Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

You Can Run but not Hide	By : Sasunarufan13 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 3292 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter nor make profit of it. J.K. Rowling owns it.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
- 4
Author's note: Soooo, this one was supposed to be the end actually, but naturally my brain screwed me over again *pauses* So you know, I'm just not going to even speculate anymore how many chapters this will be and will just write it and that's that.
Thanks to the following reviewer: ANON
Warnings: some angst; MPreg; description of someone throwing up
I hope you'll like it!
Part 3
"So he wanted to keep Halcon quiet?" Harry asked incredulously, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
As soon as Kingsley had dropped the bomb of Frank's arrest, Harry had Floo'd to the Ministry, leaving Draco in charge of keeping an eye on Teddy and finishing packing up. He could hardly believe that Frank, the friendly guy who always had a smile on his face and with whom he had solved quite a few cases before, had killed Halcon just to make sure that the man couldn't go and run his mouth about Frank's financial problems.
Hell, he hadn't even known Frank was in financial trouble; nobody had known.
"This can't be true." Ron shook his head, looking pale in the grey daylight. He had arrived a couple of seconds after Harry. "There is no way Frank is the killer. That has to be a mistake!"
"I wish it was," Kingsley sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "But I was there when they interrogated him with Veritaserum. Frank admitted to killing Halcon, because he had borrowed money from some unsavoury people and he feared that Halcon would blab about it in a last attempt to reduce his sentence."
"But why wait until Halcon was to be escorted to Azkaban?" Harry frowned, raking a hand through his hair. "That doesn't make any sense. Wouldn't it have been easier to kill him before his trial? I mean, Halcon could have easily said what he knew about Frank during the trial, right?"
"Halcon's lawyer had planned on setting up a new trial and he wanted to discuss that with his client," Kingsley explained, folding his hands together on top of some documents. "Apparently he had got his hands on some interesting facts that would prove that a particular Auror involved in his case wasn't impartial. But he needed Halcon to confirm these facts."
"And Frank thought it was about him and wanted to shut Halcon up before he could talk." Harry closed his eyes, weariness cloaking him. "Fuck."
"Is there any actual proof that Frank accepted money from bad people?" Ron asked sharply.
"We found written agreements in his house," Kingsley replied quietly. "One of our undercover men informed us that the people mentioned in the agreements confirmed that they had lent Frank money. Halcon apparently knew about it from these people."
"What's going to happen now?" Harry asked, a bit subdued. "Does the press know about it?"
"No, fortunately they didn't hear anything about this," Kingsley sighed. "Frank has been arrested and brought to Azkaban. He'll remain there until his trial. I've been assured that the trial will be a closed one, so that the press don't get their hands on this news."
"I can't believe we missed this," Ron muttered, shaking his head. "We went through his entire history to make sure no connections were made with any Auror. How could we have missed this?"
"It wouldn't show up if Halcon had merely heard about the debt," Harry pointed out, rubbing a hand over his forehead. This was a big mess. Sure they had caught Halcon's killer and yes, he had known from the beginning that it had to be one of the Aurors. But for the killer to be Frank? He had a difficult time wrapping his mind around that. It just didn't fit with what he knew about Frank.
Then again, a dark voice piped up in the back of his mind, people have surprised you before.
Yes, they had, but Harry had hoped that he had got better at judging people. Apparently not.
"You two go home for the day," Kingsley stated, grimacing when he looked at the report in front of him. "There's nothing you can do here. Take the rest of the week off; I'll see you next week."
For once Harry didn't think of protesting; he felt too off balance and he simply nodded. He and Ron left Kingsley's office and slowly made their way back to the Atrium.
"You want to come with me? My mum has the kids until this evening," Ron offered, absentmindedly waving goodbye to Melina, Kingsley's secretary, before they stepped into the elevator.
Harry hesitated briefly, but shook his head with a sigh. "No, thanks. I need to finish packing."
"Ah, right, you're moving in with Malfoy," Ron grimaced, looking like he had tasted something sour.
"Yes, I am," Harry retorted, not reacting to Ron's look. He had long since given up on making his best friend get along with his boyfriend. "I also promised Teddy I would take him out for ice cream afterwards."
The cool woman's voice announced, "The Atrium", and they exited the elevator, leaving behind two flustered witches and a bunch of flying memos.
"Well, can't ignore a promise you made to Teddy," Ron chuckled and clapped his shoulder. "All right, mate, I'll speak to you later then, okay? Don't forget to give me the new Floo address!"
"I won't," Harry reassured him and then they parted ways, each disappearing into a fireplace.
"So what do you think of the place?" Draco asked, as they entered the kitchen again. He came to a halt behind Harry and slipped his arms casually around his waist, linking his hands together over his stomach.
