Sorry that this chapter has taken such a long time :/ I wrote the vast majority of this chapter last night, so I hope that means I'm back in the mood to write my other stories ^-^ Word Count: 4.4k

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14th November 1997- Friday

It was not fine.

Harry's morning sickness was horrendous from the moment it began. It would be a lie to even call it morning sickness. From the instant he woke up, to when he attempted to go to sleep, if he even could manage that, his stomach was protesting, and he was rushing for the bathroom.

He had woken up this morning worse than usual, not even managing to grab the sick bowl in time.

Through tears, he apologised profusely to Tom, who'd come rushing into the room when he heard his retching, as he waved his wand to clear away the mess. The apology was grossly interrupted as he had to yet again hunch over, but the man was at least there to rub his back soothingly through his pain.

"Shush Harry, this is all fine. It's normal, and we have no issue with it." He had comforted him, but that did little for Harry's worries. He had cried a little to himself when Tom had rushed off to get him a drink and some tablets, lulling despondently on his arms.

To make matters worse, and Harry even more miserable, today was Blaise's birthday, and he couldn't even congratulate the man without heaving.

Blaise had simply reassured him with his calm voice, convincing him to lay back down so they could cuddle instead. Through sniffles, Harry had told the man how he'd been planning to bake him a cake so that it'd be fresh for tonight. Now, it seemed his plans were ruined. He couldn't even move from the bed, head feeling as heavy as a rock where it lay resting on Blaise's shoulder.

"I don't mind, I'm content just to spend my time with you."

"But you shouldn't have to, it's your birthday." Harry croaked, leaning into Blaise's hand when he rested it on his cheek, turning his head to stare into the man's deep, purple eyes.

"There are plenty more hours in the day, I am perfectly content to share a few hours with my sickly mate."

"M'not sickly." Harry had refuted, glaring weakly when Blaise shook the both of them with his soft laughter.

"Sorry, sorry. My very not-sick mate, who is simply enjoying cuddling with me."

He smiled feebly. "It's this damn morning sickness. Didn't think it'd be this bad." His words began to slur at the end of his sentence, and Blaise made a concerned noise.

"Neither did I. Sleep, Harry. You need rest, both for you and the baby."

Harry hummed, not even bothering to respond further as his eyes closed heavily, drifting quickly off into a dreamless and deep sleep.

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He felt fresher in the afternoon, enough so to brave making that cake once Blaise, Draco and Tom had left. They had gone to meet up with their friends for the afternoon as none of them had lessons, and Tom had something to do at the Ministry. Harry himself had sent down word to Professor McGonagall that he'd be missing her class.

Harry had Elian helping him, taking over the parts that made him feel queasy, such as cracking and mixing in the eggs and pouring the batter into the cake tin.

It was going to be far off of the two-tier, perfectly decorated beauty he'd been planning, but Harry wanted something to give to his mate, even if it was a simple one. It was purple and silver, a bit on the nose as it was the colour of his mate's eyes and scales, but it looked sophisticated enough. Harry decorated it with piped flowers and a swirly '18' in the middle, stepping back to admire it once he was done.

Elian looked over his shoulder, making a noise of intrigue. "Making cake to celebrate someone's day of birth is a foreign tradition to me. Why do wizards do it?"

Harry hummed. "I'm not too sure, they taste nice? My Mum always makes one for my and my siblings' birthdays, so it could be a Muggle tradition, but I know many wizarding families who also make them. Ah!" He slapped the man's hand as he reached forward to swipe a dollop of the cake. "That's for Blaise, no touching!"

Elian pouted, his golden wings fluttering behind him. It entranced Harry for a second, and he felt himself sway momentarily before catching himself inconspicuously. "Do I get a cake on my birthday?"

Harry patted his cheek fondly. "You all will. Although I feel I'll have to start up my own bakery in the future to keep up with the amount of birthdays and cakes we'll be needing."

He covered the cake with the lid of a cake tray, more to stop Elian's wandering hands than anything else. The man had whined further about his lack of trust but followed him eagerly when he headed to the bedroom.

"Do you want to rest some more? We can cuddle."

Tired from baking and disgruntled about it, Harry eagerly accepted the offer, and Elian practically dove under the covers, wings fluttering happily. Harry laughed at the sight, especially when he eagerly patted the space beside him.

"Hurry up!"

Harry snorted, clambering onto the bed, squawking when he was dragged bodily under the covers and wrapped snuggly in the man's arms. He huffed a little, but soon settled down, relaxing in such a safe and warm hold.

