Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

To Find The Missing Lifeline	By : EvilConcubine Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 37355 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I don't make money from this story.

Chapter List
- 18
- 19
- 20
18. Stepping Carefully

     Goyle visited sooner than expected, but Draco didn't mind. They were in his sitting room. He was hiding under the blanket again, so Goyle decided that he was ill, like Harry had decided when he'd visited, before finding out the truth. Gregory's appearance hadn't changed a lot, but he'd matured noticeably, though, it wasn't something new for Draco, because he'd seen him on the pictures that his friend had been sending with his letters. It seemed quite odd for them both to speak in person again after not seeing each other for a long time and after some time of communicating only by sending letters. So, at first, they both felt awkward. Gregory had always been a person, who needed some time to accommodate to his interlocutor, and even if it had changed in some way and even if he'd known Draco for a long time, he still needed time to get into an easy conversation. The blond felt no better. Sad, but true, - they reminded each other of the things they would both have preferred to forget. But soon the barriers started to melt and they found a lot of topics to discuss.

"You wrote you had some news. I'm intrigued," Draco smiled a little.

"Ah... The news. Yes. Remember I mentioned a young woman from Slovakia in my letters?"

"I remember."

"I'm getting married," Gregory said with a sigh.

"Congratulations. Though... You don't look quite happy about it. What's wrong?"

"She's pregnant. Twins. She's a good young woman and I like her a lot. I even thought about marrying her before, but I'm still confused that it all has happened so soon," Gregory explained.

"I don't know what to say. Do you think you'll be all right with that?" the blond asked.

"Yes, I hope so. She wasn't ready for it too. We wanted to wait with the marriage, but she's from a pureblood family, too, and they don't want to lose their face, of course. So, it's decided," his friend said with a small smile. He showed the picture of his wife to be and told some things about her. She was two years older than Goyle. A little plump, but very good-looking witch with the dark-red hair and with the good taste in clothes.

"Do you get along with her family?" The blond asked.

"Yes. Mostly. But their family councils..." Gregory made an expression of annoyance on his face.

"Is it their usual kind of routine?"

"It's a tradition. They gather every last Saturday of the month. They have quite a big family. All their children, some with their wives or husbands... You have to have a very good excuse not to be there. Gods. Imagine something twice as boring and unbearable as Binns' lessons."

"How entertaining. What a nice way to spend your Saturday," Draco chuckled. "Was that the way they engaged you into this marriage business - invited you to the one of their... umm... parties and issued an ultimatum: 'marry or we'll bore you to death'?"

"Very funny," Gregory smirked.

"So, when?"

"Next month."

"Quite soon."

"Yes. Someone's afraid not to look good enough in her wedding dress if we wait any longer."

"I'm glad you've found time to visit me."

"Actually, I wanted to invite you. I'd like you to be my best man," Gregory said. Draco's face became sad.

"Believe me, I'd gladly accept the honour, but I can't. And I'm sorry."

"I see. That's all right, you don't have to explain yourself. You wouldn't have met me like this... I mean, lying under the blanket, if you were all right. So, you're ill, aren't you?" Gregory asked carefully.

"Not quite. I have some things to tell you, too. I couldn't write about it without seeing your reaction," the blond sighed.

"What's wrong?" Goyle asked, looking concerned and preparing himself to hear something terrible as his friend's face paled a little and there was some tension in his features. Draco took some time to collect himself and told him everything. He told him what Lucius had done to him and what he'd intended to do, giving him to the Dark Lord, so Draco could have given birth to his new body. Gregory buried his face in his hands, shaking his head in disbelief. Draco actually expected him to run away, screaming, any moment. He also told him about who'd made him pregnant and Goyle's eyes nearly popped out of his head. He interrupted Draco twice to go out on the balcony, to have a cigarette from his silver cigarette case, just to calm down. Draco was even a little amused by his reaction. Just in case, his wand was under the pillow, but he saw nothing threatening to use it to erase Gregory's memory about this confession.

"Are you still my friend?" he asked bluntly when he'd finished his story. Goyle inhaled deeply. He was silent for a few seconds.

"I am. Well... Of course, I am, but," he then said, but frowned a little: "Merlin, you could have warned me somehow; you could have given me a hint in your letters, for example. You can't do such things to people all of a sudden! For gods' sake, Draco..." He moaned and pressed a hand to his face again.

