Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Sharing Is Caring	By : Sasunarufan13 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 3739 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter nor make profit of it. J.K. Rowling owns it.

Chapter List
- 1-Sharing Is Caring
- 1
Author's note: So this is an idea that came randomly to me one evening and I've been working on it for the past few weeks. It turned out to be a bit more serious than I intended it to be, but I still wouldn't classify it as angst LOL Although I guess I'll leave you to be the judge of that ;)
Warnings: Draco's pov; set after the war but doesn't follow epilogue; established slash; lemon; MPreg; a smudge of drama, but not much; time skips
I hope you'll like it!
Sharing Is Caring
"And I expect that batch by Thursday!" Anthony Trekins demanded, his voice going a tad shrill near the end, before he stormed out of the lab in what he probably thought was a dramatic fashion, but really just made him look like the idiot everyone thought he was.
"You pissed in his cereals again?" Theo drawled, not even looking up from his task, which was stirring the silver ladle in the Star Grass Salve. He pulled his face back on time to avoid the puff of green smoke, signalling the potion was nearly finished.
Draco rolled his eyes, taking a step back from his own potion, which was a freshly brewed Sleeping Draught. "As if he's interesting enough to piss off," he scoffed, lifting up the first vial to fill it with the dark blueish potion. "Probably pissed off again because his latest complaint about me was dismissed. Again."
His fellow Potions Master smirked. "What was it this time again? You stole his files for the third time?" he asked mockingly.
"I believe that this time he tried accusing me of attempting to dose him with a Laxative Potion," Draco replied bored, putting the first filled vial in the crate next to him and picking up the second one to fill up.
"You should have done it. He might not be full of shit now then," Theo snickered, clearly enjoying the animosity between the Potions Master and Ministry employee.
Although, Draco mused as he put a cork in the third vial, can you really speak of animosity when only one of the two hates and the other one is indifferent?
From the moment he had started working for the Ministry as a Potions Master, Anthony Trekins – who oversaw the potion orders and made certain they were sent out to the right client – had done everything in his power to get Draco discredited and his degree as Potions Master revoked. Trekins would probably prefer to see him get thrown in Azkaban again as well, but unfortunately for him all of his complaints so far had been dismissed, with the cited reason being that there wasn't enough evidence to charge him.
Draco didn't have a clue whatsoever what he had done to call Trekins' wrath upon him. Was it because of his last name, his reputation or his past as Death Eater? He had no clue, and to be honest he didn't care either. As long as the Ministry paid him on time and they didn't try to fuck him over, he couldn't care less what one insignificant guy thought of him.
He had experienced worse than one simpleminded guy with a grudge after all.
"Got any plans this weekend?" Theo inquired casually after a moment of silence had passed, only broken by the bubbling of his potion.
"Harry's got the week off after his latest mission, so we're probably going to stay at home mostly. If I play my cards right, he might accompany me to Paris to a restaurant I've been wanting to try out for a while now," the blond wizard replied amused; his eyes automatically flitting to the golden ring adorning his finger, announcing to the whole world that he was married to none other than Harry Potter.
For three years already. Even the newspapers had given up their speculations by now whether they would split up soon or not. They were fools, every single one of them; as if Draco would ever consider breaking up with – or Merlin forbid, divorce – Harry.
They had come from too far and had fought for their relationship too strongly to give each other up now. As Draco had cheerfully informed the dark haired Saviour the morning after their wedding night: they were stuck with each other now and there was no going back.
Theo snorted, placing the silver ladle next to the simmering cauldron. "Good luck with that," he told him, knowing how much Harry despised what he referred to as 'pretentious rich people pubs'.
Draco, however, had confidence in his skills to convince his husband. By now he knew how to play the other man like a fiddle in order to get what he wanted – it worked in reverse as well, proof being there in the form of several ugly Weasley sweaters stuffed in the back of his closet and which he wore quite begrudgingly when they visited the Burrow during Christmas.
The things he did for Harry, honestly.
He left the lab two hours later after putting a cork in the last vial with Sleeping Draught. He was done for the weekend and he had no desire to be back in this place before Monday. It didn't happen often that Harry had more than a couple of days off, so he was planning on taking advantage of that.