"It's amazing," Harry smiled, giving Draco's arm a gentle squeeze. "You didn't have to put everything away on your own, though. I could have done that myself."
He felt Draco shrug. "It wasn't that much. I figured I'd do it, because I didn't think you'd be in the mood for it."
Harry tensed up a bit at the reminder of the meeting in Kingsley's office, but nodded. "True," he muttered and in an attempt to lighten the mood a bit, he asked, "That one room on the second floor at the end of the corridor, why didn't you show me that one?"
"That's my private room," Draco replied casually. "You have one on the first floor, remember?"
"So does that mean I'm not allowed to see your private room?" Harry questioned, not sure whether he felt amused or wary.
"Sure, if I'm inside and call you in." A hand slipped underneath his shirt, brushing circles around his bellybutton. "I won't enter your room either unless you call me inside. Promise me you won't enter my room unless I'm there."
"Seriously?" Harry sighed and then stilled when hot breath hit his neck.
"Promise me, Harry," Draco murmured, his voice almost a purr as his lips brushed across a sensitive spot in Harry's neck.
"Fine, I promise," Harry said and he swore he didn't pout. He could understand Draco's need for privacy, though. It was nice to be able to have a place to retreat to when he needed to be on his own or was too overwhelmed. They were both quite stubborn, so having their own private room to retreat to in case of any fighting would help to calm them down as well.
"Uncle Harry! You promised ice cream!" Teddy yelled from upstairs and Harry chuckled.
"Well, I suppose breaking in the bedroom will have to wait until we have had ice cream," Draco said dryly and took a step back right when Teddy came barrelling into the kitchen.
"I'll make it worth your while," Harry whispered in Draco's ear and winked when he felt the blond man shiver in response.
For now, though, he had a promise to fulfil to his godson.
It started around the end of February.
"I'm meeting Blaise," Draco murmured; the soft pitter-patter of the rain hitting the window gently serving as soothing background noise.
Harry barely opened his eyes, still caught in the embrace of sleep. "Late is it?" he muttered, scarcely able to form a complete sentence.
Warm breath washed over him as Draco huffed in amusement. "Seven o'clock."
"Why so early?" Harry whined, giving up on opening his eyes. His eyelids were too heavy, the bed too warm and comfy for him to even contemplate moving.
"Blaise just came back from a trip and he wants to meet up before he crashes," Draco answered lightly and pressed a kiss on Harry's slack lips. "I'll see you this afternoon, okay?"
Harry hummed and lazily turned around, burrowing himself deeper into the sheets. He heard Draco chuckle amused, footsteps muffled by the carpet and the door that opened and closed again.
Then it was silent again. He still had around an hour before he really had to get up and he was planning on dozing off for a little bit longer. Last night he had had to go to sleep quite late as he was still finishing up a report and he was going to take advantage of the fact that he now had a direct connection to the office to sleep in for a little longer.
He let out a sigh of contentment and pressed his cheek deeper into the fluffy pillow; sleep dragging him back under.
Suddenly his stomach churned, seemed to turn upside down and a wave of nausea swept over him and he stumbled out of the bed, rushing into the bathroom, but only managed to reach the sink before he threw up; the bile vile and sour, irritating the sensitive tissue of his throat. His hands clenched around the edge of the sink and he barely managed to take a breath before a new wave of nausea had him hurling again, splattering the pristine white sink.
"Fuck," he muttered, voice rough, and he winced as a thousand tiny needles seemed to pierce the tissue in his throat. Taking a few shallow breaths, grimacing at the vile taste that coated his mouth, he filled a cup with cold water from the tap and took careful sips; the cold liquid soothing the burning in his throat somewhat.
Once he was certain he wouldn't start throwing up again, he put the cup down and turned the tap again; the water swirled around in the sink, taking the bile with it into the drain with gurgling sounds. The wooziness in his head was slowly clearing up and he grabbed his toothbrush, squinting a bit when he put the toothpaste on it.
As soon as the sour taste in his mouth was replaced by the minty freshness of the toothpaste, he stumbled back into the bedroom and dropped down on the bed, leaning forwards with his head supported by his hands. That would teach him to eat that spicy chicken so late at night. He groaned and snatched his glasses off the nightstand, relieved when the room came completely into focus again. It was a wonder he hadn't walked straight into a wall or tripped when he rushed towards the bathroom.
He sighed and straightened up, staring mournfully at his pillow. Well, he might as well get up now and start to get ready for work. He didn't think he would be able to doze off for a little while anymore.
His stomach chose that moment to protest loudly. Breakfast it was then.
The nausea kept returning. After the first time, the sick feeling overwhelmed him again when he was at work the next day. He had had to go in an hour earlier to finish a report regarding a breaking and entering, when his stomach flip flopped and he barely had time to grab the garbage can before his breakfast resurfaced.
