Chapter 2: Saturday 29th May 2005
Chapter Text
Saturday 29th May 2005
The next day disappeared more quickly than a grain of sand through a timer.
Ron and he had been really fortuitous and had caught a vital break in their dogged pursuit of an illegal potion smuggler. An Azkaban resident, desperate for the clemency of the Wizengamot, had decided to give up critical information about the location of a safe-house used by several co-conspirators.
The criminal's lair had been raided as a result of her information so nearly all of Harry's Friday had been spent cataloguing the arcane and dangerous ingredients that had been revealed in the process.
This was hot scruffy work and dreadfully boring to boot, but a sadly vital part of the justice process.
The Prophet seemed perennially convinced that an Auror's job was non-stop action but in Harry's experience the truth was often the opposite. Writing up detailed parchment reports was a huge and very time-consuming part of Harry's job.
Seven years in the Auror Department had taught Harry that nothing secured a conviction in the Wizengamot like a vast pile of tagged, recorded evidence.
As Friday afternoon had ticked by Harry had been forced to admit to himself that a six o'clock finish was looking increasingly unlikely.
Neither he, nor Ron were able to leave the Dark Wizard's lair without wrapping every last phial of Acrommantula Potion into a stasis spell and numbering each accordingly. Even with the two of them working together and skipping every break the task seemed to take forever. Both Harry and his best-mate, had been forced to admit defeat as four fifty-five rolled around. They'd both firecalled their spouses to say they'd be late home.
It had past midnight before Harry had been able to floo home to Grimmauld Place. Harry had cursed silently under his breath as he'd hung up his coat and kitbag, feeling both robbed and exhausted. He'd missed his precious evening with Draco and Isadora entirely and his weekend couldn't start quickly enough.
Harry felt more than ready for it.
Saturday dawned bright and beautiful. Harry quirked open an eye and spread his arm across the quilt but he was disappointed to find it empty. The material was cool under his fingertips, devoid of any body warmth. As was his usual habit, Draco had risen early and left Harry to sleep in.
Draco was an established early riser, a custom that had been formed when he'd lived at home at the Manor. Lucius hadn't wanted a work-shy, indolent son and so, from a very young age, the older wizard had gotten Draco up with the dawn. Lucius had wanted Draco to learn Estate Management and all the accomplishments of an aristocrat.
Draco's life hadn't turned out anything like Lucius might have planned for him but the habit of waking early had stuck to him like a curse. Harry Accio'ed his dressing gown. He shrugged it over his shoulders before poking his toes into his slippers. He descended the stairs quietly, knowing precisely where he'd find his husband.
Harry ambled out of the patio doors and into their busy, beautiful garden.
The Grimmauld gardens were Draco's coveted domain and Harry wasn't in the least bit surprised to see his beloved crouched beside his prized Alihotsy shrub with a pair of pruning shears in his hands.
The other wizard was entirely engrossed in the cutting and trimming and Harry looked on admiringly at the sight. Draco's whole face was a mask of focus as Harry watched him gently bite at his bottom lip, his grey eyes continuously scanning for any signs of blight or bugs.
Harry hadn't been at all convinced when Draco had decided to build himself a magical garden but now, with the early morning sun shining, the Moly in full bloom and the delicate scent of Valerian filling his nostrils, Harry was starting to understand why Draco enjoyed gardening so much.
"I missed you last night," Harry said softly, walking out onto the dewy grass. Draco's hand stilled at the sound of his voice, and he turned around, a smile brightening his pointy features.
Draco's hair was still fluffy from bed and he wore a scruffy, holey Gryffindor Quidditch shirt that Harry had given him for a joke present not long after they'd fallen in love. It amused Harry that such a supposedly reviled present found its way onto Draco's back as often as it did. This was an easy, laid-back Draco that was reserved for Harry alone.
"As did I," Draco replied with a gentle smile. "I tried to stay up love, I swear to Godric but when eleven rolled around the sleep just washed over me… You ought to have woken me when you got in though. What time did you come to bed?"
