Harry let himself be talked into going shopping. It had been a month since Hermione's wedding and Narcissa had stopped by for a visit, extending her original plans into a weekend stay. The older witch wasn't exactly taking no for an answer, even though he did try to refuse. Once. Politely. He was quickly guilt-tripped into going along with Draco's mum's subtle pleas, her earnest expression and gentle reminders of it being her last day visiting had him agreeing quickly.
So, here they now where; getting ready to go shopping—Harry pretending he had a choice and Narcissa pleased with herself for getting the stubborn man to cave so easily. Harry watched, smiling openly, as Narcissa helped Gabe and Teddy with their shoes. He had tried to do it, as he normally did, but bending over was nearly impossible at this point.
He stood in the hallway, a hand resting on his very prominent belly, and waited for Gabe's shoes to be tied. He tried not to gape when he overheard Narcissa teaching Gabe a little rhyme as she tied the frayed laces. The older witch's lips were pulled into a small, warm smile as she softly went over the rhyme in a sing-song whisper. It was achingly adorable.
By the time they were out the door, Gabe had latched on to Narcissa's left hand and Teddy occupied the right. Harry was surprised he didn't feel left out; only proud and happy to see the boys taking to their grandmother (and she to them). He locked up and paused, realizing Narcissa was looking at him expectantly.
"Yes?"
Narcissa shrugged a shoulder, the move elegant even with two little boys weighing down both arms. "Are you alright if we go to Diagon Alley?" she asked.
It had been ages since she'd been there; between her hesitation to be in public after the war and her subsequent move to Paris, it had indeed been years. Plus, she wouldn't have to help Harry glamour his obviously pregnant belly. On the other hand, they'd be in Wizarding public and she was only just starting to understand how much Harry tried to avoid that.
She eyed the wizard's belly, stifling the urge to coo as the swell bulged against a warm-looking, slightly thread-bare jumper, and wondered if she'd be doing a glamour anyway.
"Erm." Harry chewed on the inside of his cheek. He looked at his sons, his shoulders sagging when both looked up at him expectantly, hope shining in both of their eyes. He nearly scowled when Teddy's eyes shifted to match Gabe's—a double silvery puppy-eye attack. They hadn't been to Diagon Alley in ages and he knew both boys enjoyed seeing the magical items in the windows.
"Yeah, alright," he finally said. He grumbled softly, mentally cursing his adorable sons and their persuasive eyes. "Can you side-apparate all of us?" he asked as they headed to the nearest Apparition point. He was hoping she'd say no but she nodded, giving him a smug little look, as if she knew what he'd been thinking. She probably did, the uncanny witch had a knack for that.
He just followed along, thankful the streets were quiet enough he didn't have to worry about any Muggles seeing him waddling gently down the street. He gathered Gabe close as Narcissa wrapped an arm around Teddy's shoulders, pulling the little boy close. He stood patiently as Narcissa situated him and Gabe before taking out her wand and they were all gone with a slick twist and a soft pop.
He took a deep breath, steadying his stomach and nerves. He hated apparating, and a side-along was somehow more nauseating. He looked around, setting Gabe down and grabbing his hand, as they landed right by the Leaky Cauldron.
"Would you—?" he asked Narcissa, gesturing at his stomach. He gave the witch a grateful smile when she gently waved her wand at his mid-section, putting a glamour over his belly.
It was always jarring to see his baby-bulge disappear but at least he wouldn't be ogled and stared at. As much. He ran a hand over his glamoured belly, smiling a little when he felt a kick. He still had to careful not to bump into people (or get bumped into) since the glamour only worked visually. Anyone touching him would feel the rounded bulge with ease.
"This way, boys," Narcissa said lightly, leading the way.
By the time they were walking through the archway, Harry was regretting the decision to come along. He was already getting stared at, as were all of them. Narcissa drew a few looks as well, but none were openly hostile or rude; merely curious. She ignored the stares, of course. She'd had almost as much practice as Harry when it came to tuning out unwanted attention.
"Lunch first?"
Harry merely nodded, carefully picking Gabe up and cradling him protectively when a few people got too close. Gabe didn't protest, thankfully, and kept still so he wouldn't bump Harry's belly. "Hungry?" he murmured down at Gabe. He smiled when he saw his son's head nod. He followed Narcissa and Teddy, the pair looking more like the Blacks they were as they both had matching postures and confident gaits. It warmed a part of him to see it, honestly.
He blinked when he realized they were in a small café he had never been to before. He looked around as they were lead to a table—thankfully in the back, and semi-private. He settled Gabe in a charmed seat, watching it swell up and re-size itself until Gabe was safely held and raised to the proper height. He grinned, watching Gabe bounce with delight in the charmed seat. It certainly was a change from the Muggle booster seats he was used to.
"The Dragon's Lair," he read the menu aloud, smiling when Gabe giggled with delight and went to grab a spare menu, his fingers tracing the outline of the dragon on the front. Another giggle sounded when the dragon raised its head and puffed animated smoke and opened its mouth in silent roar. He studied his own menu, leaving Gabe to poke, giggle at and read his own menu.
"Yes," Narcissa said, smoothing her robes before reaching for her own menu. It had been a few years since she had been there but the menu hadn't changed, she noticed with a wry smirk.
She looked at both boys, smiling a little when they both appeared to be studiously studying their own menus. Normally, she'd be convinced a child Gabe's age was merely looking at the pictures but she knew he was actually reading and deciding what to eat. She hid a grin when he leaned over, pointing at something and asking Harry for an explanation about the dish.
Harry cleared his throat softly. "That's foie gras. Duck liver," he explained further when Gabe merely looked up at him curiously. "Quite fancy." He snickered when Gabe's face pinched in disgust and he went back to sorting through the menu. He didn't blame him; he didn't get why something like that was in the children's section, either. He was all for his boys trying new foods, but that just seemed… pretentious and weird. He didn't look over the menu, already knowing exactly what he wanted to eat. He just hoped they wouldn't fuss about it should it not be on the menu.
.
Lunch had been fun and they all practically waddled out of the café, full and happy.
Harry followed Narcissa's lead, wandering into stores at a seemingly random pattern. What she bought, however, wasn't random. Small things for the baby, little toys or treats for the boys, a shirt for Draco, trousers for Harry. By the time they were making their way towards Twilfitt and Tattings, he was ready to call it a day.
He stiffened when he heard someone call out his name. Fuck. He slowly turned and saw Ron. Double fuck.
