Chapter 2
March had finally arrived, spring on its way, but the month was only six hours in before young Mr. Malfoy-Potter awoke wide-eyed, and excited, exited his bed, made his way down the hall and pushed open the heavy door to his parent's master bedroom. Sneakily, he tip-toed over to the silk clad bed, his tiny hands covering his mouth to cover the sound of his breath. He couldn't contain his small giggle as he climbed onto the bed and took in the sight of his daddy Draco, sprawled spread-eagle on the bed, his mouth hung open, light snoring sounds emitting from his throat. Evan turned his tousled head and glanced at his daddy Harry, cuddled close to his other daddy, an arm wrapped around the blonde's torso, a slight grimace crossing his face. After a few silent seconds, Evan began to jump up and down on the bed. "Wake up! It's my birfday!"
Draco stirred, and stretched as his body bounced lightly on the bed. Blindly, he reached out to grab his son's leg but missed. "What is it, Evan?" he mumbled as Harry snuggled closer and frowned against the skin of his arm.
"It's my birfday!" the boy protested, jumping harder, waving his arms around, this time without his wand.
"So it is," Draco stated as he opened his azure eyes, smiling upwards at his son. "How old are you today? I can't remember?" Playfully, he scratched his head as if he were thinking.
"Daddy!" Evan whined, waving his right arm around and frowned as he realized he was without his weapon. "I'm six!"
The blonde sat up, Harry withdrawing from his warmth and curling in a ball on the opposite side of the bed. Reaching out, Draco grabbed Evan from the waist and pulled him down into his lap. "Yes you are." As his son snuggled into his arms, Draco attempted to smooth the wild raven hair. "You need a bath before your friends can come over though."
"I can do that!" the boy exclaimed as he struggled to escape the firm grip his father had on his waist. Pouting lightly, he turned to look up at his father. "If you don't let me go, I can't go take a baf!" Suddenly, he was released and excitedly, he crawled over to Harry, who had uncurled but still laid on the bed, eyes squeezed shut. He bent down and placed a tiny kiss on his daddy's cheek. Harry barely responded. Sadly, Evan turned to Draco. "I think daddy is sick," he mumbled.
Draco leaned over and placed the back of his hand to his husband's forehead. Surprisingly, it wasn't hot, just lightly flushed. With a kiss to his son's cheek, he picked him up and placed him on the floor. "How about that bath?"
"Okay," Evan agreed and ran from the room. It wasn't a minute before the sound of running water could be heard.
Carefully, Draco leaned back over and closer to Harry, his hand softly caressing the flushed cheeks. "What's wrong, love?" he spoke quietly.
"My stomach is turning in ways I've never felt before," he mumbled hoarsely, those words being the first of the morning. He nuzzled the hand against his face for a moment before he suddenly felt the urge to vomit and darted from the bed to rid his stomach of its contents.
Nervously, Draco rubbed his hands together as he scanned the living room and dining room, searching for anything out of place that would hinder the guests. The door bell rang as he smoothed out his grey slacks and tight fitting black t-shirt and answered the door, his face beaming as he recognized the firsts guests.
"Draco, darling! How are you, baby?" Narcissa Snape jumped forward and wrapped her long arms around her son, holding him close against her bosom.
"Grandma!" Evan bolted into the room and towards the front door, his raven hair still moist and untamed, well, more than usual, his tiny black cloak billowing behind him.
Snape barely squeezed through the reuniting relatives and settled into the plush navy couch of the living room. He smiled lightly as his wife sat down beside him, his supposed grandson resting on her lap as the boy rolled off all the items he was hoping to receive for his birthday.
Draco hardly escaped the front door as further guests arrived including: Sirius and Remus, Minerva McGonagall, Madam Pomfrey, his old school chums Pansy and Gregory Goyle with their four-year-old son, George, Ginny and Neville Longbottom with their clumsy three-year-old daughter Natalie, the rest of the Weasley family with Ron, Hermione and Rose, Evan's favorite friend.
Finally, Draco closed the door for the last time and sashayed into the living room to discover the party coming along well. He made his way through the chattering groups with only several hello's and settled into a spot beside the refreshments table he set up. Rolling his eyes, he found himself smiling and greeting the weasel.
"What a nice party, Draco." Ron calmly imputed as he poured himself a glass of fruit punch. Unfortunately for Draco, he continued to stand next to his best friend's husband. "Where's Harry?"
Frowning, Draco glanced around hoping to see him but failed. "He woke up ill this morning."
Ron frowned also. "I'm sorry to hear that. I'll sneak upstairs later to visit him."
"Yeah, do that," he mumbled as he noticed his son sitting exceptionally close to the weasel's red-headed daughter on the black leather loveseat.
Noticing Draco's glare, Ron turned to see the object of Draco's menacing stare and began chuckling. "Isn't that cute? Soon, we'll be planning their wedding."
"Present time!" Draco announced, revealing the dining room with a theatrical opening of its double cedar doors. Inside, a mountain of brightly wrapped gifts were waiting on the table for their pretty wrapping to be ripped to shreds and left on the floor.
Evan jumped from his seat beside his girl, grabbed her tiny hand and dragged her along with him into the room. His bright blue eyes went wide as he took in the sight of the many gifts.
The blonde kneeled beside his son. "You can go ahead and open them."
The boy looked around eagerly, squinting and peaking in between people's legs. "But daddy isn't here," he spoke softly and lowered his head.
Draco reached toward his son's head and lifted it with a finger under his chin. "He wouldn't want to ruin your birthday by not being down here if he could help it. He's sick. Be happy for him and open your presents." He searched his son's eyes for an answer and finally got one as Evan smiled and practically leaped into the chair awaiting him.
