(A/N: Rated M: mature language and some depressing shit. And... well... I'm saying 'sorry' in advance, even though I did warn you, readers. Might be a bit of a mess, I wrote it rather quickly in a burst of inspiration. So... er, enjoy? :))
Harry hurries down the sidewalk, huffing and puffing slightly in his rush. He silently curses the way his belly and heavily pregnant body makes him waddle. He's tried to deny the accusations from everyone -even his arse of a husband!- that he moves about in a waddle. He'd nearly cried just to make them all feel bad. But at the moment he can't deny it. He does waddle. And it's really quite inconvenient.
He'd probably be in an even bigger panic if it weren't for Neville. His friend is walking next to him, his normally long-legged stride shortened to keep pace with Harry and his arm is securely around Harry's waist. Harry doesn't bother trying to figure out when Neville lost his clumsiness, just accepts that he's calm and collected enough to practically carry Harry along as they walk.
Harry lightly pants, a hand curled around his bulging belly. "Did Mione say what she wanted?" He almost wishes he could floo or apparate still. Walking sucks. He never used to mind it but now that he's carrying extra weight and easily winded, he'd rather chance taking a muggle car right about now. He keeps any complaints to himself though; it really isn't a long walk. Plus, it won't be hard to talk Neville -or Draco- into giving him a foot massage later.
"No," Neville says, sparing Harry one brief look that he tries to make comforting and supportive. He immediately had dozens of horrible scenarios go through his mind when he got the brief message through the floo from Hermione a short time ago: 'Come to my office'. He tries to tell himself that Hermione wouldn't be giving horrible news but it's very hard to keep rational thoughts. "She didn't but she had that high pitched voice she gets when she's freaking out but trying to hide it," he says, somehow able to still frown while speaking.
Harry just nods, understanding exactly what Neville means. He goes back to trying to keep his thoughts only on moving his feet and the warm, secure arm holding him. He doesn't let himself wonder why Hermione would call them to her office. He doesn't want to wonder why he hasn't seen Draco all afternoon. He refuses to think the two events are connected. He won't think about anything else but not tripping and falling. At just a bit past 8 months pregnant, he's become a bit more clumsy than usual. He'd probably be more upset about it if it didn't mean Draco -and Neville- kept a close eye on him and, more times than not, had a hand on him at some point to keep him steady. He really didn't mind that part. At all.
Harry cries out in surprise as he feels something slam into him and he spins his arms a bit before wrapping both protectively around his belly as he feels himself tipping and lurching. He'd most likely would have fallen if it weren't for Neville catching him, a tight grip on his waist and arm. He hangs his head trying to get his breath back and settle his stuttering heart, feeling Neville's hands pat and smooth him, mostly over his belly. "'M fine," he murmurs, squeezing the hand he's got tightly wrapped around Neville's bicep.
"What the fuck?" Neville yells, whipping his head around, looking for whoever bumped Harry. He nearly snarls when he sees a man staring wide eyed at them as he pats himself down, his movements slowing as he notices Neville's anger. "You bastard! Watch where you're going!" he seethes, his attention split between checking Harry over and sending a death glare at the man that had bumped into Harry. A final check on Harry and, once satisfied, he rounds on the stranger with a snarl. "Do you have any idea who the fuck you just smashed into?" he growls and advances on the rapidly paling man. It's enraging enough the guy slammed into Harry, but it's the fact of it being a heavily pregnant Harry that has him seeing red. What kind of arsehole doesn't watch where they walk?
Harry gapes and watches in complete shock as Neville stalks towards the poor man that had accidentally bumped into him. He's frozen for long moments, completely baffled by Neville's reaction and behavior. He's never seen him so angry before; not even when fighting in the Final Battle. He's torn between concern for the stranger and a curious flush of warmth and affection at being defended. He jumps with a shout of surprise when he sees Neville's left hand twitch with possibly dangerous intent. "Neville!" he squeaks.
"How the fuck does one miss a largely pregnant man?" Neville hisses as he glares, one hand darting out to indicate Harry as his other hand twitches towards his pocket. He doesn't know if he wants to hex the bastard or have the pleasure of just punching him. He doesn't register Harry's shouts at first, since his focus is so intent on the man that dared touch Harry and nearly caused him harm. If he hadn't been there, Harry would have fallen! Hermione had more than once given him a lecture about making sure Harry didn't over do anything since he was a bit more at risk, health-wise, during his pregnancy. Nothing that could be considered dangerous or serious, but needed to be watched out for. Just in case. They both know Harry well enough to know he'd need the extra watching... er help.
"Neville!" Harry tries again, shuffling closer. He bites his lip, unsure of what to do. He really doesn't know if tapping Neville on the shoulder is wise at this moment. It might snap Neville out of the strange rage he's in or cause him to focus it on Harry.
"Well?" Neville yells, pushing the man roughly when still hasn't uttered a single word. He glares, furious. He knows he's overreacting a bit but he can't help it. He's promised to take care of Harry and he very nearly had been forced to forfeit his promise. Not to mention the panic and fear he's feeling -and felt pouring off Harry- about the whole unknown situation with Hermione that is no doubt connected with Draco. He leans forward and speaks lowly, "Get the fuck out of here and watch where you're going." He watches the man turn and run off, looking back a few times to make sure Neville isn't following him. He nearly does, just to see what the bastard will do.
Harry taps Neville gently on the arm and breathes a sigh of relief when he sees his friend stop glaring after the poor stranger and turn apologetic eyes towards him. "Well... damn, Neville," he says with a small grin, hoping to break the mood with humor. "You're a right scary beast when you're mad."
"Oh, Merlin." Neville flushes and pulls at the hair behind his ear. "Yeah... shit. I'm sorry about that Harry," he says quietly, fully aware now that he isn't in a cloud of rage that he's freaked Harry out. "I just... I think I vented on that poor bloke," he admits with a snorting laugh.
Harry chuckles, "Well, he wasn't completely innocent. He did nearly knock me down," he says with a grin. Now that he knows Neville isn't likely to go chasing after the bloke he steps closer, curling his hands up slightly and settles against Neville's chest as close as his belly allows. "Thanks," he says quietly, resting his head on Neville's shoulder for a moment. He smiles when he feels Neville tightly wrap his arms around him, giving him a brief, light squeeze.
"Anytime," Neville says earnestly. If he hadn't held Harry the same way numerous times, and in front of Draco, he'd probably be a bit embarrassed by the intimate embrace. As it is, he's gotten used to Harry's nearly clingy ways. Especially recently. Harry didn't go long without some sort of contact from him or Draco. He holds Harry for a bit, enjoying everything from his smell to the weight against him before he gently pushes Harry upright and back a bit. "C'mon, we've got to see Mione."
Harry nods and again puts an immediate halt on any scary thoughts. "Right. Let's go," he says and waits a moment for Neville to collect his bearings and they continue on in the way they were before the interruption.
...o...
"I could rip your hair out!" Harry huffs, crossing his arms over his chest as he glares at Hermione. He has to tuck his hands away to stop them from twitching. At the moment, he's not sure if he'd be ripping out Hermione's hair as stated or strangling his smugly smiling husband. "Honestly... you had us freaking out!"
Hermione blinks a few times before her mouth drops into a small 'o' and she shakes her head, sending an apologetic look to Harry and Neville. "Oh, Harry! I'm so sorry! I didn't think how it would sound..." she trails off and bites her lip. She shares a glance with Draco and sighs. "I'm sorry." She'd been distracted and irritated with a different patient, barely remembering to send the message in the first place.
Neville, finally settled and no longer freaking out, smiles and pats Hermione's hand. "It's alright, Mione. You didn't mean to..." he grins and shoots a mock glare at Draco. "You should have known better, though."
Draco snorts with amusement and flicks his head to move a few strands of hair out of his eyes as he settles back in his seat, his ankle resting on his knee for a moment before he grimaces and moves it back to the floor. "It's really not my fault the witch couldn't take an extra second to include 'no problems, just come over to discuss shopping', now is it?"