"I flooed in after midnight," Harry continued, walking over to stand beside Draco, "but it was worth it. Ron and I catalogued enough evidence to put the felon in Azkaban for a good few years at least."
"That's excellent," Draco replied, placing his pruning shears on the floor beside him. "You know how much I worry, Potter. Can't abide the idea of one of those criminals getting close to you… My evening was considerably less exciting. Once I'd put Isa down to sleep in her cot I went to bed with a novel," Draco winced then and Harry noticed him rub the base of his back distractedly. "The book wasn't quite as good company as you but I suppose it sufficed for a short while- Ooof! Help me back on my feet would you?"
Harry jumped to attention, proffering his arm and taking Draco's weight as the other wizard stood up and steadied himself. Harry wasn't keen on the idea of Draco gardening when his back was playing up, so the two men worked as a team to quickly put away the few tools that his husband had been using.
It only took them a few minutes before their garden was a clear and safe space once more. It was the Potter-Malfoy family's turn to host their friends and their children the following day and it wouldn't have done to have anything dangerous where small, inquisitive hands might have decided to explore and hurt themselves.
"You've hurt your back again?" Harry asked, pulling Draco into an easy embrace. "Remember what the Healer said after you came out of the hospital with Isa? You know that your ligaments aren't that strong-"
"It's only a twinge," Draco said promptly, "Nothing to worry about." He raised his eyebrows at Harry and made a blatant attempt to change the subject. "Mmm. Look at you. All sleep tousled and unshaven. You don't get less gorgeous, do you Potter?"
Harry preened under Draco's compliment and then the pair of them shared an unceremonious morning kiss, their only company the breeze and the birdsong.
Their teasing kisses might well have developed into something more but the two wizards were forced to pull apart with a resigned sigh when a familiar cry tore through the morning peace surrounding them. Isadora had woken, triggering Draco's monitoring spell and Harry felt the same flame of excitement rumble through his belly that he always did just before he saw his baby.
"I'll go get her," Harry said, learning over to brush his lips over Draco's mouth for a final time. "You go and rest that back for a few minutes before it gets worse. I don't want you shuffling around in pain on your birthday, love. I'll get her changed and sorted. Are you sure that you're okay, sweetheart?"
Draco rolled his eyes but there wasn't any heat in his gesture. "Don't fuss so much," Draco replied. "I'm just a bit achy is all," he yawned. "It's a spring cold. Nothing to worry about. You get Isa and I'll start making breakfast in a couple of minutes."
Harry bounded up the stairs, eager to give his baby the cuddle that he'd been denied the night before. He was still passionate about his work in the Auror Department but was really aware that the odd and often lengthy hours were tough on Draco. Harry had endless esteem for the unstinting love that Draco lavished on their little daughter.
Draco was a professional Herbologist but he'd chosen to take a few years away from his work. He had wanted to dedicate his time to Isadora's early years, explaining that he didn't want to miss even a moment of her childhood.
Draco had been raised by a series of Elf-Nannies whilst he was a youngster, and while he'd loved each and everyone of them, Harry knew that he'd missed his own parents dreadfully. The time-honoured Pureblood tradition was that their children were seen and not heard until they got their Hogwarts letter and Draco was determined to do things differently with his own offspring.
Harry pushed open the door to his babies room and with a tiny flick of his wand set a Lumos to glow above her.
Isa's chubby, perfect little legs already held her upright and she bounced with joy, holding tightly to the wooden side of her cot.
Draco had taken the utmost care decorating Isadora's room when he was pregnant. Draco had been so big when he'd decorated the nursery. Harry remembered how perfectly Draco had magicked the constellations onto the ceiling and how skilfully he had painted and enchanted the woodland scene that adorned the four walls. His husband had been closing in on his due date but his nesting instinct had been powerful. Draco had refused to be deterred by Harry's worries and concerns.
"Dadadada," Isa babbled, staring at Harry with her wide greeny-grey eyes and Harry fell in love all over again, just like he did every single time he laid eyes on his baby.