"I know, I know. Sorry," the blond chuckled. "How many sweets exactly do you need to recover? Or you only prefer cigarettes now?"

"I smoke when I'm nervous and there was no way to listen to you without it. But I still like sweets. And you'll need a damn lot of it to make me recover."

"So... What do you want to name... your son?" Goyle asked when Florie had served them tea with sweets.

"It's not a final decision, but for now I call him Narcissus," Draco replied.

"I see..." Gregory nodded, understanding his choice of name.

"And what about you? What do you want to name your twins?"

"We haven't decided yet. She's only been pregnant for three months or so. We don't even know yet if they are girls or boys. Gods, I still can't believe it. You're pregnant. You! I escaped my pregnant fiancée, just to find my friend in the same condition. Guess I'm cursed."

"I just have to ask you to be quiet about it."

"Of course. I'll be silent as the grave, I swear," Goyle nodded and cast a glance at Draco's belly. He could see it now as the blond had gotten rid of the blanket, because there was no point in hiding after his story. Draco saw that glance.

"Does it look disturbing?" he asked, realising that not everyone would find it attractive.

"No. It's not about that... I just... I just worry about you."

"Why?"

"Never mind," Goyle waved off. Saying that he was worried about Draco's health and that his condition could even put his life in danger, weren't good things to voice. But the blond understood him without words, though he remained quiet too.

     Later Draco offered his friend some whisky, but, certainly, wasn't drinking it with him. They were talking about the past: something to laugh about and something to be sad. And then Goyle was thinking about Draco's story again. He'd already decided for himself that, without any doubts, everything was Potter's fault. He thought that the presumptuous Gryffindor had used the opportunity when Draco had needed protection and help, so he'd drawn the blond into the certain kind of a relationship. Any arguments, that Draco had a mind of his own and had been more than willing to start that relationship, would be invalid. No one could break his own logical chain in his head; Potter had used his friend and had obviously caused a lot of suffering. Potter had made him pregnant. And then he'd just dumped him with a good help of Weasleys! Two deep wrinkles appeared between Gregory's eyebrows.

"I'll kill him," he said suddenly.

"Who?" Draco blinked at him.

"Potter, who else? I don't care if he was cursed or not. Who does he think he is? Just say a word and I'll break his spine."

"I'll think about it," Draco shrugged. He wasn't serious, of course; just wanted to cease Goyle's fit of the righteous anger, warmed up with a couple of glasses of the strong drink. "But... Let's talk about something else, all right? I don't want to think about him now."

"Right. He doesn't deserve it."

     They were talking till the morning. The conversation was sincere and they felt like they could tell a lot of things to each other without feeling uncomfortable about it. Both of them wordlessly admitted that now they were closer than they'd ever been. But at the first light of day Draco became drowsy, and finally he gave in and fell asleep on the canapé. Goyle decided to follow his example and fell asleep in the armchair. After a couple of hours of sleep they had their breakfast and then it was time for Goyle to leave.

"Too bad you can't stay any longer," Draco sighed.

"I'm leaving in the evening, but I have some things to do before that," Gregory replied, pulling a face. Obviously, he wasn't looking forward to it, whatever it was.

"Family matters? Things to settle before the wedding?" Draco guessed.

"Uh-huh. A lot of little things to take care of always create a big problem, you know."

"You don't say."

     Accompanying him to the outer door, Draco noticed that Goyle was towering almost two heads above him now; and the blond felt diminutive even if he'd always been smaller and twice as thin.

"Gods, when are you going to stop growing?" Draco raised his eyebrow, looking up at him.

"I think I've reached my limit already," Goyle grinned.

     The words of good-bye were hard to say when they got to the door. Surprising them both, Draco wrapped his lean arms around his friend's mighty shoulders and sighed.

"See you..." he said.

"What is it? My prince has gone soft, eh?" Goyle smirked, returning the friendly hug. Draco let him go, sneered and dealt him a good slap on the back of the head.

"Better now?" he asked, smirking. Gregory chuckled.

"You better be okay, Draco," he said seriously. "If you'll need any help, just owl me and I'll do whatever I can. Owl me anyway."

"Thank you. It means a lot to me. I hope you'll send me some pictures after your wedding."

