A/N: THANX TO...
**Fanny chan: *grin* Thanks, dollface!
**Death: *frown* I s'pose you could say that. I actually have a Harry Potter rug. Yes, it's very nifters indeed. *wink*
**(person who didn't sign in): Thanks, but it would be nice to know you you are, instead of a blank tab.
**JaneyLane5: Oi, you're like the only one who gave a whole review. *hug*
**Neon Wildnerness: *giggles* Just tickled pink you like 'em, dollface!
*****This starts off right from where the previous chappie left off!!*****
Chapter Eight: Like Fathers, Like Scudamoor
Dripping, muddy, and glowering, Harry stumbled into the cottage and threw the book onto the couch, where it bounced once and fell to the floor with a wet slap. He glared at the offending pages staring up at him, curling already in the heat of the fire as the water dried. With bitter humor, Harry stomped into the kitchen, telling himself that there was no way Draco would notice the book had ever been moved from its place.
"A Unicorn would rather not notice if its horn were missing," he muttered under his breath, taking a steaming cup of tea with him as he put the book back, sniffles tickling his nose all the way. His pants stuck to him uncomfortably, and he kicked his legs out, trying in a vain attempt to dislodge the cloth from soggy contact with his skin.
Luckily, the leeches weren't feeling the munchies, and Harry's skin was unscathed. Throwing his pants and shirt over the back of a chair to dry, Harry dug around in his drawers and pulled out a fresh pair of underpants. Unfortunately they were the ones Draco had bought him for a joke on Valentines that year. They were bright neon pink with little hearts and cherub Cupids darting back and forth over the fabric. They also happened to be a little on the scanty side. Cursing himself for forgetting to do the wash that week, Harry stalked out into the living room, shaking in the cold of the house and the water still dripping from his sopping tendrils of hair.
Soon enough Harry had a cheery little fire blazing away in the wood stove and was sitting on the rug before the fire with a nice strong cup of tea nestled between his ankles. Too lazy to change into decent clothes, he had stayed put in his Valentine unmentionables.
His glasses hung on the very tip of his nose as he hunched over the crossword puzzle on the floor in front of his tea-warmed toes. A long quill tickled his cheek as he thought. Phallic. What in the hell was that?
"Damn," he grumbled, scratching his head. He had heard Draco use this word before to describe jacked up trucks they saw as "phallic symbols."
'Or lack thereof', Draco had joked. Harry had never thought it that funny because what he understood, phallic meant machoism or something. He wasn't macho, what is so funny about lacking phallic?
"But that mustn't be it," he continued to muse, rolling over onto his back and lifting the steaming tea cup up into the air with his feet. "It says it's five letters. Machoism is nine. Maybe it's just macho, or manly. Or mannishness. No, that's what - ten." He paused. "Is mannishness even a word?"
In the kitchen while he baked some chocolate chip cookies that had molded together into one giant cookie, Harry had pinned up the cross-word booklet, still stuck on the last bloody word. Phallic.
" 'I' is the second to last letter - dammit!" He cursed, hopping on one foot and sucking on his finger. The cookie had slipped off the overly greased pan and onto the floor.
The last crumb of cookie was licked from the edge of his lip, and the crossword booklet sat propped up against a mantle clock. Harry paced, this was driving him complete nuts!
It bothered him so much, he didn't notice when the grandfather clock announced to the house in an old cracked voice, singing along with his chimes, that it was seven. Draco was a half hour late. When the grandfather clock was at the third chime, Harry threw his tea cup at it.
A half an hour later the door to the little cottage opened and Harry looked up from the middle of the couch where he had been crouching like a crazed animal, the crossword clutched in his hands.
"Draco!" He ran to the door. "What does 'phallic' mean? Seriously, I've been racking my brain for an hour trying to solve it. You've used it before, tell me what it means?"
This rather sudden outburst received a small chuckle and a wry reply, "You and I both have used it, darling."
Harry glanced up wonderingly and immediately his eyes flew wide and his hands dove down to cover himself and the embarrassing underpants.
"Er, hey, Draco..... and friend."
"Now, for instance," continued Draco, throwing his companion a look before turning back to a flushing Harry, "You are now covering your phallic from Quinne and I. Get it, love?"
"..... Oh...."
"Hmm, I've known you've always been one for first impressions Harry, but.... Harry, this is one of my close coworkers, Quinne. Quinne, this is my boyfriend, Harry. At his best."
"My pleasure to meet you, Harry," the other man spoke up, thrusting forward a large hand.
Harry stared at him.
"I'm sure he's tickled pink, Quinne," soothed Draco, shooting Harry a death glare over the tall man's shoulder. Quinne drew back his hand, not at all miffed in the least. He was grinning at Harry with gleaming pearly whites that made Harry feel like a wet rag. His face was angled back to get a good view of this new character, even more so because of his glasses still low on the bridge of his nose. Draco pushed passed the both of them and gave Harry a cynical inspection before looking back over his shoulder at Quinne. "Would you like to come in the kitchen and make yourself at home? I think Harry may need a few minutes to change. Maybe we've gotten enough thrill for this evening, Harry?"
