Author's Note: I delayed posting this in hopes that the formatting glitch on the AO3 website would be resolved. It hasn't, so I've decided to go ahead with posting anyway.

Lucius got worse before he got better. He completely lost the use of both arms and was confined to his hospital bed for most of the day. When he wasn't in bed, he was strapped into his wheelchair, with thick black bands holding his limbs, torso, and even his head in place. The contraption seemed like over kill, but it was necessary to counteract the random flailing and muscle spasms he suffered from. It seemed that his entire body was affected, including his tongue, making his speech garbled and swallowing difficult.

Healer Johnson said that a little progression of the disease was normal and would've happened even if they'd done nothing. An increase of that progression was to be expected with the addition of the active parasitic infection. The body couldn't be expected to heal itself while it was combating a major secondary illness. Furthermore, the infection triggers a serious immune response, which was part of the problem in the first place, and was expected to send progression of the disease into hyper-drive; that is what they wanted to happen.

Four months in, when Lucius lost all control of his bowls and bladder and was being fed through a tube down his throat, Healer Johnson admitted that his patient was having a more exaggerated response than what was typical. They had only tested the treatment on a handful of patients with Lucius' particular disease. It was possible for the parasitic infection to behave differently in different people. Perhaps the innate magic of the previous patients had shielded them from the worst of it or they'd had some other trait that had protected them. Lucius had magic too, but his wasn't active in fighting off the infection or the genetic disease.

The parasite should've been dying off by now. Lucius had been given the anti-parasitic potion and his immune system ought to be recognizing the infection and clearing it away. There were signs that his immune system was actively doing something, but the infection wasn't dying down the way it should and parasites isolated from his system were still live and infectious, when they shouldn't be. Not even repeated doses of the standard parasite treatment potion seemed to have an effect. It was almost as if the parasites had developed a resistance to the medication.

Healer Peddell was brought in, working under the hypothesis that Lucius' mental state was affecting his ability to fight off the progression of the disease. She was a mind healer, who diagnosed Lucius as depressed. It was hard to believe that a Death Eater critically infected with a parasite and who happens to have a life-threatening genetic disease like Motor Neurone Disease wouldn't be depressed. None of these things could be changed, but Healer Peddell set out to change Lucius' outlook on it all, in the hopes that the placebo effect would do wonders.

Cissy Malfoy wasn't the type to take her husband's infirmary lying down. When she heard the potion wasn't curing the parasitic infection, she set out to find a potion master who would find an alternative cure. It was unusual for someone to have such a life-threatening case of that particular parasite, so there was only the one potion in common use as treatment. Potion Master Claxton tested a number of other anti-parasitic potions for activity against Lucius' parasite, but had little success. Then he went to the archives, pulling out recipes of old or antiquated treatments for diseases that were no longer an issue.

In one very dusty and very old leather tome on pages that were so deteriorated that each one had to be preserved before it could be read, Master Claxton found the description of a rare type of magical parasite afflicting Flitterbloom roots. It was related to the parasite Lucius was supposed to have been given and almost indistinguishable, except for the fact that the common cure had little to no effect on the rarer species. A potion had been developed to cure the infection caused by the rarer parasite and recorded in the tome, where it was then forgotten about as no one had contracted the disease for hundreds of years. Or at least no adult had, because the infection was asymptomatic in children and always dealt with effectively by the immune system.

Master Claxton found the only remaining record of the cure and was then set with the challenge of recreating it. The English language had changed so much from those times that it was like translating a recipe from a foreign language. Then there was the fact that the ingredients came from living species, which had evolved in the intervening years. Lacewing flies were less potent now, so more had to be added. Dragonfly venom was more potent, so less of that was needed. Worst of all, hazelnut-wheat had been banned and destroyed, due to the wide-spread allergic reactions it'd caused in house elves. The archaic variety of wheat had to be grown from preserved seed and harvested before the potion could be made. And all of it Master Claxton had to do on his own or with the help of the Malfoy family, because there was no one else willing to waste his time to save a Death Eater like Lucius Malfoy.

Eventually Claxton succeeded, Lucius was cured of the parasitic infected, Healer Johnson begrudgingly admitted to having given the wizard the wrong parasite, and Healer Peddell falsely took credit for Lucius' recovery.