It being a bit past seven o'clock most of the Ministry employees had already left for home and he didn't have to wait in a queue for the Floo. He took a pinch of the green grey Floo powder, threw it in the fire and stepped into it, calling out, "Lion's Guard!"
The flames eagerly licked his legs and the tips of his fingers and the last thing he saw before the green fire whisked him away was the fountain, standing lonely in the Atrium.
Several living rooms, kitchens, bedrooms and even an attic flashed by dizzyingly and he briefly closed his eyes before opening them again, right in time to catch sight of the familiar white tiles. Unlike Harry he managed to step out of the fireplace gracefully and he took a moment to brush away some soot particles before removing his robes, leaving him in a white shirt and black trousers. He stood in their small foyer, which only housed a hearth and a small, round table with a bowl of Floo powder on it. The white tiles gleamed softly in the dying flames of the fireplace.
Striding out of the foyer, he called out, "Harry?"
"In the living room!"
After depositing his robes on the back of a kitchen chair for the moment and filling a glass with some pumpkin juice, he leisurely made his way towards the living room, absentmindedly wondering what they would have as late dinner.
"How did the visit with your friends…" Draco trailed off and came to an abrupt halt when his eyes took in the view that met him the second he stepped through the door.
Harry was seated on the couch, legs stretched out along the length of the furniture, while reading a book. It was a casual scene, something Draco had encountered more than once when Harry had arrived home before him, but this time his eyes were glued onto a far more interesting – and unnerving – sight.
More specifically: Harry's stomach. Which was no longer flat as it had been this morning when Draco had left him behind in bed, but clearly rounded, looking like he had swallowed a watermelon whole.
Or was six to seven months pregnant.
What.
"Did you eat your weight in treacle tart?" Draco asked utterly stumped and mystified by the unusual sight.
Emerald green eyes shifted from the book towards the blond man lingering in the doorway and they rolled in a gesture of exasperation before the dark haired man closed his book, letting it rest on his lap. "Unfortunately not. Ron, the bloody idiot, thought it was wise to inform Hermione that carrying a baby couldn't be that exhausting," Harry drawled and paused, flicking his eyes to his bulging stomach before sighing and shrugging. "So she spelled him to look – and feel – like he's seven months pregnant. I kept my mouth shut, but apparently was guilty by association and now I'm like this." He gestured towards his belly with a grimace.
"What." Draco blinked, his brain still attempting to digest the information he had just received.
"Short version: pregnancy hormones are a bitch, Ron's an idiot, and now we both have to walk around for a week looking like this. Should we try to undo the spell before that, we will risk Hermione's wrath. I, for one, am not stupid enough to risk that, so here I am." Harry shrugged again, looking resigned in his fate. "At least I don't have to go to the office the whole week unlike Ron, so that's some small mercy."
Harry was spelled to look like he was seven months pregnant. Draco's brain practically shut down at that thought and he had to blink several times and clear his throat before he felt even the slightest hint of normalcy returning.
"So how complicated is this spell?" he inquired, cautiously taking a few steps closer; unable to tear his gaze off the protruding belly.
"Complicated enough to even simulate a baby's kicking and weight," Harry told him sombrely. "I'm planning on getting Ron back, though. Teach him to keep his goddamn mouth shut."
"Right." Draco nodded and slowly sank down at the end of the couch, watching how Harry's stomach gently rose up and down with each inhale and exhale of air.
"Looks weird, right?" Harry snorted, poking the right side of his belly. "The Muggles have this kind of contraption as well, but unlike they, I can't take this bloody thing off. You know how weird is it to see your stomach stretched like this?"
The blond wizard uttered a non-committal sound before tearing his gaze away from Harry's rounded stomach. If his husband took notice of his strange fixation on his belly, he didn't mention it.
"I'm going to warm up dinner," Harry sighed, stretching out his arms. In doing so, his sweater slipped up slightly, revealing a sliver of pale skin. Spending hours cooped up in an office or tracking down a suspect didn't allow hours spent in the sun to tan. "I made cottage pie."
"Sounds good," Draco muttered, but honestly at this moment Harry could have given him stale bread and some water and he would still have been fine with it. His mind was too occupied with how Harry looked like presently to have a real opinion about dinner.
Besides whatever dish Harry made, it always tasted great – which was quite odd actually when one took into account how utterly pants he had been at potions.
