SUMMARY: Draco is forced to make a potion with Neville Longbottom and
of course it gets screwed up. Although no one knows it, the potion they
thought was a simple warmth potion ends up becoming Draco's worst
nightmare. Or will it become his biggest miracle? (SLASH, MPREG) Be warned,
this is a HARRYxDRACO fic.
Author's Note: I will try to stick to each character's personality as much as possible, but forgive me if anyone seems a bit OOC at times. Thanks! Oh yeah, and no flames please!
Diclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and neither am I making money for writing this pathetic attempt of a fanfic. Harry Potter and all the other characters belong to JK Rowling.
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Yet another boring month passed, with Madame Pomfrey giving Draco another clean bill of health. And it was official, he carried twins. But not only twins...a girl and a boy who appeared to be potential great wizards. That was to be expected though, Draco and Harry were both very powerful. Why wouldn't their children be the same?
One particularly boring evening, most of the students were gathered in the Great Hall, lingering over supper. They had two hours till curfew, and didn't particularly feel like moving. Boredom was a common malady among them, and the cases of laziness had soared in the past few days.
Suddenly, Dumbledore stood up and announced, "I have an announcement that should relieve boredom in the two hours before curfew!"
Curious, everyone stopped talking and turned to listen to the Headmaster. A twinkle appeared in his eyes, and he told them, "I have decided that many of you do not have the proper education of the finer things in life. That is why I have invited seven professors to come to Hogwarts to teach various aspects of the Muggle Arts. One hour each day, you will be required to attend the class your year is assigned to. Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs have their class at seven, and Gryffindor and Slytherin have theirs at eight."
There were groans at this. More classes, and Muggle Arts at that? How boring! Well, that's what most of the students thought. A few students actually looked forward to this, and for once Draco Malfoy was one of them. No one knew it, but he was actually quite artistic when he felt like it.
Dumbledore continued, "Now, first years will take drawing and painting. Second years have sculpting. Third years have photography. Fourth, music composition and recital. Fifth, computer graphics. Sixth, jewelry making. And lastly, seventh years have poetry writing."
"Poetry?!" Ron burst out, looking outraged.
"It should be quite fun, Ron," his girlfriend said, putting a hand on his arm.
He looked at Hermione as if she were crazy. "Are you serious?"
Hearing what they were taking, Draco had been disappointed at first. All of the other classes had looked so much more fun, but then he got to thinking. Poetry didn't seem that bad, and it was a good way to express feelings. Maybe he could write a poem for Harry...
"Oh shut up, weasel. Poetry is a very beautiful type of expression, and Granger is not crazy," the blond interrupted.
Harry looked at his boyfriend in amazement. Draco Malfoy actually praising something like poetry? He knew the Slytherin had changed, but this...this was simply astonishing.
"You're a frickin' pansy, ferret-face!" Ron yelled, his face going red.
Draco crossed his arms across his protruding belly, looking affronted. "I may be homosexual, but I don't prefer to be called a pansy or any other derogatory name like that. And please refrain from using such profane language around my children."
The red-haired boy's eyes bulged out, and he shook a fist in the air. "Fairy-boy, using big words to try and intimidate me! I won't stand for it, you sniveling little ferret who looks like a beached whale!"
Everyone around them gasped. He did not just insult a pregnant person, especially a pregnant Draco Malfoy!
Before Draco could do anything to respond to this verbal attack, Harry shot out of his seat and yelled at his friend, "You shut it, you bloody idiot! Never insult Draco like that ever again! You have no goddamn right to treat him like this, especially when he's pregnant with MY children!"
Ron cowered away from the enraged teen, biting his lip. Looking ashamed, he muttered, "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me."
Draco simply glared at him, "You jerk." And he got up and walked away, heading towards the room he shared with his green-eyed boyfriend.
"Hey wait!" Harry's husky voice called out just as the blond was about to enter their room.
The heavily pregnant man looked up from where he'd been staring at the ground as he walked, and Harry could see the shimmer of tears in his eyes. Draco sniffed, and wrapped his arms around his belly protectively.
"You don't think I'm a beached whale, do you?" the Slytherin asked, his voice a thready sound full of suppressed tears.
Harry embraced the silvery-blue eyed teen in a hug and pressed his boyfriend's head against his shoulder. "No, I think you're gorgeous," he whispered softly.