The first thing that hit Harry about Quinne after scrutinizing him for five minutes at the kitchen table, slowly sipping his tea, was how ruggedly handsome the man was. From the beautifully sculpted body and perfectly tanned complexion tastefully dressed in an open pale peach dress shirt and loose fitting jeans, to the glossy mop of wild honey auburn curls falling down passed his broad shoulders. The thick mane of hair framed a square, sculpted face with a prominent Roman nose and wide brown eyes that took in the whole world. Fully shaped lips turned up a little at HarryÕs obvious distaste of him, and he tried to break the silence by noticing the view outside the kitchen window. Harry narrowed his eyes as the deep, resonating tenor told how *nice* it was to finally meet him after hearing *so* much about him from Drac.
"Drac?" echoed Harry weakly. Quinne raised his eyebrows and glanced at Draco, who stood leaning against the counter, viewing this one-sided exchange with an amused expression.
"Just a pet name from work," he shrugged.
~*~
"Just a pet name," he pressed earnestly, not able to quell the nervous tapping of his foot and the shaking of his tightly crossed arms. Draco, in nothing but a pair of black boxers, making it very difficult indeed for Harry to be angry with him, looked up wryly at the darker boy, toothpaste dripping off his chin and toothbrush hanging from frothy lips. He snorted, spraying the mirror, which took the foam patiently, only muttering darkly under its breath.
"Harry, I don't know why you're so bent out of shape about Quinne. He dropped me off-"
"An HOUR late!"
"-because he's been wanting to meet *you*! You're being childish."
"He's gorgeously buff, Draco. He's - he's-"
"The complete opposite of you, so what's your worry? Harry, do I have to remind you how much I love you?"
"Yes."
Draco looked momentarily hurt before spitting out the rest of his toothpaste and wiping his mouth. He looked hard at Harry, which the man fidgeted under, but kept his gaze steady.
"Oh, Harry." Draco threw his arms around his neck and kissed him firmly on the lips, surprising Harry a little. "I love you *too* much. Who knew I could fall for such the Gryffindor hero. Though they do say opposites attract. Amen to that, eh?" Laughing, he ruffled Harry's wild fringe and took off the thick framed glasses, tossing them behind Harry where they bounced on the bed and slipped to the floor. Then he set his palms firmly against Harry's chest and started backing him up.
"You know," he said matter-of-factly as Harry was pressed against the edge of the door, knocking it shut, "I think you need some genuine proof, eh? I mean, what are words - compared to actions?"
"You know, Draco, I think you're right."
"Love, I'm *always* right."
"Kudos to that," Harry breathed as his shirt was lifted over his head, "Kudos to that....."
..... He arched into the other boy, gasping with frail breath, "We'll be late. Draco, we're going to be late for-"
Silver eyes glinted dangerously. "You don't like this?"
Harry panted heavier. "Yes.... please, Draco...."
"Then keep quiet until I am done."
The class all turned and watched as Draco came sauntering into their masses, smirking coyly and blowing kisses to all the Gryffindors glowering darkly at him. He looked like a boy who had just been given the world. As the others turned to see a rather disheveled Harry stagger up a few minutes later, Draco wiped the side of his mouth and smirked wider.
"Harry, where were you," demanded Ron quietly, glaring hot pokers into Malfoy's back. The pale eyed youth felt his glare and turned to look back with a blank expression that sent deep growls reverberating in Ron's throat. Gently laying a peace imbedding hand upon his shoulder, Hermione looked Harry over with sharp disapproval.
"You're late," she pointed out curtly. He nodded and tried to hide the blush that has stained the tops of his cheeks.
"Did Malfoy rile you up a bit?"
Harry failed to appreciate the wry humor Draco would of salvaged from this comment, and shook his head. "Just forgot something up in the dorm, that's all." Still looking very doubtful, Ron and Hermione traded looks and then gave their attention to Hagrid, who had just ambled into the yard holding several huge crates in his massive arms. A number of Slytherins and one or two Gryffindors groaned.
"Quit with yer moping," Hagrid roared, amusement in his beetle black eyes. Hermione craned her neck to see over the broad shoulder of a Slytherin and tilted her head to one side.
The top crate was open, and inside was what looked like a huge gelatin mass of black caviar. She wrinkled her nose a as a slight fishy smell bombarded her senses. Pansy Parkinson gagged next to her.
Harry glanced sidelong at Draco who was watching the small twitching movement of the black sludge with an expression equal to that of a man told he was condemned to worked in the sewers with the rats. Only a little more reserved.
"These here are what you would call.... anyone?"
Hermione's hand shot up right on cue. Ron nearly had to dive out of the way or get his ear torn off if her finger caught.
"These creatures are commonly known as Scudamoors. They thrive on the love and care of other creatures. In other words, this creature is a parasite. An experiment was performed and a Scudamoor grew and developed under the nurturing of a mother goose. They take the shape of the animal they are bonded to, and if are taken well care of, leave the nest after only a short time."
"In other words," Hagrid continued, winking at a rather flushed Hermione, "These here animals are going to be yer responsibility fer today. You'll get partnered up, and both o' you will set yer hands on the Scudamoor I give you. Then the little guy'll start changin' and become what a child would look like if you both were the parents."
The class started talking animatedly, boys sliding over next to girls, and girls giggling. Hermione and Ron looked at each other and held hands. Harry bit his lip.
"No, no, no! Let's make this a bit interestin', eh?" Hagrid shook his head at the Gryffindors and Slytherins standing tightly together. "I want you to go with the other house, got that? And if yeh don' pick, I will." There was much grumbling after this comment. The students milled about until Hagrid started to bellow out names. The matches were horrible, so people just took a chance grabbing whoever was nearest.
