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A Very Late Birthday Present	By : Sasunarufan13 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 4026 -:- 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
- 2
- 3
Author's note: First of all, many apologies for taking so long, but I've been busy with various things and this chapter was giving me some unexpected trouble.
Second of all: as it turns out this story will actually be three parts instead of two *coughs*
Warnings: some time skips; lemon; discovery of what's wrong with Harry
I hope you'll like it!
Part 2
"Heard your last case was a rough one." Hermione looked at him sympathetically, pushing a mug with coffee to him.
When Harry eyed Ron reproachingly the man held up his hands. "Look, mate, there was no way I could have hidden all those bandages on me and the potion vials I got," he defended himself and then frowned and squinted at him. "How come you're not wearing any bandages, anyway? I'm pretty sure you were bleeding like mad out of your side yesterday."
"The cut looked worse than it was," Harry mumbled, taking a bite from his toast. "The Healer only had to use a couple of spells and I was cleared."
"Lucky you," Ron grumbled before attacking his plate upon which he had piled a stack of sausages and scrambled eggs.
"You're sure you're feeling all right, Harry?" Hermione furrowed her eyebrows. "You look a bit peaky."
He waved away her concern. "I'm fine, just didn't sleep very well."
He'd woken up in the night feeling queasy and only after he had thrown up around an hour later had he been able to catch some sleep again. He was lucky he had had the foresight to cast a Silence Bubble around the bathroom, because he was pretty sure Draco wouldn't have let him leave the house today if he had known he had been throwing up.
He had agreed to have breakfast with his friends, however, a tradition they had started several years ago when they had all got busier with their jobs, and he wasn't about to bail on them just because he had thrown up once.
"I'm surprised Malfoy isn't hovering around you now, given how hurt you were yesterday," Hermione remarked, sounding partly bemused and amused at the same time. Harry's grimace had her sighing. "You got into a fight?" she asked knowingly.
"He hasn't let go of the duel instructor idea yet," Harry muttered, taking a sip of his coffee.
"How bad was the fight this time?"
While they would never be best friends, or regular friends even, Ron and Hermione had come to accept Draco as part of Harry's life. They had declared him insane three years ago when he had admitted to having gone on a date with Draco – and honestly he hadn't been able to blame them for that. If someone had told him in Hogwarts that one day he'd agree to go out with his school nemesis on an actual, honest to god date, he'd have had a laughing fit and would have directed them to a Mind Healer.
Time had changed them, however, the both of them growing past their rivalry when they had started working together during one particular case in which they had required a Potion Master's knowledge. They had started spending more time together and before Harry had fully realised it, he had said yes to a date with the blond.
There had been arguments with the Weasley family, full blown out fights between him and Ron even, but in the end when everyone had seen with their own eyes that Harry was serious about this relationship, that Draco wasn't playing some kind of game, they had come to accept the blond wizard.
They would never fully like or trust each other, Harry knew, but they weren't actively fighting anymore and that was good enough.
He and Draco might have changed throughout the years, but one thing which hadn't changed was their ability to get underneath the other's skin and when they fought, they fought viciously. Hermione and Ron were no strangers to Harry occasionally stumbling into their cottage after a fierce argument with Draco. In the beginning they had been ready to fly to Harry's defence until they had realised that ironically, most fights between Draco and Harry now were about the possible dangers of Harry's job.
When the couple had realised that the majority of the fights stemmed from Draco's desire to keep Harry safe, they had settled into the role of being sympathetic best friends who let Harry rage about his boyfriend and his ridiculous demands before gently reminding him that Draco was just worried about him and wouldn't Harry feel the same if the roles were reversed?
Draco would probably never believe that Ron and Hermione were occasionally on his side.
"Not as bad," he answered, spreading a layer of strawberry jam on a new piece of toast. "I wasn't in the mood for a fight and he let it go. Not very willingly, but he let it go."
"He wouldn't be Malfoy if he just gave in," Hermione said amused, even though there was still a trace of concern in her warm brown eyes.