The other boy sniffed, clutching his lover tightly. "You mean it?"
"Yes! You're not fat at all, just very rounded with our children."
Draco pulled back and said, "I am too fat. I'm huge!"
"No, you aren't. I think you look amazing, swelled with child like that. And you do know that Madame Pomfrey says that you're underweight for being pregnant. You still need to gain twenty pounds!"
"There is no way in hell I'm going to get fatter!"
Harry looked warningly at his boyfriend. "Draco, you want the babies to be healthy, don't you?"
The other teen shifted his glance back to the floor, biting his lip. "Yeah, I do. I just hate being so big and ungainly!"
"You look amazing, and there is nothing you can say to pursuade me of otherwise."
Draco looked up and managed a small grin. His lover did have a truthful gleam in his eyes, a gleam that spoke of things he wanted to do with him. Hmm...this had possibilities.
"Harry, do you think you could convince me of this?" he asked, his voice deeper than it had been moments before.
A lecherous grin split the brown haired boy's face, and The Boy Who Lived murmured, "Oh yes, I think I'd like to do that very much. Why don't we adjourn to our room, lover?"
Licking his lips, the blond replied, "After you, my love."
The rest of the evening was spent in perpetual bliss until they both collapsed in exhaustion and fell asleep, still tangled in each other's arms. They hadn't stopped making love, even thought they were much gentler than before. It seemed to Harry that his boyfriend just seemed to get more and more horny as the days went by, and he wasn't averse to obliging the handsome boy.
~-~-~-~-~-
The next day was the first day of the Muggle Arts classes, and the Slytherins and Gryffindors quietly gathered in the room Dumbledore had assigned them to this morning. It was a large, spacious room that seemed very comfortable. Gold and silver was the theme, a combination of two of the Slytherin and Gryffindor colors. Cushiony couches were in abundance, and various polished tables also littered the classroom.
This comfortable atmosphere put everyone at ease, but there was still some reluctance in many of the seventh years to actually be working on poetry. Minutes after everyone got situated, a stylish woman in her late twenties walked into the room. She carried a crystal orb with her and various writing supplies.
"Good evening, I am Dr. Amanda Trevali, and I will be teaching you the art of writing poetry for the next four weeks. First off, I want you all to split up into pairs. These partners will be your partners for the next four weeks, and you'll be completing a large project with them for the end of the class," she said in a melodious voice, setting her stuff down on one of the tables.
Draco and Harry immediately paired up, glad that they would be working together. Dr. Trevali's eyes landed on them, and her eyes lit up at seeing the blond's protruding stomach. "Oh! I didn't believe the rumors at first, but oh my, this is amazing! A male pregnancy and soulmates, my goodness!"
The two boys blushed, and Draco gripped his boyfriend's hand tightly. This attention was embarrassing!
Shaking her head to get back on track, the professor smiled and said, "All right, let's get started. This entire four weeks, we will be working on project which will be due at the end of the four weeks. To start off, I will use my Remoralis Sangent to produce a flashback to how you were feeling exactly one year ago. You will then write a poem about your feelings then, and another poem about how you feel at the present time. Your partner will help you with the composition of the poems, and you'll also write a short paper, three paragraphs, on what you learned during the process of doing this project."
Most of the students groaned, and both Harry and Draco had paled at the mention of remembering a year ago. They had both been severely depressed at that time, and definitely didn't want to relive those feelings again.
"Uh, Dr. Trevali? Do we have to remember a year ago? Can't we remember a different time?" Draco asked, his crystal-blue eyes looking shadowed.
She shook her head, her dark gold hair falling over her shoulders. "I'm afraid that isn't possible. I've set the Remoralis Sangent to a year ago, and it would take to much time and energy to switch for anyone. I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy."
A scowl had settled onto the Slytherin's face, and he slumped back against the cushions of the couch he and Harry were sitting on. An identical expression had settled onto his lover's face, and they both sat there glaring at the teacher. Damn this stupid class!
Dr. Trevali began calling out pairs to come up to the Remoralis Sangent, as both partners would be able to feel what the other was remembering so as to help them help each other with doing their projects.
Finally, Harry and Draco were called up and they reluctantly trudged up to the professor and her magicked orb. The crystal looked so clear and innocent, and yet both boys eyed it as if it were the most evil thing they'd ever encountered.