That had definitely not been a good start of the day, but he had waved it off at the incredibly sweet pancakes the house elf had given him – clearly too sweet food didn't agree with his stomach, which was a darn shame, because those pancakes had been heaven.
When he threw up again the next afternoon, he couldn't find any immediate reason for it, but he was starting to get annoyed. Had someone brought a bug inside the Ministry? If so, Ron was one lucky bastard, because he didn't appear to be affected by the bug.
One week later, the nausea hadn't abated at all. The sick feeling lingered throughout the entire day, lasting deep into the evening, and it was becoming more difficult to hide his state from Draco.
So far the blond hadn't found him throwing up what felt like all his intestines, but that would only be a matter of time. Harry knew that he should see a Healer about this, realised that it wasn't normal to be throwing up so regularly, but he didn't have fond memories of the hospital wing of Hogwarts and he certainly wasn't looking forward to seeing the inside of Saint Mungos again. He hadn't had to go back there in nearly two months and he didn't want to break his streak.
Something had to be done, though, and soon, because even the Anti-Nausea potions didn't affect him. If anything, the nausea seemed to worsen whenever he ingested the vile tasting liquid.
Briefly he had entertained the idea to ask Snape for advice. Draco had hung up his portrait in their library – Hermione had immediately fallen in love with the room the moment she had laid eyes on it – but the Potions Master usually spent his time at Hogwarts and Harry feared that the older man would let it slip to Draco what was going on with him.
Draco had a tendency to become rather protective and Harry really wasn't in the mood to deal with his fussing.
It was on a rainy Saturday, in the middle of March, three weeks after he first started throwing up that Harry finally received an answer as to which mysterious illness was plaguing him.
He had taken the day off to visit Andromeda and his godson as it had been a while since he last saw the older woman. Draco had to attend some kind of potions meeting in Glasgow and would be gone until late in the evening.
"How's work going?" Andromeda inquired, placing a steaming cup of tea on the table in front of Harry.
Teddy murmured an absentminded thank you when his grandmother gave him a cup of hot chocolate; he was bent over the jigsaw puzzle of an Hungarian Horntail that Harry had given him when he arrived. The dragon was supposed to step around and fly a few inches above the puzzle once it was finished.
Harry shrugged, taking a sip from his tea. The herbs in it made his throat tingle. "Same old, same old," he murmured. "Ron and I just closed a case of arson yesterday."
"The farm that went up in flames a week ago?" she asked and furrowed her eyebrows as she lowered herself into her own seat.
"That one," he confirmed, putting the cup back down with a soft 'tick'. "Turns out it was a jealous ex-girlfriend." He grimaced. The woman hadn't seemed to realise that she had done anything wrong; according to her, her ex-boyfriend had deserved it for not wanting to take her back.
Andromeda clucked her tongue. "Well, at least you found her. How is my nephew doing, anyway?" Dark eyes – the trademark of the Black family, so alike her crazy sister Bellatrix's, yet so different at the same time – studied him intently.
"He's fine," Harry replied. "He's at a meeting now; something to do with comparing recipes."
"And how is living with him?" she questioned with an amused smile.
"I can't complain," he chuckled. "It's not that different from staying over at his place or mine after all."
"Maybe not, but back then you each had your own house to go back to if you had an argument," she pointed out with a raised eyebrow.
"We each have our own room to retreat to if we need to," he retorted lightly.
"Uncle Draco let me choose my own room," Teddy crowed, looking up from his puzzle with a satisfied grin. "He said I could choose one and the others will be for other children. Are you and Uncle Draco going to have children, Uncle Harry?"
Andromeda's eyebrow climbed even higher – a feat Harry hadn't thought was possible. "Oh? Making room for children? You didn't tell me you were thinking of having children, Harry."
"That's because Draco and I haven't discussed it," Harry sighed and paused before adding while wrinkling his nose, "yet, I suppose. He hasn't said anything about - "
By some miracle he managed to reach the sink before his lunch burned its way through his throat, splattering into the metal basin. The sour, sharp stench hit him and he retched again, a couple of tears leaking out of his eyes as the burning sensation seemed to amplify and he felt like he wouldn't be able to breathe again; his stomach cramping as it was forced to keep expelling its content, even if nothing much remained in it.
Vaguely he was aware of Teddy's alarmed voice asking what was wrong and cool hands touching the back of his neck – which felt like it was on fire – before a hand settled on his back and rested there, offering support.
Finally, finally, his stomach was empty and he lurched back with a loud gasp, coughing and choking a bit before he managed to calm down enough to take a measured inhale of fresh air.
"Here." A glass with cool water entered his vision and he accepted it with a trembling hand, taking careful sips of it, while the older woman rinsed out the sink and used a spell to get rid of the foul air.