Harry felt a long fingered hand close painfully around his wrist. Gasping in alarm, he stumbled back, chills running up his spine as he felt the familiar sweetly cool breath on his neck.
"But Draco," he whispered frightfully, looking wildly to all the other students getting paired.
"Stuff it, Potter," Draco replied airily as Hagrid vaguely motioned to them. He smirked into dark black hair and withdrew, his features molding once more into his trademark sneer. "Lucky me."
Harry poked curiously at the lump of goo sitting on the ground in front of them. His wand hissed with the contact. Nearly stumbling back, he rose to his feet and backed behind Draco, his nose wrinkling in disgust. No one else even spared them a glance. Hagrid was right at the moment in a yelling match with Lavender (who had been paired with Goyle). Seems she wasn't too keen on putting her hands in the Scudamoor as Goyle just looked on dumbly. Harry couldn't blame her in the least.
"Is our Golden Boy feeling a bit squeamish, then?" Draco teased, squatting down and scooping up the jellyfish like mass in his dragon hyde gloved hands. He inspected it closely, putting his gray eyes right up to it, and making poor Harry feel again what he had had for breakfast.
"Draco, quit touching it!"
"Potter, this is our child," Draco said, holding the glob close and looking hurt, "Don't you see how beautiful it is?"
"You're not funny. Now, put it down."
"And you once faced down spiders and defeated a dragon, not to mention Lord Voldemort himself."
He thrust the pile up at Harry, who scuttled back like a frightened crab. Draco smirked at him, and cocked his ear to listen quickly to Hagrid telling them the last minute precautions. Giving Harry a nasty evil look indeed, he tapped the pile of glup with his wand and motioned for Harry to approach.
"Now lay your hand on it."
"No!"
"Just for a second."
"Yech!"
"Don't be such a weenie. Put you're bloody hand on it, or your face will have to suffice."
Harry hesitantly put his hand forward, and winced when Draco grabbed it roughly and shoved in into the pile. They both stared as the thing twitched. Draco hurriedly spoke the correct words, spiraling his wand upwards from their joined hands to wake it. Beneath Harry's shaking digits, the pile began to squirm, and a thin wailing cry emit not only from their own mass, but from all the others.
"Now, peel off the outer covering!" Hagrid yelled merrily, his eyes crinkling with a gigantic grin. Draco smoothly peeled back the slimy outer covering to reveal the most amazing thing Harry had ever seen in his entire life.
It was a child.
She had the lightest shade of black hair sticking out every which way from her tiny cherub face, flushed and exuberant, barely veiling the glowing of her silver eyes which glittered in the sunlight overhead. Her tiny fist beat on Draco's hands, and her toothless mouth turned up into a smile. It dazzled both the boys, and Harry felt nearly weak. So weak in fact, that he sat down abruptly on the ground. Draco held the little girl up a little higher and stared at her, silver flashing eyes to silver flashing eyes. One pair with the utmost amusement, and the other with the utmost wonder and awe.
Hagrid's laughter was heard over all, and he reminded them they had over forty minutes left with their children. The students barely heard him inform them to take notes on the child's behavior, all too mesmerized by the kicking bundles of joy they held in their arms. Lavender actually hugged Goyle as he rocked their little girl back and forth. Pansy Parkinson swatted irritably at Ron, who was at the moment trying to view his son.
Both Harry and Draco set their little girl on the grass and kneeled down next to her as she wiggled around, separating herself from the last of the black goo sticking to her skin.
"Now, go about naming these little tikes."
After recovering from the shock of what they had just beheld, many couples broke out into fights over the names of their children.
Draco sat back, bouncing the little girl on his knee as she squealed with delight, Harry's glasses perched on her little button nose. The raven haired boy chewed on a blade of grass as Hagrid made his way among the pairs, breaking up fights and seeing the outcome of his rather risky experiment that most parents would most surely disapprove of. The giant man pushed through, coming upon a hapless Neville and hissing Millicent Bullstrode.
"Its sex rather ruins everything," Draco sighed, letting the little girl gnaw on his finger determinedly with her pink gums. Harry glanced sidelong at him and shrugged. He tickled the baby's side and she giggled louder, rolling off of Draco's knee (taking his finger with her) and crawling swiftly over to Harry's ear, which she immediately used to replace Draco's finger as a chew toy.
"It's not like naming a dog," Harry volunteered helpfully, "So I would avoid any names like Sparky."
"I'll not further address that comment, Harry. Since I come from a family that has a long line of heirs, holding their father or mother's name, I vouch we name the thing Dracona."
Harry stared at him. "This *thing* is what our child would look like. You want to curse it with a name like 'Dracona'? You might as well name her Harriet, at least that's more fitting for a girl." As he said this, the untitled tot got to her tottery feet and made her way over to Seamus' and a Slytherin named Amber's tittle boy, and punched him in the stomach with her tiny hands.
Draco was on his feet in an instant, motioning to Seamus trying to tear the little dark haired girl away from his bawling child. "She resembles me more. Harriet is the name of some big haired typist in an office building of the sixties."
"My great grandmother was named Harriet!"
"That's good for her, Potter. But we're discussing class. Don't bother to bring you're family into this."