"Ron," he said, his voice neutral. He hadn't seen the red-head in years. He cursed his luck to run into him now. Pregnant, with both his sons, and with Narcissa Malfoy. He wasn't ashamed of the first and last fact (and he'd rather his boys never met his old friend)
Ron's gaze flicked between the small group, his brows scrunching together as he looked at the kids. He sort of recognized Teddy, even with the light blonde hair the kid was sporting at the moment. He didn't recognize the smaller boy, but it was obvious he was Harry's son. The kid was the spitting image of Harry, right down to the matching messy hair.
"So. Kids, eh?" he finally muttered, unsure what else to say. He hadn't meant to call out and get Harry's attention; it had been a habit at one point in his life and he hadn't been able to squash the urge, surprised as he was to see Harry out and about. As far as he knew, Harry just didn't bother—it was almost like he had exiled himself to the Muggle world.
"Yeah."
Ron hummed and stared at the kids again. He frowned when he realized Harry was trying to block their view of him... or his view of them. "Where's their mum?" he asked, trying not to look at Narcissa Malfoy. He did not want to even imagine why she was there and it took a surprising amount of restraint on his part not to demand answers on that front.
Harry sighed quietly, unsure how to answer. He didn't want to get into a row and he certainly didn't feel obligated to tell Ron a damn thing. He narrowed his eyes, noting Ron glaring at Narcissa before settling on his boys.
"I don't see how that's your business," he said, annoyance heavy in his voice.
Where did Ron get off asking something like that? The last time they spoke, they nearly came to blows. Plus, Ron knew he was gay (whether or not he accepted it or believed it was a 'phase')—there would be no 'mum', not in the way Ron meant it. He wasn't sure if it was willful ignorance or pathetic hope on Ron's part.
"I was merely asking," Ron said and shrugged. It took a moment for his gaze to lower and he gaped stupidly when he realized Harry's jumper was bulging in the front. "Are you—?" He sputtered, a finger coming up to point accusingly at the rounded belly, facts clicking slowly in his head. He'd heard wizards could do that, but he hadn't ever seen it before. He nearly snorted; leave it to Harry. "Bloody hell," he whispered. "Who's the father, then?" he blurted out.
He looked a bit closer at the smaller boy, anger slowly trickling in as he took in the little boy's grey eyes. Familiar grey eyes. Narcissa's presence wasn't such a mystery now. His hands fisted, unable to believe Harry let Malfoy get him pregnant. Twice—more than likely, since he was sure Harry wouldn't step out on Malfoy if he fancied himself in love with the prat.
Harry watched as Ron's face darkened with anger and he took a step back. He hadn't realized his glamour was gone and he really hoped Ron wouldn't make a scene before they could leave; he did not want everyone gawking at him. He felt torn, unsure what to do. He didn't want to just ignore Ron (though he bloody well should) but he didn't want Ron to start yelling and cause a scene, either. He'd managed to keep his family from the media so far, and he was damned sure he was going to keep it that way.
Things were getting out of control, fast, and he tried not to panic.
"Doesn't matter, Ron. It was nice seeing you. Bye," he said quickly, backing away another step. He gasped softly when a hand was tightly clamped around his wrist a moment later. "Let go," he said, not even bothering to wrench himself free; he wasn't stronger than Ron even when they were younger and he didn't want to risk Ron's temper flaring. He could see Narcissa drawing her wand from the corner of his eye and groaned softly.
When did a simple shopping trip turn into this?
"Who's the father, Potter?" Ron asked again, his voice low and threatening. Oh, he knew—he just wanted to hear Harry admit it. "I think I have a right to know. I mean, you did dump my sister so you could go shag Death Eaters and Muggle poofs." He smirked when Harry's eyes widened and quickly darted to the two little boys for a moment.
Apparently he wasn't supposed to know that (or speak like that in front of his brats). Well, tough shit. He didn't care if they found out their dad was a slag; they would at some point, no doubt.
He had made Ginny tell him what happened, furious when he'd been told she'd broken up with Harry (trying to claim it was mutual or her idea, but he knew it was Harry's doing). His sister had seem resigned to the whole thing by then, not even pissed at Harry like she should've been. Anger had surged through him; how dare that speccy little git just think he could walk away from his little sister? From his entire family? After everything they've done for the ungrateful bastard? Ginny loved him and Harry tossed it away on the stupid idea he didn't like women?
Maybe he didn't have any right to know anymore, but he still wanted to know. Harry owed him that, at least. That same anger was back—it hadn't lessened over the years.
Harry sucked his teeth and tried to wiggle free, working his wrist towards the spot Ron's thumb overlapped his fingers. He vaguely remembered hearing it was a weak spot that could be exploited. "I still don't see how it's any of your business," he said through clenched teeth. He realized Gabe and Teddy were both watching, their eyes slightly wide with confusion. "I need to get the boys home, Ron." He stupidly hoped appealing to Ron's sense of decency would work.
"So?" Ron asked with a sneer. He spared the staring brats only a cursory glance before glaring at Harry again. "Where is home now, Harry? You shacking up with Narcissa and all her Dark friends?" he asked, his eyes flicking to the older blonde witch. He noticed her wand was out but didn't care—she wouldn't use it, not against him. And not with a pregnant Harry Potter blocking him.
He shook his head, mock sadness pulling his eyebrows together. "If I had known you'd go down this path, I wouldn't have let Ginny break up with you."
Harry snorted, unable to help himself. He noticed Narcissa leading the boys away, grateful to the point of nearly sagging with relief. "Look, it didn't work out between Ginny and me. Get over it, Ron. I've moved on, Ginny's moved on. Why can't you?"
"You're fucking Draco Malfoy, Harry," Ron said as if he was convinced Harry was an idiot that he'd caught trying to light a cigarette with Fiendfyre or something equally stupid. "You threw everything away? For him?"
Harry slowly shook his head. His wrist was starting to burn now but he didn't want to look like an idiot again by failing to break free of Ron's grip. "I didn't throw anything away," he said quietly, quite sure Ron wouldn't see it that way no matter what he said. "I love him and I'm happy with him." He glared when Ron snorted so loud he had to wipe at his face.
He tried not to take it personally, or as an insult to his fiancé, but it was getting more and more difficult the nastier Ron got. He really didn't think Ron would understand that he really hadn't lost anything—Draco gave him everything. He tried to keep silent, knowing anything he tried to say would just be ignored since Ron still hadn't gotten over his hatred for Draco.
He shook his head sadly; he knew Ron just wouldn't get it. "We're happy together."
"Happy? How can that slimy git make you happy?" Ron demanded, his face going red again. He knew Harry was lying; there was no other reason for him to say such things. He tightened the grip he had on Harry's wrist, unconcerned when Harry winced. He didn't want to hurt him (especially since he was pregnant) but Harry needed to see sense.