"You'll have all of them," Goyle promised cheerfully. "Bye."

     Draco watched his friend coming out and disapparating, and then he returned to his rooms, feeling sad and asking himself where his early, carefree school years had gone. He entered his study and looked at the letter on the table, still unsent to the one it meant to be sent to. He still couldn't bring himself to do it. Why was it that hard just to send a letter? This time he promised himself to do it... after a good nap, because he was still sleepy after only a few hours of sleep this morning.

     Harry was destroyed. He blocked everyone from flooing in, from firecalling him, from apparating to his house; ignored the mail. He knew it was unfair, because his friends, surely, tried to contact him, but he couldn't talk to anyone. Draco's words were still ringing in his head, hurting him over and over again: '...How could you do this to us?! I tried to convince myself that you were dead! And I wish you were!! Stay away from us!..' And those that had followed him on the way to the stairs when he'd been running away: '...You ruin everything! Now I see why people die around you! You're not a hero, you're just a bastard! Get out!..' He hadn't meant those shocking and cruel words, Harry knew it, he knew Draco; the blond had given way to his pain, wanted to hurt back, and he'd succeeded, anyway. Those words had been cried out of pain, not out of hatred; but it didn't matter, because Harry had failed to set things right, and he'd even made them worse - Draco had had a breakdown... in his condition. Was he all right now, after that? Harry knew Draco wasn't, and he was worried sick because of it. Draco was with child... He'd had them both in his arms before, when the blond had fainted in the Great Hall and Harry had carried them to the infirmary, though he had had no idea about it, of course. 'If I only knew...' No, even before that. They'd been together, still happy, probably before Harry's mind had been affected, before he'd started to avoid their dates and lie, and Draco had already been pregnant. 'More than seven months ago...' He imagined how complete they both would have been if only the circumstances were different, if only they'd never broken up. '...When I really needed you and your concerns, you were snogging with Weasley in front of me...' Harry grabbed the bottle of firewhisky, but put it down - the smell of alcohol was sickening. He hadn't been there with Draco, who'd been alone in this. No, he hadn't been alone, he had Snape. Even if he and Harry disliked each other, Harry knew Snape loved his godson and he would kill for him. But it wasn't the same; Harry was the father of the child, he'd had to be there to support Draco, to take care of him, but he hadn't... So many things were lost. He was lost. He couldn't sleep, because regrets and memories were tearing him apart, he couldn't talk to anyone, because he wouldn't be able to explain what he'd felt when he'd seen Draco's face again, how much he'd wanted to touch him, to hold him. He wouldn't be able to explain what he'd felt when Draco had pressed his hand to his round belly and Harry had felt the movements against his palm; the feeling had been wonderful, surprising, heartbreaking, startling and a little scary, at the same time, because he worried about Draco. 'I'm going to be a father. It's my baby...' He repeated it ten times or even more, but it was still too much to take in.

     He only left his house in the day of Ginny's trial. Testifying against her, he remained cold and calm, and left even before the verdict was announced. Hermione and Ron tried to follow him, tried to talk to him, but he left them behind. Later Ron convinced his father to interfere. It was Hermione's idea. He got an Auror at his disposal and a permission to break Harry's wards, as Ron insisted that Harry's life was probably in danger (even if he doubted that it was that bad, he knew Harry wasn't okay).

     Harry wasn't startled, feeling someone ruining his wards. When Ron and some stranger entered the room, he just looked at them impassively, sitting on the window sill. The redhead let the Auror go, thanking him for his help, and the man left. Ron was relieved to see Harry sober, because he'd thought that his friend had been drinking for days.

"Harry, what do you think you're doing?" he frowned. Harry just sighed. Ron sat down. "What happened to you?"

"A lot of things," the brunet replied quietly.

"Why are you ignoring us? We didn't know what to think."

"Just wanted some time alone."

"It's... about Malfoy, isn't it?" the redhead said. Harry closed his eyes and lowered his face and Ron suspected that the worst thing had happened. "Oh... I'm so sorry, Harry. So, he..."

"No," Harry interrupted, shaking his head. "Thank goodness, he's alive."

"Then what happened? He refused to talk to you then?" Ron asked. Harry was silent for more than a minute, staring out the window that hadn't been cleaned for many years.