Harry looked positively scandalized and was pumping up for a real nasty retort when their little girl came running back to them, covered from head to tiny foot in mud. She had escaped under the fence to the gardens and romped with Hagrid's pigs in the mud after running from Seamus. Harry scooped her up in his arms, glaring at Draco.
"You know, now that you bring it up, she *does* resemble you more!"
"Fine! You name the blasted thing what you will."
Harry pursed his lips, racking his brain for a name to throw in Draco's face. When nothing came to his lips, Draco huffed drily at him and walked over, his face softening as he slipped the little girl from Harry's arms and held her, trying in vain to wipe the mud from her fresh features with a dainty white handkerchief.
They glanced at each other and Harry began to apologize, but Draco shook his head, gently swaying his arms. Green eyes turned downwards to see their little girl fast asleep in Draco's embrace, her dirty thumb stuck in her mouth, mud caked lashes sticking to the tops of her brown crusted cheeks. He smiled softly, moving close to Draco so that their foreheads gently bumped. Wiping at the muck he ran a delicate finger over her soft cheeks, and raised his eyes for a moment to meet Draco's. At that moment, no one was there, and luckily no one else was looking.
"You know, boys," boomed Hagrid behind Harry, "She looks just like my aunt Nayve. Always covered from head to toe in mud!"
Harry laughed, laying a gentle kiss of the girl's forehead. "Nayve? I like it, Draco. What about you?"
"Nayve. Malfoy/Potter. Nayve Malter."
"Makes enough sense to me."
"Let's just make one thing clear over this kid, Potter: I'm the father."
Harry grinned at him, "Sure, honey."
The students were allowed to keep their Scudakids until the end of class, when Hagrid made his way around and grabbed up the Scudamoors, plopping them back into the crates. Many of the "parents" became rather emotional with tears in their eyes as they waved goodbye to the now again piles of caviar looking stuff. Nayve blew her daddies a kiss and melted back into what she had been before. Some of the couples were standing very close together, watching as Hagrid loaded up the crates and assigned them several pages to summarize about these certain animals.
"Now, I want no sad faces! You wait a good number more years and soon you'll be havin' yer own families." This reminder seemed to brighten the mood somewhat, and for the young witches and wizards to feel the after affects of what Scudamoors do to a person, being what they were; parasites. Seamus actually sat down, rubbing his aching temples that throbbed with headache. Ron messaged Hermione's shoulders, and Lavender dozed on Goyle's shoulder.
Hagrid seemed to be having a very good time with it.
"Now ye get a chance to feel how yer parents do all the time!"
Harry and Draco sat together a little ways off. As Hagrid dismissed them for the day, Draco gripped Harry's hand and they made a promise to meet at the Owlery later that evening.
~*~
"She was beautiful wasn't she, Draco?"
"She was what would come of you and me. She was perfect."
Harry accepted this two-way compliment in silence. The two of them had left the Owlery, having had to stage a fight when a second year walked in on them in an embrace. Now they were on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, down a ways from Hagrid's hut up in the low hanging branches of a tree.
"Nayve reminded me that we'll never have a family."
"Don't be stupid, Harry."
Harry stayed quiet after that, but he couldn't help but notice the tenseness of Draco's arms after that, or how cold his kisses were on his cheeks and lips. When he leaned back with Draco over him, he couldn't help but notice that Draco refused to meet his eyes.....
..... His wrists were hot against the cool tile, and Draco's fingers hard over his skin. Harry rolled his shoulders back a little for a more comfortable position. Draco cast him a wry glance before returning with his lips to attack Harry's chest, relishing the wet gasps and muffled moans coming from Harry's rose bud mouth.
Water cascaded down both their torsos, and Harry blinked a little, his shining lashes sending tiny water droplets flying onto Draco's mercury colored tendrils. He arched his back, digging his shoulders into the ridge of the tub. Draco purred against his chest, pulling on Harry's knees and grinding his hips into the bucking form beneath him.
Harry was nearly lying down by the time Draco pulled away and let him breathe. The former Slytherin watched him with heavy lidded eyes, crouched there between Harry's bent legs. Sharp elbows perched upon either knee, and Draco smiled with a feral mischief down at Harry, who was at the moment inspecting the bruises on his wrists with a critical eye.
"We really don't do this enough."
Harry looked up, "No?"
Draco leaned forward, pressing his mouth to Harry's throbbing adam's apple. "No."
Hands, long and graceful, a seeker's hands, pressed on Draco's back and the blonde settled himself down, aligning himself with Harry's body and crushing their lips together.
"The water's getting cold," Harry gasped.
"You'll be wishing for ice when I'm done with you."
"Too much talk," Harry reminded him teasingly, "Not enough action."
"Be careful what you wish for, Potter."
Draco grabbed Harry's hips and yanked downwards. Harry uttered a small cry as he slithered down in the wet tub so that he was looking straight up into Draco's face, water dropping down on him from curling blonde tresses. His breath became quick and jagged as Draco smirked.
"It just may come true."
A/N: About that baby thing..... yeah. Sorry 'bout that. *laughs* Seems like I've been apologizing an awfuly bit lately. Oh well. I enjoyed this chapter myelf, regardless of the few blips it bears. Anyway, you should be happy. It's Christmas Eve! And even though I happen to loathe the holidays, I wish you all a nice one. *hugs and kisses* Au revior!