"Yes," Harry and Neville say at the same time. They share a look and neither feels foolish for over-reacting, regardless of what Hermione or Draco say. The bastards had them in a right panic.
Harry pouts a bit as he flops back in his chair. He's feeling rather lightheaded all of a sudden, the whirlwind of emotions leaving him vaguely tired as well as the quick walk there. "Fine, fine," he huffs. "What was so important that we had to hurry over here?"
"Well you didn't have to hurry-" Hermione says but cuts herself off after getting twin glares of annoyance. "Well, anyway, as you know Neville and I did some shopping already and we're only missing the a few things," she waits a moment as Harry and Draco nod. "So, the big items I'm leaving to you," she ends looking at Harry before handing him a crisp piece of parchment with only a few items listed. While she claimed they were big items, it was only a crib and a bunch of small things. Big only in the grand scheme of things, maybe; diapers, bottles and a rather ridiculous amount of blankets.
"Alright," Harry says slowly. He rather likes the idea of sorting something out himself. His eyes narrow and he glances at Draco, his thoughts finally settled enough to think. "What are you doing here, anyway?"
Draco coughs lightly and sits up straighter in his seat. He'd hoped Harry wouldn't have asked that. While he hated to see his pregnant husband in a state of panic, it had seemed to keep his thoughts away from questioning his presence. "I came to see Hermione."
"Yes, and?" Harry asks, a bit impatiently as he waves his hand about.
"Nothing," Draco says with a slight shrug, annoyed the move sends a bright flare of pain across his shoulder and down his back. "I had some questions..." He'd recently started to take his potions every other day and he'd been nearly frantic to find out more answers from the healer. Only 5 minutes before Neville and Harry had burst through the door, he'd found out that he'd have another few weeks before he'd be taking the potion daily and from there... he didn't know what to expect and it scared the ever loving shit out of him. If he keeps his luck with how his disease is progressing, he'd still be relatively lucid by the time Harry delivered. He feels Hermione's questioning glance and shrugs. He didn't know if he wants to tell Harry what they've discussed or not. He didn't hide anything about his progress but he didn't want to worry Harry either, not so close to his due date.
"And?" Harry asks again, a bit shortly. His eyes flick between Hermione and Draco, knowing there's something going on.
Draco sighs and rubs between his eyes as they close for a moment. "I'm taking the potion every other day."
"Oh," Harry says quietly. He slowly stands, struggling a big under the weight of his belly, before plopping himself into Draco's lap. He flashes an apologetic smile at the pained wince that passes across Draco's face for a moment and just stares at the blonde before nodding slowly and snuggling into him, kissing his jaw gently. He turns his attention to Hermione. "And this means... what exactly?" He has an idea, but he needs to know instead of guess.
Hermione clears her throat and gives Harry a soft smile. "It means that in a few weeks, at best, he'll be taking it daily. I can't predict how long it'll remain effective after that point," she says in her quiet 'healer' tone but it's soft with the regret of a friend as well. "The muggle medications are still working well, so it's harder to say exactly how it'll go." She shares a look with Draco; the unknown irritating them both. Even with the pain managed, it didn't halt the disease's progression. She wishes she had more time to study the illness but she didn't want to turn Draco into her own personal guinea pig, not when he needed to spend his time with Harry.
"Oh," Harry sighs and shifts so he's resting his cheek on Draco's chest, running a hand in slow circles over it before letting rest over his heart. He closes his eyes and enjoys the muffled thud for a few moments. "Alright." He blinks back the prickling in his eyes and just breathes in Draco's scent. He knew this would happen but it isn't at all easy to take even knowing beforehand. He'd peeked in the file Draco started last week; reading through his husband's final arrangements and it had sent him into an hour long crying fit. He didn't feel at all soothed when he realized he already knew Draco's final wishes. He'd been relieved to see he left Blaise to take care of the details, though. He didn't think he be able to handle it, he could only be so strong.
Neville watches the couple and clenches his fists in his lap as he looks away. He hates seeing them go through this and he's unsure what to do. He feels powerless and it makes him irritable. He'd visited Harry last week and felt is chest tighten when he saw Harry's red-rimmed eyes, his heart tightening painfully when he realized he'd been crying. A few deep breathes and he's calmer. "Mione," he says softly and gives his friend a searching look. He sees similar feeling mirrored there and he nods once; it was somehow perversely calming that a trained healer felt just as helpless. "Have you both eaten yet?" he asks, changing the subject.
Hermione smiles and shakes her head. "No, we thought we'd all go get something later."
"Good," Neville stands and shuffles over to where Harry and Draco are still snuggled in the chair. "Hungry?"
Draco nods, earning him smiles from everyone else in the room. "I was thinking pizza."
Harry perks up and sighs happily. "Oh, goody!" he gushes, bouncing in Draco's lap. He loves pizza and he's thrilled Draco didn't have to be coerced or talked into eating it. Well, anymore. "I knew you secretly loved it," he says with a cheeky wink.
"Yes, well," Draco says and sniffs softly as he tilts his chin up. He couldn't deny that he enjoyed it and at this point he really doesn't see a need to. Plus, Harry loved it and he'd happily do anything to make him smile these days. "I like the spicy things they put on it." The corner of his mouth quirks up in a half smile when Harry kisses his chin.
Neville and Hermione chuckle. They haven't found a topping yet that Draco or Harry would refuse yet. Neville is still a bit put off by pineapple but he really couldn't say no when Harry gave the puppy dog eyes or got that crazed look in his eye when he needed a certain kind of food. "Right, let's go," Neville says, gently pulling Harry up from Draco's lap. He nods at the twin looks of gratitude. Harry couldn't quite get up on his own and Draco had trouble lifting his husband up anymore.
"Oh!" Hermione cries, pausing on her way out of the door. "I almost forgot!" She hurries back over to her desk, throws open a drawer and spends a few moments shoving things aside. All three men share a confused yet amused look as they go back to watching Hermione search as she mutters a curse. "Aha!" she crows and lifts a small box from her drawer. She walks over and hands it to Harry with a smug smile. "Wait a week, then open it."
"A week?" Harry asks, a whine in his voice. "Why not just wait a week to give it to me?" he asks, annoyed.
Hermione snickers and leads him from her office, locking up behind them as they leave. "Because I'd forget all about it and feel like vermin for neglecting you." She's a bit annoyed Harry refused a birthday party this year, even if she understood his reasoning. Between him being largely pregnant and Draco progressing so rapidly, a party just seemed… tiring and not altogether worth it. A quiet dinner is celebration enough this year but it was after his birthday and she hated giving presents late.
"Oh," Harry mutters, turning the small box around to inspect it. He gives her a brief suspicious look; since when did Hermione forget anything, especially something she deems important? He shrugs, quickly becoming unconcerned, and squeezes the box a bit. "Is it shrunken?" he finally asks. He doesn't care if it's big or small, he's just curious. He shakes it gently but there is no sound at all.
Hermione only smiles. "It'll sort itself out when it's time to be opened," she says.
"Alright," Harry says brightly, stuffing the box in a pocket. "Can someone glamour me?" he asks sheepishly. He hates that his magic is a bit wonky now but he doesn't mind letting his friends help him since it would be incredibly stupid to risk his baby or his own health by doing magic, especially for something as simple as a glamour. He gives Hermione a cheeky grin when she nods approvingly.
Neville nods, waving his wand in a quick pattern around Harry's belly, as he's used to performing the glamour on Harry. He smiles when the large bump disappears, the sight a bit disturbing as it seems to melt away. "There. All safe to be around muggles," he announces. He isn't able to get rid of the waddle-walk Harry has now but he hopes it would just come across as a cocky saunter if anyone looks closely.