Ron huffed annoyed. "Can we talk about something else than Malfoy's issues?" he whined.
She rolled her eyes. "What, like the fact that you still haven't taken your potions?" she reminded him primly, looking pointedly at the three dark green vials waiting on the kitchen counter.
Ron pulled a face. "I'm feeling fine, 'Mione, I don't need them," he said moodily.
"I'd believe that if you weren't complaining about your leg when you got out of bed," she sniffed.
Leaning back into his chair whilst enjoying his breakfast, Harry let the by now familiar bickering distract him from the slight queasiness still lingering in the pit of his stomach.
"I feel like the evening went pretty well," Draco stated as the flames behind them turned from a poisonous green back into merry gold and red.
Harry snorted and raised an eyebrow, unclasping his outer robes. "You mean, your father stopped looking like he wants to set me on fire with his eyes alone?"
"I was talking more about his civil behaviour," Draco said, shaking his head.
"Guess your mother finally got through him," Harry hummed, making his way deeper inside their house.
They had shared lunch and dinner with Draco's parents today – something which they tried to do at least once a month after Lucius had stopped raising the wards against Harry. That particular trick had lasted an impressive five months before Narcissa had grown tired with her husband's antics. That was what Harry assumed had happened at least, because when Draco had convinced him after those five months to give visiting the manor another try, Harry had managed to get through the wards without being rejected by them.
Narcissa was not someone to be trifled with, that was for certain. Lucius might have kept up the foul looks even after not raising the wards anymore, but after those five months he had never really made a comment about Harry anymore. Whatever Narcissa had told him – or threatened with, either was possible – it had made a lasting impression on the man and he'd stopped trying to convince Draco that there were better options for him out there.
Would Harry ever be on good terms with Lucius like he had grown to be with Narcissa? No, most likely not. Too much had happened for that to happen. Harry would settle for civil behaviour at most and it seemed like he was finally getting that.
Only took the older blond three years to get to this point. Better late than never.
"Well, she always had a way of dealing with him," Draco commented offhandedly, following the dark haired man upstairs.
Draco had insisted on putting Harry into some new robes he had bought some time ago, but Harry already knew that after today he would never wear this particular set again. The deep blue colour was magnificent, no doubt about that, and it fitted perfectly, but the collar itched around his throat and Soothing Charms only helped a little bit. No matter how much it had made grey eyes gleam with satisfaction at seeing Harry dressed in these robes, he wasn't about to keep wearing something that itched like crazy.
"You didn't have to follow me up here, you know," Harry remarked amused when Draco entered their bedroom closely behind him. He started undoing the buttons of the robes, but stilled when hands landed on his hips and warmth pressed against his back. "Draco?"
"Just helping you undress," Draco replied, almost lazily as slender fingers took care of the rest of the buttons.
"Just helping me undress, hm?" Harry quirked an eyebrow as Draco's hands dipped inside the robes and rucked up his shirt; his fingers resting on his bare skin. "And the whole feeling me up kind of thing is accidental then?"
"Just making sure I didn't skip a button," the blond answered airily; his breath warm in Harry's neck.
"How thoughtful," Harry said dryly, watching with a raised eyebrow how a hand slipped an inch lower, fingers resting right above the waistband of his trousers.
"You know me," Draco hummed, lips trailing over the juncture between Harry's neck and right shoulder. "I'm a very thoughtful person."
"Of course you are," the dark haired man smirked and took a step towards the bed, away from the other one. Carelessly he dropped the robes to the floor and turned around, leaving him in just his trousers.
Grey eyes flickered towards the sad heap of fabric lying on the carpet. "That's an expensive set of robes," Draco pointed out, seemingly torn between being amused and outraged at Harry's flippant treatment of the clothes.
"What do you prefer: me with those robes on or me without them on the bed and you in me?" Harry asked boldly and undid the button of his trousers with a flick. He pulled down the zipper a few teeth before halting and looking at the blond expectantly.