It didn't have to be too late for him and Ginny; his little sister was between blokes at the moment so it didn't even matter if he did already have kids with that twat Malfoy. Blood adoption could do wonders for setting genetics right. He realized Harry was talking—trying to tell him how good, loving and nice Draco was—so he jerked his hand sharply, making Harry stumble a little and gasp in surprise. But at least he shut the fuck up.
It was doing his head in to hear 'nice' and 'Malfoy' in the same sentence.
"Maybe he's enchanted you," Ron said thoughtfully, looking at Harry closely. Harry had stopped mid-word as was staring wide-eyed at him, his mouth open a bit. He looked completely gobsmacked (or maybe addle-brained from a charm going wonky). "Must be it, there's no other explanation." There were no overt signs, but he wasn't an expert, now was he? He didn't know what to look for. Even if the speccy git could throw off an Imperious, it didn't make him immune to love potions or loyalty charms, now did it?
And even if he was a little disgruntled with Harry at the moment, he couldn't leave him to Malfoy and his evil schemes (even if he couldn't quite figure out what they were at the moment). He did sort of owe that much to Harry. They had been best friends, for years, at one point. And there was the whole saving the Wizarding world thing...
"I am not enchanted," Harry snapped, jerking his arm. He didn't at all budge Ron's grip, he only succeeded in hurting himself and making his shoulder throb. "Let go," he demanded, glaring at Ron. He didn't know how the hell everything got so fucked up and he was able to admit to himself he was starting to get a little freaked out. Ron seemed rather unstable at the moment and he didn't know what to expect.
He tried working his wrist free again and grit his teeth when the grip only tightened. "Let me go," he repeated, hating himself a little for hint of a plea that leaked into to his voice. Fuck it, if it worked and got him released, he'd blubber like a baby.
Ron shook his head sadly. "I can't do that, Harry. T'wouldn't be right of me to leave you like this, at his mercy. I mean, he's clearly been feeding you something for years, probably a fertility potion as well! Making you push out his heirs," he said sadly, shaking his head a little.
It wasn't right that Harry had someone else's kids—especially when he was the one having them. It was just weird and a disgrace to that Harry had been willingly bent over for anyone like that, least of an evil git like Malfoy.
"C'mon," Ron said, dragging Harry in the other direction. It was probably good Narcissa took the other kids away, they might cry when Harry came to his senses and no longer wanted them.
"What? No!" Harry wanted to yell and dig his heels in but he kept moving, unable to deter Ron's crazed motion. He glanced behind him, the urge to cry nearly overwhelming him when he realized Narcissa and the boys weren't anywhere to be found. He wanted to be relieved his boys weren't seeing this but he was mostly gutted to realize Narcissa had just left him alone with Ron.
Of all the times to be seen as some stupid, bloody super-wizard, he thought darkly.
He sucked in a breath and tried to wrench himself free from Ron's grip again but only succeeded in giving himself a bit of a burn from the friction. He wanted to just go limp, make Ron drag his dead weight, but he was too scared he'd land wrong and hurt the baby. Surely his friend wasn't that heartless or held such hatred towards Draco? He tried not to panic; someone would notice he didn't want to be following Ron and interfere…
He went to look around but was jerked backwards, making him give an embarrassing squeak that would've been an actual scream if he had a full breath in his lungs. A moment later he sighed with relief, body relaxing at the familiar hand on him.
Ron jerked to a stop, glaring when he realized his progress was being halted. He turned to yell at Harry and stumbled backwards with a loud 'fuck!' as a fist smashed into his nose. There was a sickening wet crunch, followed by a bright burst of pain as blood immediately started to pour down his face in twin gushes from his no-doubt broken nose.
"Wa'd da fug!" he yelled, his voice clogged and muffled with blood and his own hand as he cupped at his face. His eyes were watering but he could see well enough to make out the blurred image of an enraged blonde stalking towards him. He tried to blink the pained tears from his eyes, but they wouldn't stop. "Malfoy!" he tried to hiss but his voice was still clogged and ineffectively portraying his rage. And proper pronunciation. He only managed something that sounded like 'Mabboy!' But his point was made since the blonde just sneered at him.
He was a little afraid, too. Who knew what sort of Dark shit Malfoy would do to him for trying to set Harry to rights? Malfoy looked ready to murder him, with his bare hands, and he wasn't dumb enough to be entirely unaffected. It was, admittedly, rather intimidating. He winced as he cleared the blood from his nose, spitting a glob out and grimacing. At least he could breath... sort of.
"Weasley," Draco said flatly. He was seething inside, his heart-rate dangerously high and kicking up every time he remembered the sight of Weasley dragging Harry down the street—his fiancé scrambling along, nearly falling a few times just in the brief moments he watched as he hurried to catch up.
His hands clenched and unclenched, forming and reforming a tight fist, practically itching to be put to use again. He breathed deeply as he tried to control himself. He understood now how satisfying it was to punch someone and he longed to do it again (even if it would hurt his own hand in the process).
"Care to explain yourself?" Draco asked coldly, his gaze never wavering from Weasley. He wanted to turn around and check on Harry, but he refused to let the red-headed piece of shit out of his sight for a moment. He could feel Harry inching closer, his belly pressing against his side and he allowed his attention to wander enough to reach back and touch whatever part of Harry he came into contact with.
Ron sputtered, unsure what to say. He winched as he tried to clear his clogged nose, grimacing as he spat out another congealed, bloody glob onto the pavement. He took as deep a breath he could, grimacing as pain flared again.
"You've enchanted himb!" he screeched, pointing a bloody finger at a suddenly still Malfoy. He gulped a little when grey eyes glinted dangerously, pinning him with murderous intent. He didn't know if Malfoy was pissed because he had figured out his nefarious scheme or because of the (tiny) threat to his newest heir inside Harry. "I know you did! I'mb going to fix himb! Then all of this will be over. You'll go back to living under your slimy rock and Harry will be where he belongs."
"You've gone 'round the twist, Weasel," Draco finally said, unsure how to take Ron's screeching. It made a twisted sort of sense but he was still too pissed to do anything but pull back his fist again and let it fly, landing a solid punch just below Weasley's watering eye.
He grabbed the front of Weasley's bloodied robes and pulled him closer, sneering down into his pale face. "Not that it's any of your fucking business, but where he belongs is right where he is. With me. With our children. We're to be married—bonded, more accurately. One can't go through a marriage bond if you're enchanted in any way."
He paused for a moment, letting the new information settle into Weasley's thick head, nodding once when realization dawned in widened blue eyes. He sneered when indecision crossed the bloody, freckled face. "Now bugger off," he hissed, stepping towards Weasley in warning and letting the sullied robes in his hands go with a push.