"Thanks, Nev," Harry says, looping his arm through Neville's. He loops the other through Draco's and leans his head on his shoulder for a moment before straightening up so they can walk. He knows he doesn't look pregnant but he still feels it and he groans softly as they walk. He'd forgotten how far away the muggle pizzeria was. "How much further?" he asks, huffing a bit after a few minutes of walking. He's sure his feet are bound to fall off at this point…
Hermione pops her face between Harry and Draco's. "Just another few blocks," she says and points down the street. "See?"
"Oh thank Merlin," Harry says. He tries not to rub his belly, knowing the action would look incredibly odd as his hand would hover a bit in front of his glamoured stomach. He hurries his pace, trying to get to the goal of food and a chair as quickly as he can.
...o...
Harry watches Draco toss an empty vial into the trash with a grimace on his face. He didn't keep track as closely as he used to, Draco now taking the potion daily. He sighs and wraps his arms around Draco from behind, a bit annoyed his belly keeps him from getting closer. "Alright, love?"
"Yes," Draco says quietly, covering Harry's hands with his own. He ignores the tremble and slowly rubs along Harry's arm. He's not quite alright but he won't share that with Harry. The potions are barely easing his pain and he's almost completely relying on the Muggle pills, but he's grateful they're still effective. He turns a bit, resting his hands on Harry's very swollen belly. He's due in about a week but he has a feeling their daughter will be early. He feels pressure against his palm and he smiles, bending down a bit to kiss Harry softly. "Did Hermione say when she'd schedule you for the surgery?"
Harry shakes his head, biting his lip with a sudden flutter of nerves. He'd really hoped to deliver his daughter naturally but Hermione had strongly recommended against it. Apparently, Amanda hadn't turned properly and the risks for such a birth in males were... scary. "No, but it'll probably be sometime next week, close to my due date," he says, absently rubbing a hand over his belly, scratching a bit between Draco hands. "I think she's keeping her options open, for the surprise factor and all that," he says. Hermione had taken on less patients recently and her schedule is a bit sparse these days. He chuckles, having a strong feeling he'd be surprising Hermione at the worst possible time, regardless of her efforts. Right in the middle of sex or hours before dawn.
Draco hums, happily nodding. He'll definitely be here for that. It sends a happy thrill through him even as he grimaces in pain from standing too long. "Did you let Neville know?" he asks quietly. Even if he isn't the godfather, he'd want Neville there for his and Harry's peace of mind. They've all gotten quite close over the past months; it wouldn't feel right to not include him.
"Yes," Harry says, rolling his eyes and smiling. "Of course I did. He asked to be there, like I wouldn't have forced him there anyway," he says, chuckling. He thought Neville was probably more anxious for him to deliver than Draco. Or Hermione. Or himself. "Did you know he's carrying around a shrunken packed bag?" he asks, giggling. "Just in case." He spent enough time alone with Neville, he could understand even if it amused him greatly.
Draco shakes his head, smiling. "No, but that doesn't surprise me at all." He steps away, kissing Harry once more before carefully making his way to their bed, easing himself down amongst a large pile of pillows. Between him and Harry, there's barely any room for people on their bed for all the pillows they've piled on since they've both taken to nearly nesting in them. He smiles again when Harry sits with a huff of exertion and gracelessly flops backwards onto the bed, rolling a bit to settle next to him. He winces but doesn't make a pained groan as Harry rests his head on his chest and drapes an arm across his waist. He wouldn't stop Harry from doing that for anything, no matter how much pain it causes. "Are you ready, love?" he asks quietly, running a hand down Harry's arm before letting it rest on his belly.
"No," Harry admits and chuckles. "But I'm as prepared as I can get. The nursery is fully stocked. I've never seen so many little outfits in my life!" he says, his voice a bit quiet with awe. If he were to guess, he'd say his daughter had enough clothes -in varying sizes- to change her outfit dozens of times a day and not have to wash anything for a year. He himself was a bit guilty of over-shopping; who can honestly resist buying such adorable things? Muggles, especially, had the cutest clothing for little girls. He adored the one pieces with ears or tails on them.
Draco chuckles, squeezing Harry tightly and sighing happily when he feels him shift and rest a leg carefully over his, fighting a chuckle when Harry wiggles his chilly toes between his thighs. Sex might no longer be an option these days but he'd never give up snuggling. Not that he'd ever admit to doing it and enjoying it, especially to Hermione. He wouldn't give the witch a chance to recommend against it. He'd happily endure. "Did you get Mother's contribution?"
"Yes," Harry snorts. "Did you know she was going to that?" he asks, struggling up to an elbow to gaze down at Draco. His eyes prickle against his will as he looks and notices all the changes that've happened to his husband in just the past weeks. His pale hair doesn't shine as much as it used to and it's definitely thinning. He gently runs a finger down's Draco's cheek, trying not to notice the pallor or sharper angles.
Draco looks away for a moment before meeting Harry's eyes again. "Maybe," he finally admits. He didn't know but he had his suspicions... and he'd hoped, as well. "It's kind of a tradition, love. It really is a good sign she'd send some ancestral furniture." He'd openly wept when his childhood bassinet, crib and a silver rattle had been delivered. They weren't just gifts; they were tokens of his Mother's acceptance and love.
"I see," Harry says quietly, running a hand through Draco's hair with soft caresses. He rarely understood pure-blooded traditions but he'd easily seen how much the gifts meant to his husband. He hadn't been able to stop himself from joining Draco in shedding tears when he heard the items were Draco's. And numerous other Malfoy's, but the fact they'd been Draco's meant more to him than anything else. He still gets teary when he knows he'll be placing his daughter down to sleep in the same place his husband had laid as a baby. He questioned the practicality of a silver rattle but easily allowed the crib to be placed in the nursery and the bassinet was currently by their bed, both ready with adorable matching pink gingham linens. "I don't have to go there and formally thank her, do I?"
Draco chuckles and gives Harry a happy smile. "Yes."
"Damn."
...o...
"Draco!"
Draco mumbles as he rolls on his side, nuzzling his face into his pillow with a sleepy grunt. His eyes fly open with the bright flare of pain that shoots through him and he jerks up when a hand forcefully shakes him. "Fuck! Ow!" he hisses, rolling back over to curse who ever shook him so rudely before his brain can fully comprehend who would be doing such a thing. His eyes widen when he sees Harry sitting stiffly up in their bed with both hands wrapped around his belly and a panicked look on his face. "Oh, Merlin! Now?" he breathes.
"Yes," Harry says, trying not to whimper. He bends over a bit, crying out softly when he feels a tearing pain rip down his belly to his groin. His hands circle, trying to sooth and soften the stiffness. "Call... Hermione... Neville..." he pants out through clenched teeth, trying to remember the breathing exercises Hermione taught him. He feels like a complete idiot panting like a dog or a freight train until he notices the pain easing off.
Draco jumps from the bed, limping a bit and he cursing when he lands harshly. He hobbles over to the floo, silently grateful he' remembered to restock the floo powder just that morning. He tosses in the sparkling powder, trying not to wring his hands or pace impatiently. "Hermione!" he bellows, poking his head into the cool flames and looking about wildly. Where is that witch? "Hermione! It's Harry!" he yells, feeling his head go light and swimmy with the effort. He doesn't think about his words and how confusing they might be; Hermione will no doubt understand he means he's calling about Harry. He sighs with relief when he hears muttering and someone stomping towards the floo.
"Yes?"
Draco glares up at Hermione's husband, Tom or something... "Get Hermione, dammit! Harry's gone into labor!" he nearly screams, wanting to reach through the flames and throttle the man. He watches, thankful, as the man jumps up, calling for his wife. He turns and looks behind him, his lips pressing together as he watches Harry breathe in a strange manner, vaguely remembering the classes they'd gone to once to learn such an odd thing. "Hermione!" he yells again and jumps when the he's pushed back.
