should wear white, Draco." His snickering died off when Draco gave him a disgruntled look.
"Why on earth not?" Draco asked, offended.
Harry snickered again and looked pointedly at his belly. An eyebrow rose and he wondered if white meant something different in Wizarding traditions. It probably did, given Draco's reaction. He sobered and cleared his throat softly. "Oh. Erm, why should we?" he asked instead.
"We're both Lords—even if you don't actively title yourself as such," Draco pointed out, his tone clearly indicated just what he thought of such nonsense. He didn't overly fuss when people didn't address him as such; it was quite old fashioned. And Muggles, a large percentage of his business associates, didn't know any better. "We're both respected members of Wizarding society and..." he paused, feeling himself flush with warmth. It was as much embarrassment as it was love for the lounging pregnant man. "And because we're in love, our bond true and deep," he murmured, gently twining their fingers together and lightly kissing the engagement ring on Harry's ring finger before bringing Harry's hand up and brushing his cheek with the back of it.
Harry's mouth fell open in a gape before he snapped it closed again and he beamed up at Draco. He didn't hear his fiancé say such things often and he really wanted to say something just as profound back. He felt his eyes prickle and absently swiped at them with the back of his hand. "Oh. So, nothing to do with shagging for years, then?"
OK. Maybe not profound. Harry snickered at Draco's disgruntled expression and struggled into a sitting position, using a tight grip on Draco's shirt to help him along. He grabbed at Draco, hugging him around the shoulders tightly. He kissed his pinked neck and leaned against him, burying his face into soft, pale skin. "You're so sweet, though, love. And I love you, too."
"Yes. White it'll be," Draco said, clearing his throat. He freed an arm and wrapped it around Harry, resting his cheek on the top of his messy black hair.
It wasn't a secret he was in love with the tactless git, but he still struggled with saying it aloud sometimes. He knew having them wear white robes to their bonding ceremony would proclaim his feelings and he found that he didn't mind. Everyone that would be at their ceremony knew it already, so he didn't know why it made him nervous.
"And the boys should be in white as well," he added.
Harry tried not to wince at the image of both boys in white robes. Ugh; he didn't think there were any charms known to wizarding kind that could keep the robes clean. "Why?" he asked, merely curious.
"White is, symbolically, every color. Colors mean different things. Instead of dressing them in a veritable rainbow, white robes are worn," Draco said, his fingers absently stroking along Harry's leg as he explained. He snickered, the image of Gabe and Teddy in white was strangely amusing instead of horrifying. Plus, the robes could easily be spelled to remain pristine with no issues. "Are we..." he trailed off and cleared his throat. "Honeymoon," he said simply instead.
Harry shrugged, unsure how to answer. By that time, they'd have three kids. One of which would be a newborn. He didn't like the idea of leaving their newborn with anyone, and it wasn't exactly a trust issue. He just... couldn't.
"Would it bother you if Pansy or 'Mione had the boys but the baby comes with us?" he finally asked, trying not to fidget or gnaw his lips off as he waited for Draco to hum and finally get around to answering him.
"Not at all," Draco said, sounding relieved. He hadn't thought of that and he was greatly relieved with the solution. He knew Harry wouldn't want to leave their son or daughter behind that soon and he didn't blame him. He wasn't exactly fond of the idea either. He also didn't want to postpone their bonding any further, either. "I have to ask—At that age, they just sleep and eat, correct?"
Harry snickered, rubbing a hand over his belly and chuckling when he was kicked. "Yeah, sure," he said. "Mostly."
Draco put more pictures on Harry's belly, chuckling whenever a pile was bumped or kicked off. By the time the boys came running in from outside, they had picked their bonding robes, the cake and half of the menu (thankfully, Harry's current odd food choices weren't mentioned and they didn't have to argue about why Chocolate cake with pickles was a horrible idea). He relaxed, smiling as Gabe pressed into his side, feeling accomplished. He jumped, smiling sheepishly when he gained everyone's attention, at the pecking at the nearest window.
"Daddy! It's a owl!" Gabe gushed, rushing over to the window and opening the window. He didn't touch the bird, just in case the letter was bad. Daddy tried to keep them safe from mean letters and birds, but he knew to be cautious. He watched, wide-eyed, as the bird swoop in importantly.
Harry waited for the bird to land, not really surprised when it hopped over and lifted its leg at Draco. The wards wouldn't allow in a hexed letter or the poor bird would have been singed by the scroll bursting into flames. He situated both boys on either side of him (both of them feeling snuggly more often with the baby coming) and they all silently watched as Draco took the scroll off the bird.
A pale eyebrow rose when the bird immediately swooped off, apparently not interested in a response.
Draco swallowed heavily when he recognized the heavy paper and neat, ornate handwriting on the front. He hesitated briefly before he cracked the seal and stared blankly as he read. He wasn't trying to hide, he just felt overwhelmed.
"Everything OK, love?" Harry asked, watching as Draco's face went a bit paler. He was concerned, watching the play of emotions roll over his fiance's face like waves. Unconsciously, he rest a hand on his belly and waited for Draco to respond. He had an idea what the blonde was reading, the fancy parchment and owl being large clues, and he nodded to himself when the last expression that flitted across Draco's face was a cautious type of hope. "Draco?" he asked quietly.
Draco slowly looked up, his eyes a bit wide and suspiciously shiny. "Yes," he said, clearing his throat softly when he heard the choked quality to it. He hadn't expected to be so... moved by the damned letter. He also wanted to tear it up and burn the pieces, but he couldn't.
"It's from my mother."