No Light Without Shadows
by Draeconin
See Chapter One for disclaimer and details.
Chapter Twelve
Draco was so relieved as to be almost limp. He was'nt pregnant. Since tomorrow was Hogmanay1, Sixth and Seventh Years had been allowed to go to Diagon Alley instead of just to Hogsmeade like the lower years. Draco had made a pretence to get away from Harry, and had gone to find one of the medi-witches who practised illegally in Knockturn Alley; he'd be recognised at the medical practice he and Harry had used before. He'd even gone so far as to colour-charm his hair, eyes, and skin to reduce the chance of being recognised.
It was a calumny that all the tradesmen and shoppers in Knockturn Alley were Dark: shady, perhaps – purveyers of goods and/or services which most folk don't speak of in polite society, but which are nevertheless needed from time to time – but not Dark. However, the more illegal items and services could also be found, if one knew where to look.
The medi-witches here were either too old to continue a full-time job at a legal medical establishment, or had been unable to be licensed for one reason or another. Those reasons could range from being caught in an unethical act, cheating on a test, or merely not being one hundred percent human . . . all the time.
Still, the scare had upset him. Draco needed to find a way to make sure he could continue having 'relations' with Harry without fear of pregnancy.
Harry found Draco strangely silent as they finished their shopping, volunteering little on his own, and answering questions mostly in monosyllables. But the blond was subject to these moods from time to time. They were usually short-lived, so Harry tolerated them.
When they got back to Hogwarts, the first thing Harry did was check on the egg. It was still warm and seemed to be doing fine, but showed no sign of hatching yet.
A week went by, and it seemed Draco had become rather more introspective and taken with absent-mindedness – or daydreaming: and since their visit to Diagon Alley, more irritable and impatient with any demands on his attention. However when he was asked, the blond refused to divulge the reason or reasons for his cantankerous behaviour.
This both puzzled and irritated Harry, and his own temper began to get shorter. Fortunately for Harry's temper, a couple of days later, a Saturday, the phoenix egg showed its first sign of hatching – a rather loud tapping sound.
Harry, of course, had researched everything he could find about phoenix hatchings and hatchlings, but it turned out that if anyone in the wizarding world knew more than the centaurs, they hadn't written it in any book that could be found in the Hogwarts library – even the restricted section, which he had perused with the help of his invisibility cloak.
So Harry had absolutely no idea how long it would take the phoenix chick to hatch. As a result, he immediately summoned a house elf and had a bowl of finely chopped fresh meat delivered to his room, as well as a small platter of minced vegetables and mashed berries, so the chick could choose what it liked. He then fetched Draco.
In retrospect, he might have wanted to reverse his priorities and have called Draco first. But he ignored his husband's bad temper, other than to hug the blond to him and lavish him with little pets and kisses as he anxiously watched the egg.
Three hours later, the beak finally broke through the shell. Draco was all for helping the chick get free, being impatient of any more waiting, but Harry had read that such 'help' was bad for the chicks of most birds, either making it a weaker bird, or actually killing it, and he assumed it would be true for a phoenix, too,2 so he restrained his mate while he explained this to him.
"Hmph!" was Draco's irritable response. "I'm going to take a bath; let me know if the bloody thing ever gets free."
Harry followed Draco's departing form with a puzzled, worried frown. He almost followed him into the bathroom to try to make him feel better – and would have, if he hadn't had to watch over the phoenix egg. When it was free, he had to feed it and tend to it. All the same, he felt a bit torn about the decision.
"Draco!" he called after the blond. When Draco stopped and turned to look impatiently at Harry, Harry softly said, "I love you," willing Draco to hear the truth of that statement. Draco's face softened, and his eyes became suspiciously shiny just before he turned and entered Harry's bathroom.
With Harry's declaration, despite how he'd been treating his husband, it was just now occurring to him that he needn't go through all this worry alone. Harry could help him research solutions! The relief of that realisation, as well as a little guilt for how he'd been treating Harry, was a bit overwhelming.
In the meantime, he'd continue to use 'the morning after' spell . . . just in case. He felt rather ridiculous using a spell on himself that was meant for sexually active females, but he wasn't about to take chances.
Harry stared at the egg, still wanting to go after Draco – then slapped his forehead. There was nothing whatsoever to prevent him from taking the egg with him! Suiting action to thought, he carefully gathered up the egg in its pot and the tray of food for the chick when it hatched, and took them into the bathroom, catching Draco just starting to take down his pants.