Harry swung his legs off the couch, nearly knocking his foot against Draco's knee, and stood up after a small struggle, which definitely didn't amuse Draco.
Absolutely not.
Something must have shown on his face, though, because green eyes scowled at him before their owner walked out of the room, his gait slightly different with the added weight in the front.
"Pregnant for a week, huh?" Draco murmured thoughtfully, crossing his legs.
Well, that would make for a very interesting week.
Draco had known his fair share of obsessions. He had had an obsession for three straight years with dragons when he was a child after his mother had told him what his name meant. Then there had been that obsession with watching his godfather brew potions, which had ultimately led to him becoming a Potions Master himself.
There had been that obsession with getting the perfect scores year after year and becoming frustrated whenever Granger managed to beat him. His sixth year at Hogwarts had him obsessed with fulfilling the Dark Lord's orders, all in an attempt to save his parents from torture.
By far his longest obsession had been Harry himself, starting from the moment he had heard about the Boy-Who-Lived when he was four years old and had wanted nothing more than to be his best friend. The obsession had grown throughout the years, turning ugly when Harry had refused his hand in their first year. It had taken many shapes: envy, despair, hatred, longing, want … Until he had finally realised what the real emotion, the biggest one occupying his whole being, was when he looked at Harry.
His father had muttered multiple times that the penchant for obsession definitely came from the Blacks and not the Malfoys.
No, Draco was definitely not a stranger to obsession.
Before, though, he had always been able to trace back the roots of his obsession, the why. There was a reason why he started obsessing about something, a source around which his obsession grew and expanded.
He couldn't immediately pinpoint any reason for his latest obsession and to say that he was dismayed was an understatement.
There was just something … mesmerizing, something fascinating about the way his husband looked like with a seven month pregnant belly. It should look unnatural, freakish even with them being able to use magic, but instead …
Instead it looked so normal.
That didn't make any sense of course. It should be weird to look at Harry lounging on the couch with a book balanced on his belly. It should repulse him, the oddly placed weight gain and the way he could feel something kick him when he brushed his hand against Harry's belly or pressed their bodies close for a kiss. It should weird him out to see Harry's stomach occasionally rippling whenever the spell simulated a baby moving around and kicking.
That it didn't, that he was fascinated, obsessed with Harry's belly in a positive sense, was mindboggling and he couldn't figure out why.
"I know that Hermione's spell makes me look like a freak, but after three days you should be used to it." Harry's voice, laced with irritation, broke through Draco's musing and he started, snatching away his hand which had been reaching out to touch Harry's belly.
He blinked, thrown off by the hard edge in the other man's voice. "What?"
It was Monday night; the fourth night that they went to sleep after Harry had got hit by the spell. Just like the previous three nights Harry was fussing around, scowling at nothing in particular until he had found a decent position to fall asleep in. He tended to prefer falling asleep on his stomach if their arms weren't wrapped around each other, but naturally the addition of his belly made sleeping on his stomach impossible now.
"You've been staring at it the whole evening already! Not to mention during the weekend as well. I know I look like a freak now, but there's no need to keep staring at it," Harry snapped, bristling and narrowing his eyes as he sat back up again. "Just a couple of more days and then the spells wears off, okay?"
"I don't think you're a freak," Draco retorted and narrowed his eyes in return, knowing how much Harry hated that particular word thanks to those vile Muggles he grew up with.
The dark haired man snorted and ran a hand through his hair, looking away. "Of course not. Pregnant looking blokes are an everyday occurrence, right?" he asked sarcastically before gesturing towards his swollen belly. "You can't tell me this looks normal," he bit out.
Draco stilled as realisation dawned upon him that this argument was about more than just because he had been caught staring. He hadn't thought about what this spell would do to Harry, what it would make him feel. He had appeared so blasé about it last Friday evening when he had informed the blond of what had happened that it had never occurred to Draco that his husband might actually be bothered with the way he looked right now.
Truthfully Draco saw no reason why Harry would be bothered by how he looked like currently. Yes, there was some weight gain, but he managed to pull that off somehow. There was nothing freakish or abnormal about his figure.
Well, Harry had always been strangely insecure about some aspects of his body, Draco reflected after thinking about it. It was one of his flaws, really, and quite a ridiculous one at that, because there was no need for the dark haired wizard to be so insecure.
