The kits grew extremely fast, becoming tea cake-sized, gray poufballs just outside of a week. They primarily ate and slept, though hardly all at the same time, making it difficult for Draco to move around. Luckily, Potter doted on them as if he were the father, spelling away the messes in the laundry basket, feeding Draco by hand, and appearing anytime there was a noise.

(The cheeping turned out to be a normal sound for newborn kits, much to Draco's relief. He worried enough that they were going to sprout squid tentacles, without the added concern that he'd been molested by the canary at Hagrid's when he wasn't looking.)

Potter lay on the carpet in front of the basket, dressed solely in pyjama bottoms, much to Draco's deligh— er, consternation. Hand propping his head, a plate of biscuits near the curve of his belly, Potter read from a book spread flat on the floor before him, occasionally commenting on the text.

"Rowena used too many big words," Potter grumbled. "'Your loquaciousness titillates.' What the bloody hell does that mean?"

It means Rowena Ravenclaw could be seduced by words. Unsurprising, considering her braininess. Draco bet she fell for Slytherin in her time, as future Slytherin House members were master word manipulators.

"What ever happened to a simple 'I fancy you'?" Potter said. "Or poetry. Poetry is nice. 'There lived a wizard in Bond, who had a really big wand…'" Potter grinned suddenly. "Well, maybe not that one, unless you want to get slapped."

Draco snorted, nosing his sleeping kit away from his tender nipple. Of course Potter would like limericks, the lowest of lowbrow poetry.

"Sending love letters seems cowardly, though." Potter took a bite of biscuit, sending crumbs raining down on the floor. "Like you're not man enough to say your feelings to their face."

Miracle of miracles, all the kits were asleep simultaneously. Draco took advantage of the reprieve and slinked from the laundry basket to stretch his legs. He felt the pull to return immediately, the moment his paws touched the carpet. He glanced back at his kits, making sure they were safe and didn't need him.

"Eep!" he squeaked in surprise, when Potter scooped him up. He gave Potter a dirty look, as Potter rolled onto his back and held Draco over his head. It would serve the git right if Draco pissed on his face.

"I love you, Draco."

Draco froze.

"See, it's not that difficult," Potter said, or something like it. Draco was finding it hard to hear over the pounding of his heart.

Potter set Draco on his bare chest and began petting him. He lifted his head, a frown marring his brow. "Draco, what's wrong? You're trembling."

Draco stared gobsmacked at Potter, heart racing, his stomach fluttering madly.

"Draco?"

Harry… loves me?

Potter sat up, cradling Draco in his arms, fingers moving concernedly over Draco's body. "What is it? Are you hurt?" Green eyes peered anxiously at him from behind thick glasses.

Draco rose on shaky hind legs, balancing his front paws on Potter's chest, and licked a kiss on Potter's lips. He dropped immediately and buried his burning face in the crook of Potter's elbow.

Potter's stupid laugh filled the air. He scratched Draco behind the ears. "Sweet girl."

"Cheep-cheep."

The calling of a kit had Draco thanking Merlin and scrambling for the safety of the laundry basket. He found the one who'd woken, guided her to a nipple, and half-hid behind the pile of sleeping kits, flustered and self-conscious.

Potter flopped back on the floor, ate another biscuit, and returned to his reading, uncaring that he'd just turned Draco's world upside down.

tbc...