Draco stopped and raised an eyebrow at his husband.
"Don't let me stop you," Harry said with a grin. "I love a good strip show." But instead of watching Draco, he set about making a safe spot for his precious cargo in a corner of the bathroom.
"In front of the child?" Draco drawled.
"Mm... Too young to know what he's seeing – or care, likely," Harry replied. He loved Draco's dry sense of humour.
Draco skinned out of his pants, then walked over to Harry and pressed his naked body against Harry's clothed one, wanting to show his appreciation for Harry's support.
Their kiss was long, sensuous, and steamy.
When they parted, Harry groaned, his erection painfully hard with his excitement and desire. "Damn: this is so unfair. You can't wait for me?"
Draco reached up and started unbuttoning Harry's robe. He had prevailed upon the former Gryffindor to stop wearing muggle clothing under it – he was trying to acclimate his lover to wizarding ways – but Harry had yet to get used to wearing the under-robes he'd bought, so as each button came undone more skin was revealed, which Draco kissed as it became available. When it was loose enough, he slipped the robe off Harry's shoulders, and Harry let it slip to the floor, then quickly stripped his shoes, socks, and pants off, too. Draco pulled Harry after him into the steamy shower, and then cast "Nox" before setting his wand aside.
Harry was intrigued. They'd made love in the shower before, but not in the dark. Very interesting situation, he started to think, before Draco started sliding down his body. The blond laved Harry's erection with his tongue before moving on down to his husband's bollocks, licking them well and then sucking each egg-shaped orb into his mouth for a little extra attention. He loved hearing Harry's moans and the way his husband's hand moved through his wet hair, gently urging him on to greater efforts. Draco cradled the precious eggs in one hand as his tongue licked its way up the strong, fleshy column before him, and then swallowed half of Harry's erection, gently sucking and swirling his tongue around it.
When Draco had also swallowed Harry's come, Harry hauled his lover to his feet and kissed him fiercely, tasting his own ejaculate in the blond's mouth, at the same time reaching down to grasp Draco's length, alternately stroking it and playing with his husband's bollocks, gently grasping them just to the point of pain before he gentled them and moved back to Draco's cock, over and over again, also sucking on his lover's neck and ears, until the blond orgasmed, and then fell slowly to his knees, Harry's torso gently sliding from his grasp, until the side of his face was pressed into Harry's groin.
"Lumos," Harry incanted – without his wand, but the lights came up anyway. Harry stroked Draco's head until his lover had recovered, and then helped him to his feet, kissing him again. Harry just held Draco close under the spray of warm water for a long time – and then they heard a piece of eggshell break off.
"Sorry, love," Harry apologised as he scrambled to get out of the shower, and dry. "But it looks like the little one is just a tad impatient."
It actually took most of another hour before the chick was free of its shell, with Harry hovering over it, starkers, the whole time.
In spite of being slightly piqued, Draco had leisurely got out of the shower when he'd finished washing. He'd dried off, and even bent over with his buttocks practically in Harry's face, and got no reaction. He walked out in a huff, got dressed, then came back in and threw a robe at Harry. It had draped half over Harry's face, and he had just absently removed it, letting it fall to the floor, his gaze fixed raptly on the hatching egg. Disgusted, Draco wandered off to find something else to do.
"Draco! It hatched!" Harry's voice exclaimed from the bathroom some time later. He got no reply. "Draco?"
Harry walked out of the bathroom, carefully cradling the phoenix chick in one hand as he fed it from the handful of chopped meat and berries he'd hastily scooped up. The room was vacant. He walked over to the mirror/door and eased it open a crack, in case Draco had guests.
"Draco?" he called out when he didn't hear anything. Silence was his answer.
"Well," he said to the chick, closing the connecting door again, "seems my bird has flown the coop." He occupied himself with feeding the chick in front of the fire for a time, thinking of the family he and Draco would have, and finally starting to worry about that development before his concentration was broken.
"For the sake of the gods, get some clothes on, Potter!" an irritated voice exclaimed.
"Professor!" Harry exclaimed. Remembering he was still naked, and that there was a clean robe on the floor in the other room, he dashed into the bathroom. A minute later Harry came back out, dressed in the robe Draco had thoughtfully brought him.
