Author's notes: I'm sorry for the delay! Was caught up with celebrating Chinese New Year… and sorry again for this crappy chapter. The words just wouldn't flow.


Reviews:

Thanks to SaintEmo, Mz Psycho, Anny Pervert Snape, Yana5, Starrarose, Lady Angelique of Mystiqu, Layce74, AllForMallory, smoothNcreamy, Sarahamanda, Sarah, Princesspepper and Shola


"Draco, come, I made you some hot tea," Harry announced into their bathroom. He squatted down and hugged Draco the husband, who was then hugging the toilet bowl and emptying this stomach.

"This morning sickness thing… -puke- is getting on my nerves…" Draco managed to mutter between pukes, his stomach convulsing every few seconds in an attempt to hold the quidditch world cup.

"Poor you," Harry cooed as he stroked Draco's back, hoping that would make him better. Wiping his mouth clean, Draco stood up slowly, lest he got giddy again.

"You're not the one puking your guts out every morning, are you?" spat the veela, throwing Harry a dirty look. Plodding back to the bed, Draco collapsed on it and let out a loud sigh. Two months pregnant, Draco was already showing like a four-month-pregnant woman would- a noticeable bump on his stomach.

"Harry, am I fat?" Draco asked. It was a daily routine- the sudden realization of his less than favourable size in the morning and grilling Harry about.

"No, dear," replied Harry as he came over to the bed with the tea.

"You're just saying it," grouched the veela as he sipped the tea. "What shall we do today? I won't want to sleep in on a Saturday, you know."

"And you're sick of Hogsmeade," added Harry.

"Right," drawled Draco, sensing Harry's sarcasm. "Maybe we can…" Draco's thoughts ran wild thinking the things they could do, a smirk coming on his face.

"Draco, you know we can't apparate because we haven't got a licence, besides, we won't want you spliced, and we cannot leave via a portkey because you're pregnant, and you detest floo-ing because it messes up your hair. I won't want you fly on a broom, so the only way we can get anywhere is to walk," explained Harry. It was a wonder how he could almost read Draco's mind; the playful smirk must have given it away.

"Well, we could ride a thestral," retorted Draco, who was unknowingly stroking his belly.

"And I presume you have somewhere in mind that you want to go?" Harry questioned.

"Let's go to Diagon Alley," chirped Draco, jumping out of the bed. "Give me a minute to shower and we can go ask the giant about those invisible horses."

"Are you sure it's not too dangerous for you to ride?" Harry flopped down on the bed, intending to catch a wink while Draco changed. After all, one minute and one hour meant the same thing to Draco.

"I've been riding horses since I was five, Harry James Potter. What more a sullen dead horse?" The muffled reply came through the bathroom door, the noise of the shower almost muting the answer.

"All right," grunted Harry as he closed his eyes to catch a nap. He was drifting into sleep when he was rudely awoken by pieces of garments strewn all over him.

"This doesn't fit," Draco whined and threw a silk shirt over Harry on the bed. Disregarding the husband who was buried under his clothes, Draco continued to empty his wardrobe, looking for a suitable outfit.

"Draco? What's going on?" Harry asked, sweeping the clothes to one side.

"Nothing fits me anymore!" sulked the veela, shoving a handful of T-shirts in Harry's chest- the T-shirts Harry bought Draco, T-shirts that were printed with embarrassing love-professing messages.

"Well, what's wrong with these?" Harry questioned, holding up a blue one that said, "You're my honey bunny" and a bad caricature of a rabbit covered in honey. Every few moments a hive of bees would attack the bunny, resulting in it shrieking and rolling around.

"What's wrong? You're asking me what's wrong? These shirts are disgustingly mushy!" Draco exclaimed.

"Well, you could wear them first and we'll go shopping at Diagon Alley…" replied Harry as he wondered, in his mind, why he had gotten these shirts in the first place.

"And let everyone at Diagon Alley see a Malfoy in a shirt that shouts 'I want to be Harry Potter's Firebolt'?" Draco yelled, holding up an oversized T-shirt that held a photograph of Harry riding on his broomstick during a quidditch match.