Trying to get Harry to understand his view, however, was a whole different matter. Fortunately Draco knew a way to show his husband just how desirable he still was to him.
Harry 'oomphed' when a pair of hands pushed him back down; his legs fell open and Draco slotted in between them before they had a chance to close again. This also allowed him to keep Harry underneath him instead of giving him a way out to escape. Their stomachs brushed together even with Draco keeping most of his weight off Harry and green eyes scowled up at him.
"What are you doing?"
A blond eyebrow was quirked. "Given how many times we've been in this position before, I'd think you'd recognise where this is leading to," he quipped and smirked when the scowl intensified. "If my husband is under the disillusion that I don't find him attractive like this, it falls on me to rectify that, no?"
"I didn't say that to get pity," Harry retorted stiffly, his eyes already shuttering close and the blond man knew he had to act fast if he didn't want to leave the younger man with the wrong impression.
"The last thing you'll ever receive from me is pity," he said, harsher than he intended to, and brought their mouths together in a fierce, unforgiving kiss.
Harry uttered a surprised noise, which was easily swallowed up by their lips, and returned the kiss eagerly; his hands coming up to clamp down on Draco's shoulders, tugging him closer. Their hips rolled against each other and Harry gasped softly, fingers digging down in cloth covered skin before he suddenly broke off their kiss, turning his head to the side.
"The hell, Harry?" Draco asked, annoyed at the interruption.
A dark blush filled Harry's cheeks and he licked his lightly swollen lips before saying roughly, "You, eh, you don't have to do this to prove - "
"Potter, shut up," Draco said exasperatedly and snatched Harry's right hand from his shoulder, shoving it unceremoniously down into his pyjama trousers. An odd choking noise escaped the other man when his hand closed down around Draco's cock – which was definitely showing interest and in no way feeling like he had to prove something.
"You feel that?" Draco demanded, suppressing a moan when slender, slightly rough fingers slowly stroked up and down. "That's because I want you, you bloody idiot! I don't fucking care that you look pregnant right now. You still get me hot and bothered, you're still the same obnoxious twat with a great arse. Now are we done? Because I'd really like to fuck you right now."
He knew his words had managed to prick through that toxic bubble of insecurity when emerald green lightened up and turned sly. "Did you really just say that I get you 'hot and bothered'?" Harry questioned teasingly; his thumb flicking over the tip of Draco's cock. He yelped when teeth briefly closed down around a patch of skin right on the juncture between his neck and shoulder. His pale skin was already reddening when Draco brought his head back up.
"Don't get too cheeky with me now," he murmured and brought their mouths together again before the younger man could offer a retort.
Harry's hand disappeared and came up to grasp Draco's shoulder; a slender, deceptively strong leg swinging up around his hip. "Or what? You're going to punish me?" he smirked; his green eyes darkening with lust. The black of his pupils slowly devoured more of the bright, emerald green no longer hidden by the glasses laying on the nightstand.
Instead of a verbal answer, Draco just smirked in response and before the dark haired man could react, he swiftly slipped further down, closing his mouth around Harry's cock.
"Oh fuck!" Harry choked out; his legs on each side of Draco's head tensing up.
Draco grinned around his mouthful and then set to work, hollowing his cheeks as he slowly lifted his head until just the tip of Harry's cock remained in his mouth. He tongued the slit for a bit, teasingly licking around the head, before he lowered his head again and concentrated on relaxing his throat. He waited a second and then swallowed; lust flaring up even more in his belly when his lover gasped and moaned loudly. Legs quivered and a hand slipped through blond locks, fingers tightening around them as the older man bobbed his head up and down, throwing in every trick he knew. He started fondling Harry's balls, squeezing them gently while above him the younger wizard keened lowly; his breathing erratic and loud in the room.
He spotted the tell-tale signs of Harry's release approaching almost instantly. His breath started to hitch and every muscle in his body was tensing up; the hold on blond hair tightening almost imperceptibly as his legs rose up as if he wanted to brace himself.
Right before he would erupt, Draco abruptly pulled back and tightened his fingers around the base of Harry's dick, effectively stopping his climax.
Immediately green eyes flew open and Harry stared at him both in betrayal and frustration as he shot up. "What the fuck, Draco?" he barked out and swiped at him with his hand, which the blond man deftly avoided, having anticipated the action.