Their little girl favoured both the Potter and the Malfoy sides of her heritage equally, with a pile of untidy blond curls on the top of her head and what was unmistakably Lily Potter's nose between her pink cheeks. Even though Isa had been the queen of his and Draco's world since the day she had been born, Harry struggled sometimes still to believe that Isadora was theirs to keep forever. He was the proudest dad in wizarding and Harry didn't need to be told that Isa was unquestionably the prettiest baby that had ever lived.
She gave Harry a wet, gummy smile and he felt his heart swell with adoration.
Without further ado Harry swooped her up into his arms. Her tiny hands grabbed hold of fistfuls of his dressing gown and her blond head nuzzled into his chest like always. Even though Isa was a long way off being able to make full words yet, Harry knew without a doubt that he and Draco were loved fiercely.
The intensity his paternal feelings had come as a shock to Harry and he'd felt a raw fresh grief for his own parents. Harry only wished they could have met Isadora, even once, for he felt sure that they would have cared for her every bit as much as Draco and he did.
"My little beautiful," Harry said, kissing the soft tight curls that sat close to her head. Their Magi-Midwife had thought that Isa's newborn tufts might fall out after the first few months but Harry had known better. Potter hair was terribly stubborn and it looked like her curls were here to stay. He only hoped that the obstinate knots that plagued his life wouldn't try Isadora's nerves too much as she got older. "Did you have a good sleep? I missed you last night."
Harry picked up the multicoloured chenille blanket that had been one of many knitted by Molly, and wrapped it snugly around her shoulders.
"Shall we go and see your other daddy?" Harry wondered aloud, carrying Isa out of her bedroom. "I caught him outside in the garden again this morning," he said, making conversation with his little darling as he carried her carefully back down the stairs. "Sometimes I half-wonder if he loves those plants of his more than us."
He opened the door to the living room with a nod of wandless magic and found Draco napping on the sofa. There was the latest copy of the Journal of Modern Herbology lain on the floor where it has slipped from his husband's hands.
Isadora began to squirm and wriggle excitedly as soon as she saw Draco and Harry felt his chest swell with pride that these two wix were his very own family. Harry was constantly amazed by the special bond that Draco and Isa had. The other wizard had nursed Isadora exclusively for her first five months and after that he'd made all her weaning purees from scratch.
Draco had made sniffy noises about not wanting to feed her 'processed Muggle rubbish' but Harry had known the truth of the matter. Draco had simply wanted their baby to flourish. Now, as Harry placed Isa on the floor and she crawled gleefully over toward her other daddy, Harry knew that everyone of Draco's sleepless nights and his faffy, nourishing food choices had been worth it. Their little girl really was thriving.
Harry and Draco had taken Isa to St. Mungos for her check-up only two weeks before and the Healer on duty had been more than pleased with her development targets. Her Magical Cortex examination had come back with a resounding positive so there was no doubt about it: their small daughter was going to be a powerful little witch before many more years had passed.
It took next to no time at all for Isa to crawl to the edge of the settee and Harry watched as she pulled herself up onto wobbly legs.
Harry itched to go over and give her a helping hand, but he shoved his hands into his pockets to resist the temptation. Hermione had already chastised him for doing too much for Isa. 'Babies have to learn to be independent,' she'd informed Harry more than once. "You need to give her a chance to succeed.'
Truthfully, Harry didn't think that many more days would pass before Isadora took her very first steps. She was fascinated by her chubby toes and tried to stand up on them at every available opportunity. As soon as Isa had begun to cruise Draco and Harry had frantically charmed their furniture with baby-proofing spells.
"Are you going to wake daddy?" Harry asked aloud and Isadora looked back, giving Harry a very Malfoy-esque smirk. Then she tapped Draco's hand with her pudgy fingers.
"Daa-daaaaadada," she shouted happily, as loud as her small lungs could manage. "Dadaaada!"
Draco's eyes flew open and Harry watched as his husband's face transformed with love into a broad guileless smile.