He watched with palpable satisfaction when Weasley stumbled back a few steps, his bleeding nose forgotten for now. Weasley was pale and staring between him and Harry wide-eyed and gaping like a carp. He eyed the blood still dripping freely from the slightly bent nose, mingling unattractively with the freckles spotting the lower bits of Weasley's face. It was quite a sight and he felt rather proud he'd done that. Even if his hand was starting to throb steadily and scream in pain.
Ron sputtered. "But... but... You can't marry him! You don't love him." He nodded, as if it settled everything. He did know the requirements of a bonding but he didn't believe Malfoy would actually do such a thing. He didn't believe Harry would do such a thing. He felt doubt squirm through him when he realized Harry was pressed against Malfoy's back, seeking assurance and protection from Malfoy, because of him.
Shit.
He ran a hand through his hair, not at all caring he was smearing blood everywhere. This was all so fucked up...
Draco stared, feeling a little dazed at the idiot's lack of common-sense and deluded convictions, even through his anger. Even if he'd never say it aloud, he knew Weasley was smart enough to comprehend (and he did, the fucking arsehole), even if he didn't want to hear it. Even if the miscreant didn't honor his pure-blooded heritage, he knew Weasel was aware of some aspects of it; he'd know the basics of a marriage bond.
He waved Weasley off, done with the entire exchange. He was not going to stand here and justify his relationship with Harry to anyone. "Fuck off," he said, waving a hand in a shooing motion again when Weasley just stood there, blinking owlishly and swaying a little. It took another punch (to the jaw this time) before Weasley finally stumbled away.
Fuck, what a mess. He needed to contact the Aurors, but first—
He turned to Harry finally, pulling him against his chest. "Are you alright?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.
His hand was throbbing even worse now (he probably broke quite a few bones in it with that last punch) but he ignored it, focusing on smoothing his other hand through Harry's hair before sliding down and cupping Harry's face and staring at him intently. He didn't know why he was suddenly starting to shake but he refused to give in to the tremors until he knew Harry was alright.
He didn't protest when Harry gently pulled his face from his hands, but only because Harry then burrowed his face against his chest and pressed against him, as close as he could. Arms came up and squeezed him tightly.
"Yeah," Harry mumbled, his voice barely audible since his face was pressed tightly to Draco's chest. He wasn't moving for anything, though, so Draco was just going to have to sort out what he said for himself. He sighed with relief and his knees nearly buckled under the weight of it. He hadn't felt that useless since he was a kid and he'd nearly forgotten how terrible it felt to feel helpless.
He very nearly swooned and looked up adoringly, mentally (and maybe vocally, he wasn't sure if he kept it to himself) labeling Draco his hero—a knight in shining armor. There was a heated swirl of adoration, relief, lust, love and waning fear and panic working through him, he felt breathless and lightheaded until his emotions (and hormones) settled.
He nearly rolled his eyes when Draco visibly preened, a glint of pride lighting those grey eyes and his chest puffing out, but didn't since Draco had indeed earn the privilege. Sure, he'll later be utterly embarrassed he hadn't been able to sort it out himself, but for now he was enjoying the comforting sensation of Draco surrounding him protectively. Who knew Draco had it in him?
"How?"
Draco stood, just holding Harry and reassuring himself he was fine, for long moments. "Mother sent a Patronus," he finally murmured, both hands now pressed tightly to Harry's back so they were pressed together tightly again. He relaxed a little more when he could clearly feel the bulge of Harry's belly pressing into him. And the soft, immensely reassuring flutter of a kick. He nearly sobbed with relief.
He had been so scared when his mother's wispy, silvery crane Patronus flew into his office with the short, ominous message of "Weasley's cornered Harry in Diagon Alley". He hadn't paused to respond, just apparated on the spot and focused on Harry so he could find him. (He'd only heard of such a thing working in theory and he'd nearly collapsed with relief when it had actually worked.)
Draco released a shaky breath, holding Harry tightly and apparating them both with a sharp, loud pop. He only let the tremors fully hit him when they were safely home, laying entwined on the sofa. He kept his hands pressed against Harry, even as they shook. He didn't seem able to pull his hands off Harry's belly or any other part of his body for long.
"I didn't know your mum could make a Patronus," Harry said inanely.
He knew it was a silly thing to focus on, but that's what occurred to him. He heard Draco snort, the sound a bit choked but still a hint of amusement in there. He ignored the way Draco trembled, knowing it was a reaction to the shock and adrenaline from his physical fight with Ron. And he knew Draco wouldn't want it pointed out. Thankfully, they were already subsiding.
Harry nuzzled Draco's neck. "I bet it was a swan."
Draco chuckled, shaking his head a little in wonder. He had been just as surprised; but then again, he knew better than to underestimate his mother. "A crane, actually."
~*O*~
Harry rolled his eyes, flopping onto the sofa and glaring at Draco. It was half-hearted, but still. "I said I was fine, didn't I?"
He wasn't complaining fully, only because Draco had broken his hand and the medi-witch seeing to him had bullied his stubborn fiancé into downing a pain potion and a small amount of Skele-Grow. The old medi-witch had given Draco a once over, making sure his bones were growing properly, before leaving and added a temporary binding charm so he wouldn't disrupt the healing bones since the stubborn git refused to stay overnight. He had wisely kept his snickering to himself, even though he was amazed the old witch had been able to read Draco so easily and accurately.
"Yes, you did," Draco said, not at all sorry for making Harry go to St. Mungo's for a check-up. "You would have been beside yourself with guilt if something had happened," he said softly, easing down next to Harry and pulling him close. He hadn't been able to refrain from touching Harry since he had 'rescued' him. Even if Harry hadn't been harmed, physically, they both knew stress could affect the baby. He loosened one hand so he could caress Harry's belly, his hand stilling occasionally to press gently and encourage movement.
Harry just enjoyed the moment. Even when those presses did encourage kicks. Arse. It was cute until those kicks were aimed at his bladder. Or his ribs. Probably smashing his liver into paste, too.
He huffed softly but nodded, silently agreeing with Draco's last spoken words. He allowed Draco to cuddle and smother him, just as needy for the reassuring touch as his fiancé. "I'm alright," he said softly. He smiled a little when Draco grunted inarticulately but didn't stop his hands from roaming his belly and the small of his back. He groaned softly with relief when he felt aches lessen as the gentle stroking turned into gentle massaging.
"You should call your mum, let her know we're back," Harry mumbled, eyelids growing heavy. "I'm sure the boys are driving her spare."