"Ron... What does it take for a man to get pregnant?" he asked suddenly. The question confused the redhead.

"Why are you asking?"

"Just tell me."

"I... don't really know. It's possible. As far as I know, there are potions. Very expensive and very hard to brew."

"What else do you know?"

"Nothing special. It's rather uncommon thing. I don't understand why anyone would do something like that. It's dangerous. Anything can go wrong and... Harry..." Ron's eyes widened. "What's on your mind?" he asked even more confused. "Oh, no... Don't tell me. No." He closed his ears with his hands, shaking his head, as the frightening suspicions hit him. But then he forced himself to listen, hoping that Harry would dispel those suspicions.

"I found him, Ron. He's pregnant with my baby." Harry didn't look back when he heard Ron's gasp. He kept talking against the dirty glass of the window, leaving the misted spot with his breath. "He was pretty upset when he saw me; to say the least of it. Of course, he's angry with me, because of what happened between us. He can't forgive me. And I wasn't there with him when he needed my support. He needed it... I can only imagine how hard it was for him. I wasn't ready for that talk, too, so it was... I only made him cry. Ron, you have no idea..." Harry stopped talking as he'd started to stutter.

"Merlin... Why would he do that to himself?" the redhead frowned a little.

"It wasn't him. He didn't explain; like I said, our talk was a disaster... Lucius did something to him to make it possible. That's all he said. Maybe Lucius added those potions to Draco's meal or something... I'm not sure I want to know why he did it to his son. No, I don't want to know," Harry shook his head.

"But... that's terrible!" Ron exclaimed, filled with indignation. "If anyone did anything like that to me, I think I'd just..." he became silent and just exhaled noisily.

"I just know that he wants this baby. He was very protective. And he doesn't want me anywhere near them," Harry sighed. 'Even if he wants, he's too hurt to forgive me.'

"But are you sure the baby's yours?" the redhead asked. Harry nodded.

"You must not tell anyone about it. Not yet. Promise me."

"Okay," Ron said. Harry became anxious again:

"Ron, I'm scared for Draco, I'm really scared," he confessed with the hurt in his voice. "There's nothing I want more than to be with him. I should be there with him, but everything's ruined and I..." He was harshly interrupted by something very startling and unexpected, and that 'something' hit the window from the outside. Harry jumped, expecting that it would shower his face with the shards of the broken glass, and quickly slid down from the window sill, grabbing his wand from the small table next to it. But, surprisingly, the window withstood the attack. Ron flinched, too, and stood up quickly.

"What the hell was that?!" he exclaimed. Both flinched again, when what had hit the window, appeared in front of it again. It was an owl and it wanted to get in.

"Fucking bird!" Ron growled.

"I wonder whose..." Harry frowned, but all his indignation died, once he noticed the painfully familiar handwriting on the envelope that was tied to the owl's leg. 'To Harry Potter.' He felt dizzy. He opened the window with some effort as quickly as he could, as it resisted at first.

"What are you doing? This bird is mad," Ron said, moving back, just in case, when the owl alighted on the windowsill. It allowed Harry to untie the letter, but it looked like it was about to peck him to death or bite off his fingers.

'Harry,

     Although, I really doubt that that was exactly the reason of my breakdown, I have mood swings that make me too edgy sometimes. I overreacted. I'm not asking your forgiveness; don't expect that from me. But I must apologise for embarrassing myself like that. I saw you and it confused me. No, confusion is an underestimation. You were the most unexpected visitor. Memories rushed into my mind. Many things happened since our break up. I hoped I could bury the past, including you, so now I don't really know what to do. I haven't succeeded in leaving the past behind, so far, and it hurts me a lot to look back.

     We can try to talk again sometime; if you're still interested, of course. I hope this time I'll be able to control myself enough for a civil talk. I can't promise anything else, though.

     Please, let me know beforehand if you intend to visit. I have to be morally prepared. But I'm not waiting for you.

     Draco.'

     Harry inhaled deeply, feeling weak in the knees. 'You were asking for a chance, and here it is, it seems,' he told himself. Standing next to him, Ron tried to repress his curiosity. He saw that his friend's face looked pale, thoughtful and a little worried. The annoyed bird fluffed out its feathers and was pacing the windowsill, making the clicking sounds with its sharp claws. Harry shooed the owl away and closed the window.