"For Merlin's sake, I'm here," Hermione says dryly, pulling her robe around her and tying her sash. She should have known the prats would catch her on one of the few nights she slept nude. "Now, when did it start?" she asks, looking between Draco and Harry. Harry, she notices with a proud smile, is panting and huffing, his eyes firmly planted on a picture somewhere over her left shoulder.
Harry puffs and pants, clenching his teeth again. "About 20 minutes ago."
"20 min- Harry! Why didn't you wake me sooner?" Draco demands, stalking towards the bed. He pushes the pillows behind Harry roughly and eases himself behind Harry, running a hand through Harry's damp hair as he kisses the back of his neck. He closes his eyes for a moment. He knows the answer and he feels like an utter arse. Of all the nights to be nearly comatose with his pills... he kisses the back of Harry's neck again and smiles a bit when one of Harry's hands slide down his belly to wrap around his.
Harry puffs, the sound close to a choked laugh. "I tried..." he says, groaning softly and leaning back into Draco as much as he dares. He shoots Hermione a grateful look when she approaches, her wand out, and casts a mild pain reliever and diagnostic spells as she gets closer. "Sorry, Mione."
"Oh, Harry, it's fine," Hermione says brightly, waving a dismissive hand. "Babies always keep their own schedule," Hermione says, smiling a bit. This isn't the first time she's been called out of bed and it won't be the last. She nods as all the diagnostic spells come back as she'd hoped. "Right, let's get you to the hospital," she says as she leans over and wraps an arm around Harry's waist and lifting him with surprising strength. "I've got him, Draco. You call Neville, yeah?"
Draco nods, wringing his hands a bit as he debates with himself. There is no one he entrusts Harry to more than Hermione but he doesn't want to leave his husband's side for a second. "Alright," he finally says just before they disappear through the floo. He scowls a bit, annoyed at the abrupt departure, before using the floo again the call Neville.
Minutes later, Draco and Neville are rushing through the halls of the new wizarding hospital, St. Lucas. Harry had picked it because it didn't have any negative memories for him and Draco just liked that it was a shiny, new building and less likely to be poorly secured or dirty. Hermione had also ensured he'd be in a very private, secured area. Looking up at the room numbers, he mutters "204" over and over, keeping the room Harry is supposed to be in fresh in his mind. He finds the room with a triumphant noise and skids to a stop in the doorway as he sees the empty bed and his mother perched in a chair in the corner, grunting with surprise and pain when Neville crashes into him. "Mother," he says, his voice quiet with shock and surprise.
"Draco, darling," Narcissa says, standing gracefully and kissing Draco's cheek. She frowns ever so slightly at the hollow feel but brightens as she remembers the reason for her being there. "Neville," she says, nodding her head politely to the man with Draco. "Harry is in surgery and everything is going wonderfully," she informs her son, smiling softly. It's quite embarrassing how long she'd held Harry at arm's length. He'd been married to her son for years, obviously making him happy and it took her son's terminal illness and the arrival of a grandchild for her to come around. She knows she'll have to be subtle, Harry will likely shy away –or question her motives—if she suddenly hugged him or spoke kindly. Regret and shame has her smiling faltering a bit, so she sits back down and smoothes her robes out with a graceful sweep of her hands.
Draco finally eases into the room, sparing Neville a pained expression and nods. They'd both hoped to get here soon enough to be able to be present for the surgery. "Thank you," he says, lowering himself to the stiff hospital bed, absently reaching out for Neville's hand when the other man settles into the chair by the bed. "I don't suppose you know how long it'll be?"
Narcissa eyes her son's hand clasped in Neville's and clears her throat softly. "No, not precisely. Mrs. Granger-Richardson said it shouldn't be more than an hour, all together."
"Alright," Draco sighs and closes his eyes. It's only been 10 minutes or so since he thought Harry would've been in surgery. He knows his mother isn't saying it'll be longer should some complication arise and he finds himself praying nothing goes wrong. Please, for once, let Harry's luck work for the best.
Neville squeezes Draco's hand lightly, trying not to cause pain and tries to ignore the piercing gaze of Mrs. Malfoy. "It'll be fine, Draco. He's got the best team of healers with him. Specialists, too," he says quietly.
"I know," Draco says, cracking an eye open and giving Neville a small, brief thankful smile. He checks the time and groans softly. He should have known his daughter would choose the middle of the night to arrive. He sits up a bit straighter and looks over to his mother curiously as a thought occurs to him. Why is his mother even here? "Who let you know?" he asks, trying not to sound upset or accusatory.
Narcissa clears her throat again, fighting a blush of both embarrassment and joy. "Mrs. Granger-Richardson."
"Hermione told you?" Draco asks incredulously, gaping stupidly. He hadn't even been aware the two even corresponded. "When?"
"I was first alerted my presence would be appreciated about a month ago. I received her owl shortly after Harry was admitted and floo'd right over." She'd been offered to come in to the surgical room but declined, regretfully, sure that Harry wouldn't have appreciated it.
Draco blinks, surprised a bit chagrined that Hermione had taken it upon herself to contact his mother. He would have, eventually. He glances at Neville and sees a similar look of surprise on his face as well. As much as he's been irritated with his mother and her lack of a relationship with Harry, he finds himself pleased she's here. "I see. Thank you, Mother."
"Of course, Draco," Narcissa says, inclining her head and settling back in the chair as he picks up her book again.
An agonizing 45 minutes later, everyone in the room jumps when the door is thrown open and Hermione rushes in. She's wearing something akin to muggle scrubs, a surgical mask dangling around her neck. Her hair is back to its frizzy state, flying about her face in a crazy cloud and there's a brilliant smile on her face as she rushes over to Draco and gently envelopes him in a hug. "Congrats, daddy! It's a girl!" she laughs.
"I knew that already," Draco says, his voice hoarse as he talks around a lump in his throat. "How's Harry?"
Hermione smiles again and steps back, smoothing her wild hair back, conjuring a band around the bundle. "He's going great, should be awake in a few minutes."
"And Amanda?" Neville asks, standing next to Draco.
Hermione clasps her hands together, holding them tightly between her breasts as she beams again. "Oh, she's absolutely beautiful! Healthy, a good size and already screaming for her mum."
"'Mum'?" Draco snorts, amused. "He'll love hearing that. When can we see her?"
Hermione goes to open her mouth but stops when there's a knock on the door. "Right about now, actually," she says brightly and hurries to open the door. She murmurs quietly to whoever is at the door and comes back into the room with a pink bundle cradled reverently in her arms. "Draco, Neville, Narcissa," she says looking around the room, then holds up the bundle a bit. "Meet Amanda Jean Potter," she says softly, moving the pink blanket away from a pink, slightly chubby faced baby before gently transferring her to Draco. As soon as Draco gets her, she quietly slips out, hoping that Harry is awake and can join his little family.
"Holy shit," Draco whispers with awed admiration, running a finger gently down one chubby, perfectly pink little cheek before sweeping it down her nose. He leans down, inhaling as deeply as he can and smiles. He doesn't think he'll ever forget that smell; his daughter. He turns a bit and smiles proudly at Neville. "She's finally here, Nev!" His voice chokes a bit at the end, but he's just so relieved he's there and able to hold his daughter he doesn't care how sappy he looks.
Neville nods, furiously blinking away a prickling feeling and smiling wide enough to make his cheeks hurt a bit. "That she is. She's beautiful," he says softly, stepping closer and pushing the blanket aside so he can take a peek. He chuckles as he sees a wisp of black hair poking out from the little pink cap on her head. "And she's got Potter hair, I believe," he says with a chuckle, gently fingering the dark hair over one tiny ear.