"This is okay, right?" Elian received no response. Worried he'd done something wrong, he looked anxiously over his mate's shoulder. "Harry?"

The younger Fae had his eyes closed and was breathing deeply, obviously asleep. Elian let out a breath of relief, staring at the sweet sight for a few more moments, before shuffling back to plant his head on his mate's shoulder."

"G'night."

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After his afternoon nap with Elain, Harry had felt refreshed and raring to go once his other mates arrived back in their rooms after their days.

He'd blitzed their rooms, tidying up the kitchen, bedroom and bathroom, before moving onto the front room. His three wayward mates entered from the floo and the door to see him attacking the sofa with a hoover, hissing slightly when Draco went to sit on it.

His mate huffed, looking pompous. "Can I not sit on my own sofa after a busy day? Parkinson was terribly persistent today, Blaise almost threw her out of the room."

Harry, a flare of humour running through him, waved the nozzle of the hoover at the man, who backed off with a yelp.

"Harry, stop being a dolt!"

It was plucked out of his hand by Blaise, who he simply huffed at. "I was having fun with that!"

"Why are you even using it? Using magic would be so much easier."

"Physically cleaning makes me feel more accomplished. I can see if I've missed anything. Anyway, cleaning charms aren't really my fort."

"It's forte." The man corrected, dragging the hoover and shoving it haphazardly into the cupboard. It rankled Harry to see his work already coming undone, but that spark of temper was mollified quickly as Blaise came back, wrapping his arms around his waist and placing a chaste kiss on the juncture of his neck. "I missed you."

"You say that every day." Harry layed his head on Blaise's black hair, pleased to note it smelled of the man's characteristic lavender, a hint of smoke just barely present. He had noticed that was the signature smell of Dragonborn's, although there was a slight difference between Blaise's and others of his kind Harry had met so far.

Thomas' scent of berries and blood wafted over him then, and Harry craned his head back, yelping slightly as the man's lips met his. He hummed, melting into the kiss, disappointed when his mate drew back after only a few seconds.

"I hope your day has been better than earlier." Tom's voice was deep and husky, a sign that he'd been raising his voice. Probably at incompetent ministry workers and Lords.

"Mmh, I had a nap with Elian. My stomach's settled now."

"That's good," Blaise's arms retreated from his waist, and Harry was unsettled for all of a second before his full attention was captured by Tom steering him towards the sofa. "Are we having dinner here tonight?"

"Yeah," Harry made to remain standing, remembering the dish in the oven. "I made a pie. Elian helped a bit, but the veg still needs to be done." His wrist was yanked slightly, keeping him on the sofa. Instead, Elian got up with a nod and headed into the kitchen.

"Relax, Harry. If you made the pie, then let someone else deal with the other things. You need rest."

"I'm fine now," Harry huffed. "I said I had a nap in the afternoon."

"And the fact that you had a nap tells me that you aren't feeling perfect." Tom's tone left no room for argument, so, with a huff, Harry settled down to listen to the chattering of his mates, chiming in every so often. Mostly, however, he was content to observe, his eyes growing droopy as he drifted off into a light sleep.

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Disturbing the peace of the evening, the floo flared with an incoming call. Startled out of his doze, Harry's wings flared slightly, his instincts feeling extra touchy now that his pregnancy had progressed past the first month. He felt disorientated, but a calming touch to his back, Draco, soothed him slightly. Blaise stood, the closest to the floo, and answered it.

"Blaise, my birthday boy! Happy birthday, Darling!" Came the strong voice of Lady Zabini, and the tension that had descended on the room dissipated instantly. Harry's wings retreated hesitantly back to his sides, and he snuggled back into Draco's embrace, which he had apparently shuffled into during his sleep.

"Mother, this is later than I expected." Blaise drawled, but he was obviously happy to receive her call.

"I didn't want to interrupt your day, so I thought I'd call later on. How have you been?"

"Well, Mother. I am glad this is my last year at Hogwarts, however. Next year, I can enjoy my birthday without having to spend it stuck in a castle."

The pair of them conversed for a little while longer, before Blaise's Mother was called away by a voice in the background, sounding impatient. "Antonella, we need to leave! That reservation was hard to get, if we're late it will be a waste!"

The woman sighed, rolling her eyes in exasperation. "I have to go, my sweet. Pierre is whining, and I so do hate to make him wait." She spat this out sarcastically, giving her son a sardonic grin, which he matched nastily.

"Enjoy your time, Mother."

"Happy birthday, darling!"

Blaise sighed as he drew away from the floo. Harry grinned down at his kneeling form as he met his eyes. "Sounds like the new stepfather isn't going to last long."