"May I introduce you, Professor, to a little custom that I like to call 'knocking'?" Harry sarcastically remarked. And why the hell hadn't the portal guardian kept the greasy git out – or at least announced him?
"Shut your gob, Potter. You'll want to go to the infirmary," Snape said.
"Yes?" Harry said defiantly, but sudden worry had made itself known.
"It's young Malfoy."
"Draco? What happened?" Harry demanded.
"If you can walk and talk at the same time, Potter," Snape growled.
Harry hadn't put shoes on, but he didn't even consider it as he pushed past his Head of House and started walking quickly in the direction of the stairs.
"Well?" he demanded again.
"He was tripped on the stairs."
"Who?"
"The matter is being taken care of, Potter."
"Who?" Harry asked again, concentrating on where he was going, not looking at the professor. His eyes had turned golden with the news of Draco being tripped. Now an electrical charge was quickly building up around him, his hair standing on end, sparks jumping from the tips. It would have been a comical sight, had the danger Harry represented at that moment not been so dire.
The chick Harry was still carrying peeped.
"Hell, yes! Of course I'm angry," Harry replied without thinking, bounding up the stairs as he came to them.
It peeped again.
"Well, he's my husband!" Harry exclaimed. "And you know that!"
"Have you finally lost your mind, Potter?" Snape demanded.
"Then stop asking me stupid questions!"
"I haven't asked anything, Potter," Snape said scathingly.
'Peep!'
Harry came to a brief stop as he gave the chick an intense look. It stared back at him. "Oh, bloody hell," was his decided opinion. "It's the bird."
'Peep.'
"Not now," Harry replied, again almost flying through the corridors. "I promise I'll talk to you later, but I'm in a bit of a hurry right now."
'Peep!'
When Harry didn't reply, it almost managed a screech.
"Damn! All right, then!" Harry said, coming to a stop. "You needn't yell like that."
Snape was watching Harry carefully, wondering if he really was communicating with the chick, or had lost his mind, as he suspected. The boy always was too flighty... He winced at his unintentional mental pun.
Harry brought the chick up to eye level, and they stared into each other's eyes for several seconds. Then Harry seemed to get darker, became shadow-like, and disappeared.
"Potter! What are you playing at now?" Snape exclaimed. "Make yourself visible at once!" he demanded, when he got no reply. Nothing happened this time, either. Furious, he determined to give Potter a detention next he saw the infuriating brat, and continued on his way to the infirmary.
When he got there, he saw Potter perched on Draco's bed as Madam Pomfrey fussed over the blond and tried to get Harry to leave. It looked like Potter had been there for a few minutes already. How the bloody hell had he done that?
The chick was on the bed too, looking between the boys as they talked, Harry's head hovering disturbingly close to Draco's: too close for Snape's comfort level. And then Harry leant down and gently kissed Draco on the forehead. Snape sneered in distaste at the sight.
Draco had been pretty well bunged up. It was mostly bruises that were quickly fading with Pomfrey's spellwork, but there was a large goose-egg just above Draco's temple, and he'd suffered a sprain of one wrist. No broken bones, so he'd got off rather lightly, and his other injuries would be healed by the next morning. Indeed, Draco could have been killed if he'd fallen off the stairs entirely.
"Potter! Detention!" Snape snarled.
Harry's head whipped around. "For what?" he demanded.
"Not obeying a professor's orders, for a start," Snape replied stiffly.
"What orders?"
"To make yourself visible after you cast that invisibility spell, of course!"
"Professor," Harry said with exaggerated patience, "I did not cast an invisibility spell; I used a faster form of transportation."
'Peep?'
"Yes, I believe so," Harry said to the chick.
"What?" Draco asked.
"He asked if Snape could be trusted," Harry replied.
"Of all the bloody nerve!" Snape exploded.
"Well you can hardly blame him, Professor," Harry responded, trying to suppress a smirk. "He's only just hatched, after all, and has never you 'til now."
Draco snickered, and then winced as the movement aggravated his headache, which hadn't yet responded to the headache potion.
It turned out that there had been quite a few students on the stairs at the time of the incident, and Draco wasn't sure who had tripped him.
Madam Pomfrey kept Draco in the infirmary for another day just to make sure that his body was stable and that he hadn't suffered any cranial damage that had escaped her notice.