"Oh no," Draco murmurs and gently pulls the little pink cap off. His breath catches at the full head of wild, black hair that flies up and in every direction the moment the cap comes off. "Oh," he says again, sounding a bit breathless. He doesn't know whether to be insanely smitten at how much she looks like Harry or horribly sorry for his daughter to be cursed with his husband's atrocious hair. He places a gentle kiss on the soft hair and pauses, eyes wide with a bit of panic as she shifts a bit with a sigh, her little lips pursing and smacking a bit before she stills again. He grins at Neville and before the man can blink, he's transferred his daughter into the other wizard's arms. He nods once, proud that Neville's arms were up and cradling his daughter before he even placed his daughter there. He doesn't want to admit how much holding her has strained his arms. He sits back on the bed, smiling as Neville stares down at his daughter with wonder and love.
Neville looks up, still a bit in shock and absently runs his thumb over the tiny, dimpled knuckles of the hand sticking out of the blanket and resting against her face. He hasn't a clue why they're so fascinating. "She's perfect, Draco. Harry's going to be thrilled." Draco nods proudly in agreement and he goes back to looking over every part of Amanda that he can see. Her eyes are closed, but he's pretty sure they'd be blue... for now. Her little nose is a bit pointed, as well as her little chin. He runs a finger over one dark eyebrow and smiles. "Is it normal for her to be sleeping?" he asks, looking mostly at Narcissa. He'd always thought babies cried... all the time. Luna's twins certainly had; usually in shifts, too, the blighters.
"Of course," Narcissa says, nodding once. "It's tough work being born," she says, a hint of a smile on her lips. "Some babies are quite a joy, hardly ever putting up a fuss. I know it's hard to believe, but Draco was a very laid back baby. Only cried when he needed something and slept through by the time he was 2 months old," she says, fondly looking at Draco, her icy blue eyes a bit misty. She quietly walks towards the two men and nods towards Amanda. "May I, Draco?" she asks quietly. She wants to hold her granddaughter but she feels a bit reluctant to remove her from her godfather's hold, almost unwilling to disturb the two.
"Oh! Yes, of course, Mother," Draco says, giving her an apologetic smile. He'd nearly forgotten she was here and he wonders if she should have been offered to hold his daughter first. He shrugs a bit when Neville looks at him questioningly. He really can't refuse his mother, regardless of how she's been acting recently. He smiles slightly when Neville just nods and stands, gently transferring Amanda to Narcissa before moving to the chair in the corner of the room.
Narcissa pulls the blanket down and sighs with pride. "She's absolutely perfect, Draco," she says proudly, giving her son a quick but heartfelt smile. She's not at all surprised; it be nearly impossible for her son and Harry to make anything less than perfection. She softly brushes her nose against her granddaughter's, pulling back with a smile.
"Yes, I know," Draco says proudly. He can't help giving his mother a smug smile. He glances briefly towards the corner and frowns a bit, unsure why Neville has moved himself into the corner. Before he can ask about it the door opens and he's up and off the bed the moment he sees Harry. Relief and love rush through him as he watches a medi-witch guide his husband, carelessly sprawled out, in a floating chair into the room. He rushes over, helping the medi-witch maneuver Harry into the room, ignoring the slightly shocked look on her face. He grabs Harry's hand, smiling brightly down at him, easily ignoring the flair of pain in his hand. He runs a hand through his dark, messy hair and is only just able to restrain himself from pulling him out of the chair and holding him tightly. He leans over and kisses Harry softly, smiling as he stands back up. "Harry," he murmurs, relieved he looks completely fine, if only a bit tired and doped up.
Harry is looking groggy and a bit stoned but awake. His eyes brighten as he looks around the room and looks up to smile tiredly at Draco. "Have you seen her?" he asks quietly. He sighs with happiness and relief when the blonde nods. He'd been thrilled to know his daughter wasn't stuck in a cold, lonely bassinet in some nursery and had been placed in his room as soon as her tests had been performed. He goes to stand and scowls when the medi-witch pushes his shoulder firmly, making him flop back into the floating chair. "I want to see her," he says, looking up pleadingly. His hands nearly twitch with the urge to hold and touch his daughter. He'd been a bit upset to wake up and see a flat belly, his hands patting at the area with a bit of panic. Thankfully, any of the painful healing parts were completely over by the time he awoke and now he only wants to see his daughter and take a nap.
"I know, and you can," the medi-witch says kindly. "But in bed first. You've just been healed from major surgery! Healer Granger-Richardson will have my wand if I don't make sure you're taking it easy," she tuts softly, reminding Harry strongly of Madam Pomfrey, as she directs the chair alongside the bed. She ignores Harry's protests that he isn't an invalid and floats him onto the bed, tucking the blankets around him and fixing the bed's angle. She waves her wand and casts a mild binding charm, limiting how much Harry can sit up and ensure he can't leave the bed until Healer Granger-Richardson clears him. "There, that wasn't so terrible, was it?" she asks with a grin. "Right, I'll be back with a breakfast tray," she pauses and looks around the room. "Normally, we only allow two visitors at a time, so..." she trails off meaningfully and bustles out of the room, she hadn't the heart to actually remove anyone and hopes no one causes a fuss to make her regret her leniency, offering Harry and Draco her congratulations.
Harry sits up, as far as his bed and magical bindings allow, and wiggles his fingers at Narcissa. "May I have her please?" he asks, barely restraining the urge to just demand his daughter. He really didn't mind Narcissa holding Amanda, but he feels a bit petty at the moment. He wants his daughter, dammit; it's annoying that so many people have already seen and held her before he got the chance.
"Of course," Narcissa says and carefully eases her granddaughter into Harry's arms. She allows a small smile as she watches Harry's face light up as he stares down at his daughter, a finger tracing gentle patterns over her small pink face. She clears her throat softly when she sees Draco staring at the pair as well, his eyes intent but misty and happy. "I'll be going now."
Draco's gaze reluctantly leaves Harry and his daughter to glance up at his mother. "Alright. Thank you for coming," he says, standing to kiss his mother's cheek. He watches his mother say polite and slightly awkward goodbyes to Harry and Neville before she leaves in a graceful sweep of lavender robes.
"That was weird," Harry mutters, his eyes still down and staring intently at his daughter. He flicks his eyes up and sees Draco nodding. "I hope you don't expect me to be nice to her now..."
Draco chuckles as he eases himself back onto the bed, pressing along Harry's side snugly. "Not at all, love. She's got to earn that, I believe."
"Damn right," Harry mumbles. He looks around and smiles brightly when he finally sees Neville sitting in the corner. He was just about to ask where the man was. "Nev!" he says happily. "I'm so glad you're here."
Neville smiles and gets up, moving around the bed to sit at the end. He's no longer feeling awkward now that Mrs. Malfoy has left. He didn't really care what she thought about his friendship with Harry and Draco, he just had never been comfortable around the woman; her stern, cool demeanor reminds him too much of his gran to be comfortable around the woman. He gently places a hand on Harry's leg. "How're you feeling?" he asks, looking at Harry closely.
"Good, surprisingly. Tired and a bit achy, but good... considering. I love magic," Harry says and gives a cheeky grin. He shudders a bit at the thought of going through the surgery without magical healing. He knows muggles use horrid things like stitches and staples instead of healing charms and potions and he's flooded with relief and gratitude he didn't have to suffer through such things. A twinge in his lower stomach is really the only indicator that he'd be sliced open and his baby removed less than an hour ago. He pats the bed next to him, grinning at Neville.
Neville rolls his eyes but smiles and moves to lay next to Harry, a bit surprised when the bed enlarges a bit and a pillow pops up behind him. "Comfy," he says dryly, resting back on the narrow, flat pillow. He snuggles down, settling himself comfortably along Harry's side, turning a bit so he can see the others in the bed better.
"It's horrible," Draco says in agreement, just as dryly. He snorts with amusement when Harry nods and snakes an arm behind him and pulls his husband close. He rests his chin on Harry's shoulder as he looks down at his daughter and sighs happily. He might have missed the chance to watch her be born but he hadn't missed the opportunity to be here. He feels insanely grateful, in an odd way and can only hope he'll have some more time to watch her grow a bit. He runs a finger gently down the slope of her little nose and wonders what color her eyes will be.