"Well, when you put it like that," Draco smirked, his eyes darkening as his pupils expanded.
The next moment his own robes were dumped onto the floor.
"F-fuck," Harry hissed and his fingers scrambled across a sweat slicked back, searching for a way to anchor himself, as a particular rough thrust against his sweet spot had him shaking; pleasure pulsating throughout his entire body, centring itself in the pit of his belly.
He wasn't going to last much longer anymore, not with the way Draco was determined to hit that particular spot deep within him every time he slammed inside; not with the way his leaking cock kept being trapped between their stomachs, rubbing across slick skin.
Not with how Draco kept kissing him; kisses so passionate and rough, they bordered on absolutely depraved, filthy even.
Definitely not with the words being crooned into his ear, slipping from between kiss bruised lips, breathless and rough. "Just look at you, swallowing me up like that," Draco whispered, nearly hissing as he grabbed Harry's legs roughly and pushed them over his shoulders, bending the dark haired man in two and making him shout as there was no way anymore to pull away from the blinding pleasure as the blond kept hitting his spot dead on every time now.
Not that he ever wanted to pull away from that.
"God, you feel so tight," Draco practically snarled; his eyes glowing almost ominously silver when he gazed down at his lover. His blond hair was no longer slicked back, but fell in loose strands forwards, brushing Harry's cheeks whenever Draco dipped his head down for a kiss.
"So fucking amazing," he swore, stealing yet another kiss; moaning into it when Harry's inner muscles squeezed around his cock.
"D-don't stop," Harry hissed between gritted teeth as pleasure rapidly started mounting, spreading from his lower belly to the rest of his body, making every inch of him tingle and spots dancing in front of his eyes.
His muscles were screaming with how tightly wrapped his arms were around Draco's neck and his legs started aching slightly in the position they were in, but none of that mattered right now as he was chasing after his climax, as his tongue met Draco's and teeth nipped at swollen lips.
"I'm not planning to," Draco promised him darkly and bore down with his next thrust, sheathing himself even deeper into Harry, something he hadn't thought was possible, and hitting his spot dead on and oh fuck –
He threw his head back and screamed when pleasure exploded in him, racing through his veins and setting him alight. His whole body quaked underneath the onslaught and his mouth was open as he gasped for air; his nails digging into Draco's shoulders as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over him.
Still Draco kept moving, kept pressing there, and the pleasure shifted, turned into something else, something so intense he couldn't decide whether it hurt or not, but it had him sobbing, unintelligible words pouring out his mouth, and then Draco stilled and shuddered and buried his face in Harry's neck as he spilt deep inside him.
When green eyes shot open, they saw his hands glowing.
His breath abruptly left him and he stiffened, staring horrified at the way his hands seemed to pulsate with a gentle golden light as if the sun itself was wrapping several of its beams around them.
"Harry?" Draco's voice came out slurred and when he raised his head and looked at the dark haired man, his eyes were dazed; his pupils still fairly blown.
Clenching his hands into fists and keeping them hidden behind Draco's back, Harry forced himself to smile and he kissed the blond; their lips meeting in a gentle touch now, instead of the frenzy of just a minute before.
"I love you," he murmured.
Something in his chest clenched together when Draco gave him a soft smile and caressed his cheek tenderly. "I love you too."
The glowing hands part had definitely been an entirely new development and if Harry had any shred of common sense, he would have gone straight to a Healer to finally find out just what the hell was wrong with him.
Apparently he didn't have a shred of common sense, though, because even though he realised it was beyond high time to consult a Healer, he kept finding excuses not to go. That case of Roberts still needed to be completed and delivered to the archive; he had suspects to interrogate; a case about an old wizard dying from an overdose of Calming Draught to solve. He had to visit Molly and reassure her over and over again in the span of a couple of hours that yes, he was taking good care of himself; no, he was not running himself haggard; yes, Draco was still treating him well …
He was being an idiot, he knew that, but he just couldn't bring himself to actually enter St. Mungos and seek out a Healer. He should, he really should, because glowing hands after sex weren't normal; his magic suddenly disappearing like someone had blown a candle out or doing something entirely else than he intended to do definitely wasn't normal and even the occasional bout of nausea could not be called a normal thing to happen either.