"Oh, do show some enthusiasm boys! It can't be as bad as that," Dr. Trevali said, a bright smile on her face.
They both glared, and Draco muttered a dispassionate, "Yippee."
Harry decided to go first, and stepped closer to the Remoralis Sangent. Dr. Trevali motioned for him to place a hand on the orb and to hold the hand of his partner with his free hand. He did as she asked, and felt an immediate jolt race through his system.
His eyes shut, and he was suddenly back to a year ago. It was eight- thirty on March 4, and he was sitting on his bed in the Gryffindor tower. He was alone, left to dwell on the depressing thoughts that caught him in their net whenever he had time to think about his life...
*Harry's flashback*
It hurts so much inside to know that no matter what I do, everyone always expects more. No matter what I do, it's never good enough for them. I have to do better. It's there in their eyes, the way they look at me and measure me. I'm the great Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. It doesn't matter what I do, it's just never good enough for them. When I almost died going against Voldemort last time, people simply berated the fact that I hadn't managed to defeat him yet. And had needed help, and gotten more people killed because of it. They all congratulated me and treated me like a hero again, but they hated me for the fact that I hadn't been able to finish him off. That I wasn't strong enough, GOOD enough to do it.
I can't help but want to curl up into a ball and cry forever. For six years I've sacrificed so much, done so goddamn much, for these people. I do it because it my duty, and because I knw I'm the only one who has a chance against Voldemort. I've given up so much for these people, and they don't care. For Merlin's sake, I've given up myself for these people! I've tried so hard, given everything I had, and it's never good enough. When will it be enough? Will it ever be enough? I feel so tired, so weary of the burdens placed on me. I sometimes wonder if I'll have to give up my soul so that people will finally be satisfied.
No one understands how hard it is to sacrifice yourself, all alone. Even when I have my friends with me, I'm alone. They don't know the burdens I carry. I know that I will never be left alone for the rest of my life. Everything will be under scrutiny, and they'll be measuring me to those goddamn expectations until I die. No one understands that I just want to be normal, that I want to live myself like everyone else. I don't want to be a hero! But no one cares what you want when what they want is at stake. It's all about the people, not the poor individual they expect to protect them. I can't do this anymore! It's killing me inside, destroying the real Harry Potter. Soon, I'll be nothing but a robot for these people to use...
*End Harry's Flashback*
With another jolt, Harry was back to the present, clutching his boyfriend's hand with all his might. His face was pale, and his emerald eyes were shadowed with pain.
Draco stared at The Boy Who Lived, his face frozen as Harry's memory reverberated in his mind. The pain he had gone through! The utter, raw pain! It was horrible, and Draco just wanted to cry, knowing his love had gone through so much all alone.
Dr. Trevali looked at the two boys with concern. She hadn't seen Harry's flashback, but judging by the looks on their faces, it hadn't been good. It made her sad whenever any of her students faced a bad memory, but it couldn't be helped. Hopefully, Mr. Malfoy's memory would be more pleasant.
The blond-haired teen did just as Harry had done only mintutes ago and waited for the horrible feelings to consume him again...feelings he'd hoped never to feel again.
*Draco's Flashback*
People think that being a Malfoy would be so wonderful. I mean, who doesn't want to be filthy rich, powerful, and drop-dead gorgeous? No one realizes the pressures of living up to the Malfoy name. My entire lie, I've had to think on how my actions reflect on my family. There was never a time when I could just be me. I was always Draco Malfoy, heir to the illustrious Malfoy fortune. I still am. And my father never lets me forget it. I am not a cherished son to him, I am only a vessel to carry on the bloodline and produce more Malfoys. Wait till he finds out I'll fail him in that, just like I fail him in so many other ways. He doesn't know that his precious heir is gay and he won't see any grandchildren. He'll probably put some horrible curse on me or something awful like that when he does find out. At least, he hasn't been averse to torturing me before, so it's not likely I've seen the last of the famous cruelty of Lucius Malfoy.
Sometimes, I hate him. I used to think I was all my fault that he beat me and hexed me, but after awhile I began to realize he liked doing it. I was his personal whipping boy since the time I could walk. The only courtesy he's ever shown me is that he hasn't left permanent marks on me. Let it not be said that Lucius Malfoy doesn't know every possible way to hurt people without leaving a trace of it. When I was little, I used to love him no matter how much he hurt me. That's what children do, they love their parents unconditionally until they finally grow up. I did grow up, younger than most people. By the time I was ten, I was jaded far beyond my years. I don't think I'll ever trust someone again. Never love someone again. It's just not worth it if all you do is get hurt over and over again.