He smirked. "Ah, they never do. My mother is an acquired taste, I doubt anyone out there could match her. Even I struggle sometimes, and she raised me in her likeness."

"And that's why I don't drink what you make." Draco rolled his eyes, patting down a stray strand of Harry's hair, tutting when it just sprang straight back up.

"How are the rest of your family? Are they as bold as your mother?" Harry questioned, batting away Draco's hands as they snagged on a knotted piece.

Blaise hummed. "I've only really had steady communication with my maternal grandparents and my Uncle, and they all match each other pretty well. My direct family isn't that big, in Creature terms. There's me and Mother, and then there's my Father, but I don't have much contact with him nor his side. My Mother is one of five kids, although only Uncle Lueis is still living," Harry sucked in a breath, and Blaise smiled slightly at him. "Childhood was far more difficult when they were born. Five is quite a low number, comparably, although my Grandparents are still well within their fertile years, so I'll probably still gain some more Uncles and Aunts yet. Anyway, my Grandparents don't really hold contact with their siblings and parents, but I know there are quite a few of them on my Grandmother's side. There are also my Vampire relatives, from my Grandfather, but I've only met them a couple of times when I was younger, although they send me gifts every year. They're the ones who gifted me the book on blood magic."

"It's a good thing me and Draco have relatively small families in comparison, although, Tom?" He looked at the man questioningly.

"I have a few family members, although they are of little relation to me, as I only directly descend from Grandfather. I converse with them sparsely, the last time one directly visited was when I was newly inherited." He smiled sharply. "You don't have to worry about bothering with learning more names, just my Grandfather's is important."

"I'm glad, Elian's family is...daunting." Harry grimaced slightly with a laugh, thinking about the multiple in-laws he had yet to meet.

Elian wryly chuckled as well. "At least I'm the last of my parents' children. My siblings however are still adding to the count of my nephews and nieces by the year. Even I haven't met all of them, or remember some of their names, so I wouldn't worry too much. You'll have many years to learn."

The timer on the oven 'dinged' then, and Harry practically leapt off the sofa, sliding into the kitchen. He flung open the oven door, practically collapsing in relief when he pulled out a perfectly golden pie and not the burnt mass he'd been expecting.

"I turned it down when I realised you were going to need some more rest," Tom spoke from the doorway. "The veg is also fine, so there's no need to worry that Blaise's birthday dinner has been ruined."

"You absolute darling," Harry reflexively thanked him, placing the pie on the side to let it cool a little. He flushed when he heard his mate draw in a sharp breath, and turned quickly, tea towel still covering his hands. "Oh Merlin, I'm-"

"Did you just call Tom a 'Darling'?!" Elian gasped breathlessly, and Harry swore his blush deepened from the heat he could feel radiating off his ears. He looked up at the man in question, grimacing slightly, only for his jaw to drop at seeing a similarly slawjawed expression on the Vampire's face.

It made him feel even worse, stumbling over a random vomit of words that made no sense. His other mates had crowded behind Tom to make matters worse, watching the scene unfold.

In the time it took for Harry to stop talking, Tom had composed himself, face stonily blank. "I'm- Thank you. I will make sure that the table is clear." He nodded sharply, turned on his heel, pushed past the others, and exited the kitchen.

Harry noted how the very tips of his ears were pink, and elected to keep the nickname under wraps until he could assess his mates' feelings towards it better.

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16th November 1997- Sunday

Harry's pregnancy sickness was still going strong by Sunday evening, and Draco and Elian were beginning to show their colours as the mother-hens of their mateship.

"Are you sure you don't want another tea?"

"Elian, I have one in my hand. You made it for me ten minutes ago." Harry sighed in exasperation, watching as his mate wrang his hands. He was practically bouncing with energy, and it was making Harry feel dizzy.

"But I bet it's cold and basically gone by now, right? Don't you want a fresh one?"

"No, I'm fine. Maybe I'll have another a bit later."

"How about a blanket? You must be cold, the weather's dropping a lot recently."

"I'm pregnant, I'm not sick. Besides, I'm feeling perfectly content right now, and watching you and Draco working yourselves up into a tizzy is actually making me feel more ill than anything."

Draco had been dragged off into the bedroom by Tom when he had started to get a bit pushy with him, and they had been in there for a little while by now. It was nearly time to go to bed, and Harry, despite his curiosity, just wanted to crawl into bed and sleep, perhaps with a warm drink in his hand to settle in.

Actually...