"Hey! I didn't buy that one!" The Gryffindor denied. "That came as a sample from Creevey!"

"Oh! You gave ME something your ruddy fan club gave YOU?" Draco yelled and stood akimbo, facing Harry. He slit his eyes slyly, seemingly waiting for a more than pathetic excuse from Harry.

"No, you took it from me the moment he passed it to me. And remember that night you were wearing nothing but it and kept screaming 'Harry, ride me' while we were having hot sex?" Replied Harry proudly; for once he could possibly win an argument.

"Right…" agreed Draco meekly as he remembered that wild night. How he had conned Harry into coming to visit him, and how he had arranged a striptease for the Gryffindor, where he stripped to nothing but the T-shirt.

"Well?" Harry pressed, smirking.

"Fine, you win. But I still won't wear these shirts," replied Draco defiantly. "Give me your shirt. You can wear these pathetic T-shirts if you want to."

"Hey!" Harry exclaimed. Before he had a chance to refuse, the veela was already peeling off the green T-shirt from Harry's body. Hastily putting on Harry's shirt, the veela stuck out his tongue at Harry playfully.

"Fine," spat Harry as he tried to find a fitting shirt amongst the pile Draco had rejected. After all, he was not pregnant and could fit into the veela's clothes.

"Stop prancing around naked," complained Draco as he goggled at Harry's bare torso.

"Really?" teased Harry as he bent over slowly to pick up a button shirt on the ground, deliberately sticking up his buttocks as he did it, knowing well that Draco was staring hard at his ass.

"Hey!" The veela had obviously noticed Harry's intentions. "We're going shopping at Diagon Alley, not staying here to have hot monkey sex!"

"Really? The second option sounds oddly appealing…" Harry buttoned up a black silk shirt, leaving the top few buttons off on purpose and stalked towards Draco. He pressed his muscular body against veela, keeping their faces less than an inch apart.

"Hmm…. Stop taunting me…" groaned Draco as he distinctly picked up Harry's scent.

"How could I resist my favourite veela in my favourite T-shirt?" teased Harry as he planted kissed on Draco's face; anywhere but the mouth.

"Your favourite veela?" Asked the blond. Chuckling, the two dived for a long, passionate kiss.

Xxx

"Harry James Potter. Count yourself lucky that these horses are swift. Or you'll better off dead for taking half my day of shopping away from me." Draco pout as they arrived at Diagon Alley. "I'm hungry. It's all your fault."

"All right, my fault, my wrongdoing, let's go for lunch, all right?" Harry cooed. They were getting rather used to the odd expression on people's faces when they saw the two together- the-boy-who-lived walking around amiably with his mortal enemy's favourite crony's son.

They went for lunch at one of those alfresco cafes near Madame Malkin's. As they sat down at the table, a waiter appeared with the menu and a gasp as he recognized the two.

"Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy! What a surprise!" the waiter squealed.

"Right," drawled Draco, obviously used to such unwanted attention. "Can I have a strawberry sauce spaghetti, a tuna and jelly sandwich, make sure you get the two mixed really well. And for deserts, I'll like a brinjal chocolate mousse."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy, but it doesn't appear that we serve those items," stuttered the waiter.

"Just put strawberry sauce instead of tomato for the spaghetti, grab some brine tuna and stir in the jelly and spread it on foccacia, and put the brinjal in a blender and mix in the chocolate. How hard can it get? Or does your puny brain not understand?" Draco barked, displeased. "So, what do you want, Harry dear?" There was an instantaneous change in emotions as Draco addressed Harry, his smile so sweet and pretty.

"Right, I'm not really that hungry. I'll stick with some butterbeer and a light salad. You know, the regular ones," replied Harry as he winked at the bewildered waiter.

As the poor waiter went to the kitchen to try to process Draco's orders, the veela started to snap at Harry. "Did you just make a pass at him?"

"No! Obviously not!" Harry panicked.

"I saw you wink at him," pouted Draco.

"No, it was just my eye twitching." Harry lied.

