***This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.***
Warnings: *See Chapter 1* This work is AU and unbeta'd.
A Little Yellow Creeper – XI
Eleven Weeks
"Where the hell is it?"
"I don't know."
"How does this keep happening?"
"I don't know. Did you try summoning it?"
Harry stopped his frantic search of the room just as he was about to pull the chair away from the wall and stared at his husband. "Really?"
"What?" Draco said defensively. "Excuse me for trying to clarify Mr. I-Use-My-Keys-To-Unlock-The-Front-Door."
Harry sighed and rolled his eyes as he went back to the chair. "I told you it's a relaxation thing, I enjoy the routine."
"Whatever." Draco shrugged. "You know he won't sleep without it."
"Why do you think I'm tearing the room apart?"
"How does this keep happening?" Draco murmured; Harry shook his head and sighed again as he searched beneath the furniture. He righted himself a few moments later, dusting his knees. "Nothing."
Draco shook his head. "This is ridiculous. I know I left it right there." He sighed heavily and looked into the crib. "You don't think he's doing it?" he asked slowly.
Harry frowned, his gaze falling on the baby then back to his husband. "What, you mean like hiding them?"
Draco gave Harry an exasperated look. "Really? Where would he be hiding them, he can't even walk."
"I don't know." Harry shrugged. "With us for examples probably up his arse."
"Ha ha." Draco deadpanned. "I'm serious."
"You mean like Banishing?"
Draco nodded and shrugged.
"I don't know." Harry shook his head. "He'd have to be sending them a pretty good distance if we can't summon them and that's a lot of magic for someone so young."
"Stranger things have happened." Draco said. "You were speaking Parseltongue at eleven, that's something most grown wizards can't even accomplish." He smiled. "And he was showing his first signs of magic at seven months, probably earlier from the way that fat bastard was goin' on," Harry grinned at the causal use of Draco's nickname for his cousin. "And re-growing any part of you is no easy feat."
Harry nodded. "I don't guess there's any other explanation; still…" a smile broke slowly across his lips. "He's a prodigy."
Draco beamed. "Well," he sighed dramatically. "You're just gonna have to go to the store."
Harry gaped and frowned. "Aw, what?" he whined. "I went last time… at three in the morning! Why can't you go?"
"Because I'm not dressed." Draco said lightly.
"Are you serious?" Harry said. "You sound like such a girl."
Draco cocked an eyebrow.
"Fine." Harry grumbled. "But you had better be in a bloody corset when I get back." He said threateningly.
"Which one?" Draco whispered. Harry just stared at him, his eyes going dark; Draco blushed. "Oh."
"Yeah." Harry nodded and leaned in, brushing his lips over Draco's gently and stalking out of the room.
He grabbed his keys from the bowl by the door and took his coat from the rack; they needed to buy stock in pacifiers.
~*~
Twelve Weeks
"Mr. Potter…"
"Harry, please."
The representative paused, smiling curtly and continued. "Harry; the team's problem is not with the design nor with the quality nor the service; our issue is with the price."
Harry reclined in his chair, his fingers in a steeple beneath his chin. "Yes, but the caliber of design, service and quality more than justifies the price." He reasoned. "We do a fair amount for charity here, but we are not a charity ourselves."
"I understand that, but you are a young company."
"Eight years." Harry smiled.
"Yes, going up against companies that have been manufacturing brooms for the better part of two centuries with established histories, client relationships going back generations and more competitive pricing." The representative said earnestly. "All I'm saying is this team is the target of a bidding war between three major companies, all of which are begging for acceptance if for no other reason than the marketing possibilities and publicity of a world renowned team's exclusivity, something that you, as a new company, desperately need."
Harry took a deep breath, held it and sighed; he looked over to Ron. The red head stared back, nodded once and Harry grinned as he drew himself up and leaned forward. "Here's the thing." He said easily. "You're basically asking to barter services with us which, had you not been so arrogant in your assumptions, we may have considered. But you assumed that because were are in our first ten years of solvency that we are still working at a deficit or either barely turning a profit and that we are in such desperate need of revenue that we would whore ourselves out to your arrogance." The representative gasped, wide eyed as he cast about for something to say. "But let me assure you." Harry continued. "We don't need the publicity, we don't need the money and we certainly don't need clients with egos as massive as yours."
A small sphere hovered over the center of the table, casting an ethereal glow as it lit up, its soft blue light pulsing with the tenor of the voice that echoed from its center.
"I'm, sorry Mr. Potter, I know you're in a meeting…"
"Not a problem Edith, we've just finished." He said warmly, staring pointedly at the man opposite him. "What is it?"
There was a slight pause before, "It's Draco sir; he's at St. Mungo's."
Harry paled. "What's happened?"
"It's Jamie. He said you'd better hurry."
~*~
Harry was frantic as he approached the receptionist's desk. "I'm Harry Potter-Malfoy, I'm here for my s…" he stopped short, shook his head and frowned. "Uh, Draco Malfoy-Potter, my husband, he brought in our…" he trailed off, trying to find the right words. "We're uh, we're foster parents." He frowned.
"I understand, Mr. Potter but you must try and remain calm." The young woman said soothingly. "What is the child's name?"
"Bryden, Bryden James."
"Thank you sir, one moment while I access our records." She waved her wand and sheaves of parchment shot up off the desk, shuffling and reordering themselves. "I'm sorry sir, I don't have a child admitted under that last name." she frowned. "Another name; perhaps yours?"
"I'm sorry." Harry shook his head. "Dursley; Dursley is his last name."
"Yes sir, one moment." She repeated the process. "Here we are; children's ward, second level, third corridor on the left if you take the lifts, fifth if you take the stairs." She smiled gently.
"Thank you." Harry sighed and bolted for the stairwell, nearly knocking over an orderly in his haste. "Sorry!" he yelled over his shoulder, manners and propriety be damned.
He emerged on the second floor landing and followed the arrows to the fifth corridor, he saw Draco pacing just a little ways further. "Draco!" he called.
The blond turned, his eyes wide and red as he ran to meet his husband. "Oh Harry." He sobbed into his shoulder.
"Is he alright? What happened?"
Draco shook his head, sniffling as he pulled away. "I don't know. I went to feed him and he wouldn't eat and then he just… seized up. He was cold and pale and trembling and he stopped breathing for a minute and I just…" he shook his head. "I sent for you and then I came here."
Harry frowned, his eyes stinging as he stared at his husband. "But what…?"
"I don't know." Draco whispered. "They're running tests; I'm still waiting for…"
"Mr. Potter?"
"Yes?" they answered in unison; the orderly smiled gently. "If you would follow me."
Draco nodded, taking Harry's hand as they followed the young man down the corridor.
Author's Note: It's either very late or very early, depending on your view of it; but I just had to post this chapter, I couldn't help myself. *cough* please don't hate me *cough* ... ... ... I hope you enjoyed it! See you in twelve. : )
-Peace