~*Villain*~
**Fanny chan: *grin* Thanks, dollface!
**Death: *frown* I s'pose you could say that. I actually have a Harry Potter rug. Yes, it's very nifters indeed. *wink*
**(person who didn't sign in): Thanks, but it would be nice to know you you are, instead of a blank tab.
**JaneyLane5: Oi, you're like the only one who gave a whole review. *hug*
**Neon Wildnerness: *giggles* Just tickled pink you like 'em, dollface!
*****This starts off right from where the previous chappie left off!!*****
Chapter Eight: Like Fathers, Like Scudamoor
Dripping, muddy, and glowering, Harry stumbled into the cottage and threw the book onto the couch, where it bounced once and fell to the floor with a wet slap. He glared at the offending pages staring up at him, curling already in the heat of the fire as the water dried. With bitter humor, Harry stomped into the kitchen, telling himself that there was no way Draco would notice the book had ever been moved from its place.
"A Unicorn would rather not notice if its horn were missing," he muttered under his breath, taking a steaming cup of tea with him as he put the book back, sniffles tickling his nose all the way. His pants stuck to him uncomfortably, and he kicked his legs out, trying in a vain attempt to dislodge the cloth from soggy contact with his skin.
Luckily, the leeches weren't feeling the munchies, and Harry's skin was unscathed. Throwing his pants and shirt over the back of a chair to dry, Harry dug around in his drawers and pulled out a fresh pair of underpants. Unfortunately they were the ones Draco had bought him for a joke on Valentines that year. They were bright neon pink with little hearts and cherub Cupids darting back and forth over the fabric. They also happened to be a little on the scanty side. Cursing himself for forgetting to do the wash that week, Harry stalked out into the living room, shaking in the cold of the house and the water still dripping from his sopping tendrils of hair.
Soon enough Harry had a cheery little fire blazing away in the wood stove and was sitting on the rug before the fire with a nice strong cup of tea nestled between his ankles. Too lazy to change into decent clothes, he had stayed put in his Valentine unmentionables.
His glasses hung on the very tip of his nose as he hunched over the crossword puzzle on the floor in front of his tea-warmed toes. A long quill tickled his cheek as he thought. Phallic. What in the hell was that?
"Damn," he grumbled, scratching his head. He had heard Draco use this word before to describe jacked up trucks they saw as "phallic symbols."
'Or lack thereof', Draco had joked. Harry had never thought it that funny because what he understood, phallic meant machoism or something. He wasn't macho, what is so funny about lacking phallic?
"But that mustn't be it," he continued to muse, rolling over onto his back and lifting the steaming tea cup up into the air with his feet. "It says it's five letters. Machoism is nine. Maybe it's just macho, or manly. Or mannishness. No, that's what - ten." He paused. "Is mannishness even a word?"
In the kitchen while he baked some chocolate chip cookies that had molded together into one giant cookie, Harry had pinned up the cross-word booklet, still stuck on the last bloody word. Phallic.
" 'I' is the second to last letter - dammit!" He cursed, hopping on one foot and sucking on his finger. The cookie had slipped off the overly greased pan and onto the floor.
The last crumb of cookie was licked from the edge of his lip, and the crossword booklet sat propped up against a mantle clock. Harry paced, this was driving him complete nuts!
It bothered him so much, he didn't notice when the grandfather clock announced to the house in an old cracked voice, singing along with his chimes, that it was seven. Draco was a half hour late. When the grandfather clock was at the third chime, Harry threw his tea cup at it.
A half an hour later the door to the little cottage opened and Harry looked up from the middle of the couch where he had been crouching like a crazed animal, the crossword clutched in his hands.
"Draco!" He ran to the door. "What does 'phallic' mean? Seriously, I've been racking my brain for an hour trying to solve it. You've used it before, tell me what it means?"
This rather sudden outburst received a small chuckle and a wry reply, "You and I both have used it, darling."
Harry glanced up wonderingly and immediately his eyes flew wide and his hands dove down to cover himself and the embarrassing underpants.
"Er, hey, Draco..... and friend."
"Now, for instance," continued Draco, throwing his companion a look before turning back to a flushing Harry, "You are now covering your phallic from Quinne and I. Get it, love?"
"..... Oh...."
"Hmm, I've known you've always been one for first impressions Harry, but.... Harry, this is one of my close coworkers, Quinne. Quinne, this is my boyfriend, Harry. At his best."
"My pleasure to meet you, Harry," the other man spoke up, thrusting forward a large hand.
Harry stared at him.
"I'm sure he's tickled pink, Quinne," soothed Draco, shooting Harry a death glare over the tall man's shoulder. Quinne drew back his hand, not at all miffed in the least. He was grinning at Harry with gleaming pearly whites that made Harry feel like a wet rag. His face was angled back to get a good view of this new character, even more so because of his glasses still low on the bridge of his nose. Draco pushed passed the both of them and gave Harry a cynical inspection before looking back over his shoulder at Quinne. "Would you like to come in the kitchen and make yourself at home? I think Harry may need a few minutes to change. Maybe we've gotten enough thrill for this evening, Harry?"