He grinned smugly, sitting up between Harry's legs and took note of how his lover's chest heaved up and down; his skin gleaming with a faint sheen of sweat. "That's your punishment for being cheeky," he informed him and grinned even wider when Harry scowled at him.
"You absolute git," Harry groaned, falling back on the bed as he ran his hands through his hair in frustration.
Draco chuckled, leaning forwards to kiss him. At first the dark haired man refused to open his mouth, keeping his lips petulantly shut together, but a few licks and some nibbling on his lower lip took care of that and he opened his mouth with a soft sigh; his warm breath mingling with that of Draco. They kissed leisurely for a while, their hands slowly mapping out each other's body, tweaking nipples, stroking sides, brushing stomachs …
They both stilled when their cocks – both flushing red now and dribbling pre cum a bit – slid against each other, reminding them of their state.
"Lube?" Draco questioned; his voice rougher than he expected. His left hand clenched around Harry's hip and he sat up a bit, licking his lips.
"Top drawer of your nightstand," Harry replied hoarse, blinking slowly as if to dispel a daze.
Too keyed up by now to tease his husband about his state, Draco hastily leant sideways and riffled through the drawer of his nightstand, pushing aside his watch and some quills. His fingers bumped against a cold vial and he extracted it out of the drawer quickly, uncorking it as soon as he had it securely in his hand.
The clear thick fluid slowly dripped out of the vial and coated his three fingers. Putting the vial to the side for now, he rubbed his fingers together to warm the lubrication up and then settled back between Harry's legs.
"You ready?" he murmured, his fingers already dipping between Harry's cheeks.
"Yes, get on with it," Harry groaned, spreading his legs even wider.
"So impatient," Draco mumbled, clucking his tongue, but his own need was starting to become too difficult to ignore and he pressed his index finger against Harry's opening, swirling the lube around the entrance before carefully slipping inside. Inner muscles contracted around the digit before they relaxed, allowing the intrusion to go in further.
Draco spent some time sliding his finger in and out, teasing the outer rim as his mouth sought out Harry's before he added a second finger. This addition caused a slight jolt to go through Harry and teeth briefly nipped at his lower lip before they were replaced with an apologetic kiss. He started spreading his fingers carefully, stretching his lover's entrance, and couldn't resist peeking downwards to watch his fingers get swallowed up easily. His mouth felt inexplicably dry at the sight and he licked his lips before tearing his gaze away with some effort, focusing on his husband's pleasure filled face.
His cheeks were a cherry red, gleaming with a sheen of sweat; his lips were already slightly swollen and a dark red. When they parted, the man beneath him panting, the blond caught glimpses of white teeth and a tongue sneaking out quickly to wet his mouth before a moan was torn out of him when Draco added a third finger, sliding deeper inside than before. One of his fingertips brushed against a smooth gland and Harry shuddered, hands shooting out to clutch at Draco's shoulders. His eyes shot open, revealing only a sliver of green as his pupils expanded, blown out with lust.
A thrill of excitement went through the older man at the sight and he pressed more firmly against Harry's prostate, enjoying the moans and whimpers his actions brought forth. When a particular high pitched moan left his lover, he abruptly pulled his fingers back, feeling like he would combust if he didn't get inside Harry this instant.
"Can I?" he rasped, already slathering the lubrication around his cock and shuffling closer to Harry's arse, resting the tip of his cock against his stretched entrance.
"Wait," Harry gasped around and Draco froze, worrying he had done something wrong. Hands pushed against his chest and bemused he allowed himself to be manhandled until he was the one lying down with the dark haired man straddling his thighs.
"This works out better," Harry murmured, glancing away embarrassed when grey eyes fixed themselves on his rounded belly. Hands came up, slipped around his hips and squeezed his pert arse, eliciting a startled groan out of the younger man.
"I'm not complaining about the view," Draco smirked, impulsively squeezing his cheeks again. "Would be better if I was in you, though."
Green eyes rolled, but a low chuckle escaped the dark haired man and he rose up on his knees, slipping his own hand behind his back.
This time Draco couldn't contain a moan when slender, wicked fingers gripped his shaft and pulled it towards him a bit. Then there was heat suddenly enveloping him, drawing him in deeper as Harry sank down and they both gasped when Harry bottomed out, his thighs resting flush against Draco's. Inner muscles contracted around Draco's dick, almost massaging it and he shivered, his hands gripping Harry's hips tightly as he forced himself to remain still.