Draco nodded and reluctantly got up off the couch, headed for the floo.
Harry knew his boys were well behaved but they were still little boys full of energy. And if they caught any of the earlier confrontation with Ron, they'd probably be panicked and worried. Of course, he was less upset about the whole thing now that he had time to think about it. Even if Ron had been acting a bit mental, he seemed to care. Yeah, he was completely wrong, but it was the most interest he had shown in Harry in years.
"Hey," he said, after Draco flopped back down next to him, still wiping his knees from where they'd gotten a bit of dusty ash from when he'd been kneeling for the floo call.
"What?" Draco muttered when Harry didn't complete his thought. He looked over and frowned at the pensive look on Harry's face. "What?" he repeated, frowning a little. He didn't like that look...
Harry cleared his throat and struggled a bit to sit up. "I was just thinking... maybe I should owl Ron."
"Why?" Draco murmured, unsure how to react just yet. Maybe Harry wanted to send a scathing letter, cursing Weasley and the day he oozed into being. He'd be very willing to help Harry pen a very nice Howler, maybe work out a charm that would make the fiery destruction a bit larger...
Harry cleared his throat again, hugging a pillow to his chest and averting his eyes. "Just to explain. I know it looked bad, but I hadn't expected to see Ron. Or for him to give a toss about what happens to me anymore."
"So," Draco said with a long, drawn out sigh. "Let me get this straight; Ron trying to drag you off to be 'cured' is supposed to mean—What? That he cares?" he asked, his voice dripping with skepticism and irritation. He glared when Harry looked away.
Harry shrugged one shoulder. "Sorta, yeah. Honestly Draco," he hurried before Draco could call him an idiot. "You remember that day." He saw Draco's lips twitch, and a light blush to creep up his neck. "Not only did we have our first... er, moment, but that was my last with Ron. So, yeah, he went mental and completely in the wrong direction... but maybe..."
"Harry, he was livid you were with me. How in Merlin's name can you possibly explain so his feeble mind can understand? You said you loved me—" He paused, waiting for a nod. "You said we've got children together—" Another nod. "What else is there you could possibly say to convince the idiot?" he demanded softly.
He didn't enjoy the fact the old friends had gone separate ways (well, not that much) but he hated that Harry still felt obligated to the idiot. He didn't say it aloud, but he was sure there was a line between 'understanding' and 'doormat'. And he wouldn't allow his Harry to toe that line for a fair-weather arsehole like Weasley.
Harry's shoulders slumped. Draco had a valid point. He had made those same points earlier and Ron had ignored him, convinced he was bewitched or enchanted. He hadn't a clue how to tell his former friend how he fell in love with Draco and have it be believed. Especially since Ron hadn't seemed to have moved past stupid boyhood grudges.
He sighed, leaning heavily against Draco, snuggling in immediately when Draco's arm came up to hold him. "I dunno," he muttered.
"Leave it, yeah?" Draco murmured. "At least for now," he added reluctantly. He did not want Harry to bother with that red-headed toerag but there wasn't anything he could really do to stop Harry from contacting Weasley. He wasn't about to try to control Harry or decide who his friends should be (even if he strongly believed Harry was better off keeping Weasley far, far away from him).
"Mother said she'd be home with the boys in an hour. They went for ice cream," he said with a snort. The boys seemed perfectly content, too.
Harry nuzzled into Draco's side, running a finger up Draco's thigh in a slow, teasing swirl. "An hour, huh?" he murmured. He peeked up at Draco and grinned when he saw understanding on Draco's face.
"No."
"But—"
"No," Draco said firmly, covering Harry's hand with his and still the arousing movements. Sweet Merlin... He was already getting hard but there was no way they were shagging now. Or even fooling around a little. "We've been traumatized, love," he said dramatically, squeezing Harry tightly and running a hand up and down his arm. "I don't think we should be doing anything but sitting here and relaxing."
Harry sighed softly, relaxing against Draco again. "Fine," he pouted. Really, he saw the logic against a wild shag... but he just wanted that moment of perfection when they were as close as they could possibly be. He was still a little shaken and didn't want to admit aloud he needed that extra reassurance.
He looked up at Draco and saw understanding again and nodded. He hummed with contentment when he was pulled even closer against Draco's body and felt himself practically melt.
They both started out of a light doze when the floo chimed. Draco patted Harry's head and sat up as best he could pinned under Harry's weight and smiled when Teddy strutted out of the floo first.
"Dad! Pop! I got to floo by myself!" Teddy gushed, pointing at the still green flames. "Grandmum let me!" He stood up tall and nodded proudly. He was pretty sure it was only because grandmum couldn't pick up him and Gabe, but it was still cool. He was still a little dizzy but it was so worth it.
He looked between his pop and dad, smile dropping slowly into a frown. "Everything OK?" he asked, looking between the two.
Draco nodded, pulling Teddy closer so Harry could reach him. He was beyond relieved Teddy didn't seem aware of the earlier problems. "Yes, he's just tired," he said, nodding at Harry. He smiled a little when Teddy merely nodded his understanding. It wasn't uncommon for Harry to nap and thankfully Teddy was too distracted by the flooing experience he didn't ask why he was home so early.
"Oh." Teddy let himself be pulled against his dad's side, accepting the cuddles with a bravery and stoicism that he was pretty sure would make pop proud. He was so too old to cuddle but he didn't want to make his dad cry by saying no. Or squirming away. He took the hair petting with only a small eye-roll. "Grandmum got us ice cream," he said smugly.
Harry hummed, smoothing down Teddy's wild hair. It was a bright, minty green color; the color of his favorite flavor. Apparently, Teddy was still enjoying his ice cream high. "I heard. Ruined your dinner, I bet." He smiled when Teddy giggled softly and shook his head. "Where did you go?"
"I dunno, some Muggle place," Teddy said absently, unconsciously leaning into the hand that was still in his hair. He was totally too old for it but it did feel a little good. "Grandmum said we should let you talk to your friend alone. I thought he looked a right prat, but—" he ended with a shrug, that turned into a wince when he was scolded for saying 'prat'.
Draco saw Harry's eyes flutter closed and a look of relief cross his expression. He wholeheartedly agreed; He'd been concerned the boys would be upset if they saw how things had escalated. He tuned out of Harry and Teddy's conversation, the pair excitedly discussing how the ice cream parlor had over 30 varieties, and focused on the floo when it flared again.
He smiled when his mother stepped through holding Gabe, the pair of them chatting quietly.
"See? I told you Teddy did a splendid job and got here safely," Narcissa said, setting Gabe onto his feet. She smiled when he hugged her legs and rushed off to make sure Teddy was indeed in one piece. And give Harry a hug as he carefully climbed into his lap.