"What is it?" the redhead asked.

"Ron..." Harry almost whispered.

"Yes?"

"If screw up, kill me."

     Draco was restless after sending a letter. He wasn't expecting the immediate answer, deciding that Harry needed time to think, but... he was restless.

     At sunset the white owl flew in with the message in her beak. It was Snowflake. She literally put the message in his hands herself and flew away. Draco unfolded it uncertainly, feeling tense.

     'Dear Draco,

     I'm already here. Sorry if this message isn't 'beforehand' enough. Couldn't wait any longer. But I'll wait here if you need time. It's okay if you're not ready to see me right now, don't worry, please.

     Harry.'

     Draco couldn't believe it. He went out on the balcony and looked out. His heart sank. Harry was there, in front of the wards and he was looking back softly. The blond forced himself to keep his growing panic under control. It seemed Harry had set out to him, once he'd received the letter, without waiting, without thinking. That was frustrating, because he'd ignored Draco's request. But the blond decided to suppress all his bitter resentments, he didn't want to end up with another breakdown and he'd promised a civil talk. He took several deep breaths and let Harry in through the wards. He was waiting for him in his sitting room.

     Harry entered the house. On his way to the stairs he saw an elf.

"Hello," he said. She didn't reply, looking at him with anger and pout on her face. He remembered that Snape had promised to bury him alive in the garden and Harry was sure that the little creature would gladly help her master with that. Speaking of Snape: the man was sitting in the living room and writing something, completely ignoring the visitor and his very quiet greeting, which he'd doubtlessly heard. 'Great,' Harry thought. First, the furious bird that had delivered Draco's letter, then this angry elf, who was still trying to incinerate him with her eyes, and, finally, Snape, who found Harry so unworthy of his attention, that he did not once look at him and kept writing. 'You're my last hope, Draco,' Harry thought sarcastically, though, he didn't know if he should smile or cry at this. In fact, he wasn't insulted by a cold welcome, especially after what had happened the last time he'd been in this house; Draco had had a breakdown and everyone, apparently, blamed Harry, however, he shared their feelings completely. But now he was concerned about the forthcoming talk and he had to be calm and reasonable. He knocked at Draco's sitting room.

"Come in," the blond said. Harry entered and sat down. Draco was sitting on his favourite canapé, his back was propped up with the pillow again, but this time there was no blanket to hide under.

"How do you feel?" Harry asked.

"Fine," Draco replied. They were silent for some time, looking at each other covertly. Neither of them knew how to start the conversation.

"Thank you for writing me a letter." It was Harry who broke the silence. "I was thinking about writing you, but you forestalled me. I just wanted to wait a little."

"So, you still refuse to give up?"

"How can I give up?.. I just didn't want to upset you any further. I care for you, Draco," Harry said quietly. He noticed that Draco frowned a little for a second and then he changed the subject:

"I saw an article about you on the day of the trial."

"I'm sure it was full of lies," the brunet smiled a little.

"I don't know, I didn't pay much attention to it," Draco lied. 'I read it, at least, twice...' "And I wasn't there to judge. Do you regret testifying against her?"

"Yes and no. I don't feel well about making her family suffer, but she deserved it. I did what I had to."

"Very sensible of you."

"What she's done... What she's done to us couldn't go unpunished."

"Indeed, it couldn't..." Draco sighed. Harry was pensive for a few moments, and Draco didn't interrupt his thoughts. He noticed that the brunet was looking at his belly.

"I want you back, Draco," Harry said quietly, looking in Draco's eyes this time. At first, the blonde's features sharpened a little, but then his face was hard to read, and Harry continued: "I don't want anyone else. I just can't see myself with anyone else at all. It's just you. I want to have a family with you. I want to make up for the lost time." These were brave and straightforward things to say, Draco could give him that. "I understand; you must be very disappointed in me."

"It's not just that," Draco said after a few seconds of silence. "People will talk a lot about it. I'm not concerned about myself, because they won't hate me more than they already do. I don't have any good reputation to ruin."

"I don't give a damn about them!" Harry frowned a little, but not at Draco. "I owe them nothing. I've done enough already."

