Drabble Prompt: Dramione. Trying out new kinks. Draco is polyjuiced as someone else. Hermione got pregnant and now draco is worried about how the baby will look like lol.

Hermione and Draco regularly tried new things in the bedroom—and sometimes not in the bedroom at all. A certain section of an alley in muggle London was seared into her mind, from the bricks biting into her back as he pressed her to it.

He teased her for having a list, but it hadn't failed them yet. So, when it finally came to his weekend—also planned, it was only fair to take turns to live out a fantasy—Draco surprised her with what he picked.

It wasn't one of his fantasies, and she'd been certain he was going to go for where shibari was written in her clean handwriting. Having not made it a secret of how he longed to see her suspended from their bedroom ceiling, intricate knots stretching up her spine, and how he wanted to see her writhe against his ropes—think of how needy, how desperate, you'll be rubbing your cunt against them for friction—Hermione was very surprised.

"But that's mine."

He nodded. "I know. I finished brewing the potion earlier this morning."

Her mouth dried as she stared at it. "I thought we still needed to discuss this. As I remember, it was the one you weren't particularly comfortable with."

"Well," he swallowed. "I've changed my mind. Clearly."

She crossed her legs. "Why is that?"

"I know how badly you want it." The bed dipped under his knee as he moved toward her. "And I'd like to give it to you." Draco smoothed his thumbs over her ankles before wrapping his fingers around them and tugging her down the bed. "After all, it's still really me, isn't it?"

She nibbled her bottom lip. "You're sure?"

"Oh, yes." Draco's teeth showed in the darkness of their bedroom as he grinned. "Ready, love?"

Hermione nodded.

He swallowed the potion, and it was disconcerting to see blond shift to dark brown. Rather than the grey eyes she was used to, bright green stared back at her.

Her voice lodged in her throat, and she breathed, "Oh, Merlin."

"It's Harry, actually."

Same voice.

Same everything.

Hermione reached for him, sliding her hands up his chest as his shirt was vanished. She could remember the last time she'd seen Harry as such, in the Forbidden Forrest, taking and taking and taking from one another until there was nothing left to take.

"I love you so much." She whispered. "And that's to you."

Draco nodded, hair that wasn't his falling into his eyes as he lunged forward. He pinned her to the bed, shifting between her thighs before resting them on his shoulders.

She didn't breathe a name. He'd done this for her despite extreme hesitation, and pressing her luck in such a way felt disrespectful.

But she hardly had the mind the say anything beyond please, harder, please, and all of them were shrieks. Her legs trembled as he fucked her hard, recalling just what she'd said about what she wanted—and how she wanted it.

His fingers found her clit and he circled the sensitive nub. "Come for me, 'Mione."

Draco didn't call her that, but it was Harry's voice and the nickname he refused to drop and—

"Just like you did then, love. Come over my cock like you did in the tent."

She came with a wail that echoed in the manor.

oOoOoOoOo

Pregnant.

Pregnant.

Oh, fucking Merlin.

They were goddamned pregnant.

It was an initial panic. They hadn't planned for this, not yet at least. Eventually, they had agreed. Maybe in a year, but not right then.

Draco had stared at her, his dinner falling off his fork as it had been halfway to his mouth. "You—we're—what?"

She could only nod. "I know that we didn't want to have children yet. And I'm sorry if this isn't—"

His chair fell backward with how quickly he reached her, and he cupped her face to kiss her gently. "No, no." Draco shook his head. "I'm… I don't think I've ever felt this happy."

"Not even when you married me?"

"This is a close second." He murmured. "When?"

"Do you remember when you made Polyjuice and we…" Hermione trailed off. "My contraceptive potion failed, and from my estimate, it was then."

His smile wavered. "Holy fuck, I wasn't even myself when I got you up the duff!" He groaned.

She rolled her eyes. "'I'm still me, aren't I?'" Hermione mocked. "Of course you were you."

"Bollocks. If my child comes out looking like Harry fucking Potter—"

She burst into laughter. "That's not how it works. I'm sure our child will have blond hair just like you."

"—fucking lightning bolt scar—"

"Scars aren't hereditary."

Draco raked his fingers through his hair. "We can go to a healer and they can reassure us."

"No me. I'm plenty reassured. And you should be too considering you run an apothecary. You know how Polyjuice works."

In the end, Draco asked their healer a plenty embarrassing question during her first appointment.