"Can you make that cup of tea? I want to drink it in bed." Harry had barely finished his sentence before Elian's face lit up and he dashed for the kitchen. The kettle began to boil moments later, and Harry relaxed back into the sofa with a sigh, feeling his eyes droop a little.

"Do you think you're going to finish that tea, or are you going to drop it again?" Blaise asked quietly, his voice revealing his equal drowsiness.

Harry had fallen asleep whilst drinking a tea the night before, and had been rudely awoken by Draco's squawking about changing the sheets. Needless to say, none of them had ended up falling asleep on good terms with each other, although they had all still crowded around him in the morning as he hunched over in the bathroom feeling mightily sorry for himself.

"Mmh." Harry simply hummed in response, his eyes barely open. He drifted off to the methodical sounds of Elain clinking cups in the kitchen.

"I've made you your- Hey, Harry-"

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19th November 1997- Wednesday

Peony turned six today, a fact which Harry and his mates were rudely reminded of when a talking envelope burst into their room at five in the morning, her high-pitched voice screaming out of it.

"It's my birthday! Happy, happy! Happy, happy! It's my birthday, woop woop!" It continued to repeat as it flew around the room until Tom shot a red curse at it that blew it into the wall. Surprisingly, it was still intact, although thankfully no longer making any noise.

"What the fuck." Draco uncharacteristically deadpanned, voice heavy with sleep.

Harry groaned, debating whether to turn over and continue dozing, but as he closed his eyes, he found himself unable to relax. With a sigh, he sat up and swung his legs out of the covers, a whoosh of cold air dosing Blaise and Elian who were on either side of him. They grumbled, glaring up at him with identical expressions of discontent, and Harry snorted.

"Happy, happy." He mimicked, treading carefully on the cold floor to pick up their alarm clock for the morning.

"How did that thing even get in here? There's tons of wards, for Merlin's sake!" Draco was still awake and grumbling, squinting down at the bottom of the bed, white hair a mess. The sneer on his face was almost cute, although his steely grey eyes promised death on the sender of the letter.

Harry waved the letter at him teasingly. "Dad." He simply stated, sitting on the end of the bed and ripping the letter open. Harry regretted it instantly as an explosion of golden glitter covered him and his surroundings, yelping as the sound of his sister's voice started up again.

"It's my birthday! Happy, hap-" The letter was ripped out of his hands, this time by a neon-orange spell that sent it onto the floor and continued to bash into it until it dispelled after a few violent seconds. Harry blinked, seeing golden.

He huffed, a swirly cloud of glitter making his breath visible. "I hate birthdays."

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They entered the Creature Studies classroom, each of them bleary-eyed, with matching scowls that revealed their mood. Well, Harry said all of them, which was untrue as, despite the early morning, Tom looked as perfect and put together as ever. Harry spitefully thought to ruffle his flawlessly styled hair a little bit before they'd exited their rooms, but the man's stare had been enough to forego that idea.

"Settle, everyone, please!" Professor Hendrix was as bright and chipper as ever, and despite his mood, Harry felt himself grinning slightly at her obvious enthusiasm. "Today, I will be discussing with you the various celebrations that occur within Creature Society. Instead of talking at you, I wish for this to be more like a discussion, so we may start wherever you are comfortable. Please, fire away!"

There were a few awkward seconds of silence, in which Professor Hendrix's grin didn't waver in the slightest until Terry Boot raised a hesitant hand. The Professor's gaze snapped to him, which caused the man to shrink back a little, hand whipping down, but he had already drawn her attention.

"Yes, Mr Boot?"

"Um, I, um," He hesitated, drawing in a deep breath. "Dragonborns' celebrations mostly happen within the summer months, when it's warmer. We enjoy the heat." He practically squeaked out under the attention, and Hendrix's clap made him practically jump out of his skin.

"And what celebrations are these?" The Professor questioned, fondly looking at the younger Dragonborn, who squirmed.

"Um, well, I've heard of the Festival of Flame, which sounds cool." He mumbled.

She smiled, sharp teeth on display but not threatening. "It is very 'cool', indeed! One of the many events is a fire-swallowing competition, where the fire the contestants eat grows hotter with every round. I participated back in my youth and only got as far as the third round. I wouldn't promote it to those so young, but perhaps when you are older, I persuade you to join in."

"How much older?" Ernie Macmillan piped in, looking excited.