"You don't see my point at all..." Draco shook his head and averted his eyes. "It's not just about you and me now. When those idiots at school were attacking me, it was such an indication... When they were out of their insults and jokes about me being a Death Eater, Voldemort's lackey, murderer and other things, including my mother's death by Lucius' hands... Well... Eventually, they started to repeat themselves or say the other things, and, believe me, they weren't smart and original. Harry, no matter what I do or say, no matter what you do or say, people will always remember me as a threat, as a younger copy of Lucius, even if I'm not like him. Save your breath and face it. I'm not going to try to change their opinion. I don't care what they think of me, but, unfortunately, we all live in the society and depend on it one way or another. Can you see it now? For some time I've been avoiding it successfully, but you can't avoid it, Harry, so you'll draw their attention to me and, even worse, to a child. I... I'd probably give a lot just to be with you..." He fell silent for a moment as he started to feel that he was losing his voice. 'I'd risk my sanity again...' he thought miserably. "But I can't sacrifice my... our child. I would have rather got rid of him when I had a chance than let him suffer all the hatred I suffered, and let him be a scapegoat and a pariah like myself. Consider me a coward, if you must, but I'm scared for him and for myself. You'll draw the attention to him, it's inevitable. If anyone hurts him, I... I don't know what I'll do," he whispered and closed his eyes, laying his hands on his belly protectively, without thinking. Harry felt heartbroken at this and there was nothing he wanted more than to comfort Draco, to soothe his anxiety with a delicate touch. He wasn't sure if he would be welcome to do it, though.

"You're not a coward. You've been through a lot and... But you can't hide him forever," he said gently.

"I'm not going to lock him up. But, without you around, no one will know that he's yours. No one will find out somehow that I was pregnant with him and gave him birth. No one will think that I've set this up just to have you with me. If they'll blame me, they'll blame him, too."

"Let me take care of it. I won't let anyone hurt you or baby. Please, trust me, you can leave it to me," Harry promised. Draco noticed that the brunet was approaching slowly.

"You sound so confident. I'm confused..." he said, still uncertain.

"I understand," Harry said. He was on his knees now, in front of Draco, and took his hand in his, half-expecting that the blond would pull his hand out, but he didn't. The touch was reassuring. They were silent. Harry was caressing Draco's palm with his fingertips. The sincere green eyes were looking in his, and Draco was captivated, failing to avert his own eyes this time. He only closed them when he started to feel that he was drowning.

"And you also shouldn't expect me to be in good terms with your friends," he said suddenly, though he didn't really know why he was saying it. "I dislike some of them and I don't care about the others. I'm saying it in case you'll change your mind later, just because I won't be very friendly with them. I won't start any feud if they won't, of course, and I'm not going to stand in the way of your friendship, but expect nothing more than that."

"Draco, if you're trying to dissuade me or scare me away, you don't sound convincing at all," Harry smiled.

"I just want you to be aware of..."

"I'm aware," the brunet nodded, interrupting him. "I'm aware..." he repeated. He was looking at Draco's belly for some time, and he could swear, he saw it moving (or it was just Draco's breathing). He was itching to touch it. "May I..?" he whispered. Draco nodded. Harry's tentative and slightly trembling hand touched his belly carefully as if the touch could hurt someone. The blond rolled his eyes at this. He sighed and moved Harry's hand a little higher, where he could feel the movements better, and pressed it a little harder. Harry held his breath.

"Amazing..." he said quietly. "So... A boy then." he nodded.

"Yes," Draco replied.

"What is it like? I want to know everything."

"It was scary at first. I was shocked and terrified when I found out. The sickness was terrible: I felt dizzy, I fainted several times, could hardly keep any meal down. I... tried to terminate the pregnancy. No, I didn't really try, but I wanted to. It got better in the end of the school year. I was already showing, but I was hiding... And I already wanted this child. He's a part of me... I started to feel him moving. Everything was quite fine from the fourth to the seventh month. Now I feel tired most days, my back hurts and for three days already I've been trying to move his leg away from my ribs somehow, but, it seems, he feels comfortable to stick his foot or both feet under them," Draco said and sighed. Harry was devouring his every word and was speechless for a minute.

"Does it hurt?" he asked sympathetically.

"It's uncomfortable and sometimes it's hard to inhale. It hurts only when he kicks me hard."

"What else does he do in there?" Harry asked. Draco could see that the brunet was tormented by curiosity and worry.