But the thing that just kill me inside is the fact that my father didn't used to be like this. Mother has told me tales of him when they were first married, before Voldemort rose into power. He used to be a pretty nice guy, if you excused the sometimes-explosive temper. She's told me so many stories of how good he used to be, and I've seen proof. Pictures from before Voldemort rose show the happiness they had, and a twinkle to my father's eyes. Damn Voldemort for everything he's done! And damn my father for becoming a Death Eater! All I ever wanted was a father who gave a shit about me, who didn't lie and hurt me. But deep inside I know that this was always a futile wish, the wistful dreaming of a lonely boy.
The only thing that keeps me going now is the fact that I know Father won't be there when I go back home this summer. I feel it inside of me that the final battle between Voldemort and the Death Eaters, and Harry and the Ministry will happen soon. Father will either be killed or sent to Azkaban, and I'll be free. At least I hope so...
*End Draco's Flashback*
The professor frowned at the even deeper look of pain on the boys' faces, and instantly knew that this had been another bad flashback. It puzzled and saddened her that two such great boys would've have felt such pain. They had everything, and yet it seemed to her that sometimes everything isn't really everything.
Draco's lower lip was trembling as he was dropped back into the present, his baby-blue eyes filling with tears. How bleak everything had been a year ago!
His lover pulled him into a hug, whispering, "Oh, I never knew! The pain...ohmigod, the pain you went through! I'm so sorry I was so mean to you. I love you!"
With a tear-choked voice, the blond rasped out, "And I never knew what you went through! I thought you had everything and life was perfect! I never imagined what you went through! I love you so much!"
Harry felt tear shimmering in his own eyes, and he carefully manuevered himself and the father of his children back to their couch. His friends were looking at them both with concern shining in their eyes, and he bit his lip to keep the tears from falling. Damn it, he didn't want to have to explain his dark thoughts or any of what he'd went through! No one needed to know the secret pain he'd gone through! And no one needed to know what Draco had gone through either.
"What was yo-" Hermione started to ask, when Harry vehemently cut her off.
"You don't need to know, so leave the subject alone."
She looked hurt, but Harry refused to feel bad. It was no one's business to know his or Draco's dark feelings. It was their secret, and the only glimpse anyone would get of the truth would be in their poems.
The rest of the class went on without any more flashbacks like Harry or Draco's, most people's memories just being ordinary thoughts that would probably be hard to put into poetry. It wouldn't be easy to write about worrying about a test or doing their homework.
Of course, Neville's poem would probably be quite interesting. His flashback had been about wishing Snape would die. And if that wasn't a great topic, then nobody knew what was. Everyone also knew that his partner, Dean, would have lots of ideas to give him about what to write. Oh yes...everybody could just see the possiblities.
All the seventh year Gryffindors and Slytherins went to sleep that night with thoughts of their Muggle Arts class swirling about in their minds. Some were happy thoughts, some were bad, and some were just plain disgusted about being forced to write *gag* POETRY.
Harry and Draco had trouble falling asleep, their minds occupied with remembering their dark thoughts from a year ago. Oh how they wished they could just erase it all. They didn't need the intrusion of this pain in their lives when everything was going so well! Stupid Dr. Trevali...
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Hiya, me again! I'm sorry it took so long to get Chapter Ten up, but I had serious writers' block and it took a while to get the creative juices flowing. It took me two hours of straight writing to get this chapter done! Anyway, I know there wasn't a whole lot of Harry/Draco in this chapter. But I promise I will include lots of HD in the next chapter! Oh yeah, and I will focus a little more on the pregnancy. I mean, there's only two months until birth time...*grins evilly*
Anyway, I want your opinion. I already have the poems for Draco and Harry written (their originals of mine I adapted a teeny bit to fit them), but I was wondering if I should write a poem for Neville. It would be interesting, but I'm undecided. You tell me if I should, okay?