In other news, Cissy Malfoy was not charged with punching Peddell in the nose, because her threat to sue Peddell for taking credit for Claxton's work was enough to cause Peddell to drop the charges. Cissy agreed not to file her suit, as long as Peddell went away and never took credit for the potion master's work again. Cissy, for her part, was entirely disillusioned with the whole system, having discovered that if she wanted her family saved, she would have to do it herself.

As soon as the parasite left Lucius' system, his body began to heal, and his symptoms began to disappear. He stopped twitching so much and regained the ability to swallow first. Then the adult nappies and catheter were removed. He regained full control of both arms and his speech improved, to the point where those closest to him could understand him again. By the one year mark, he showed remarkable signs of improvement with every indication that he would continue to get better.

After a very emotionally trying first year of marriage, Harry was really looking forward to his anniversary. One year ago today he and Draco had stood before the ancient castle, surrounded by their friends and family, and promised to love each other forever. That day was marred by Lucius' collapse, but he was recovering now and it was time to celebrate. They had made it through the darkness to the light at the end of the tunnel. From now on, they were going to have their happily ever after; Harry was sure of it.

The best part about the anniversary of a marriage, in Harry's opinion, was that he was guaranteed to get sex. Draco was a willing enough participant most of the time, but the fact that they had a child to think about got in the way. Draco was always busy, volunteering to watch Teddy, taking care of Eiona, or visiting his father in hospital. There was never time for a night, or even a few hours, of love making. It was always a spur of the moment thing when Eiona was down for a nap or Cissy had taken the child out for a walk. Draco would corner Harry, announce the amount of time they had and declare his sexual need. The passion would ensue, only to be cut short be their time constraints.

Tonight was going to be different. Eiona was having a sleep over with Teddy at Dromeda's house. Cissy was unavailable for the night, because it was also the anniversary of Lucius' diagnosis with a fatal disease and she wanted to be with her husband. But Dromeda was just as capable of watching a child and more than willing. Molly had even put in an offer to stop by Dromeda's to give a hand. So their daughter would be perfectly fine without her parents, freeing Harry and Draco up to make love all night.

Harry woke up that morning to Eiona climbing into bed with him and sitting on his stomach. He tried to remain asleep, wanting just a few more minutes, but she stuck her fingers in his nose. He sat up, pulling the tiny appendages out of his nostrils and said, "Eiona, it's not nice to stick your fingers in Daddy's nose."

"Daddy!" Eiona exclaimed happily.

"Alright Princess, what do you want? How did you get free?"

Eiona slept in a crib in the next room, so she couldn't have gotten loose unless Draco had let her go.

"Fa-er 'aye Daddy a 'appee!" The eighteen month old's speech was difficult to understand at the best of times. Harry had adapted by using his Auror training. He pretended it was the code of a dark wizard he was tracking. The base of the code was English, only most of the consonants had been removed, leaving the vowels. The occasional consonant was the rare clue needed to decode the message.

"Father sent you," Harry surmised.

Eiona clapped her hands together, but it didn't make much of a sound, because she held a handmade card. Harry pulled it away from her and smoothed out the parchment. The letters spelled out, "Happy First Anniversary!" in Draco's long graceful script, but were covered over with the crayon scribbles of a toddler. Harry opened the card up to reveal a finger painting done with tiny fingers and Eiona's and Teddy's hand prints in the middle. Draco had spelled out their full names and the dates underneath.

"Thank you Princess. This was so nice of you and Teddy to make me," Harry told her, placing a kiss to her blond head.

Normally Harry would've continued to play with his daughter on the bed, but a loud noise from the other side of the room stopped him. He looked up to see his broom clanging on the floor and Teddy climbing over it. He moved Eiona to the ground and sprang up just as his godson began to rise in midair on the broom, backwards. He dashed across the room and retrieved the two year old, letting the broom fall to the floor.

"Teddy, what are you doing?" Harry asked.

"Day-o say Eddy p'ay wi' Har-ee!" Teddy explained.

"Draco told you to play with me, did he?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," Teddy answered, nodding his head.

"It's not safe to play with Harry's broom by yourself Teddy. You have to get Harry first," Harry scolded, going back to his bed to retrieve Eiona. "That goes for you too Princess: no touching Daddy's broom."

"Ay!" Eiona replied.

"Come on, let's find out what your father is up to." Harry grabbed his wand, did a bit of cleanup, since Kreacher was getting too old to do it all, put on his slippers, and went down the hall, a pair of toddlers at his heals.