Harry was panting loudly, his chest heaving with each inhale and exhale and after a moment he opened his eyes; if possible they were even darker with lust and Draco found it impossible to look away from them.
A wicked grin graced reddened, swollen lips and then Harry was moving, rocking back and forth at first, hands stroking and caressing every inch of Draco's chest and stomach they encountered. Right when Draco got used to the slow rocking movement, Harry rose up on his knees until only the tip of Draco's head rested inside his arse, before quickly sinking down again, squeezing his muscles at the same time.
"Fuck, Harry!" Draco moaned, biting down in his lip as fire erupted in his body and from there they started moving against each other in a frenzy; hands rubbing and caressing and stroking sweat slick skin while bruised mouths sought each other out, kissing and licking and nipping. Hot breath caressed their chins and cheeks; fingers ran through mussed up strands of black and blond and moans and groans and whimpers filled the air between them.
Harry's cock was profusely leaking by now and Draco knew it wouldn't take much anymore before his climax would grip him – hell, his own need was building rapidly, spreading out from his lower stomach to his chest, legs and arms, making his fingers tingle and his hips snapping upwards with a sudden urge, chasing after his own orgasm.
"Fu-fuck, just – just a bit more," Harry moaned; one of his hands gripping his prick and he started jacking off while grey eyes took in the spectacular view hungrily.
A few more strokes, his hips surging forwards, and then Harry was coming, spraying both his and Draco's stomach with his seed as his arse clenched and unclenched rapidly around Draco's cock. The sight of Harry throwing his head back, revealing his neck, while his mouth opened in a soundless scream, and his whole body shuddered and shook in the throes of his pleasure, was too much for Draco and he came too, driving his hips upwards one last time as he filled Harry's channel with his seed. Every muscle in his body was taut, tensed up, and he bit down on his lower lip, but a deep groan couldn't be muffled and white flashed behind his closed eyes as his own body was wrecked with the waves of his pleasure, drowning him in it.
When Draco finally came to, his entire body felt like he had been hit by the Boneless Heap Curse and he was pretty certain he wouldn't be able to move for hours. He was sticky, sweaty and exhausted, but Merlin was he satisfied.
Harry sank down next to him, looking equally spent and fucked out; his body still flushed and his fingers twitching as he panted. He licked his lips and turned his head slowly to look at Draco. "That was …" he trailed off, but the look in his eyes was telling enough.
"Yeah," Draco sighed in agreement and turned his hand around for Harry to slot his fingers between his. "Was this convincing enough for you?"
His husband chuckled; the sound rough and wrecked. "Can't complain," he replied, wincing when he shifted his legs a bit.
It was quiet for a while as their breathing evened out and their hearts stopped beating like they had just finished a marathon. Outside the sun had set completely, blanketing the two men in darkness.
"I love you," Draco murmured, brushing a kiss against Harry's shoulder.
"Love you too," Harry whispered and when their mouths met, it had none of their previous passion, but all the love they felt for each other.
They fell asleep with the sheets and their legs tangled together.
A few hours later grey eyes blinked open as the last vestiges of his dream left him. What didn't leave him was the comprehension of his obsession which his dream had gifted him.
Turning his head, he studied his lover's sleeping form quietly, taking note of the chest which rose up and down slowly; the eyelids which trembled slightly as the man dreamt and his slightly parted lips. His gaze slipped down towards the swollen stomach now hidden partly underneath the sheets and he brought his hand up to rest on Harry's side. The younger man shifted underneath his touch, making a low sound, but didn't wake up and stilled again; his own arm haphazardly splayed across Draco's chest.
Draco nodded thoughtfully, pushing the knowledge he had gained thanks to his dream in the back of his mind for now. He would consider it in more detail when he woke up again in a few hours.
For now it was good enough that he had finally unravelled the source of his obsession with the spell placed on his husband. He closed his eyes once more and let sleep take him away again.
"Have I what?" Harry blinked, taken aback. He paused in his removal of his robes and stared at the blond man bemused.