It was just … He was afraid to discover just what exactly was wrong with him. Despite not having known for the first ten years of his life that he was a wizard, his magic had become an integral part of his life; something he had come to rely on, knowing it would never disappoint him.
Now it was acting up in weird ways and that scared the hell out of him. He didn't want to be abnormal again, didn't want to go back to being that freak the Dursleys had accused him of being so many times in the past.
If he went to the Healer now, that would really drive the truth home then. He would have to acknowledge that something was seriously wrong with him, that something was making his magic act up and turning him into a freak and –
He wasn't ready for that.
He had held the foolish hope that his magic would start acting normal again, that maybe it was just a spat because he had been taking on so many cases and his freaky magic was his body's way of telling him to slow the fuck down.
Of course nothing could ever be that easy for him.
Some of his spells kept turning into others – an Incendio turning into an Aguamenti; a shield of thick ice meant to block an incoming curse turning into a mini snow tornado; Accio destroying the item in question instead of giving it to him …
So far he had somehow managed to conceal his screw ups, but his luck would run out eventually. Either Ron would notice him muddling up a spell or one of the suspects would get a serious hit in.
His wounds kept healing quickly, no matter how bad they were. Bruises disappeared in just half an hour, scorch marks and burns took twenty minutes and deep cuts and gashes healed in just over an hour.
Then there was the subtle weight gain.
As the weeks passed and June changed into July, he became hard pressed to ignore the fact that he was gradually putting on weight. It wasn't anything serious yet; he didn't look like Peter Thompson, a nearly retired Auror who did mostly desk work these days but looked like he was spending whole days in Honeydukes instead.
No, the weight gain was subtle, but it was there and it was getting harder to ignore. His stomach was no longer flat, but had developed a light swelling for some reason, as if he had eaten too much of Molly's chocolate raspberry cake. The odd swelling was only visible when the light hit him in just the right way, but it was still there and he could feel it when he ran his hand over his stomach. His legs and arse were filling out his trousers more as well.
This all, his magic, the weird healing, the weight gain – it was all getting beyond disturbing and he knew he had to visit a Healer soon.
How would he explain this, though? Would they even find the cause of whatever was screwing up his magic?
Was it too much to ask to just be normal for once?
The air in Draco's former bedroom felt pleasantly cool against his sun heated skin when he stepped inside and closed the door behind him.
His birthday turned out to be the hottest day of the summer so far and Harry was absurdly grateful for the fact that Draco had convinced him to celebrate his birthday at Malfoy Manor this year. Whether it was handiwork of the house elves or something about the way the manor was built that didn't allow the heat of outside to seep in, the rooms remained pleasantly cool and offered a great refuge from the blazing heat outside.
At the moment Draco's childhood bedroom formed a good escape for Harry. He really loved his family and friends and greatly appreciated the fact that they had made time to celebrate his birthday today with him, but the crowd and the loud chattering had become rather overwhelming and he just needed to retreat for a while and surround himself with some silence.
He paused in front of the window and sat down on the light blue ottoman underneath the windowsill. Resting his head on the wall next to the window, he listened to the voices drifting up in the air, smiling when he heard his godson laughing brightly. He'd join them again soon, but for now it felt good to sit here and revel in the peace lingering in the room.
He felt at ease here and he relaxed further, swinging his legs up on the ottoman. The edge of the windowsill was cold against his bare arm, but he paid no attention to it. He could do with a bit of cooling off anyway. Even with Cooling Charms, sweat had been dripping down his face and back outside.
He didn't know how long he'd been sitting there in Draco's old room, when a soft voice startled him into nearly falling off the ottoman. Only his awkward flailing and his feet hitting the floor with a 'thud' as he twisted around on the furniture prevented him from faceplanting.
