A/N: Yes! I have finally updated not one but three chapters of this. These have been written for a very long time. I only briefly spell checked them, so I apologize if they're weird in any way.
Being Draco Malfoy
Chapter 2: Running
Three Weeks Earlier...
Draco was gone and Harry just couldn't process it.
Where had it all gone wrong? For Harry, these last two years had been the best of his life. Had they really thought this could work? The son of a death eater and the Boy Who Lived? It was laughable.
And laugh he did. Laughed until his throat ran raw and his eyes were barely slits, red and dry from salted tears. Who would have thought that one single man could bring the savior of the wizarding world to his knees. He had survived abuse, starvation, numerous murder attempts, the death of almost everyone who ever meant anything to him and two wars. And somehow Draco was the only person left on this goddamned earth that could hurt him. Isn't that how it had always been? He knew just where to hit Harry, how to crawl beneath his skin driving him to the farthest end of hatred to the highest point of love.
Harry knew deep inside that he would never get over Draco. That single fact alone terrified him more than any Dark Lord ever could. A cold air settled around him and he briefly registered what was happening. Voldemort himself would rejoice from his grave if he could see him now. Harry Potter was dead inside. He died the moment Draco became Draco Malfoy.
It was just another day full of empty hours, empty conversations, and breathing. Nothing had meaning anymore. He was doing what he had to do. Anything to keep his mind off of Draco. So what if he was feeling sorry for himself? He was allowed that after what he'd been through. He put the tea kettle on and nibbled on a piece of toast.
With great satisfaction, he had already incendioed the Daily Prophet which contained a picture of the "Greatest Match in Recent History" displayed in the middle of the Society pages that he had to pass in order to get to the Sports pages. Draco and his fiancé Astoria. It was a joke. What kind of name was Astoria anyway?
Truthfully, he hadn't really left the house in three weeks. Only to go to work and come home from one of his missions covered in filth and fall into restless sleep. With the exception of the previous weekend when Seamus and Dean dragged him out to the clubs. It predictably ended in disaster.
Seamus had come over with Dean and convinced Harry that the best way to get him over the prat who dumped him was to go out and have the slummingest, dirtiest, best time of his life. Show him he didn't need him. None of his friends had any idea who the mystery ex was. They dressed him in skin tight clothes, lined his eyes in charcoal black, spelled his hair and pumped him full of fire whiskey before taking him out into the night.
Harry was completely sloshed and ended up with some bloke whose name he couldn't even remember who shagged him hard and fast up against a dirty stone wall. As the unknown man ripped through him, he felt like he was being fucked free from the indifference that had taken over his life. So Harry fucked him back. He held onto his hair a little harder, moaned a little louder and pretended he was with someone who loved him just so he could feel something.
He could still feel the man's breath on his neck whispering to him how really gorgeous he was and how tight his arse was. When the man finally grunted and lost himself inside Harry, only then did he let himself come back down and the tears started falling. The man was rather nice about the
whole thing; helping Harry floo home and even leaving his number on the nightstand which for some reason made Harry feel even worse.
On top of it all, he had been vomiting and feeling ill for a few weeks and he couldn't even remember the last time he had a proper meal. It took all he had to peel himself off the tiled bathroom floor that morning and get dressed. He heard a 'pop' sound through the room. He looked up only to see Kreacher looking at him disapprovingly.
"Master is not eating again.", the ancient elf said.
"I'm not hungry.", Harry replied gruffly.
"Master is being sick. He is not listening when Kreacher says he should go see healer. Master is being very naughty. Kreacher thinks he must go to mudblood Granger and tell her.", his large eyes narrowing.
"I told you to stop calling her that. And you wouldn't dare or else it's socks for you.", Harry snapped.
Kreacher looked visibly upset at the mention of receiving clothes. "Hmph. Still, master must eat.", he stated firmly. "Kreacher will be back with more nutritious food." With another soft pop he was gone again.
Not wanting to deal with Kreacher's nagging again, Harry walked to the floo before the elf could return and landed in his office. He was soon lost in paperwork and owls. The last mission had been a huge success with over thirty arrests and the downfall of one of the largest illegal potions rings in England. This particular group also had an affinity for capturing half-bloods with creature ancestry and selling them for sex or slaves. They specialized in Veela and elf prostitution and wolf slaves/pets. He was so tired that he eventually fell asleep on top of a stack of files when he was awoken by a sharp object hitting him in the head.