She shared a look with her son and inclined her head when he cocked his head slightly. She stood off to the side while he eased himself away from Harry and followed when he left the room. They had barely passed the doorway when she was suddenly enveloped in a tight hug.
"Thank you," Draco said softly, giving his mother one last squeeze before loosening his hold. He was sure he'd shocked his mother withe the tight embrace, but he had to do it. Even if she scolded him for it. He went to back away and was forced back into his mother's embrace. He laughed softly and enjoyed the moment.
Narcissa eventually let her son go, wiping at her eyes gently. She felt wretched she hadn't been able to do more and didn't think she quite deserved the warm thanks (or hug), but she wouldn't argue. It was bad manners, after all.
"I'm sorry I couldn't do more," she found herself saying, averting her eyes. She cared for Harry a great deal and it upset her to see him in such a situation earlier.
Draco waited until his mother looked at him again and gave her a warm smile. "You did more than anyone else did. I can't thank you enough for alerting me, Mother. Truly. You also got the boys away from there," he said quietly, willing himself to stay calm. He wanted to fist his hands again and winced as his hand twinged, but thankfully he couldn't flex it past the tips of his fingers twitching.
"Alright," Narcissa conceded. Otherwise, they'd be spending hours at this. "The boys only saw that man approach Harry," she said softly. She was very relieved they didn't see their father man-handled. She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin, determined to move forward. "Did you finish the wedding plans, darling?"
Draco could only shake his head a little and smile. "Not as of yet." He let his mother lead him towards his study, where he had most of the notes and various bits and pieces he had stored. He didn't want to dwell on events either but he wasn't going to put it completely out of his mind.
~*O*~
Harry pouted. He hated planning things. That was Draco's forte. "Whatever ones you like," he said, pushing away glossy pictures of flowers. They all looked the same to him. He whined and rubbed at his belly. He was huge, achy and cranky and in no mood to look at sodding flowers. He glared when Draco gave him a disgruntled expression.
"It's important, Harry."
Harry huffed and resisted the urge to scream. Or throw something. "It's not important. It's fucking flowers, Draco. Who gives a shit what sort of flowers are there? Or even if we have flowers?" Every single picture was of some flower, and they all looked expensive. Did they really need flowers? It seemed to... trivial.
"Flowers are traditional, symbolic and..." Draco trailed off, ignoring Harry's pinched look and pursed his lips as he thought. "And they smell nice."
Harry snorted, unable to help himself. "Still. I don't care what bloody flowers we get." Draco was just standing there, looking patient and snooty. Arsehole and his ruddy flowers... In his opinion, there was a point where they took the whole 'gay' thing too far. And poncy flowers everywhere was probably just a bit over that line.
But Draco looked determined so he merely rolled his eyes and wished for a snack. "How about lilies?" he offered after a moment.
"What kind?"
Harry paused, shrugging indifferently. Merlin, there would be more than one kind of lily... "I haven't any idea. Which is why I said you should pick them!" He glared up at Draco, huffing again with annoyance when the blonde only stared back at him passively. Yeah, he was probably being a git because he was cranky but still... He rolled his eyes again and crossed his arms over his chest, glaring up at Draco. "White ones?" he finally muttered.
"White is good," Draco murmured, wondering if Harry actually knew it was a good choice or if he'd just gotten lucky, pulling things from his arse. He was leaning more towards the latter... He knew there was meaning behind flowers and he wanted their choices to reflect that. Low pitched grumbling was his only response and he decided Harry was done with talk of flowers. Probably for good, but he'd pack in it for now.
"Right," he said and left the room. He ignored Harry's indignant huff, no doubt annoyed he'd been left behind. He summoned a few random items from the kitchen and sat down next to Harry.
Harry eyed Draco suspiciously, unsure how to take the offering of canned peaches, chocolate sauce and graham crackers. "What's this?"
"I thought you'd like it," Draco said simply and shrugged. He really didn't care if Harry wanted them, he was just hoping something got his pregnant fiancé out of his current strop before he snapped back. He went to take the items back, "I could just—"
Harry snatched the items and held them close. "Thank you," he muttered, popping open the lid on the can of peaches. He made a soft noise of triumph; he loved the clever things Muggles did with food packaging. He ignored Draco and set to work, building his snack.
By the time he was getting full, and had over half of the food eaten, he turned to Draco with a sheepish smile. "Did you want any?" he asked, holding up the last graham cracker.
"No," Draco said, leaning over and kissing a smear of chocolate sauce off Harry's bottom lip. He watched as Harry finished off his snack with a happy sound, pleased to see that petulant frown lifted from his face and a smile on his lips.
He gathered the notes and information on flowers and closed the file. He could go over flowers later. With Pansy. Or Hermione. Or anyone that wasn't a whiny Harry.
.
Harry tried to keep his mood up but it was getting more and more difficult with each friendly inquiry about his (and the baby's) well-being. Unfortunately for Neville, he was the one that broke the proverbial camel's back.
"For fuck's sake! I'm fine! The baby is fine! Nothing happened!" Harry was breathing heavily, his face pink with anger and exertion, and he was glaring murder at his friend.
Neville slowly raised his hands and backed up a few steps. "Sorry, mate. I only just heard and wanted to make sure you were alright."
"I know," Harry said, his irrational anger puffing away. "I'm sorry, it's just... That's all I've heard. All day!" He crossed his arms over his chest, annoyed he had to work around his rounded belly. He sighed loudly and flopped back against the sofa.
Now that he was no longer angry, he had guilt rolling around his belly making him feel horrible for yelling at Neville. "I'm sorry," he repeated.
Neville nodded, settling himself on the sofa next to Harry and patting his shoulder. "It's alright, Harry," he said calmly. He has been taken aback by Harry's outburst, but he'd been around when his friend was pregnant with Gabe and he was aware how volatile Harry's moods could be—even if he'd forgotten temporarily.
Plus, he could understand Harry's annoyance with the constant questions; Harry never had gotten used to being mollycoddled, even if he did enjoy being cared for now and again. But he didn't know he had been one of many to ask, though.
"I just got worried when I heard what happened," Neville said calmly. "Hermione told me about it and I wanted to make sure everything was OK. I'm glad there was no real damage." He tried to keep the threat out of his voice, but the way Harry's eyes slowly turned to glare at him told him he'd been unsuccessful. "Oh, shut up," he said lightly, waving a hand. "I'm pissed at Ron, not you or Draco."
"Oh."