"Have you ever given any thought to the idea of having children of our own?" Draco repeated patiently, closing the book he had been reading. With Harry still having been on a mission, he had been the first to arrive home and had spent his time reading to distract himself. After two weeks of contemplating the idea, wondering how he should breach the question to his husband, he had figured today that there was no point in keeping quiet about it any longer. For better or for worse, he would have his answer tonight.
The younger man furrowed his eyebrows, eyeing his husband warily as he divested himself of his robes, plopping down in the armchair. "Does this have something to do with the spell Hermione used?" he demanded, narrowing his eyes as he ran a hand through his hair.
Two weeks ago Granger had removed the spell which had made her friend look pregnant and the man was obviously relishing being freed from the magic.
The blond wizard hesitated for a moment, but realised quickly that Harry would immediately know if he twisted the truth even a little bit. "Partly," he admitted, crossing his legs. "I never gave much thought about having our own children, but the spell … it made me start thinking about it."
Harry slowly breathed out; a deep frown marring his forehead. "I never really thought about it," he confessed after a moment; a myriad of emotions flashing by too quickly on his face for Draco to make sense of them. "In school I was too busy worrying what Voldemort was planning and now … I just never stopped to think about it."
Well, that wasn't a no yet.
Ignoring the wince that travelled through him at hearing the Dark Lord's name, Draco asked, "Would you be against us having children of our own?"
Harry settled deeper into the armchair, crossing his ankles. "I'm not," he answered slowly, contemplatively. His eyes flashed and wariness coated his voice as he questioned, "Do you think they'll make a fuss about us adopting a child?"
Because you were a former Death Eater was the unspoken thought which followed that inquiry and Draco grimaced. "The adoption services would most likely act rather … difficult," he begrudgingly acknowledged. Difficult was probably an understatement; Trekins wasn't the only person who expected Draco to profess his undying worship of the Dark Lord and strut around in Death Eater garb. It had been several years since the war had ended, but that didn't matter for some people. There was but a slim chance that an adoption agency would give a former Death Eater a chance to adopt one of their children.
"That's what I thought," Harry muttered; the corners of his mouth pulled downwards.
Now came the difficult part of this conversation. "But I wasn't thinking of adopting a child," Draco said slowly, before hastily tacking on, "Unless you really want to, of course. I'm sure we can figure something out."
"If you weren't thinking of adopting, then what were you thinking?" Harry asked bemused, cocking his head to the right. "Oh, do you mean surrogacy?"
Surrogacy was a legal hornet's nest which he wasn't willing to poke with a twenty foot stick. "Not surrogacy; that's just asking for trouble," he retorted, rolling his shoulders. Nerves made his stomach flip upside down as he forced himself to go on, "No, no surrogacy or adoption but our own children. Children who – who one of us would carry."
He had imagined a couple of reactions Harry might have to this particular suggestion. They had ranged from him outright refusing to him becoming pissed off and accusing Draco of making fun of him because he had been under that spell for a week. He had prepared himself for each reaction and had tried to find a counterargument against whatever Harry would end up saying.
He did not expect Harry to start laughing.
Baffled he watched how his lover's cheeks steadily reddened more and more as laughter kept pouring out of him; his eyes scrunched shut. He sounded beyond amused, as if he had just heard a great joke and couldn't stop laughing. It was a bit unsettling to be honest.
"Sorry, but you looked so serious when you suggested that," Harry sighed, wiping away some tears. Laughter was still dancing in his bright shimmering eyes and he looked ready to start laughing all over again any second now.
"That's because I am serious," Draco stated with a frown. "I'm sorry; I thought you knew men could become pregnant through ingesting some potions." Harry's amused reaction made a lot more sense if he took into account the fact that he hadn't known men could become pregnant. It was sometimes all too easily to forget that the dark haired man had been raised by Muggles for a good part of his life before he entered the Wizarding World.
Harry released a sigh, slumping back into the armchair. "Of course there are potions for that. Don't know why I'm still surprised." He rubbed his temples; a light frown marring his forehead.
Well, at least he wasn't angry. That was a good start.
They discussed it in more detail. Draco explained which potions would need to be taken and how they would work to create all the necessary organs needed to carry a child to full term. He admitted that a part of their magic would be used to sustain the pregnancy and that the pregnancy would take up more energy than it did by women, purely because they needed the aid of magic to have a baby. Carrying a baby as a man wasn't any more dangerous than carrying one as a woman, though; men just tired quicker because their magic was more involved.