"Right," drawled the veela, pretending to be bored. "Hmm. I like your shirt. Can I keep it?" Draco sniffed the collar of Harry's shirt and took in the smell of Harry's cologne.

"What? That's my favourite shirt, you know." Harry complained, unwilling to part with his favourite T-shirt, one that held sentimental values; it was a gift from Sirius. During the times when Sirius was hiding away from the authorities in fifth year, he had conveniently walked into a muggle shop and bought Harry the shirt, using Muggle money the way Lily had taught them. "I can't believe how prices have inflated" Sirius had complained in the post. The shirt was not charmed like the wizarding ones, but it held a muggle artist's impression of a wizard- surprisingly resembling Dumbledore. Harry cherished the T-shirt, and it was one he had refused to let the house elves wash for him; he had insisted on scourifying it himself.

"Please? Pretty please? I'm not going to hand it back to you willingly, anyway," whined Draco defiantly. A playful smirk appeared on his face as he crossed his arm across his chest proudly.

"Draco, you know this is the one thing I would not part with," explained Harry.

"Right," agreed the veela. "So, if I can't keep this, then can I have your firebolt?"

"Okay, that is the SECOND thing I cannot part with." Harry chuckled, shaking his head in amusement as Draco pouted again. The frightened waiter appeared again with their food, Harry's light salad with the regular lettuce and Draco's weird diet. Harry eyed the pink spaghetti and gulped; it was all to distasteful for him.

"What, I'm eating for two now," Draco spat, thinking that Harry thought he was eating an awful lot of food.

"No, it's not that… but your weird cravings?" Harry raised an eyebrow as he saw Draco take a bit into the sandwich, the filling almost oozing out of the thick slabs of bread with herbs.

"I'm pregnant. I'm supposed to have weird cravings," Draco replied casually, a well-thought excuse he used at every meal.

Xxx

After lunch, Draco went straight into the boutique and had a shopping spree. He could still fit into most of the larger-sized clothing available, but he kept whining about having to pick larger-sized clothes.

"Harry, no way am I going to wear those trousers. They are tagged size L," whispered the veela as they stood at the racks that held bigger-sized clothes. A beefy wizard looked up from rack and met their eyes, snorting as he moved off with his selection.

"But you will need it when the stomach grows bigger," explained Harry slowly.

"They are huge! You mean, I'll grow that huge?" Draco held up the pair of trousers, his eyes bulging as he noticed how large the waistline was.

"And I was thinking it would come in handy just two more months down the road?" Harry quizzed. It was obvious that neither knew how large Draco was going to get, though Harry had painted a more realistic picture of it.

"What?" Exclaimed the veela, and startled a few other customers in the shop. Harry shushed him, but the flustered boy gave no heed and started pacing around.

"So you all those that I already picked up are not going to fit me anymore in two months?" Draco finally calmed down and asked Harry, pointing to a humongous pile of clothes at the cashier's.

"What? You want ALL of those? That's much more than my entire wardrobe!" It was Harry's turn to exclaim in shock.

"Yes, well, if you haven't noticed I don't repeat any of my outfits for at least a month," complained the veela. "And it doesn't help by the fact that my mother owns the largest chain of boutiques in London. We love clothes."

"Well, why can't we get clothes from your mother's store then?" questioned Harry.

"They only serve women, you silly." Draco stalked over to another rack, fingering more delicate pieces of silk robes. "Anyway, why don't I just buy those, then we can come here again when I can't fit into them?"

"I don't know…" shrugged Harry, not knowing how to deal with Draco.

"All right. Just let me go pay…" Draco fished out a bag of galleons and paid for his purchase- a whooping twenty-three bags full of clothes. Using shrinking charm, Draco shrunk the bags to one-tenth their size and placed it all in one big paper bag. Harry had a revelation at that point in time- he finally connected the concept of Draco loving to shop and how he always ended up with only one bagful of purchase.With that, Harry let out a sigh and shook his head in despair.


Author's notes: Yes, the words were squeezed out of me, immense Writer's Block. I think chapter 14 will have to wait a while; I have to go work on something else recently… please be patient ok? And those asking for a PROPER proposal, yes, it will come soon wink