The first thing that hit Harry about Quinne after scrutinizing him for five minutes at the kitchen table, slowly sipping his tea, was how ruggedly handsome the man was. From the beautifully sculpted body and perfectly tanned complexion tastefully dressed in an open pale peach dress shirt and loose fitting jeans, to the glossy mop of wild honey auburn curls falling down passed his broad shoulders. The thick mane of hair framed a square, sculpted face with a prominent Roman nose and wide brown eyes that took in the whole world. Fully shaped lips turned up a little at HarryÕs obvious distaste of him, and he tried to break the silence by noticing the view outside the kitchen window. Harry narrowed his eyes as the deep, resonating tenor told how *nice* it was to finally meet him after hearing *so* much about him from Drac.
"Drac?" echoed Harry weakly. Quinne raised his eyebrows and glanced at Draco, who stood leaning against the counter, viewing this one-sided exchange with an amused expression.
"Just a pet name from work," he shrugged.
~*~
"Just a pet name," he pressed earnestly, not able to quell the nervous tapping of his foot and the shaking of his tightly crossed arms. Draco, in nothing but a pair of black boxers, making it very difficult indeed for Harry to be angry with him, looked up wryly at the darker boy, toothpaste dripping off his chin and toothbrush hanging from frothy lips. He snorted, spraying the mirror, which took the foam patiently, only muttering darkly under its breath.
"Harry, I don't know why you're so bent out of shape about Quinne. He dropped me off-"
"An HOUR late!"
"-because he's been wanting to meet *you*! You're being childish."
"He's gorgeously buff, Draco. He's - he's-"
"The complete opposite of you, so what's your worry? Harry, do I have to remind you how much I love you?"
"Yes."
Draco looked momentarily hurt before spitting out the rest of his toothpaste and wiping his mouth. He looked hard at Harry, which the man fidgeted under, but kept his gaze steady.
"Oh, Harry." Draco threw his arms around his neck and kissed him firmly on the lips, surprising Harry a little. "I love you *too* much. Who knew I could fall for such the Gryffindor hero. Though they do say opposites attract. Amen to that, eh?" Laughing, he ruffled Harry's wild fringe and took off the thick framed glasses, tossing them behind Harry where they bounced on the bed and slipped to the floor. Then he set his palms firmly against Harry's chest and started backing him up.
"You know," he said matter-of-factly as Harry was pressed against the edge of the door, knocking it shut, "I think you need some genuine proof, eh? I mean, what are words - compared to actions?"
"You know, Draco, I think you're right."
"Love, I'm *always* right."
"Kudos to that," Harry breathed as his shirt was lifted over his head, "Kudos to that....."
..... He arched into the other boy, gasping with frail breath, "We'll be late. Draco, we're going to be late for-"
Silver eyes glinted dangerously. "You don't like this?"
Harry panted heavier. "Yes.... please, Draco...."
"Then keep quiet until I am done."
The class all turned and watched as Draco came sauntering into their masses, smirking coyly and blowing kisses to all the Gryffindors glowering darkly at him. He looked like a boy who had just been given the world. As the others turned to see a rather disheveled Harry stagger up a few minutes later, Draco wiped the side of his mouth and smirked wider.
"Harry, where were you," demanded Ron quietly, glaring hot pokers into Malfoy's back. The pale eyed youth felt his glare and turned to look back with a blank expression that sent deep growls reverberating in Ron's throat. Gently laying a peace imbedding hand upon his shoulder, Hermione looked Harry over with sharp disapproval.
"You're late," she pointed out curtly. He nodded and tried to hide the blush that has stained the tops of his cheeks.
"Did Malfoy rile you up a bit?"
Harry failed to appreciate the wry humor Draco would of salvaged from this comment, and shook his head. "Just forgot something up in the dorm, that's all." Still looking very doubtful, Ron and Hermione traded looks and then gave their attention to Hagrid, who had just ambled into the yard holding several huge crates in his massive arms. A number of Slytherins and one or two Gryffindors groaned.
"Quit with yer moping," Hagrid roared, amusement in his beetle black eyes. Hermione craned her neck to see over the broad shoulder of a Slytherin and tilted her head to one side.
The top crate was open, and inside was what looked like a huge gelatin mass of black caviar. She wrinkled her nose a as a slight fishy smell bombarded her senses. Pansy Parkinson gagged next to her.
Harry glanced sidelong at Draco who was watching the small twitching movement of the black sludge with an expression equal to that of a man told he was condemned to worked in the sewers with the rats. Only a little more reserved.
"These here are what you would call.... anyone?"
Hermione's hand shot up right on cue. Ron nearly had to dive out of the way or get his ear torn off if her finger caught.
"These creatures are commonly known as Scudamoors. They thrive on the love and care of other creatures. In other words, this creature is a parasite. An experiment was performed and a Scudamoor grew and developed under the nurturing of a mother goose. They take the shape of the animal they are bonded to, and if are taken well care of, leave the nest after only a short time."
"In other words," Hagrid continued, winking at a rather flushed Hermione, "These here animals are going to be yer responsibility fer today. You'll get partnered up, and both o' you will set yer hands on the Scudamoor I give you. Then the little guy'll start changin' and become what a child would look like if you both were the parents."
The class started talking animatedly, boys sliding over next to girls, and girls giggling. Hermione and Ron looked at each other and held hands. Harry bit his lip.
"No, no, no! Let's make this a bit interestin', eh?" Hagrid shook his head at the Gryffindors and Slytherins standing tightly together. "I want you to go with the other house, got that? And if yeh don' pick, I will." There was much grumbling after this comment. The students milled about until Hagrid started to bellow out names. The matches were horrible, so people just took a chance grabbing whoever was nearest.