Oh, and thank you so much to everyone who's reviewed my story! I didn't think I'd get so many reviews, and I'm so happy people like my story. It's my first serious MPREG, and my first BIG Harry/Draco fic. Keep up the reviews, and tell me how I'm doing! Luv ya guys! See ya...and I promise the next chapter will be up really soon!
Author's Note: I will try to stick to each character's personality as much as possible, but forgive me if anyone seems a bit OOC at times. Thanks! Oh yeah, and no flames please!
Diclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and neither am I making money for writing this pathetic attempt of a fanfic. Harry Potter and all the other characters belong to JK Rowling.
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Yet another boring month passed, with Madame Pomfrey giving Draco another clean bill of health. And it was official, he carried twins. But not only twins...a girl and a boy who appeared to be potential great wizards. That was to be expected though, Draco and Harry were both very powerful. Why wouldn't their children be the same?
One particularly boring evening, most of the students were gathered in the Great Hall, lingering over supper. They had two hours till curfew, and didn't particularly feel like moving. Boredom was a common malady among them, and the cases of laziness had soared in the past few days.
Suddenly, Dumbledore stood up and announced, "I have an announcement that should relieve boredom in the two hours before curfew!"
Curious, everyone stopped talking and turned to listen to the Headmaster. A twinkle appeared in his eyes, and he told them, "I have decided that many of you do not have the proper education of the finer things in life. That is why I have invited seven professors to come to Hogwarts to teach various aspects of the Muggle Arts. One hour each day, you will be required to attend the class your year is assigned to. Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs have their class at seven, and Gryffindor and Slytherin have theirs at eight."
There were groans at this. More classes, and Muggle Arts at that? How boring! Well, that's what most of the students thought. A few students actually looked forward to this, and for once Draco Malfoy was one of them. No one knew it, but he was actually quite artistic when he felt like it.
Dumbledore continued, "Now, first years will take drawing and painting. Second years have sculpting. Third years have photography. Fourth, music composition and recital. Fifth, computer graphics. Sixth, jewelry making. And lastly, seventh years have poetry writing."
"Poetry?!" Ron burst out, looking outraged.
"It should be quite fun, Ron," his girlfriend said, putting a hand on his arm.
He looked at Hermione as if she were crazy. "Are you serious?"
Hearing what they were taking, Draco had been disappointed at first. All of the other classes had looked so much more fun, but then he got to thinking. Poetry didn't seem that bad, and it was a good way to express feelings. Maybe he could write a poem for Harry...
"Oh shut up, weasel. Poetry is a very beautiful type of expression, and Granger is not crazy," the blond interrupted.
Harry looked at his boyfriend in amazement. Draco Malfoy actually praising something like poetry? He knew the Slytherin had changed, but this...this was simply astonishing.
"You're a frickin' pansy, ferret-face!" Ron yelled, his face going red.
Draco crossed his arms across his protruding belly, looking affronted. "I may be homosexual, but I don't prefer to be called a pansy or any other derogatory name like that. And please refrain from using such profane language around my children."
The red-haired boy's eyes bulged out, and he shook a fist in the air. "Fairy-boy, using big words to try and intimidate me! I won't stand for it, you sniveling little ferret who looks like a beached whale!"
Everyone around them gasped. He did not just insult a pregnant person, especially a pregnant Draco Malfoy!
Before Draco could do anything to respond to this verbal attack, Harry shot out of his seat and yelled at his friend, "You shut it, you bloody idiot! Never insult Draco like that ever again! You have no goddamn right to treat him like this, especially when he's pregnant with MY children!"
Ron cowered away from the enraged teen, biting his lip. Looking ashamed, he muttered, "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me."
Draco simply glared at him, "You jerk." And he got up and walked away, heading towards the room he shared with his green-eyed boyfriend.
"Hey wait!" Harry's husky voice called out just as the blond was about to enter their room.
The heavily pregnant man looked up from where he'd been staring at the ground as he walked, and Harry could see the shimmer of tears in his eyes. Draco sniffed, and wrapped his arms around his belly protectively.
"You don't think I'm a beached whale, do you?" the Slytherin asked, his voice a thready sound full of suppressed tears.
Harry embraced the silvery-blue eyed teen in a hug and pressed his boyfriend's head against his shoulder. "No, I think you're gorgeous," he whispered softly.
The other boy sniffed, clutching his lover tightly. "You mean it?"
"Yes! You're not fat at all, just very rounded with our children."