Neville nodded, smirking a little. "Yes. Oh. Who does he think he is, grabbing you like that and trying to 'fix' you? What a load of shit!" He growled under his breath and worked on trying to calm himself down. In his opinion, Ronald Weasley lost the right to care about Harry's well-being the last time he walked away from their friendship. He had no more right to know than any other random person walking around. Though, it was interesting to see he didn't completely hate Harry, he still had no room to impose his will on the wizard.
"I guess he thought I needed help," Harry said with a shrug.
Neville snorted. "As if you need saving from Draco?" He snorted again. He knew damn well Ron wouldn't have done something so stupid and dramatic if Harry was with any other wizard. Ron just had a deep-seated, irrational dislike for Draco. It was only Ron's short-sightedness that kept him from seeing how Draco really was. Even he had been able to see past the pointy git they went to school with.
Besides, he knew Harry well enough to trust his judgment of people. It was an innate thing Harry had and he had learned to respect and listen to it over the years.
"Well, no," Harry said, grinning a little. "But he just doesn't know Draco well enough; he thought he was helping."
Neville sat still, his eyes narrowed as he studied Harry closely. "Are you seriously defending him?"
Harry paused and shrugged casually. "No."
Neville scoffed, pushing against Harry's shoulder lightly. "You were." He shook his head, chuckling softly. "You're such an idiot sometimes," he said fondly, ignoring Harry's outraged squawk. "Seriously, Harry, there's nothing to say that excuses what the bastard did to you. I don't care what his reasons were, or that nothing serious happened; he got off lightly."
He marveled at Draco's restraint; he would have hexed Ron into a stain on the pavement. And he was impressed with Draco's ability to land a solid punch; several, actually. He was pretty sure Draco had never actually physically assaulted someone and it was amusing to think the pure-blooded wizard's first reaction the whole situation was to just pull back a fist and let it fly.
"Whatever."
Neville chuckled again, poking at Harry's shoulder. "Did Draco say the same thing?" Harry's refusal to answer, or look at him, was answer enough. "See? It's true now that we've both said it. We're both very intelligent. And always right." He grinned when it got Harry's mouth twitching with a smile. He patted Harry's leg, glad they didn't end the conversation with an argument.
He gave into his urge to pat Harry's belly and did so. As usual, Harry merely smiled and allowed it. After feeling a nudge against his palm, he slowly pulled his hand back. "Right, well, I just wanted to make sure you were all right."
"Thanks, Nev," Harry said, nodding a little. Even if it had annoyed the ever loving piss out of him earlier, he was glad his friends cared about him (even if too much, at times). "Got plans for dinner?"
Neville shrugged, and settled back into the sofa. "No, why?"
"Well, I was going to see about talking Draco into take-away. Wanna join us?"
Neville snorted softly. Like Harry would have to try hard to talk Draco into anything. Draco was helpless to say no to Harry on a normal day... a pregnant Harry was impossible for him to deny. He'd seen it himself and it still amuses him to watch Draco crumble to Harry's will with nary a fight.
"Yeah, alright. I'll call my darling husband and have him join us."
"Excellent!" Harry grinned and sat back, rubbing his belly.
~*O*~
Draco tapped the stack of files into a neat line, smiling a little. He'd just sent off the last check and their wedding was officially done and paid for. It felt good. He didn't think he'd ever finish but, as usual, Pansy had been invaluable and helped often. Naturally, she had tried to change his mind on a few things (the witch can do her own wedding in shades of pink, lavender and puce, thankyouverymuch). Occasionally she had a good idea and he incorporated the good ones and politely refused the rubbish ones (they were not renting hippogriffs to 'ride off into the sunset'; daft woman).
His mobile rang and he jumped a little, the noise startling him in the quiet of his office. He patted his pockets for a moment before remembering it was in his drawer. He quickly opened it, smiling wider when he saw the display.
"Harry, love," he said, smiling brightly at the prospect of talking with his Harry. There was a soft chuckle that had his brows slowly drawing together. That wasn't Harry.
"Draco, darling."
That definitely wasn't Harry; the voice was different and teasing—almost mocking. There was another chuckle, and he couldn't place the voice. He pulled the phone away, double-checking the ID. "Who is this?" he asked, a slight sense of panic starting to set in. Who had Harry's mobile?
Images of Harry being dragged off invaded and he had to consciously remind himself to breath. Even heavily pregnant, Harry wasn't completely helpless. He refused to beli—
"Merlin, calm down, Draco. It's me, Neville."
Draco felt himself relax for all of two seconds. "Oh, well— Wait! Why do you have Harry's mobile?"
"Harry's at Saint Mungo's," Neville said, a tad too brightly for Draco's sanity. "No Muggle phones allowed. I guess it's easier to just ban them rather than change the wards—"
Draco sat up, clutching his mobile tightly. Harry wasn't due for at least two weeks and he wasn't scheduled for surgery until next week. He silently prayed that was the reason he was at St. Mungo's though; anything else made him want to panic. "Oh Merlin. Is he OK?"
"Yeah, he's fine. Went into labor kinda early," Neville said calmly, smiling a little. "He floo-called me and I got him into the emergency at Saint Mungo's. He got taken in a few minutes ago."
Draco sagged a bit with relief. He was a little annoyed Harry hadn't called him, but he'd question his scatter-brained fiancé later. "Alright. Was he taken into surgery yet?"
"Yeah," Neville said, glancing up and nodding at the healer that popped out of the door and stood by the doorway, waiting for him. He should probably feel bad the healer had to come all the way outside to find him, but he really couldn't manage it. It was the bastard's own fault for not making the adjustments needed so he could use the bloody mobile inside.
"The healer's here. Hold on?" He heard a soft "Yes" and just angled the mobile downwards, not bothering to hang-up. Mostly because he was still annoyed with the Emergency staff and he wanted Draco to hear what was being said.
"He's been prepped and taken into surgery. It shouldn't be long; we can have the baby out in minutes if needed. Are you the father?" Neville snickered and shook his head, smirking a little when the healer just managed to look mildly annoyed. "Alright, well, it won't be more than an hour or so. I'll have someone alert you."
Neville merely nodded and watched the healer walk off, pea-green robes billowing importantly as he let the door close behind himself. What a git. He raised the mobile again, "Did you hear any of that?"
"Yes. I'm leaving now. Where are the boys?" Draco asked, a little distracted as he shoved files into his drawer. He didn't care if they landed in a messy pile, he had more important things to focus on right now.
"Your mum has 'em."
Draco blinked, a little surprised, and stood up and went still. "Really?" he couldn't help asking. "I wasn't aware she was visiting."