"Oh, definitely when you're over fifty. You won't have a chance at getting past the first round younger than that. Even then, your fire resistance will still be developing, you start having a chance at winning once you hit your three-hundredth year. The youngest winner was Carmen Javan, who was just ten years older than that. She's a good friend of mine. Now, a celebration I do implore you all to attend, which isn't limited to Dragonborns, is the annual festival celebrating all the new Dragonborns who've inherited during the year. It is a wonderful experience, and there's little to no fire involved, so it's a family occasion."

"Are there any big celebrations such as that for the minor Creature's?" Lavender questioned, tapping her nails.

Professor Hawthorne leant back on her desk, humming. "I'm not as familiar with celebrations such as ones held by Were's, Elves, Mer's and other Minor Creatures, but I know of some of them. I was invited to a Mer celebration once, that was, that was...yeah, there was a lot of water and drinking involved." She cleared her throat, moving swiftly on from that memory. "The Dryads hold fancy celebrations, usually held in their section of the Fae realm. I've only vaguely seen one, my friend dragged me in on business, but it all seems very proper."

"The other Dryads I've met so far," Daphne Greengrass spoke in a hesitant voice that grew stronger as she went on. "Have seemed to match that description."

Harry blinked at her, finally connecting what Creature she was to her physical attributes. The deer-like antlers, green streaks in her hair, the vaguely familiar scent she emitted, Harry should have guessed she was a Creature from the Fae realm.

"A proper lot, yeah." Professor Hendrix nodded. "Now, any other celebrations you have heard of and want to know more about? If I don't have the answer, I can always find out or point you in the right direction for personal research. And don't forget, you are always welcome to reach out to your respective lower Councils for any queries. Creatures always help each other out, no matter how inconsequential you may believe your question is."

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24th November 1997- Monday

Draco came into the bedroom gripping a letter tightly in his hands. Curious, Harry sat up, peering at the golden envelope he had yet to open, continuing to stare at it instead.

"What's that?" He asked after the man still made no move to read it.

Draco sighed, looking slightly resigned. "A letter from the Boread Council," To his left, Tom made an inquisitive noise, placing his book down finally. They were all in bed, waiting for Draco to finish checking on the wards until he had come wandering into the room. "It's only just arrived."

"Ooh, the Boread Council? They only send out letters for important events." Elian perked up, climbing closer, disturbing Blaise who had yet to move from his cocoon of blankets.

"I know." Draco sat on the edge of the bed, slicing open the letter and pulling it out of the envelope. Even the parchment was tinted gold, with fancy patterns of leaves decorating the edges. He cleared his throat.

"Greetings,

Mr Malfoy, we, the Boread Grand Council, sincerely congratulate you on your induction into the mateship of the Fae, Harry Potter. The Boread Council welcomes this news warmly, and wishes you and your mates the best in your future endeavours.

This letter is to inform you that, as celebration for this momentous occasion, especially for the current youngest of our kind, we will be hosting a meeting within the Council Halls to welcome your mateship into our fold. It would please us greatly if you could attend, as the celebration places you as the guests of honour.

The decided date, as of now, is set for the nineteenth of December, beginning after noon. Please contact us, no matter your answer, and if the date is unsuitable, we may reschedule at your convenience.

Sincerely,

Jakob Hemming, 6th Elder of the Boread Grand Council."

Elian whistled. "They must have gotten a hold of the Hogwarts term timetable. They scheduled it within your Christmas break."

Blaise snorted from his relaxed position buried under the covers. "The Council's always knows everything like that. Mother says they have agents in every corner of the Magical world, and even some spread out with the most important Muggles. Are you thinking of attending, Draco?"

"This is an invitation for all of us, it will be a joint decision whether we attend or not. Although, as this is a celebration centred around us..."

"However, we must think of Harry's health," Tom spoke up. "By mid-December, Harry will be ten weeks along. His morning sickness may be worse by then."

"Don't let that affect our answer. I want to go, I'm sure we can get some anti-sickness potions by then. Besides, aren't meetings like this rare? I don't doubt the next one will be years from now."

"I'll send a reply in the morning saying that we will attend unless anything occurs between then and now."

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Word Count: 4.4k

[I've lost count of the votes by now :/ But I know that twins are still the most popular vote]

Sorry for the late update, I've been focusing my attention on 'Intimacy' since it's surprisingly the closest of my fic's to completion [It's only halfway done], and I also got into University!

I only got this chapter out since I was hit with a ton of inspiration last night and wrote 2.7k words in a few hours :) I have zero idea whether this inspiration will carry me into writing ch.13, but we'll see. I'll give myself a target to update within a few weeks ^-^

Twitter: xStrawberryJam_

As of 24th November, Harry is 6 weeks and 3 days into his pregnancy.