Draco pulled back and said, "I am too fat. I'm huge!"
"No, you aren't. I think you look amazing, swelled with child like that. And you do know that Madame Pomfrey says that you're underweight for being pregnant. You still need to gain twenty pounds!"
"There is no way in hell I'm going to get fatter!"
Harry looked warningly at his boyfriend. "Draco, you want the babies to be healthy, don't you?"
The other teen shifted his glance back to the floor, biting his lip. "Yeah, I do. I just hate being so big and ungainly!"
"You look amazing, and there is nothing you can say to pursuade me of otherwise."
Draco looked up and managed a small grin. His lover did have a truthful gleam in his eyes, a gleam that spoke of things he wanted to do with him. Hmm...this had possibilities.
"Harry, do you think you could convince me of this?" he asked, his voice deeper than it had been moments before.
A lecherous grin split the brown haired boy's face, and The Boy Who Lived murmured, "Oh yes, I think I'd like to do that very much. Why don't we adjourn to our room, lover?"
Licking his lips, the blond replied, "After you, my love."
The rest of the evening was spent in perpetual bliss until they both collapsed in exhaustion and fell asleep, still tangled in each other's arms. They hadn't stopped making love, even thought they were much gentler than before. It seemed to Harry that his boyfriend just seemed to get more and more horny as the days went by, and he wasn't averse to obliging the handsome boy.
~-~-~-~-~-
The next day was the first day of the Muggle Arts classes, and the Slytherins and Gryffindors quietly gathered in the room Dumbledore had assigned them to this morning. It was a large, spacious room that seemed very comfortable. Gold and silver was the theme, a combination of two of the Slytherin and Gryffindor colors. Cushiony couches were in abundance, and various polished tables also littered the classroom.
This comfortable atmosphere put everyone at ease, but there was still some reluctance in many of the seventh years to actually be working on poetry. Minutes after everyone got situated, a stylish woman in her late twenties walked into the room. She carried a crystal orb with her and various writing supplies.
"Good evening, I am Dr. Amanda Trevali, and I will be teaching you the art of writing poetry for the next four weeks. First off, I want you all to split up into pairs. These partners will be your partners for the next four weeks, and you'll be completing a large project with them for the end of the class," she said in a melodious voice, setting her stuff down on one of the tables.
Draco and Harry immediately paired up, glad that they would be working together. Dr. Trevali's eyes landed on them, and her eyes lit up at seeing the blond's protruding stomach. "Oh! I didn't believe the rumors at first, but oh my, this is amazing! A male pregnancy and soulmates, my goodness!"
The two boys blushed, and Draco gripped his boyfriend's hand tightly. This attention was embarrassing!
Shaking her head to get back on track, the professor smiled and said, "All right, let's get started. This entire four weeks, we will be working on project which will be due at the end of the four weeks. To start off, I will use my Remoralis Sangent to produce a flashback to how you were feeling exactly one year ago. You will then write a poem about your feelings then, and another poem about how you feel at the present time. Your partner will help you with the composition of the poems, and you'll also write a short paper, three paragraphs, on what you learned during the process of doing this project."
Most of the students groaned, and both Harry and Draco had paled at the mention of remembering a year ago. They had both been severely depressed at that time, and definitely didn't want to relive those feelings again.
"Uh, Dr. Trevali? Do we have to remember a year ago? Can't we remember a different time?" Draco asked, his crystal-blue eyes looking shadowed.
She shook her head, her dark gold hair falling over her shoulders. "I'm afraid that isn't possible. I've set the Remoralis Sangent to a year ago, and it would take to much time and energy to switch for anyone. I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy."
A scowl had settled onto the Slytherin's face, and he slumped back against the cushions of the couch he and Harry were sitting on. An identical expression had settled onto his lover's face, and they both sat there glaring at the teacher. Damn this stupid class!
Dr. Trevali began calling out pairs to come up to the Remoralis Sangent, as both partners would be able to feel what the other was remembering so as to help them help each other with doing their projects.
Finally, Harry and Draco were called up and they reluctantly trudged up to the professor and her magicked orb. The crystal looked so clear and innocent, and yet both boys eyed it as if it were the most evil thing they'd ever encountered.
"Oh, do show some enthusiasm boys! It can't be as bad as that," Dr. Trevali said, a bright smile on her face.