Draco never looked more stunning than when he was looking at his daughter. "Ma petit bebe," he laughed, sweeping Isadora into his lap and pressing a dozen speedy kisses all over her face. "Awoken from my slumber by my two favourite people in the world." He yawned, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. "Don't know what came over me, Potter," he admitted over Isa's shoulder, his grey eyes still misty from sleep. "I thought I'd read my journal and then the words just swam in front of my eyes."
Isa buried her head in the soft cotton of Draco's Quidditch top and the blond wizard tickled her with long lithe fingers, merciless in his teasing. Draco knew all of Isadora's favourite tickle-spots and very soon Harry heard the sound of their baby daughter's high pitched giggles fill the room. It was the prettiest sound that he thought he'd ever heard and very soon her whole little body had collapsed into a cuddle.
Draco ran his hand lightly over Isa's unicorn-patterned babygro and dropped a last kiss on the top of her head. "Nothing like a morning snuggle," Draco said cheerfully. "Best thing in the world to start the day with."
Harry nodded in agreement. "She was overjoyed when I went in his morning," Harry replied, sitting down beside his loved ones on the settee, "dancing in her cot. I love it when she's cuddly like this."
Harry raised an inquisitive eyebrow behind the lenses of his glasses as he saw Draco muffle another yawn behind his spare hand. There were dark smudges beneath his husband's eyes and, in the bright morning sunshine, his face looked wan and pinched. Despite all the extra Pumpkin Pasties and second portions of pasta, his husband had definitely lost a couple of pounds. His face was more angular than normal.
"Draco," Harry asked, his earlier worries about his husband springing back to the forefront of his brain, "accuse me of nagging if you have to, but I need to ask… You're really sure that everything is okay, love? You look like you've lost a bit of weight and sparking out on the settee isn't like you." He leant over and squeezed Draco's knee. "And you were complaining about your back earlier."
Draco was silent for a moment, eyes drifting over their little girl. He twisted one of her honey-gold curls around his finger before he looked back over at Harry.
"I don't know. It's like I said the other night, I've been feeling a little off the last few weeks. I ache all over and can't seem to rouse myself whatever I do." Draco puffed out an annoyed breath. "I think it's a touch of the damned Muggle 'flu. You know, I thought I was going to be sick yesterday when I took Isa to Mother's for lunch. Her bloody House-Elf- You remember Elsie?- tried to feed me a prawn sandwich. Just the scent of the thing was enough to make me bilious, Potter."
Harry wasn't particularly convinced or satisfied by Draco's explanations, though. His partner was usually as aggravatingly healthy as a Blast-Ended-bloody-Screwt and even when he did get poorly tended to shake off bugs and viruses in a matter of days.
Lucius hadn't ever allowed Draco to mix with non-magical people as a youngster and as a result his husband often got confused about the names of basic Muggle illnesses. His husband must have got himself muddled up. Aversion to prawn sandwiches and feeling nauseated didn't sound like any kind of 'flu that Harry had ever suffered through…
In fact, if Harry had been forced at wand-point to bet the contents of his vault, he would actually have lain all his galleons and groats at the door of Draco being pregnant…
Harry felt a massive, thrilling jolt of exhilaration course through his body as realisation hit home. His heart began to race as his mind did a dozen different calculations. Could it really be true? Could Draco actually be pregnant for a second time?
Harry truly hoped so. Neither wizard wanted Isadora to be an only child like they had been. They both wanted Grimmauld Place to be full of mischief and laughter and all of a sudden it seemed to Harry that they were both much closer to their desire.
There'd been a single occasion, only a few months before, when the two wizards had engaged in unprotected sex. It had been Blaise's birthday party and Isadora had been staying with Narcissa for the night.
The two wizards, excited by their single night of freedom and one-too-many Firewhiskies had been so utterly overcome with lust that they'd forgotten to use a condom. Harry had been buried balls-deep in his beloved before he'd even realised but Draco, bitingly close to his climax, had implored Harry to continue. "Please, Potter," Draco had begged, "just this once… It won't hurt."
Sex without a condom hadn't hurt but it seemed that they'd been a consequence that neither wizard had been expected. Draco was carrying a little souvenir of Blaise's birthday party in his belly and their presence was already making itself known in Draco's strange moods, his avid appetite and his sleepiness.