Harry found Draco in the nursery, putting together a nappy bag for Eiona. He'd shrunk everything down, but still it wouldn't all fit; it looked like he was trying to pack the entire nursery.

Eiona and Teddy dived into an open drawer, pulling out freshly laundered clothing and tossing it up in the air.

"You know Draco, it's only one day," Harry said.

"And one night! What if she misses us?"

"Having a hundred stuffed bunnies isn't going to change whether or not she misses us."

"Her stuffed bunny! Where is it? Did I already pack it?" Draco was frantically digging through the nappy bag, looking for the beloved bunny, oblivious to the mess the children were making a few feet away.

"Draco," Harry said, grabbing Draco's hand and pulling it out of the nappy bag. He waited until Draco made eye contact before continuing. "Ipheion will be fine. Your aunt knows all about how to take care of babies and Molly will be there to help."

Draco nodded and let Harry envelope him in a hug. Then Harry helped Draco remove ninety percent of the superfluous items from the nappy bag, before gathering up the children and going downstairs. Dromeda was in the parlor, conversing with the portrait of Sirius' parents. She had a twin pram, which Harry and Draco placed Teddy and Eiona into for her. Dromeda assured them that she'd be fine, but Draco prattled on in his worried state for several minutes more.

Finally Dromeda looked at her watch, proclaimed she had to get going if they were to make some kiddy show at the library, and hurried through the door. Draco looked after her in a daze, looking forlorn over the loss of the children. Harry, on the other hand, was very pleased by the development. Harry picked Draco up and carried his husband back to bed. Harry fucked Draco until he forgot all about how their little girl was doing without them, until he was screaming Harry's name and begging for more.

After the morning round of sex there was breakfast in bed, courtesy of Kreacher. Harry thought the ailing elf had added too much salt, but Draco gobbled it down like he hadn't eaten in days. After he ate, Harry freshened up in the bathroom, before returning to the bed for another round. Draco was getting up to use the loo himself, but Harry pushed him back down with a feral grin plastered on his face.

"Harry!" Draco protested, in between kisses from Harry. "We can't."

"We can. We have to. We have all day and nothing else to do, Draco."

"I have to pee," Draco protested.

Harry let Draco up, but followed his husband to the loo. He stood there even when Draco shut the door on him. "Hurry up, because as soon as you're done, your arse has an appointment with my cock."

"Harry, we have to get ready! We're already running late," Draco protested from the other side of the door.

"Running late for what? This is our anniversary. We agreed that the entire day would be just you and me, no children."

"Yes, but I signed us up for couples Quidditch at the castle, remember?"

"No…"

Draco was always talking and saying things when Harry was trying to snog and seduce him. Was it Harry's fault if Draco was always on the non-sex track when he ought to be thinking about Harry's cock in his arse?

"You said it would be nice. You like Quidditch, it's on the same lawn where we got married, and I already paid. Remember? You said you would go as long as you could fuck me in one of the rooms of the castle? You told me to book a room and I did. It's all paid for."

Now that he thought about it, Harry did remember a fantasy he'd had of buggering Draco in a castle after a Quidditch match. That was all that had seeped in of that conversation, but it seemed that letting his dick be in charge of his brain had worked out in his favor. "Yeah, alright, I'll go dress," he called.

Harry pulled out his old Quidditch gear. His old uniform no longer fit, but he had other clothes that would do. Draco finally emerged from the loo and dressed too. Harry's broom was out, but Draco's was nowhere in sight, so Harry went in search of it, looking in various closets. "Draco, have you seen your broom?" he asked.

"We don't need my broom; it's a couples match."

"What's that mean?"

"It means we ride the same broom and are both seeker."

"In that case, forget the pants and I'll bugger you on the broom." Harry had abandoned the closet and was pressing his body up against Draco's now, interfering with Draco's attempt to pull his trousers up.

"Don't you dare."

Harry kissed and sucked at the back of Draco's neck. "How about one quickie before we go then?"

Draco spun around and shot Harry with an ice-water in the pants curse he'd picked up. He was so fast and Harry's head so muddled with sex, that Harry was powerless to dodge it and felt the full brunt of the cold water on his heated parts.

"Was that quick enough for you?" Draco asked with a smirk.

"Urgh! Draco, now I'm all wet," Harry complained, pulling his wand out. He cast a drying charm on himself and smoothed out his robes.