Harry listened attentively, looking pensively the whole time, and after Draco had stopped talking, he requested some time to think about it. Draco reassured him he could take all the time he needed; having a child together wasn't something one decided in just a few seconds, especially not if that decision involved carrying a child and not adopting one. Draco had had plenty of time to think about it and he was certain he wanted to have a baby with his husband. Harry, however, only just now learnt that it was possible for men to carry children and needed the time to think about it.
If Draco had to be honest, he had to admit that he would be disappointed if Harry refused to have a baby now, but he wasn't planning on forcing a child on him either. They both had to be on board or it wouldn't happen at all.
A week and a half after their discussion Draco was in the kitchen preparing tea for the both of them. He had finished a large batch of Wolfsbane today and Harry had returned from his three day mission – thankfully without any major injuries.
As he waited for the water to boil, a pair of slender, but deceptively strong arms slipped around his waist and Harry hooked his chin over Draco's right shoulder. "Let's have a baby together," he murmured.
Draco smiled and squeezed the hands interlaced on his stomach.
He stepped out into the foyer, dusting off the soot stubbornly clinging to his robes as he grumbled about Trekins. One would think that git would eventually give up when he saw that all his efforts to get Draco sacked were for nought, but he was stubborn to the point of being stupid. With a bit of luck, the Ministry would get as tired of his complaints as Draco was and give him the sack.
Leaving the foyer, he called out, "Harry?" Unless his paperwork had been more than expected – which wouldn't surprise Draco given his husband's proclivity for ignoring his paperwork – then the younger wizard should be home right now.
"In the living room!"
He shrugged off his robes and draped them haphazardly over a kitchen chair, running a hand through his locks, before making his way to the living room. Pausing in the doorway, he took in the pleasant sight that met him.
Harry was stretched out on the couch, his legs draped over the firm cushions, as he browsed through a Quidditch magazine. The magazine was resting against his rounded stomach, in which he had been carrying their son for six months already.
A smile tugging on his lips, Draco crossed the room and sank down on his knees in front of the couch, meeting Harry's lips for a soft kiss. "How are you two doing?" he asked, resting his hand on top of Harry's belly. His smile widened when he felt a soft kick aimed at his palm.
Harry chuckled, closing the magazine. "We're fine; for once he isn't using my bladder as a punching ball," he remarked dryly. "Hermione says she'll be meeting us tomorrow after our check-up. She's bringing Rose with her, but Ron is taking up a shift at George's shop."
"You mean I'll have to miss watching him inhale his lunch instead of eating it at a decent pace?" Draco retorted with a light sneer.
Green eyes rolled and Harry punched him softly in his shoulder in defence of his friend. "Be nice," he scolded the older man, but his eyes shone with amusement, proving he wasn't that offended or angry.
Draco sniffed. "I'm always nice. Right, Scorpius?" he cooed, pressing a kiss on Harry's cloth covered stomach. He received a kick, a stronger one than before, in return.
After deciding they were ready to have a child, Draco had immediately prepared the necessary potions, eager to have a baby as soon as possible. Harry being the stronger one of them two when it came to magical power had offered to carry the child and now he was twenty-three weeks pregnant. They had already decided on a name and were now in the progress of turning the room next to their bedroom in a nursery. In less than five months they would be welcoming their first child and they could hardly wait until they could hold him in their arms.
Who would have thought that a simple spell meant as punishment would lead to them expecting their own child? Draco certainly hadn't, but he wasn't about to complain. He was married to the most amazing man in the world and soon they would have a son joining their little family. He wouldn't change a thing about his life.
And Weasley? Well, this time Weasley had learnt to keep his mouth shut. Clearly being cursed once had been enough to hammer the lesson into his thick skull.
Fingers lifted his chin and turned his head to the side before soft lips covered his own. "I love you," Harry whispered against his mouth; his eyes shining as brightly as the stars outside.
Draco smiled and closed his eyes, feeling their son press back against his palm. "I love you too," he murmured and their mouths met again.
As they exchanged loving kisses, their son tumbled underneath their joined hands.
The End
AN2: Not entirely sure about the ending, but yeah *clears throat* I hope it wasn't too bad!
Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me!
I hope to see you all in my future stories!
Cuddles
Melissa
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