Harry felt a long fingered hand close painfully around his wrist. Gasping in alarm, he stumbled back, chills running up his spine as he felt the familiar sweetly cool breath on his neck.
"But Draco," he whispered frightfully, looking wildly to all the other students getting paired.
"Stuff it, Potter," Draco replied airily as Hagrid vaguely motioned to them. He smirked into dark black hair and withdrew, his features molding once more into his trademark sneer. "Lucky me."
Harry poked curiously at the lump of goo sitting on the ground in front of them. His wand hissed with the contact. Nearly stumbling back, he rose to his feet and backed behind Draco, his nose wrinkling in disgust. No one else even spared them a glance. Hagrid was right at the moment in a yelling match with Lavender (who had been paired with Goyle). Seems she wasn't too keen on putting her hands in the Scudamoor as Goyle just looked on dumbly. Harry couldn't blame her in the least.
"Is our Golden Boy feeling a bit squeamish, then?" Draco teased, squatting down and scooping up the jellyfish like mass in his dragon hyde gloved hands. He inspected it closely, putting his gray eyes right up to it, and making poor Harry feel again what he had had for breakfast.
"Draco, quit touching it!"
"Potter, this is our child," Draco said, holding the glob close and looking hurt, "Don't you see how beautiful it is?"
"You're not funny. Now, put it down."
"And you once faced down spiders and defeated a dragon, not to mention Lord Voldemort himself."
He thrust the pile up at Harry, who scuttled back like a frightened crab. Draco smirked at him, and cocked his ear to listen quickly to Hagrid telling them the last minute precautions. Giving Harry a nasty evil look indeed, he tapped the pile of glup with his wand and motioned for Harry to approach.
"Now lay your hand on it."
"No!"
"Just for a second."
"Yech!"
"Don't be such a weenie. Put you're bloody hand on it, or your face will have to suffice."
Harry hesitantly put his hand forward, and winced when Draco grabbed it roughly and shoved in into the pile. They both stared as the thing twitched. Draco hurriedly spoke the correct words, spiraling his wand upwards from their joined hands to wake it. Beneath Harry's shaking digits, the pile began to squirm, and a thin wailing cry emit not only from their own mass, but from all the others.
"Now, peel off the outer covering!" Hagrid yelled merrily, his eyes crinkling with a gigantic grin. Draco smoothly peeled back the slimy outer covering to reveal the most amazing thing Harry had ever seen in his entire life.
It was a child.
She had the lightest shade of black hair sticking out every which way from her tiny cherub face, flushed and exuberant, barely veiling the glowing of her silver eyes which glittered in the sunlight overhead. Her tiny fist beat on Draco's hands, and her toothless mouth turned up into a smile. It dazzled both the boys, and Harry felt nearly weak. So weak in fact, that he sat down abruptly on the ground. Draco held the little girl up a little higher and stared at her, silver flashing eyes to silver flashing eyes. One pair with the utmost amusement, and the other with the utmost wonder and awe.
Hagrid's laughter was heard over all, and he reminded them they had over forty minutes left with their children. The students barely heard him inform them to take notes on the child's behavior, all too mesmerized by the kicking bundles of joy they held in their arms. Lavender actually hugged Goyle as he rocked their little girl back and forth. Pansy Parkinson swatted irritably at Ron, who was at the moment trying to view his son.
Both Harry and Draco set their little girl on the grass and kneeled down next to her as she wiggled around, separating herself from the last of the black goo sticking to her skin.
"Now, go about naming these little tikes."
After recovering from the shock of what they had just beheld, many couples broke out into fights over the names of their children.
Draco sat back, bouncing the little girl on his knee as she squealed with delight, Harry's glasses perched on her little button nose. The raven haired boy chewed on a blade of grass as Hagrid made his way among the pairs, breaking up fights and seeing the outcome of his rather risky experiment that most parents would most surely disapprove of. The giant man pushed through, coming upon a hapless Neville and hissing Millicent Bullstrode.
"Its sex rather ruins everything," Draco sighed, letting the little girl gnaw on his finger determinedly with her pink gums. Harry glanced sidelong at him and shrugged. He tickled the baby's side and she giggled louder, rolling off of Draco's knee (taking his finger with her) and crawling swiftly over to Harry's ear, which she immediately used to replace Draco's finger as a chew toy.
"It's not like naming a dog," Harry volunteered helpfully, "So I would avoid any names like Sparky."
"I'll not further address that comment, Harry. Since I come from a family that has a long line of heirs, holding their father or mother's name, I vouch we name the thing Dracona."
Harry stared at him. "This *thing* is what our child would look like. You want to curse it with a name like 'Dracona'? You might as well name her Harriet, at least that's more fitting for a girl." As he said this, the untitled tot got to her tottery feet and made her way over to Seamus' and a Slytherin named Amber's tittle boy, and punched him in the stomach with her tiny hands.
Draco was on his feet in an instant, motioning to Seamus trying to tear the little dark haired girl away from his bawling child. "She resembles me more. Harriet is the name of some big haired typist in an office building of the sixties."
"My great grandmother was named Harriet!"
"That's good for her, Potter. But we're discussing class. Don't bother to bring you're family into this."