Merlin, but it couldn't really have been more obvious. Harry's mind flew back to their conversation two nights before. There'd been that curious comment about weight gain. Draco had even confessed to feeling bloated and tearful, both of which had plagued Draco's first trimester with Isadora.
Harry grinned to himself. There'd been another telltale sign in bed only a few nights before. Harry had been lavishing kisses, bites and nibbles all over his husband's luscious body when Draco had flinched.
The blond wizard had moaned in pain-pleasure at the very moment Harry's teeth had grazed his lover's puffy pink nipple. The only other time that Draco's nipple had been so tender and so sensitive had been when he'd been pregnant with their daughter eighteen months ago.
Harry's lips had dropped lower down his lover's body as the following minutes had passed and thoughts of sexy swollen nipples had left his mind entirely. Now though? They were all Harry could think about.
Draco was pregnant and Harry felt more jubilant than he had when Draco and he had taken their first test nearly two years before.
Back then there had been a trepidation, a feeling of stepping off their broom into a life that was going to be radically different. This time all Harry could feel was elation. Isadora had been a wonderful addition to their lives and Harry knew that another baby would only add to their happiness. Harry had enough love in his heart for a dozen lifetimes.
Beside him, Draco turned his head. He was looking thoughtfully in Harry's direction and his eyes were kind.
"You're thinking Potter," Draco said, reaching over to tuck a tuft of Harry's untameable hair behind his ear. "I can always tell darling. The cogs are all turning in that gorgeous noggin of yours."
Harry fixed a smile on his face. He was about to inform Draco about his fortuitous fertility and how they were about to become a family of four when Draco stood, Isadora sat on his hip. "And, while I'd love to hear your thoughts on the agility of the Arrow's new Beater or whatever is occupying your brain right now," Draco continued, "I'm afraid it's going to have to wait. I have to make breakfast for this little pixie before I shower. Teddy is down from school and he, Mother and Aunty Andi are coming over for afternoon tea this afternoon."
Draco leant over and slotted Isa neatly into Harry's waiting arms.
Their little girl wasn't best pleased to leave the safety of Draco's embrace and she made a distressed mewling noise as her daddy Draco stood back up.
Harry took the opportunity to have a sneaky look at his husband's middle, wondering if they'd be any hint of a swell growing yet. Of course, it was very early days for Draco to be showing but Harry had noticed with various Weasley relations that second baby-bellies tended to pop out earlier. There was nothing to be seen though. The baggy Quidditch shirt covered Draco's waist loosely, hiding any signs of a possible bump.
"Don't cry ma petite cherie," Draco murmured. "We'll all three be back together before you know it." Draco dropped a loving kiss onto Harry's shoulder before he padded out of the room in the direction of the kitchen, one hand still distractedly massaging his lower back.
Harry shook his head, amazed at the shocking, brilliant direction that his day had turned.
"You're going to be a big sister," he told Isadora solemnly, "which is a very important job. Quite the most important job in the whole world, really."
With a twist of his wand Harry Accio'ed Isadora's box of blocks and her favourite magical creatures pop-up book that had been a present from George and Angelina. Isadora laughed and Harry sat her on the floor and plonked himself down beside her.
Harry opened the picture book on a Hinkypunk and showed Isa the shimmering illustration before he spoke again. "You other daddy doesn't know he is pregnant though, which doesn't surprise me a bit, babylove. We tried for you for months… And every time it didn't happen your other daddy wished upon his special star for you to grow. We wanted you so much. We loved you before we ever met you, Isadora, and the best thing about love? It grows and it stretches."
Harry cast a clever little spell and the blocks stood to attention in front of Isa's eyes, building castles and tall towers. Isadora gasped as giggled as they reformed, clapping her hand in pleasure.
"It wasn't quite the plan to have another baby this soon," Harry smiled, twisting his wand so that the blocks collapsed to the ground, "but that doesn't matter a single sickle Isa. This baby will be every bit as special- and every bit as loved- as you are, sweetie."
~*~*~