His throat stopped feeling like there were needles stuck through it and he placed the glass on the counter, leaning back against it, while trying to ignore the light tremors going through his body as he cast a Fresh Breath charm. The sharp taste of mint assaulting his tongue and gums made him wince, but the too sharp taste of the mint was preferred to the taste of sourness.
A small hand on his wrist made him blink and look down, right into worried dark green eyes.
"Are you okay, Uncle Harry?" Teddy asked with a small voice. His hair was rapidly changing colours, going from chocolate brown, to light blond, to forest green, sky blue, midnight purple, black blue, before becoming a mixture between dark brown and blond.
"Yeah," Harry rasped and rubbed his throat with grimace. "Sorry; guess I ate something wrong."
"Teddy, you know the potion I give to you when you have a stomach ache – can you go get it?" Andromeda asked; her eyes studying Harry with such scrutiny that it made the dark haired man squirm uncomfortably.
Teddy nodded jerkily before dashing out of the kitchen, his footsteps thundering on the stairs.
"Harry, have you had this happen before?" she asked.
He hesitated, wondering whether it would be worth the fussing he would have to endure, but her pointed look made him give in with a groan. Crossing his arms, he bit his lip and staring at the ground, he replied, "Yeah, since three weeks or so. I thought it had to do with the food I ate, but …"
"Have you gone to the Healer yet?"
His silence spoke volumes and she released a put out sigh. "Harry," she spoke disapprovingly.
"I know, okay!" he bit out and pressed his lips together, already regretting his outburst. "Sorry, it's just … You know I don't like Healers."
"Yes, I know, but throwing up for three weeks isn't normal," she stressed and the frown creasing her forehead deepened.
"Trust me, I know," he said darkly. He had hoped he was finally done with puking when he had woken up this morning with only the faint echoes of nausea annoying him, but clearly he had celebrated too early.
When he raised his head again, he saw Andromeda biting thoughtfully on her lip. "What?" he asked and in the back of his mind he wondered what was taking Teddy so long.
"Would you mind if I performed a diagnostic charm to find out what's wrong with you?" she suggested, taking a few steps back from the sink.
He shrugged half-heartedly, letting his arms dangle next to his sides. "I suppose," he said wearily.
She nodded, gave him a reassuring smile which he returned weakly, and then took her wand, pointing it at his chest, murmuring, "Morbum Aperio."
A soft blue glow sank into his skin and he became aware of the soft buzzing noise that currently was filling the kitchen. Warmth erupted from within him, startling him, but it was as quickly gone as it had appeared and when he blinked next, Andromeda was reading a paper that had appeared out of thin air and the blue glow was gone.
"And? What does it say?" Harry asked, growing worried when the older woman kept quiet.
Teddy was coming down the stairs again right when Andromeda answered shocked, "Harry, you're pregnant."
As it turned out, Andromeda hadn't been taking the piss with him. At Andromeda's insistence, Healer Jasen had taken the time to make a house call – making Harry wonder whether the older witch had somehow threatened the Healer because they never made house calls – and had examined him thoroughly.
The result remained the same.
Somehow, one way or the other, Harry had managed to get himself knocked up. Two and a half months pregnant according to Jasen. The nausea? Well, Mister Potter, that was just morning sickness, but I can subscribe some special potions if you want?
Hysterical laughter was bubbling up and Harry clamped his mouth shut, his green eyes fixated on the various pamphlets Jasen had pushed into his hands before going back to the hospital with the instruction to seek out a Healer specialised in pregnancies.
Only three hours ago he had been blissfully unaware that wizards could get pregnant – seriously, why the fuck did nobody think to mention important things like this?! – and now he had to deal with the knowledge with only a few pamphlets to give him information.
His mind was chaos, his body numb. Questions – so many questions – and panic were warring for attention; his magic buzzing like mad around him, his senses hyper aware of the way his clothes brushed against his skin, the sound of the crackling flames as he Floo'd back home, the stark whiteness of the tiles in the small foyer when he stumbled out of the fireplace, dropping sooth all over the newly polished floor.
Pregnant.
He was pregnant. There was a child growing in him.
A child that wasn't supposed to be there in the first place. It didn't make sense. Nothing did. Because according to Jasen, wizards could only become pregnant through two ways: by using a fertility potion or …
Or …
But that couldn't be it, right? That wasn't possible. He wasn't … he couldn't be …
But he hadn't ingested a potion either. So if he hadn't taken a potion, then the only way he could have become pregnant was because …
"Harry?"
Draco.
AN2: Apologies if the Latin is wrong; admittedly my knowledge of Latin has become quite rusty given that it has been years since I studied it.
Please leave a review behind with your thoughts; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.
See you all in the next chapter!
Cuddles
Melissa
- 2
- 3
- 4
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

You Can Run but not Hide