"Potter.", a booming voice called.
He looked up again only to see Shacklebolt staring at him intensely.
"Christ Potter, you look like hell.", he remarked without tact.
"Thanks for that Kingsley." Harry removed his glasses and rubbed at his tired eyes.
"You look terrible. They tell me you've been sleeping at your desk, vomiting in the loo and staying here all night. Have a floo to Mungo's and then take a long holiday. You're the best damn auror I have, but you've obviously reached your limit. Two weeks at least."
"I'm fine. Really.", Harry insisted. He didn't want to go home. There was nothing there for him, but his thoughts. He needed to work. He needed the distraction. It was the only thing holding him together.
"That was not a request Harry, it's an order. If you continue like this, you could get reckless and we can't have you endangering yourself or the others. Now get out of here."
Harry sighed. "Fine, I guess it can't hurt to see someone. I'll go after I finish this report."
"You do that."
"But... I...huh?" Harry stuttered frowning in confusion.
"You're pregnant Mr. Potter. I'm sorry."
"You're sorry? Is this some sort of joke? That's impossible. If you haven't noticed, I'm a male.", he yelled his voice rising a few octaves higher than normal.
The healer's lips thinned. "I assure you I've noticed. I'm surprised no one thought to inform you considering your sexual... preferences."
"Well they didn't.", Harry snapped. "What am I going to do now?"
He was going to have a baby. Draco Malfoy's baby to be precise. The same Draco Malfoy who was engaged to be married.
"I have a few questions for you if you don't mind." Harry nodded distractedly before she started rambling on.
"When was the last time you had intercourse?"
Harry nervously pulled at his hair not wanting to remember that night at all. "Um.. a few days ago."
"Was this person the father?"
"No. That was. It was a one time thing."
"I see.", she commented and Harry could see the disapproval in her eyes.
"And the father, was he a one time thing also?" "We were together until fairly recently."
"May I ask why?"
"He's getting married...to a woman."
The healer looked at him in pity. He hated it. "Does he know?"
"No he doesn't and I don't plan on telling him." Harry said. He was thoroughly annoyed at this point.
She sighed. "I don't mean to pry Mr. Potter but is the other father perhaps a pureblood?"
"I'm sorry. Why is this important again?"
"I hate to be the one to tell you this, but you may not have a choice in whether or not you inform him. All pureblood heirs are automatically registered at the ministry once their magical signature can be detected at around twelve weeks. You're eight weeks now. Announcement letters are sent out to the families. It's to prevent illegitimate heirs you see."
Harry's face grew hot in panic and he struggled to breathe. "So what will happen then if he knows?"
"I can't be sure, but most people choose to marry. Since he is already engaged, I do believe they have the option of petitioning the court for full custody. Perhaps you should seek counsel just in case."
"But it's my child! He wants nothing to do with me. It won't even be a pureblood."
"It doesn't matter. The first born is still the true heir. They possess all the ancient protection and the majority of the magic of the entire family line. Most purebloods will do anything to keep that power under their thumb."
The healer was still talking, but Harry had long stopped listening. His mind was in a jumble, but he knew what he had to do. Draco had taken everything from him, but he'd be damned if he let him take his child; the only family he had left. Harry slid off the examining table and apparated on the spot.
He couldn't sit and watch Draco get married. He was strong. No doubt about that, but not that strong. He couldn't keep lying to his friends telling them he was fine when he wasn't. He couldn't bury himself in his work anymore. He had someone else's life in his hands and for the first time it didn't feel like a burden. This was his chance to create a new life, for himself and the baby.
After sealing all the windows, shutting the floo down and covering the furniture with sheets with a few flicks of his wand, he jogged upstairs. Harry quickly magicked his clothes and treasured belongings into a few bags. As he moved to leave the room, something made him turn around. There on the floor lay a small white stuffed dragon. Draco's from childhood. Somehow it had gotten left behind.
He couldn't believe that Draco was once so innocent as to lug that thing around as child and
furthermore, keep it into adulthood. It was one of the things he had loved about being with Draco. Peeling back all those layers and discovering the truly vulnerable person hidden underneath. It was all pointless now. He paused momentarily, threw it in the bag, shrunk the entire load and slipped it into his pocket. International FlooPort pass in hand, wand in the other, Harry felt the familiar tug at his navel and then... he was gone.