They both glared, and Draco muttered a dispassionate, "Yippee."
Harry decided to go first, and stepped closer to the Remoralis Sangent. Dr. Trevali motioned for him to place a hand on the orb and to hold the hand of his partner with his free hand. He did as she asked, and felt an immediate jolt race through his system.
His eyes shut, and he was suddenly back to a year ago. It was eight- thirty on March 4, and he was sitting on his bed in the Gryffindor tower. He was alone, left to dwell on the depressing thoughts that caught him in their net whenever he had time to think about his life...
*Harry's flashback*
It hurts so much inside to know that no matter what I do, everyone always expects more. No matter what I do, it's never good enough for them. I have to do better. It's there in their eyes, the way they look at me and measure me. I'm the great Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. It doesn't matter what I do, it's just never good enough for them. When I almost died going against Voldemort last time, people simply berated the fact that I hadn't managed to defeat him yet. And had needed help, and gotten more people killed because of it. They all congratulated me and treated me like a hero again, but they hated me for the fact that I hadn't been able to finish him off. That I wasn't strong enough, GOOD enough to do it.
I can't help but want to curl up into a ball and cry forever. For six years I've sacrificed so much, done so goddamn much, for these people. I do it because it my duty, and because I knw I'm the only one who has a chance against Voldemort. I've given up so much for these people, and they don't care. For Merlin's sake, I've given up myself for these people! I've tried so hard, given everything I had, and it's never good enough. When will it be enough? Will it ever be enough? I feel so tired, so weary of the burdens placed on me. I sometimes wonder if I'll have to give up my soul so that people will finally be satisfied.
No one understands how hard it is to sacrifice yourself, all alone. Even when I have my friends with me, I'm alone. They don't know the burdens I carry. I know that I will never be left alone for the rest of my life. Everything will be under scrutiny, and they'll be measuring me to those goddamn expectations until I die. No one understands that I just want to be normal, that I want to live myself like everyone else. I don't want to be a hero! But no one cares what you want when what they want is at stake. It's all about the people, not the poor individual they expect to protect them. I can't do this anymore! It's killing me inside, destroying the real Harry Potter. Soon, I'll be nothing but a robot for these people to use...
*End Harry's Flashback*
With another jolt, Harry was back to the present, clutching his boyfriend's hand with all his might. His face was pale, and his emerald eyes were shadowed with pain.
Draco stared at The Boy Who Lived, his face frozen as Harry's memory reverberated in his mind. The pain he had gone through! The utter, raw pain! It was horrible, and Draco just wanted to cry, knowing his love had gone through so much all alone.
Dr. Trevali looked at the two boys with concern. She hadn't seen Harry's flashback, but judging by the looks on their faces, it hadn't been good. It made her sad whenever any of her students faced a bad memory, but it couldn't be helped. Hopefully, Mr. Malfoy's memory would be more pleasant.
The blond-haired teen did just as Harry had done only mintutes ago and waited for the horrible feelings to consume him again...feelings he'd hoped never to feel again.
*Draco's Flashback*
People think that being a Malfoy would be so wonderful. I mean, who doesn't want to be filthy rich, powerful, and drop-dead gorgeous? No one realizes the pressures of living up to the Malfoy name. My entire lie, I've had to think on how my actions reflect on my family. There was never a time when I could just be me. I was always Draco Malfoy, heir to the illustrious Malfoy fortune. I still am. And my father never lets me forget it. I am not a cherished son to him, I am only a vessel to carry on the bloodline and produce more Malfoys. Wait till he finds out I'll fail him in that, just like I fail him in so many other ways. He doesn't know that his precious heir is gay and he won't see any grandchildren. He'll probably put some horrible curse on me or something awful like that when he does find out. At least, he hasn't been averse to torturing me before, so it's not likely I've seen the last of the famous cruelty of Lucius Malfoy.
Sometimes, I hate him. I used to think I was all my fault that he beat me and hexed me, but after awhile I began to realize he liked doing it. I was his personal whipping boy since the time I could walk. The only courtesy he's ever shown me is that he hasn't left permanent marks on me. Let it not be said that Lucius Malfoy doesn't know every possible way to hurt people without leaving a trace of it. When I was little, I used to love him no matter how much he hurt me. That's what children do, they love their parents unconditionally until they finally grow up. I did grow up, younger than most people. By the time I was ten, I was jaded far beyond my years. I don't think I'll ever trust someone again. Never love someone again. It's just not worth it if all you do is get hurt over and over again.