While Draco was there, Harry was also, as much as he could be. He'd been warned against skipping classes after the first few. And Draco unburdened himself of his doubts and fears to Harry regarding their future and hidden enemies. Harry told Draco of his, and they both reassured each other that they wouldn't do anywhere nearly as badly as they feared.
"Bloody hell," Harry swore quietly a few weeks later as he tried to struggle into his school robes.
"What's wrong, Harry?" Draco asked from Harry's bed. Although he always entered his own rooms at night – trying to be seen doing so as often as would be believable – his own bed was never slept in any longer.
Harry looked at his husband. He loved Draco's tousled, 'just shagged' look first thing in the morning. Not that he'd say so: Draco would throw a fit.
"I think I've grown again," Harry complained. "These things are too tight." But he just managed to fasten them. Although if he took a deep breath...
Draco looked him over. "Bloody hell, Harry, what have you been doing to yourself?" The change had to have been gradual, otherwise he was sure he would have noticed. And yet he felt he should have noticed Harry's clothing fitting him badly before now, if that was the case.
"What?" Harry asked, irritated. "They weren't this tight yesterday!" he said defensively.
"You may have grown half an inch or so, but you've . . . filled out!" Draco exclaimed. "Your robe's too tight across the shoulders. So what have you been doing?"
Harry shrugged, embarrassed – and his robe split about eight inches down the seam between his shoulder blades. Harry winced at the sound, but his robe was more comfortable, now.
"Ah . . . I've been taking a bit of exercise," Harry said, his cheeks a bit pink as he started taking off the ruined school robe. Maybe he shouldn't have had them tailored so close to his body.
"Why?" Draco asked, perplexed.
Scáthfánaí, the phoenix chick, strutted in. Due to the first thing the tiny phoenix had taught him, Harry had done a little research, and called him 'shadow rambler' (the Irish for 'shadow walker' being too cumbersome either in that language or any other Celtic language).
Most of Scáthfánaí's adult plumage had grown in by this time. All he was missing were his flight feathers and tail plumage. He was a Night Phoenix. The main body of the bird was a midnight blue, the feathers burnished with ice blue, as well as his head being that colour, as opposed to a fire phoenix' red and gold.
Scáthfánaí trilled at Harry. That, at least, wasn't different. Scáthfánaí and Fawkes sang essentially the same patterns, although their voices were slightly different.
"So this is your fault?" Harry said in response to the phoenix.
Scáthfánaí trilled a slightly different melody.
"What if I wanted to take it slow?" Harry asked exasperatedly. "You could have at least asked me – or warned me!"
"Harry!" Draco exclaimed. "I was talking to you first, if you don't mind!"
Harry turned a sheepish countenance to his husband. "Sorry, love."
"Now are you going to tell me why you've been – one would assume – working out and sweating like a ruddy barbarian?" the blond asked.
"Well if there's going to be a battle, I don't want to be too tired to move before it's half begun, do I?" Harry replied.
"So you've been building up your stamina?"
Scáthfánaí trilled.
"Don't be rude," Harry said to him as he used the charm Madam Malkin had taught him to enlarge another robe.
"And yes, I have been," he replied to Draco.
"What did that overgrown chicken say?" Draco asked, shooting an evil glare at Scáthfánaí.
Scáthfánaí squawked loudly at Draco.
"It's not bottle-blonde," Harry protested. And he should know, having just a bit earlier been down where hair coloration wasn't usually practised.
"Why you twice-dyed canary!" Draco exclaimed, getting to his feet and immediately going for the phoenix at a run. "I'll pluck you bare for that!"
Scáthfánaí squawked defiantly at Draco, and disappeared just as it appeared Draco would have him by the neck.
"Damn it!" Draco swore as he looked quickly around for his escaped prey.
"Draco!" Harry said, pretending shock at the blond's language, while he admired his lover's naked form.
Draco glared at him. "You had to accept that damned egg, didn't you?" he accused.
Harry grinned at him. "Yep!" he said happily.
"If he hadn't taught you shadow walking..." Draco said in dire tones.
"And jumping..." Harry added as he pulled on the enlarged robe. It had been good, thick wool, so it was still comfortable, but he might need to use a warming charm once in awhile until he could get new clothes.
"When's he going to teach you how to take a side-along?" Draco asked impatiently. "I want to go shopping!"