"I thought I'd find you here," Narcissa said calmly, striding into the room and serenely ignoring how Harry's face had almost met the floor. "The party becoming a bit too much for you? Or perhaps the heat?"
He stood up, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, and grimaced. "A bit of both," he admitted begrudgingly. "I wasn't planning on hiding away here for the rest of the party, but I just needed to get away for a bit."
She nodded in understanding. "Yes, I understand that need perfectly. Merlin knows how many times I slipped away for a moment during balls or other festivities," she smiled, folding her hands in front of her. "I would advise you to warn Draco the next time you feel the need to get away for a bit, though. He was getting worried when he couldn't find you after a while."
He flushed with embarrassment. "Ah sorry, I should have thought about that, but I didn't realise I'd been sitting here for so long."
"That can happen to everyone," she reassured him and her bright blue eyes studied him before she added casually, "You're feeling up to joining the party again? I've come to understand that young Teddy is very eager to start on the cake."
"Yeah, I'll go back - " A hiccup interrupted his answer and while that would have been annoying on its own, he could only feel horror as a bubble escaped his mouth all of a sudden, floated in front of him for a few seconds before popping.
Meeting astonished blue eyes, he stared at her wide eyed and opened his mouth to – yeah, to what? To apologise, to try to laugh it off, to explain? – say at least something, but he hiccupped a second bubble up and then a third and a fourth, which danced merrily in front of his eyes before popping one by one.
Slapping a hand for his mouth, he hastily pointed his wand at his face, prayed to Merlin that his magic wouldn't screw up right now, and muttered a spell that got rid of the hiccup.
Of course by now the damage was done and he lowered his hand slowly; heavy silence descending between them as they stared at each other.
Why had his luck decided to run out now? If it had been Ron with him, he could have convinced him it was just some sort of pranking spell he had been trying out on himself. Hermione might have been harder to convince, but he thought that in the end she would have believed him too and would have dismissed this accident with a roll of her eyes and a scolding about never trying out spells on himself.
All along he had feared that Draco might catch him during one of these incidents, because the blond man would be a lot harder to fool – Narcissa, though, she was impossible to fool.
He was utterly screwed.
"You've seen a Healer yet, Harry?" Narcissa asked calmly, but her eyes were slightly narrowed and her face smoothed out.
"Eh, no, not – not yet. I was planning to," he stammered, but her raised eyebrow informed him she didn't believe him.
Fuck.
"Have you had an … incident like this before?" she inquired; nothing in her voice or face giving away what she was really thinking about.
Numbly he nodded.
"How long?"
"Ar-around three months I guess?" He winced at the disapproval flashing up in her eyes for a few seconds. Saying it aloud only drove home the fact how stupid he'd been.
Three months of his body and magic fucking up and he still hadn't visited a specialist. He must be a special kind of stupid.
To her credit, she didn't declare him an idiot. Instead she pointed at the ottoman and said in a crisp voice, "Sit down and wait here. I'll be right back."
Hastily he did as he was told, figuring that would be better than trying to protest. He couldn't help but grow nervous as she marched out of the room; the 'click' as the door fell gently shut behind her seemed exceptionally loud now, drowning out the voices outside.
Fiddling with one of the buttons of his dark green robes, his eyes switched from one side of the room to the other one, but he was too worked up to really concentrate on one thing. He crossed his legs and his foot started moving up and down rapidly, jittery with nerves. Breathing out slowly through his mouth, he tried to ignore the nauseous feeling creeping up on him.
The last thing he needed was to throw up here. That would just be the icing on the cake after the mess he had already caused. Shit, why had he been so stupid? All he should have done was go see a Healer instead of finding excuses not to go.
When the door opened again, he froze when Draco entered the room first, closely followed by Narcissa. Draco looked confused, but a smile appeared on his face when he spotted Harry.
"There you are, I've been wondering where you were holing up," he said lightly, approaching him.