Gift after gift was opened and the paper was strewn on the floor, which later became the reason for Snape's great fall onto the hardwood floor causing the Potions master's bottom to bruise. Evan held up his latest present and eyed it oddly, turning it around to see if it could do anything. Unfortunately, it didn't and the gift was thrown to the ground.
"Figures," Draco mentioned after recovering it, "Hermione bought him a book." Several people sniggered as Hermione jumped in to defend herself.
"I thought a young powerful wizard should start learning early." She proudly pushed her bushy hair off her shoulders.
Draco chuckled. "You sound like Harry, who bought him a wand last year!"
"Speaking of learning," Narcissa spoke up, "I heard my grandson just minutes ago say that he was going to hex that young boy over there munching on the cookies." She pointed to Goyle's son sitting on the floor beside the refreshment table with a plate of oatmeal cookies. "Now, where did he learn that horrible language?"
Everyone began to shrug their shoulders as Ron nervously shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
"Wow!" Evan exclaimed, causing everyone to turn towards the birthday boy again. "Daddy Harry got me a broom!"
Draco rest his face in his hands as his son climbed atop the tiny version of the latest Firebolt and took off throughout the downstairs rooms, screaming madly as he did so.
After the death of several family vases, the ripping of the portrait of Great Great Great Grandfather Malfoy by Evan gripping it as he zoomed by, and the mad dash of every guest to the floor, Evan was recovered, sitting on the floor of the living room after crashing into the fireplace. Tears of pain and shame slipped down his cheeks as his Daddy Draco stormed into the room to grasp the broomstick and toss it aside. As he prepared for a good spanking to his bottom, he was surprised to see his daddy stooping down to his level, looking back at him with tears of his own.
"Are you okay, Evan?" Draco immediately began searching his child for broken bones and found none as Evan barely made eye contact with him and nodded his head shamefully. "Oh, Evan. Come here." He held out his arms and Evan moved into them. As soon as his son was in his arms, he caught Madam Pomfrey's worried gaze and nodded. She followed father and son into the nearest bathroom.
Evan was set down gently on the marbled counter and he locked azure gazes with his father as he nibbled his lip lightly.
"Poppy will fix any booboos you have, okay. I'll see you in a bit." With a peck upon his son's forehead, he swiftly exited the bathroom and assured the guests he would be fine. "Continue to enjoy yourselves." He waved a hand around aristocratically as he ascended the stairs.
Taking a deep breath, Draco knocked briefly and stepped into the bedroom before an answer could be spoken. He took in the image of his raven haired husband lounging on the bed, his glasses on the bedside table, aside a glass of water and his wand especially made for medical reasons. "How are you feeling, love?" He slipped the door closed behind him.
Harry turned his head towards the sound of Draco's voice and the door, and opened his emerald eyes slowly, as if he was awaking from a peaceful nap. "My body isn't attempting to vomit anymore." He languidly rubbed a hand over his faded black t-shirt clad stomach as Draco climbed on the bed and lay beside him, supporting his head in his left hand.
"Our son enjoyed his gift. Broke it in already. Poppy is fixing any bruises he may have."
The ex-Gryffindor winced. "I'm sorry I never told you I was getting him that."
"It's alright, Harry. Do you feel nauseous any?" Draco lightly ran his free hand over Harry's bare arm.
"A little." He closed his eyes to a sudden brightness of sun shining into the room. "But, something doesn't feel right."
Draco's eyebrow perked and the soothing movement of his hand paused as his mind raced. Suddenly, he sat up and jumped off the bed, startling his relaxing husband.
"What is it?" Harry questioned, worried as he ran a hand through his incredibly tousled hair.
"I need to talk to someone." Draco briskly made his way to the door and opened it wide. "I'll be back." With that statement, he shut the door behind him, leaving Harry to collapse back upon the bed to slip off into another nap.
As he rapidly descended the stairs, Draco spotted Snape off in the far corner with Harry's Godfather and boyfriend, Ex-Professor Lupin. He approached them as subtle as he could be but his insides were bursting with anticipation and hope. "Severus? I need a word with you," he spoke sternly.
"Well, ask away, boy." Snape took a sip of the fruit punch from the glass he held in his cold, pale hand.
"It's about the potion you sent us on Valentine's Day." He could feel his face flushing with excitement.
Snape cleared his throat and steadied his gaze on Draco. "You see, what happened is that..."
"He never told you?" Remus interrupted. He felt Sirius's hand grasp his arm in an effort to quiet him, but he continued anyway. "We had the most fantastic sex ever that night! And that's not what we asked for even though it was rather passionate and..."
"That's enough," Sirius spoke gruffly as he gripped Remus's arm tighter. "No need to blab our private lives."
"But that means that one of them is..."
"Remus!" Snape exclaimed, loud enough to disturb the guests that were near.
Draco looked back and forth from his old Professor to the infamous animagus couple. "One of us is what?" Nervously, he ran a hand through his gelled hair and internally cursed at the action. "Because I have a notion that Harry may be pregnant! Please, tell me if I'm correct!"
"Oh my Merlin!" Remus shouted excitedly as he began to jump in place. "It's Harry!"
Sirius slapped his forehead. "No wonder he isn't down here celebrating his son's birthday. Morning sickness!"
Snape did nothing but shift uncomfortably and clear his throat. "I can't believe it is Harry."
"Harry is what?"
Suddenly, Harry appeared behind the conversing four, his body properly attired in black slacks and a forest green button up shirt. His skin tone was paler than usual, but his energy had seemed to return as the afternoon wore on.
Remus leaped forward to wrap his arms around the boy. "Congratulations on being pregnant, Harry."
"I'm what?" he choked.