Harry rests his head on Neville's shoulder and doesn't bother moving when the door opens again.
"Everything good?" Hermione asks, not even blinking at the full bed. She pulls her wand and waves it over Harry, quickly performing many diagnostic spells. She tucks her wand away, nodding happily as all three men look up at her expectantly. "Everything is good," she says happily, sitting at the foot of the bed. "Healing is nearly all the way, but you're still restricted for at least another 2 hours. Vitals are all great and Amanda here is also doing extremely well." She unslings the bag on her shoulder, plopping it onto the bed and unzipping it. "This is a few basics, just while you're here," she says, removing a small pile of diapers, blankets and a half dozen ready-made bottles. She casts a mild heating charm on one of the bottles and hands it to Neville. "Just in case… I think she'll be asking for that shortly." Another small pile of onsies joins the other piles. She eyes the items critically before nodding and putting them away again, only keeping the bottles out. She arranges them on the rolling table next to the bed and stretches a bit.
Harry grins at his friend and healer. "When can I leave?"
"Honestly, Harry," Hermione says fondly, rolling her eyes a bit. "You've just had a baby. You're stuck here for at least a day. Observation and all that," she says sternly. "Might as well get over it," she says before laughing at Harry's disgruntled expression. "For both of you, you know," she points out and Harry's face, predictably, smoothes out and he nods immediately. Of course he'd agree for Amanda's well-being.
Amanda stirs, her lips smacking before her face pinks and scrunches up. Before she can get a loud wail out, Neville passes the bottle to Harry who eases it into Amanda's open mouth. "Hermione," Harry chides, his eyes finally tearing away from staring at his daughter. "If you wake her again, I'm going to hex you."
"Well, sorry," Hermione says a bit sarcastically. "Babies cry, and she was hungry. It wasn't me," she shrugs. "But I've got to go anyway, I've a few patients to check on before I can get out of here," she stands and smoothes her pants before kissing each of their cheeks, running a gentle finger down her goddaughter's cheek before she leaves. "I'll be back in a few hours," she says, sweeping out of the room.
The room is quiet except for the snuffly sucking sounds of Amanda finishing her bottle. Just as she starts sucking air, Harry pulls the bottle out with a pop and easily switches her to his shoulder. "What?" he asks, his hand pausing in the patting motion when he feels two intense gazes on him. He looks between Neville and Draco with a bit of confusion.
"I don't know why you were so worried, love," Draco says, a smile tugging at his lips. "You're a natural," he says quietly, a bit envious. He knows he won't be that natural and sure with his daughter. He wouldn't have thought to pat her bum until a wet burp came out. He sees Neville nodding in agreement and sends him a smile. He lies back, letting his gaze fall on his daughter's face over Harry's shoulder. Her eyes are already drooping again and he hopes they'll be a vibrant green like Harry's.
Harry shrugs his free shoulder, a slight blush on his face. "Well, good then," is all he can think to say. He hadn't thought twice; he just did what he knew he needed to do. He didn't know if he'd be as 'natural' when it came to everything else but he's oddly excited to find out. He settles back in the bed, his daughter on his shoulder still as he snuggles against Draco and Neville, indescribably happy both are there with him.
...o...
Harry fastens the last picture in the last album with a quick sticking charm, twirling his wand a bit before sliding it up his sleeve. He's quite pleased his magic is completely back to normal and he's not at all embarrassed to use to for even the littlest things now. He slides his wand back out and with a quick flick he watches the date appear on the front of the newest album. He'll need to get another...
He smiles as he sorts the numerous albums. He'd barely gone an hour without a camera either in his hand or floating around -charmed to take a picture when he said 'cheese!'- taking pictures. He wanted as many as possible. He didn't want to miss a second of his daughter's growth or miss a single moment of Draco holding her. She's gotten bigger in the few weeks she's been born and Draco tended to perch her in a chest carrier and making sure he was sitting or laying down before holding her. He'd gotten quite adept at piling pillows in an intricate pattern to feed her and still hold her close without tiring his arms or risk dropping her.
Harry runs a finger down photo-Draco's cheek, the picture looping to show Draco making a goofy face as Amanda stares up at him with wide eyes. Draco had been a bit put out when he saw the camera flash but Harry refused to get rid of the picture, no matter how embarrassing his husband found it. He loves it and will cherish it forever. He's glad he spent the extra Galleons on albums with protection and preservation charms on them.
There are pictures of Neville and Hermione with Amanda as well, but most of them are of Draco and Harry can't look at most of them without a bittersweet feeling constricting his chest and making his eyes prickle. He'd probably still be taking so many pictures even in better circumstances.
Sitting back in his chair, taking a moment to check the alarm and smiling when it's still glowing a soft yellow to indicate Amanda is still sleeping peacefully, he pulls an album into his lap and looks through the pictures again.
"I like that one."
Harry jumps a bit before smiling up at Neville, chuckling softly as his friend perches on the armrest of his chair. "I do, too." He glances down and grins at the picture of the first time Draco was had to change a diaper, without the benefit of magic. The expression on his face... priceless. "First and last time for that, I believe." Neville moved in about a week after Amanda was born when Draco asked -well, practically demanded- it. He'd been unhappily living alone and jumped at the chance. He still feels a bit bad, but still immensely grateful, for all the help Neville has been the past few weeks helping him take care of Amanda... and Draco.
"I do believe," Neville agrees, smiling softly. He rests his hand on the back of Harry's neck, warm and happy when Harry leans into the touch and settles into his chair with a soft, contented sigh. He glances up out of habit and checks Amanda's alarm and nods with satisfaction that it's still a sunny yellow. "Did you enchant that camera to follow him everywhere?" he asks, trying not to giggle or coo adoringly at a picture of Draco laying practically naked in bed with Amanda laying on his chest. The pair are both asleep, identical peaceful expressions on their faces.
Harry nods, looking at the picture with a small smile. He adores this picture; every time he looks at it he wants to crawl in and curl up around them both. "Sorta," he finally answers. "I charmed one camera just to follow Draco whenever he was with Amanda. He learned pretty quick to hand her off or set her in her bed before hitting the loo," he adds with a chuckle.
"I bet," Neville says, shifting on the arm to tuck his foot up on the cushion, leaning down to look at the pictures better. No matter how many times he looks through them, there are always new ones. He looks up when Draco shuffles in the room. He jumps up from the chair, helping Draco over to the overstuffed chair to plop down next to Harry. "Hungry?" he asks quietly.
Draco shakes his head slowly, curling up a bit and settling into Harry's side. "No," he murmurs. He only wants Harry. Everything hurts and he truly fears the worst. He closes his eyes, burying his face in Harry's neck, inhaling as deeply as he can.
Harry and Neville share a look before Harry kisses Draco's forehead, thanking Neville softly when the other man closes the album and gently takes it from Harry. Harry shifts a bit, getting more comfortable to hold Draco to him, thanking Neville again when Amanda is put in his lap, snuggled between them. He rolls his eyes at the camera flash. "You..." he trails off and huffs, a small smile on his face. "I suppose it's only fair, yeah?"
"Yeap," Neville says, as brightly as he can. There weren't nearly enough pictures of the whole little family, in his opinion. He sets the camera down and with a quick smile, settles himself carefully next to Harry. He can't help but sigh with contentment when Harry pulls him closer and rests his head on his shoulder.
...o...
Harry bolts upright in bed, waking with a sudden feeling of panic. He looks around groggily and hears a soft snuffling noise from the bassinet next to the bed. Most times, he didn't usually wake up until his daughter actually cries. He eases out of bed to pick her up before her snuffles can turn into wails, hopefully reducing the chance of her waking anyone. He summons a bottle with a sleepy wave of his hand and settles back in bed, holding Amanda close as he leans up against the headboard to give her her bottle. He yawns softly, pausing with his mouth still open when he notices the other side of the bed is empty. "Draco?" he calls out softly, chewing the inside of his cheek as he waits for an answer. None comes. Panic flares through him again as he sits upright again, dislodging the bottle a bit. He swiftly stands, holding his daughter a bit closer as he looks around the room, his eyes having adjusted to the dim lighting. A feeling of dread worms through him and he shivers.