Harry glanced ruefully down at the ripped robe. "I don't think we'll need shadow jumping to go shopping, love," he said. "If I don't, I'm going to be out of uniform."
"D'you think you can talk Dumbledore into letting me tag along?"
"What are you needing?"
Draco grimaced. "Oh, just a few minor things. I could use more ink." Actually he just wanted a change of scenery, and shopping was a great way to do that, for him.
Scáthfánaí trilled from atop one of the wardrobes.
"He is not! He's the same size he's always been!" Harry exclaimed in response. "And stop being mean to him!"
"He said I look fat, didn't he?" Draco said mutinously, surreptitiously drawing his wand to him from the bedside table.
"Draco," Harry said warningly, "he's only teasing, you know."
"I won't kill him, Harry," Draco promised, "just pluck a few feathers to teach him some manners."
Harry looked sternly at him. "No."
Draco threw his wand on the bed, then petulantly threw himself on it as well.
Scáthfánaí, meanwhile, had quietly shadow-jumped to another portion of the room.
Harry's heart melted at the sight of his pouting lover, and went over to him, pulling Draco into a cuddle. "He's just at that 'bratty little brother' stage, love," Harry explained. "He should grow out of it in a few weeks."
Draco didn't stop pouting, but he did cuddle into Harry's arms.
"I swear, Harry," Draco complained, "sometimes I think you favour that blasted bird over me."
"Never, love," Harry said soothingly, placing a kiss on Draco's brow. "Having sex with him would be very awkward," he teased.
Draco hit Harry's shoulder hard for that remark. "So when are we going shopping?" Draco asked, a trace of impatience in his voice.
Harry laughed, and hugged Draco to him, hard. "We'll have to ask for special dispensation, first," he replied, "and you still need to get dressed!"
"It's not getting done sitting here," Draco informed him, but he was grinning, happy to have made Harry laugh, even if it was unintentional.
Harry was grinning, too. He knew that neither Scáthfánaí nor Draco really meant what they said – they just liked sniping at each other. It was too bad that Draco was at a disadvantage, not being able to understand the phoenix. It slowed him down, having to have Harry translate via his 'responses' to Scáthfánaí.
Snape actually made Harry put on the robe to prove he hadn't ripped it on purpose. Once Harry had, however, he passed them on to Dumbledore, who gave Harry permission to go, and gave Draco permission to accompany him – ostensibly as backup in case of trouble.
Actually Harry would be safer on his own, since he could shadow walk out of any dangerous situation. Since he hadn't yet learned how to take someone else with him, and since he'd never leave Draco alone in a dangerous situation, the blond would actually be more of a liability if there was danger. But Draco was the only person who knew of Harry's new ability, and Harry liked it like that. And since his lover wanted to go anyway...
But while they were spotted at Madam Malkins', the Death Eater attack team that was finally assembled arrived in Diagon Alley just a little too late to execute their mission. The group created some mayhem and destruction anyway, since they were there, killing one and injuring several others, but they were severely 'reprimanded' when they returned – via the Cruciatus Curse – for their failure to capture either of the boys.
Draco had been greatly admiring Harry's form when he was only partially clothed. While Harry did have a wider breadth of shoulder and deepness of chest, an abundance of obvious muscle had not come along with it. Oh, there was muscle in plenty, and whipcord strong, but it slid deceptively under the skin, presenting a smoothly sculpted look instead of being bulky. And yes, Harry had grown again – all in the leg, necessitating the ordering of more trousers, as well as the school robes, the latter of which could be delivered in only a few hours. The trousers would be another day or two.
Draco had discussed fabrics and styles with Madam Malkin and had taken some pictures with him when they left, but hadn't decided what to buy, yet.
Harry's longer legs and wider upper torso made Harry's waist look very narrow indeed, and Draco found the whole effect nearly breathtaking. Yes, Draco decided to himself, he was very glad to be gay, if he could sleep next to that. He loved Harry, although he usually refrained from saying so – ostensibly for fear of Harry getting a large head – but he didn't mind in the least the bonus features that seemed to be developing.
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1: Hogmanay : Scottish New Year's Eve (January 2nd)
2: This is true of mundane birds. Never 'help' one hatch.
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Betas: Dawn B., Sheree S., Ishe-Leigh (who also brainstorm with me on occasion). Brit-picker: Andy