But the thing that just kill me inside is the fact that my father didn't used to be like this. Mother has told me tales of him when they were first married, before Voldemort rose into power. He used to be a pretty nice guy, if you excused the sometimes-explosive temper. She's told me so many stories of how good he used to be, and I've seen proof. Pictures from before Voldemort rose show the happiness they had, and a twinkle to my father's eyes. Damn Voldemort for everything he's done! And damn my father for becoming a Death Eater! All I ever wanted was a father who gave a shit about me, who didn't lie and hurt me. But deep inside I know that this was always a futile wish, the wistful dreaming of a lonely boy.
The only thing that keeps me going now is the fact that I know Father won't be there when I go back home this summer. I feel it inside of me that the final battle between Voldemort and the Death Eaters, and Harry and the Ministry will happen soon. Father will either be killed or sent to Azkaban, and I'll be free. At least I hope so...
*End Draco's Flashback*
The professor frowned at the even deeper look of pain on the boys' faces, and instantly knew that this had been another bad flashback. It puzzled and saddened her that two such great boys would've have felt such pain. They had everything, and yet it seemed to her that sometimes everything isn't really everything.
Draco's lower lip was trembling as he was dropped back into the present, his baby-blue eyes filling with tears. How bleak everything had been a year ago!
His lover pulled him into a hug, whispering, "Oh, I never knew! The pain...ohmigod, the pain you went through! I'm so sorry I was so mean to you. I love you!"
With a tear-choked voice, the blond rasped out, "And I never knew what you went through! I thought you had everything and life was perfect! I never imagined what you went through! I love you so much!"
Harry felt tear shimmering in his own eyes, and he carefully manuevered himself and the father of his children back to their couch. His friends were looking at them both with concern shining in their eyes, and he bit his lip to keep the tears from falling. Damn it, he didn't want to have to explain his dark thoughts or any of what he'd went through! No one needed to know the secret pain he'd gone through! And no one needed to know what Draco had gone through either.
"What was yo-" Hermione started to ask, when Harry vehemently cut her off.
"You don't need to know, so leave the subject alone."
She looked hurt, but Harry refused to feel bad. It was no one's business to know his or Draco's dark feelings. It was their secret, and the only glimpse anyone would get of the truth would be in their poems.
The rest of the class went on without any more flashbacks like Harry or Draco's, most people's memories just being ordinary thoughts that would probably be hard to put into poetry. It wouldn't be easy to write about worrying about a test or doing their homework.
Of course, Neville's poem would probably be quite interesting. His flashback had been about wishing Snape would die. And if that wasn't a great topic, then nobody knew what was. Everyone also knew that his partner, Dean, would have lots of ideas to give him about what to write. Oh yes...everybody could just see the possiblities.
All the seventh year Gryffindors and Slytherins went to sleep that night with thoughts of their Muggle Arts class swirling about in their minds. Some were happy thoughts, some were bad, and some were just plain disgusted about being forced to write *gag* POETRY.
Harry and Draco had trouble falling asleep, their minds occupied with remembering their dark thoughts from a year ago. Oh how they wished they could just erase it all. They didn't need the intrusion of this pain in their lives when everything was going so well! Stupid Dr. Trevali...
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Hiya, me again! I'm sorry it took so long to get Chapter Ten up, but I had serious writers' block and it took a while to get the creative juices flowing. It took me two hours of straight writing to get this chapter done! Anyway, I know there wasn't a whole lot of Harry/Draco in this chapter. But I promise I will include lots of HD in the next chapter! Oh yeah, and I will focus a little more on the pregnancy. I mean, there's only two months until birth time...*grins evilly*
Anyway, I want your opinion. I already have the poems for Draco and Harry written (their originals of mine I adapted a teeny bit to fit them), but I was wondering if I should write a poem for Neville. It would be interesting, but I'm undecided. You tell me if I should, okay?
Oh, and thank you so much to everyone who's reviewed my story! I didn't think I'd get so many reviews, and I'm so happy people like my story. It's my first serious MPREG, and my first BIG Harry/Draco fic. Keep up the reviews, and tell me how I'm doing! Luv ya guys! See ya...and I promise the next chapter will be up really soon!