"Neville," he says quietly, knowing it is too quiet for the other man to hear even if he was in the same room, and stands in front of the bathroom door frozen with indecision and a bit of fear.
He swallows thickly; Draco's health sharply declined, suddenly and with little warning, about a week ago and he's terrified of what he'll find. He whimpers softly, dropping the empty bottle carelessly to the floor and shifts Amanda with unconscious instinct to his shoulder. He pats her back softly, shifting from foot to foot trying to work up the courage to move. He reaches out but his hand just hovers over the door knob, shaking slightly. A soft glow of light is visible just under the door and he still can't bring himself to move. "Neville," he whispers, this time with relief when the other man eases into the room and walks over and stands next to him.
Neville woke with a start, looking around with confusion. None of the alarms he set before he went to bed have gone off and he can't figure out why he's woken up. He eased out of bed and quietly padded down the hallway to Harry and Draco's room and slowly opened the door when the knob easily turned. He paused when he saw Harry standing in front of the bathroom door, a look of indecision and fear on his face as he held Amanda close to his chest. "Harry," he says quietly, reaching out a hand and placing it gently on his arm. "Is everything alright?" His eyes flick to the bathroom door and a terrible feeling of dread works through him when he sees the soft light shining under the door. Everything clicks terribly into place and he sways a bit on his feet.
Harry slowly turns to Neville. "I don't know," he whispers, his voice strained. He doesn't protest when Neville eases Amanda out of his arms and just watches Neville sit in the padded chair he feeds Amanda in, patting her back with a gentle hand. He slowly turns back to the door. "I can't," he whispers in an agonized voice, wringing his hands with jerky movements. He should go in; what if Draco is hurt and needs help? His dithering could mean all the difference. Draco's balance and strength have both decreased rapidly and he's already fallen a few times. Graphic images of What If flash through his mind and he whimpers softly.
"Do you want me to?" Neville offers, rubbing small, gentle circles on Amanda's back as she drifts off with a soft burp, full and satisfied. He spares a moment of envy for his goddaughter; he wishes he hadn't a clue what was going on in the world, not having a care past a clean bum and a full belly. He has no real desire to see what could be in that room but he hates the idea of Harry seeing it even more. He watches Harry shift from foot to foot and he's about to stand and put Amanda in her bassinet when Harry finally answers.
Harry shakes his head and slowly moves forward, his hand pausing over the doorknob for a long moment before he takes a deep breath and turns it. He eases into the room before slamming the door open the rest of way and rushing in, dropping to his knees unmindful of the sharp pain that shoots up from his knees as he lands on the tiles. "Draco!" he cries. His breath comes in sharp little pants as he looks down at his husband, his hands waving a bit with helplessness and indecision. Draco is lying motionless in an awkward position on the floor, too still to bring any comfort, and Harry hasn't any idea what to do. He doesn't know if he should move him. He makes a distressed noise and shuffles closer on his knees, pulling Draco's head into his lap.
Neville closes his eyes, a pained breath leaving him at Harry's agonized wail. He gets up and gently places Amanda in her bassinet, smoothing a hand over her messy hair and tucking her in, making sure she's asleep before heading towards the bathroom. He stops in the doorway and his heart stops for a long, painful second as he takes in the scene before him. Harry is on the floor, crying almost hysterically and muttering 'Draco' over and over, running a hand through limp, pale hair. He staggers back a few steps, barely catching himself on the doorjamb. Draco is pale, an unnatural color and he can't tell if the blonde is breathing or not.
Harry can't breathe, his chest feels like it's ripping open and he's barely restraining the urge to shake Draco like rag doll to get him to move, talk, breathe, anything. He's shaking so bad he can't tell if Draco's moving or not. "Draco," he whispers, patting his pale, gaunt cheek in an effort to rouse him. He absently wipes his tears off with the back of his hand, rocking a bit as he kneels on the floor.
"Harry," Neville says softly, unable to speak above a whisper, and carefully shuffles closer. He doesn't know how many times he calls Harry before he finally looks up, his green eyes red rimmed, full of pain and devastation. "Harry," he says and kneels next to him. "I think we need to floo Hermione," he says, no matter how much he hates the idea of leaving Harry alone.
Harry shudders, gratefully leaning into Neville's embrace when he feels an arm wrap tightly around his shoulders. He turns into Neville's embrace, his free hand fisting tightly in Neville's sleep shirt. He knows they need to call Hermione but he can't stand being on his own at the moment. He holds onto Draco, his fingers wound tightly in his hair. He nods slowly, realizing with a sick sense of dismay his tight grip causes no reaction at all. He'd give anything for a shriek and a stern warning about mussing the pale perfection. "Just... give me a minute, please," he whispers. He gives a great shuddering sigh when he feels Neville nod. He slowly regains some composure and he leans up. "OK," he whispers. He's vaguely aware that Neville stands, moving away and out of the bathroom but he focuses only on watching Draco's chest. Is it moving?
Hermione rushes through the floo, barely sparing a moment to put on her robe, the second she heard Neville's choked voice in her floo. She didn't need the man to tell her why she was wanted. She grabbed her wand, her healer bag and stepped through immediately, pausing only to hug Neville tightly. "Where?" she asks quietly.
Neville can only point, a lump in his throat. He accepts another hug from Hermione and follows the witch slowly, both unwilling to see again and hating leaving Harry alone any longer than necessary. The warring feelings make his head throb and he shuffles back into the room.
"Oh," Hermione says quietly as she steps in the dimly lit bathroom, the sound coming out more like a sigh; soft and hushed. She covers her mouth with her hands, grief nearly overwhelming her as she takes in the scene before her. She slowly approaches Harry, her hand resting on the top of his head for a second before she kneels down and crushes him in a hug. She can't find words and when he pulls away, she sees Harry doesn't expect any. Honestly; What is there to say? She turns to Neville after a long moment, "Maybe some tea, yeah?" she asks quietly. She slowly draws her wand from her sleeve but won't do anything with it until both men leave. She give's Neville's hand a squeeze and a look that she hopes conveys her feelings of shared grief and loss, nodding thankfully when Neville pulls Harry up and into a tight embrace, drawing him away.
Harry pauses, just inside the doorway and glances back before a warm hand is cupping his chin and turning his head away again. He doesn't fight it, just sighs and allows himself to be lead. He really shouldn't torture himself like this but he doesn't want to believe his eyes.
"C'mon, I'll make tea," Neville says softly. He pauses only long enough to make sure the alarm charm is still active over Amanda's bassinet and silently leads Harry to the kitchen. He watches sadly as Harry lowers himself onto the stool and he has to turn around. His hands go into the familiar motions as he makes tea, leaving his brain trying to find something else to focus on. He can't believe this is happening; he'd foolishly hoped that expecting it would lessen the grief and sick sense of unreality. His chest constricts painfully and he's not sure who sobs first. He sets the teabags in to steep and circles the small island to stand in front of Harry.
Harry looks up and immediately grabs Neville, not caring at all if it's wrong or not; he needs his comfort. He gives Neville comfort as well, so maybe it's alright. He sobs soundlessly, his chest heaving painfully as Neville holds him and supports nearly all his weight. He runs a hand down Neville's back when the other wizard buries his face in Harry's neck and sobs brokenly. He doesn't know if he can comfort Neville enough, but he tries and he's grateful Neville is trying as well. After long moments, they slowly separate and Neville summons their mugs. They slump on their stools, waiting. Waiting for word from Hermione. Waiting for Amanda to wake up. Waiting for something to happen that'll make this seem like less of a nightmare. They both look up with matching carefully blank expressions on their faces when they hear soft footsteps.