"Draco, sit down, please."
He frowned and turned his head to look at her. "Mother?" Whatever he saw in her face had him huff in annoyance, but he sank down on the ottoman next to Harry. Throwing his lover a half-hearted scowl, he muttered, "What the hell did you do now, Potter?"
Any other time and Harry would have a snarky response ready, but now he just clamped his mouth shut, feeling even sicker than before Draco had entered the room.
Narcissa came to a stop in front of them. She conjured a simple chair to sit in and when she did, she folded her hands neatly on her lap. Despite her rather demure appearance, her eyes were sharp and cool when she regarded both men.
"I'm going to ask Harry a couple of questions and aside from his answers, I don't want to hear anything else until I'm finished, is that understood?"
Next to Harry, Draco nodded his agreement bewildered, but Harry barely managed a nod; his chest starting to feel a bit tighter as if something was slowly squeezing his lungs together.
Turning to Harry, Narcissa asked flatly, "Has your magic been acting up? Spells that refuse to work or maybe even get switched with others for example? Or your magic influencing your body in odd ways?"
"Mother, what are you - "
"Be quiet, dear." She kept her gaze fixed on Harry. "Harry?"
Shame brewing in the pit of his belly, he nodded haltingly. "Y-yes, it usually happens a couple of times every week." He could feel Draco stiffen and he was too ashamed to look at him, knowing when he did he would meet angry, grey eyes.
She nodded as if she had expected that answer. "When you're wounded, do you experience accelerated healing?"
Did she know what was wrong with him? "Yeah, my injuries – they're healing on their own."
"What the fuck, Harry?"
"Draco, last warning," she said sharply and received a glare in response. "Have you gained weight in the last couple of weeks?"
Growing red, he was almost too embarrassed to reply, but in the end he nodded reluctantly. "Mostly around my stomach but … my legs as well."
"Hm, a question for the both of you," she said abruptly, flicking her eyes at her son. "Have you discussed your future together? I'm talking about possible marriage or how many children you want to raise."
Furrowing his eyebrows, Draco leant forwards slightly. "What kind of question is that? Of course we talked about that," he answered irritated. "In fact we were thinking about getting married sometime next year."
"And children?"
He rolled his eyes. "Don't worry, mother, we're not depriving you of grandchildren. We're thinking of having at least one, maybe two. Now care to tell what that has to do with your questions for Harry?"
"Why, Draco, I assumed you would have managed to make the link on your own," she retorted calmly; an undercurrent of amusement laced through her voice. "It surprises me you haven't yet, given my questions and Harry's answers."
"What are you talking about?" Harry questioned uncertainly; his eyes switching back and forth between the two blonds. He knew he was missing something, but what? What did their future together have to do with whatever had been plaguing Harry for a couple of months now?
Suddenly Draco inhaled sharply and his eyes were wide, a bit wild even when he demanded, "Wait, you're not suggesting he's – "
She quirked an eyebrow.
"But we haven't used any spells or potions!"
"What spells or potions?" Harry asked confused, growing annoyed when neither one answered him.
"It is rare, but it has been known to happen spontaneously. Usually when the timing is right and both partners are on the same wavelength," she said, smiling faintly. "I believe researchers are inclined to categorise these particular cases underneath the nomenclature of wish magic."
"Will someone please tell me what the hell you're talking about?" Harry exploded when all Draco did was gape at his mother instead of explaining just what the fuck was going on.
Wish magic? What did that have to do with whatever was screwing up his magic? He sure as hell hadn't wished for his magic to behave wonky!
He reared back in surprise when Draco quickly turned towards him and snatched his hands, gripping them tightly. He sounded rather strangled when he said, "Harry, you're pregnant."
Harry stared at him, ringing filling his ears.
Then everything turned dark.
AN2: I guess it wasn't that hard to guess what was wrong with Harry LOL
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 back in the (definitive) last part!
Cuddles
Melissa
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A Very Late Birthday Present