Draco went back to dressing. They were soon ready, grabbed Harry's new broom, and were off. They were late, with their team already huddled up discussing their game plans for the day. But there was never much game plan for a seeker, so there was no harm done. The morning fuck on the other hand, left Draco unable to sit a broom properly, handicapping their pair. The rules clearly stated that there had to be two people on each broom in couples Quidditch, so they had to make do or forfeit.

They were late, so they tried a cushioning charm on Draco's arse and took off in the air. But he kept wiggling in the most enticing way, so that didn't work. There was no sign of the snitch, so they choose to land in order to regroup. Then they tried a few different positions, but they were unbalanced, which either prevented the broom from flying straight or led to Draco slipping off one side or the other. Finally they settled on a position that worked where they were face to face with Draco balanced on a hovering charm, so that his sore bum didn't actually touch the hard rod, and his arms wrapped around Harry to hold on.

Draco hindered their team when it came to steering, but was an asset nonetheless, due to his keen eyesight. Draco spotted the snitch and directed Harry to it. Harry caught it and their team won the game. It was a silly, goofy way to play, but it turned out to be a lot of fun. It would've been more fun if Harry had been able to keep his hands off of Draco that morning, but it was their anniversary and they'd never truly had a chance to be newlyweds.

After the game of Quidditch, they checked into the hotel in the castle and had another go. Then they had lunch in a posh restaurant on the ground floor. Draco ordered the chicken, but sent it back, because it tasted funny and had the vegetarian pasta instead. After that they took a tour of the small museum, before retiring to their room for the night. It wasn't all that late, but Draco was exhausted and fell asleep with Harry's cock still in his arse. Harry ordered room service and ate alone, waking Draco up only for another round in the sheets.

Harry was very satisfied with the amount of sex they had that night. His only complaint, if he had one, was that Draco seemed to be fucked senseless. His husband was utterly useless in the morning, moving at a snail's pace whenever he asked Draco to do anything. When he didn't ask, Draco sat there staring off into space, massaging his left nipple where Harry had pinched too hard, applying anal soothing potion to his rear, or examining the room service menu. Harry didn't mind too much, since it was a direct consequence of all that brilliant sex.

"Alright, what do you want to order?" Harry asked, when he caught Draco staring at the menu for the tenth time. Kreacher would have breakfast ready for them when they got home, so Harry had been planning on waiting to eat. He had been trying to locate all of their possessions, but couldn't seem to track down their Quidditch pads. But Draco hadn't finished his lunch the day before, hadn't eaten dinner at all, and had engaged in lots of physical activity, so it wouldn't hurt to let Draco eat something now.

"Huh?" Draco asked confused.

"What do you want to eat?" Harry asked again.

"For food?" Draco asked.

"Yes, for food. I must've fucked your brains out last night, huh?"

"Uh…" Draco actually seemed legitimately confused by that one.

"Your usual then? Oatmeal and fruit? Or do you want to splurge and go with the eggs and bacon?"

Draco's brow furrowed in thought and he very slowly said, "Oatmeal."

Harry ordered Draco's breakfast and finished packing just as Draco's food arrived. Then he discovered that he smelled like sex and decided to shower; he couldn't pick up their daughter smelling like arse and jizz. He was dressed and ready to go when he noticed that Draco wasn't at all presentable and still smelled like sperm. It was highly unusual for the prissy pathologically clean wizard, but Draco hadn't gotten all that much sleep between the bouts of passionate love-making. Plus Eiona had been up cutting a tooth the night before, so maybe Draco was sleep deprived. Harry decided to cut Draco some slack, cast a few cleaning charms, and directed Draco into appropriate attire.

Draco continued to act spacey when they got home, but it was the weekend and Harry had the day off, so he took over. He directed Draco to the bath to soak and then to bed. Draco slept all day and woke up acting like his normal self, proving that Harry was right about the sleep-deprivation. Maybe next year they'd spend a bit more of the night sleeping…Then again, Harry didn't mind taking care of Draco for the day and buggering him all night had its appeal.

Author's Note: And so the main drama begins…Up next will be more of Draco's strange symptoms—can anyone guess what's wrong with him?—and more of Harry not considering how things will affect Draco, like how he jumped Draco before their planned Quidditch game. It'll start with the little things, but those little things add up. If anyone has any ideas for petty disagreements they can have or annoying things men forget to do or don't pay attention to, please let me know!

Please review!