"A great many things, especially when I'm trying to sleep. Sometimes it seems he's a night owl, and sometimes he wakes me up early in the morning. Perhaps, when I'm walking or just moving, it rocks him to sleep; I don't know. He sucks his fingers sometimes. Once, when Pomfrey examined me, she saw him holding a navel cord in his hand. I feel the way he's turning, kicking, trying to straighten himself. He can even hiccup; it only happened once and it scared me a bit," Draco said. Harry was still touching his belly, but the baby was already calm.

"Goodness..." he sighed at Draco's words.

"That's all right, many children do things like that."

"When did you find out?"

"Hmm... It was almost in the middle of March, I believe."

"So when you fainted in the Great Hall and I brought you to the infirmary, you already knew?"

"Yes."

"I see. And the Ministry? Your interrogators?"

"Severus has taken care of it. It's a long story. He helped me to hide my condition from them and then they just left me alone. I don't really know what he did, but they don't bother me anymore. No more tracking, no more interrogations. Somehow Severus convinced them to allow him to take the responsibility for me. It means that if I break the law, both of us will answer for it. But they know nothing."

"Thank God..."

"I'm convinced, the smaller number of people knows about it, the better."

"Who else knows?"

"Well... I told Pomfrey when you brought me to her. I took her oath, so she won't tell anyone. Longbottom gave an oath, too. Goyle..."

"Wait a minute, Neville knows?" Harry raised an eyebrow in surprise. "How?"

     And Draco told him. They discussed a lot of things, already feeling less awkward with each other. Harry had plenty of questions, Draco answered all of them and asked his own (about the curse mostly, and Harry's answers were careful, because he didn't want to upset him). Only in the dead of the night Draco decided to end the talk. He got up with an effort, as his back was tired of the sitting position. He arched back with the painful expression on his face.

"Well, I think..." he started, but became silent when Harry wrapped his arms around his hips, still standing on his knees. He pressed his cheek to Draco's belly. "Wait..." the blond wanted to protest. He still hadn't made his decision about them, no matter how much he wanted them to be together again. He longed for it. Harry didn't let him protest anyway.

"No... You're mine, Draco. Mine... Both. Love you..." he whispered fervently, kissing the blonde's hip and his belly several times through the clothes, rubbing his cheek against it and refusing to let go. Draco's little gasp and the tension of his body made Harry aware that he was probably pressing himself against him too hard and holding too tight. He loosened his grip a little and looked up at the blonde's face apologetically, but found no anger in the grey eyes. Draco put his hands on his shoulders, but wasn't trying to wriggle out of the embrace, even if he would have preferred to lie down into bed right now. Harry's nearness felt desired, necessary, and Draco closed his eyes, surrendering to it.

"I'm so sorry..." Harry said quietly and lowered his eyes. "I wasn't there with you when you found out about pregnancy. I wasn't there when you were ill and needed help and support, wasn't there when your tummy started to grow. Feels like all of it was stolen from me."

"I feel the same..."

"Can you forgive me?" Harry asked, looking up at the blonde's face again and pressing his chin against the round belly. His hands were stroking the blonde's hips and the small of his back gently. Draco closed his eyes again. He'd missed these hands so much.

"It wasn't your fault," he finally admitted, even if it wasn't easy.

"It doesn't matter whose fault it was, - you still don't trust me."

"Harry, I'm not ready to talk about it right now. It's late. I need some sleep."

"Okay. May I come back tomorrow? Or it's today already..."

"Yes, you may," Draco agreed. 'Merlin, save you, if you won't.'

"Go to bed." Harry kissed his tummy again and let him go reluctantly. "See you tomorrow."

"Today," the blond corrected.

"Today," Harry nodded. "Good night, Draco."

     When he left, Florie peeped into Draco's room to ascertain that he was fine after the visit. She found him looking lost in his thoughts.

"Does young sir need anything?" she asked.

"No, Florie. I'm going to sleep," he answered, returning to the reality.

"Sweet dreams, sir."

"Good night."

     Harry left the house, imbued with hope. Everything he'd heard from Draco occupied his thoughts and he was full of emotions. He knew there was too much information in his head that wouldn't let him sleep this night (or morning, more exactly), but he apparated home, nevertheless. 'I already miss you...'
- 18
- 19
- 20
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

To Find The Missing Lifeline