"I'm sorry Harry, Neville," Hermione says softly. "He's alive; breathing, but only just…" she trails off sadly, her eyes watering. She takes a deep breath. "I'm afraid he's in a coma. I don't know if it's magical or just…" she pauses, unable to finish the thought. "I don't know what to do," she whispers, her brown eyes shiny with tears. "I know what I would do, what I would recommend as a healer but this…" she shakes her head, angry at the sudden loss and at her inability to give Harry the advice he needs. It's little comfort that Draco lasted longer than any other patient with a similar diagnosis. It didn't give a baby her father back and it didn't give her best friend his husband back.
"He didn't want any drastic measures taken," Harry says quietly, leaning against Neville gratefully when he feels an arm around him again. "He… he…" he trails off, shaking his head, unable to finish. "Ask Blaise," he finally whispers. Everything, down to each and every possibility, was listed in his final wishes and he can't remember what Draco wanted in case of coma but he can guess. There was nothing, baring a miracle cure, that he wanted done to prolong his life. "Is there any chance?" he asks quietly, looking up at Hermione.
Hermione gazes back, her chest painfully thudding and squeezing at the completely devastated look on Harry's face. She can't lie and the truth hurts "No, Harry. Not for the reasons he went into the coma, there's very little, if any, chance of recovery. Fuck," she whispers, wrapping her arms around both men tightly. "I'm so sorry."
Harry can only nod. He's sorry, too. They huddle close again, each hugging and offering whatever comfort they can. It's not enough but it helps. For now.
…o…
Harry sits in an uncomfortably padded chair, blank faced and numb, shifting a bit awkwardly in his scratchy suit. His eyes flick occasionally to the elegant silver urn at the front of the room on an equally elegant stand but he looks through it. A large, tasteful photo of Draco is suspended behind it and he can't take his eyes off of it for long. He nearly kissed Blaise for the photo choice; it was one from their private wedding ceremony and Draco practically glows with smug happiness. His stark grey eyes are practically sparkling as they stare out of the moving photo and his pale hair blew about his face, almost creating a halo, in a gentle breeze. A small but extremely pleased smile graces his pale, handsome face and he looks to the left, where Harry remembers he was standing. He watches transfixed as those gorgeous grey eyes soften and shine with love and adoration. He didn't care he wasn't present in the picture or that it felt too personal to show to others before; it's the perfect picture to show this last time.
He'd been a bit surprised by the nearly Muggle ceremony, but having little knowledge in wizarding practices he couldn't say if it was odd or not. He hadn't been surprised in his husbands wishes. He thought it a bit morbid to be expected to retain his... urn but he felt oddly comforted by it, nonetheless. Plus, Draco had a bit of an irrational fear of grave-robbers that would either deface his final resting place or try to steal pieces of him for nefarious potions. He'd rolled his eyes, snorting with amusement for the first time in weeks when Blaise made him pick the urn, sharing with him Draco's reasoning.
There weren't a lot of long speeches from a religious man and he finds that a bit of a relief. Instead, close friends and family stood, saying kind words or sharing stories. He isn't surprised by how many people's lives were touched by Draco, good or bad. Few brought up unpleasant memories and if they did it was only to lead into one that was happier or even humorous. He'd briefly said his peace, uncaring how short and unfeeling it sounded to anyone listening. For over 6 months, not a day went by without him telling Draco he was loved, cherished and would be missed. He couldn't bring himself to utter those words to a gathering of mostly strangers.
He shifts Amanda up on his shoulder, snuggling into her fresh scent and warmth. He sighs, leaning against Neville when the other man wraps an arm around his waist. He hates that people stare at them. He hates that his friendship with Neville is drawing people's attention away from the urn or the breathtakingly beautiful image. He hates all of it but he can't and won't ask Neville to back away. He won't ask Neville to stop giving him comfort. He refuses to give a shit about the gossips and the irritating people that only know how to whisper and poke their noses into where they didn't belong.
"Are you alright?"
"No," Harry says honestly, his face feeling stiff. He's not sure he's able to cry anymore and absently wonders if he's reached some sort of limit on his body's ability to produce tears. He wonders if people are thinking he's a heartless bastard since he's not crying at his husband's memorial service with another man's arm around him. He slowly looks over at Neville, giving him a small smile. He sees grief and pain on his face too and he knows people won't understand. "But I will be," he says quietly, shifting his daughter again so he can look into her peaceful face. His smile grows a bit when he feels Neville's chin on his shoulder, knowing the other man is looking down at his daughter as well. He stills as sleepy blue-grey eyes blink, looking back at him for a long moment and scrunch with displeasure as the wails start. He quickly fishes a bottle out of the diaper bag he's taken to carrying, trying to hurry so his daughter's cries don't attract more attention. He'd been able to keep her out of the public view and he intends to keep it that way. He wandlessly casts a mild heating charm, long ago mastering how strong to make it but he still tests it. He watches as little fingers reach for the bottle clumsily as he guides it to her mouth.
Neville watches Amanda suck greedily on her bottle before his gaze is drawn to the morbidly beautiful silver urn a few feet away. His heart is torn up both for Harry and himself. He's only missing a good friend but Harry... he shakes his head and watches Harry feed Amanda for awhile longer. He notices the familiar movements from the corner of his eye of Amanda being placed on Harry's shoulder so he helps Harry pack away the baby things and shoulders the bag as he slowly stands. He didn't want to go to some party full of people offering empty sympathy. "I don't want to go," he says quietly, looking through the large windows to eye the line of somber black limos waiting to take them to some classy, expensive restaurant for the luncheon. He honestly could understand celebrating a loved one's life but most of those people attending barely knew Draco. As least, they barely knew him in the same way as he or Harry did. He sneers; gossips and social clingers just looking for connections or a free lunch are not who he wants to be around.
"Me neither," Harry admits. The only people who give him comfort are already with him, with the exception of Hermione. Well... Blaise and Pansy have both been surprisingly comforting as well. He'd noticed their reddened eyes but didn't comment on it, just hugged them both much to their shock. He smiles a bit when Hermione seems to glide across the room in her severe black dress, a veil over her face and a stark white handkerchief clutched tightly in her fist. He folds her into a tight hug, only letting go when Amanda squawks indignantly when she gets a bit squished. "Hey Mione," he says, sniffling wetly. Apparently, he isn't out of tears. They leak from his eyes, dripping from his chin. He smiles softly when Hermione dabs at his face with a spare handkerchief, tucking it into his suit pocket when she's cleaned him up a bit.
Hermione sniffles, lifting her veil delicately to dab at her eyes with the handkerchief. "Harry, Neville," she says, hugging each man again briefly. "Amanda," she coos, tickling her goddaughter under the chin and smiling brightly for a moment when Amanda gurgles and her fists wiggle a bit. She didn't know what else to say. Sorry? Lovely service? Both are true but completely lacking in describing the depth of her feelings, falling a bit flat and unable to express the true depth of her sorrow and grief. If she didn't think Harry already knew this, she'd panic and probably start babbling all sorts of nonsense. Instead, she offers a smile, grabs Amanda from Harry and heads towards the nearest apparation point. Knowing Harry and Neville, they're skipping the luncheon and would rather get ice cream. She smiles when each of them wrap and arm about her waist or shoulder and there is a soft call of "Ice cream!". Neville pauses only long enough to summon the beautiful urn, gently cradling it in the crook of his elbow.
With a soft crack, they leave the building full of well-wishers.
People look around briefly, trying to spot Harry and the baby or Hermione or even Neville, but the crowd slowly disperses and limos pull away. Blaise and Pansy share a small smile and climb into the back of a waiting limo. Sure, they'd rather bugger off and sneak some ice cream too, joining the newly befriended trio, but they can't bear to not be witness to the circus that is sure to follow. Pansy discretely wipes a tear from her eye and smiles a bit when Blaise gives her hand a gentle squeeze.