Harry looked positively scandalized and was pumping up for a real nasty retort when their little girl came running back to them, covered from head to tiny foot in mud. She had escaped under the fence to the gardens and romped with Hagrid's pigs in the mud after running from Seamus. Harry scooped her up in his arms, glaring at Draco.
"You know, now that you bring it up, she *does* resemble you more!"
"Fine! You name the blasted thing what you will."
Harry pursed his lips, racking his brain for a name to throw in Draco's face. When nothing came to his lips, Draco huffed drily at him and walked over, his face softening as he slipped the little girl from Harry's arms and held her, trying in vain to wipe the mud from her fresh features with a dainty white handkerchief.
They glanced at each other and Harry began to apologize, but Draco shook his head, gently swaying his arms. Green eyes turned downwards to see their little girl fast asleep in Draco's embrace, her dirty thumb stuck in her mouth, mud caked lashes sticking to the tops of her brown crusted cheeks. He smiled softly, moving close to Draco so that their foreheads gently bumped. Wiping at the muck he ran a delicate finger over her soft cheeks, and raised his eyes for a moment to meet Draco's. At that moment, no one was there, and luckily no one else was looking.
"You know, boys," boomed Hagrid behind Harry, "She looks just like my aunt Nayve. Always covered from head to toe in mud!"
Harry laughed, laying a gentle kiss of the girl's forehead. "Nayve? I like it, Draco. What about you?"
"Nayve. Malfoy/Potter. Nayve Malter."
"Makes enough sense to me."
"Let's just make one thing clear over this kid, Potter: I'm the father."
Harry grinned at him, "Sure, honey."
The students were allowed to keep their Scudakids until the end of class, when Hagrid made his way around and grabbed up the Scudamoors, plopping them back into the crates. Many of the "parents" became rather emotional with tears in their eyes as they waved goodbye to the now again piles of caviar looking stuff. Nayve blew her daddies a kiss and melted back into what she had been before. Some of the couples were standing very close together, watching as Hagrid loaded up the crates and assigned them several pages to summarize about these certain animals.
"Now, I want no sad faces! You wait a good number more years and soon you'll be havin' yer own families." This reminder seemed to brighten the mood somewhat, and for the young witches and wizards to feel the after affects of what Scudamoors do to a person, being what they were; parasites. Seamus actually sat down, rubbing his aching temples that throbbed with headache. Ron messaged Hermione's shoulders, and Lavender dozed on Goyle's shoulder.
Hagrid seemed to be having a very good time with it.
"Now ye get a chance to feel how yer parents do all the time!"
Harry and Draco sat together a little ways off. As Hagrid dismissed them for the day, Draco gripped Harry's hand and they made a promise to meet at the Owlery later that evening.
~*~
"She was beautiful wasn't she, Draco?"
"She was what would come of you and me. She was perfect."
Harry accepted this two-way compliment in silence. The two of them had left the Owlery, having had to stage a fight when a second year walked in on them in an embrace. Now they were on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, down a ways from Hagrid's hut up in the low hanging branches of a tree.
"Nayve reminded me that we'll never have a family."
"Don't be stupid, Harry."
Harry stayed quiet after that, but he couldn't help but notice the tenseness of Draco's arms after that, or how cold his kisses were on his cheeks and lips. When he leaned back with Draco over him, he couldn't help but notice that Draco refused to meet his eyes.....
..... His wrists were hot against the cool tile, and Draco's fingers hard over his skin. Harry rolled his shoulders back a little for a more comfortable position. Draco cast him a wry glance before returning with his lips to attack Harry's chest, relishing the wet gasps and muffled moans coming from Harry's rose bud mouth.
Water cascaded down both their torsos, and Harry blinked a little, his shining lashes sending tiny water droplets flying onto Draco's mercury colored tendrils. He arched his back, digging his shoulders into the ridge of the tub. Draco purred against his chest, pulling on Harry's knees and grinding his hips into the bucking form beneath him.
Harry was nearly lying down by the time Draco pulled away and let him breathe. The former Slytherin watched him with heavy lidded eyes, crouched there between Harry's bent legs. Sharp elbows perched upon either knee, and Draco smiled with a feral mischief down at Harry, who was at the moment inspecting the bruises on his wrists with a critical eye.
"We really don't do this enough."
Harry looked up, "No?"
Draco leaned forward, pressing his mouth to Harry's throbbing adam's apple. "No."
Hands, long and graceful, a seeker's hands, pressed on Draco's back and the blonde settled himself down, aligning himself with Harry's body and crushing their lips together.
"The water's getting cold," Harry gasped.
"You'll be wishing for ice when I'm done with you."
"Too much talk," Harry reminded him teasingly, "Not enough action."
"Be careful what you wish for, Potter."
Draco grabbed Harry's hips and yanked downwards. Harry uttered a small cry as he slithered down in the wet tub so that he was looking straight up into Draco's face, water dropping down on him from curling blonde tresses. His breath became quick and jagged as Draco smirked.
"It just may come true."
A/N: About that baby thing..... yeah. Sorry 'bout that. *laughs* Seems like I've been apologizing an awfuly bit lately. Oh well. I enjoyed this chapter myelf, regardless of the few blips it bears. Anyway, you should be happy. It's Christmas Eve! And even though I happen to loathe the holidays, I wish you all a nice one. *hugs and kisses* Au revior!
~*Villain*~