"Yeah, apparently she had wanted to surprise Harry and the boys," Neville said and chuckled. He really didn't think Harry had been 'shocked' into an early labor, but it was amusing nonetheless. "Should I have her bring them?"
Draco hurried from his office and thought his options over. He really wanted his mother and sons to be there. "Yes, please," he finally said.
The boys would be crushed if they weren't there to meet their sister. And he knew his mother would be equally disappointed to be denied the chance to see her newborn granddaughter. And knowing the entire group, waiting any longer than it took for her to be born would be unacceptable. Not that he could blame them...
"Thank you, Neville."
"You're welcome, Draco. I'll give Hermione and Pansy a heads up?" He heard Draco hum into the mobile. "Alright. See you at there," he said and disconnected, aware he'd already lost Draco's attention the moment Draco knew of his gratitude. Plus, he was sure Draco was set to apparate any moment and he'd hate for Draco to fry his mobile. Again.
He tapped in a message, sending it to both witches. Two excited messages came right after the other and he grinned as he headed back into the waiting area of St. Mungo's to use the floo. He floo'd Narcissa, clearing his throat, a little nervous to speak to the older witch.
"Hello Neville," Narcissa answered with a small, but warm, smile. "How are you?"
Neville cleared his throat again. He really wished he could have just called Mrs. Malfoy on a mobile... "I'm good, thank you. Yourself?"
"I am well, thank you." She waited a beat, unsure why Neville would call her. "Is everything alright?"
"Yeah," Neville said, nodding. "Harry's gone into labor and I was hoping you and the boys could come."
Narcissa gasped softly, her hand gently clutching at her neck. "Of course! Oh!" she breathed. "One moment," she said as calmly as she could.
She turned away from the fireplace and, with as much decorum as she possessed, hollered for her grandsons. She tactfully ignored Neville's choked laugh and focused on the two little boys that rushed into the room. "Your sister is coming." She smiled warmly when both boys blinked and then whooped happily when they figured out what she meant. "Would you like to go and see her?"
Teddy and Gabe barely needed to consult each other before they both nodded and answered, "Yes!"
"Alright, but we'll have to wait first," Narcissa reminded. She received two shrugs and she raised an eyebrow, making both boys give her sheepish smiles. Shrugging was a pet peeve of hers and she hoped to break her grandsons of the habit yet. "Alright, go get ready." She watched them run from the room before turning back to Neville. "Do you know the room?"
"No, he was only just taken to surgery. We're in the waiting room on the fifth floor. It'll be a bit yet, so there's no rush."
Narcissa nodded and disconnected the floo-call. She was dusting her knees off when both boys hurried back into the room. Gabe's shoes were on the wrong feet and Teddy's tie was crooked, but she could adjust them later—both boys were practically vibrating with excitement and she knew better than to test the bounds of their patience (and manners) by doing it now. She grabbed each of their hands and inclined her head so Teddy knew to grab the powder and throw in it.
A clear, loud call of 'St. Mungo's!' (from Gabe, since Teddy got to do the powder) had them landing in the main entry. She didn't even bother looking at the welcome witch and headed right for the lifts. "Fifth floor, Gabriel."
Gabe pushed the button for 5, bouncing happily on his toes as the doors closed. He bounced excitedly on his toes. His bounced paused as he realized something; "Isn't she early?" he asked, looking up at grandmum, confused.
They had the day circled on their family calendar and it wasn't for a few more days yet. Would being early be bad? He tried not to worry and the little bit of worry that had crept in vanished in a puff when grandmum smiled at him, not hint of worry on her pretty face. She was good at hiding things, but he always knew when she was happy. Or scared. Or worried. Or even, one time, amused.
Narcissa nodded. "Yes, but it happens. Babies come when they're ready, even if it's early. Or late," she added, thinking of her own Draco holding out for nearly three weeks before he finally was ready to join the world. She gave each small hand clutched in hers a light squeeze. Any residual worry or fear on their little faces vanished and she smiled proudly when Teddy's hair flashed a happy yellow.
The lift stopped and the doors opened and she was immediately greeted by Neville.
"Hey boys!" Neville called out, squatting down and opening his arms when both boys were released by their grandmother. He gave each a squeeze and a kiss on the head. "Did you hear the good news?" Both nodded, Teddy's hair shifting to match Gabe's for a moment. "Good. Well," he slowly stood up when Narcissa walked closer. "He's only just been taken in. So. It'll be a while yet," he added, sheepishly.
Narcissa inclined her head and held her hands out, each little boy dutifully grabbing one. "We need to make ourselves presentable. We won't be long," she said and made her way over to the nearest public restroom.
Thankfully, even though they groaned softly, neither boy argued to tried to wiggle away. They knew well enough now not to bother. She made quick work of their appearance and they were back in the waiting room in less than 10 minutes.
"Mother. Boys," Draco greeted, grinning when the boys were released and practically tackled him. He heard Neville chuckle and he noticed his mother smile. He ruffled both little boy's hair and beamed down at them. "Any moment now we'll see Ophelia!" He chuckled when both boys cheered. He finally got used to the name Harry liked and he figured his time for debating was over.
"And daddy!" Gabe added in, trying not to wring his hands in worry. He'd read a book about babies and stuff. Sometimes there were complications and things went bad. Sometimes babies didn't make it. Sometimes daddies or mommies didn't make it. He tried not to think that would happen, but he couldn't help it! He must have looked panicked because papa had him in another tight hug and was murmuring soothing words in his ear.
He slowly relaxed and was embarrassed to realize he'd been crying. "Sorry, papa," he said with a sniffle.
Draco just ran a hand along Gabe's back, giving his mother a grateful look when she led Teddy away to a vending machine that had Muggle soda and wizarding candy available. He nearly winced at the very idea of a sugar-stuffed Teddy but he was glad for the distraction. "It's alright, love. Your daddy and sister will be fine. He's a very lucky guy."
"Really?"
Draco nodded slowly. "Really," he repeated with as much conviction as he could muster. Naturally, he shared each of Gabe's fears (they'd read the same book, together, and wound up thinking the same things) but he couldn't allow himself to ponder them long. He'd go mental.
He dug his mobile out of his pocket and handed it to his son. "Here. I know it won't work for calls or anything, but you can play games," he offered.
Draco smiled when Gabe scrambled from his lap and rushed over to the row of chairs. Teddy was next to Gabe a moment later, sharing a chocolate frog and directing Gabe's game play over his little brother's shoulder as they both munched on their treats. He tried not to wince, deliberately trying not to think about chocolatey finger smudges on his mobile's surface. He sat down next to Neville and settled himself down to wait.
He hated waiting.
And waiting for Harry to be out of surgery was especially nerve wracking.