Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Peverell's Children	By : Zakaira Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 27078 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and make no money off of writing this

Chapter List
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Author’s Note: Let’s see, what sort of irrelevant drivel to put here… well normally authors thank their beta here. My beta for this story is…myself! Thank you Zakaira for your quick turn around on this chapter! Whohoo! I choose to beta this myself because of the ridiculous turnaround time that is associated with typical betas. I have a story that I finished writing last year and since my beta takes 2 to 8 weeks to return each chapter, it’s still not finished posting.

            Snape came back at lunch time, as he promised and checked on them, but Draco was still sleeping and nothing had changed. “Go on to lunch Mr. Potter and I’ll watch him,” Snape offered.

            “No, I don’t want to leave him. What if he wakes up while I’m gone? You go ahead,” Harry replied.

            “Then we’ll both stay,” Snape said, before calling Dobby and requesting lunch.

            Dobby delivered a tray of roast beef sandwiches. Professor Snape took one to his desk and ate, but Harry was too worried to eat, so he just stayed by Draco’s side and held Draco’s hand.

            When the lunch hour was nearly up, Snape perform one last check on Draco, before saying, “I have class again, but I’ll be back at three, if you’re still amenable to watching Mr. Malfoy.”

            “Yes,” Harry replied.

            And so Snape left. Draco woke up a few hours later and was hungry, so Harry brought over the tray of sandwiches and pumpkin juice from earlier.

            They ate in relative silence and then Draco started crying, so Harry wrapped an arm around him as best he could without moving him. “Don’t worry, the baby is okay and I’m gonna kill Ron,” Harry soothed.

            “Painfully. You better do it painfully or I won’t have my proper revenge,” Draco whispered, trying not to cry, but he let out a sob anyway.

            “Oh, believe me, I will make it painful. I’ve suddenly got a whole new appreciation for torture,” Harry replied.

            “He just attacked me. I was coming back to get my book. I saw him waiting in the corridor outside the classroom and called him some name, but I didn’t do anything to him!” Draco cried.

            “I know. He’s an uncivilized Neanderthal and I won’t let him near you or the baby again.”

            Draco continued to cry and Harry tried to think of something else he could say. Then he remembered the book, “I found your book by the way. It’s in my backpack, but I’ll move it to your bag now.” Harry got up to move the book and then returned to Draco’s side, taking his hand once more.

            “I want mother.”

            “I’ll ask Professor Snape when he gets back, but I can’t leave you to go get her.”

            “Mother would sing to me.”

            “I don’t know any songs; you’ll have to teach me.”

            “Mother would read to me. I’ve got a novel in my school bag.”

            “Yeah, I could read to you,” Harry replied, getting up to retrieve Draco’s school bag.

            Harry was digging through Draco’s bag looking for a novel when he found a likely candidate, which Draco confirmed, by saying, “That one.”

            And so Harry found the place Draco had last left off and began to read. He read for half an hour before Snape came back.

            “How are you feeling Mr. Malfoy?” Snape asked.

            “Like I’ve just been squeezed out of a troll’s hairy arse. When can I get down?” Draco asked.

            “A few days bed rest would be best, but I could move you to my personal quarters, if you’d be more comfortable. You could move around more, but you still should not get out of bed for another day at least. Even then, you’re better off not walking until you heal completely and that could be a week or more,” Snape answered.

            “I want mother,” Draco replied.

            “I could take you to headquarters, but then it would be harder for me to monitor you. I could bring her here, but she’d have to stay hidden in my quarters,” Snape replied.

            “She doesn’t know I’m pregnant yet,” Draco replied.

            “We can tell her,” Harry said.

            “Yes, it would seem Mr. Potter is correct in that we will have to tell your mother. Perhaps I’ll fetch your mother and then move you to my quarters,” Snape suggested.

            “Yeah,” Draco replied.

            “Should I tell her before I bring her here or would you like to tell her?” Snape asked.

            “You tell her,” Draco answered.

            “Very well,” Snape said before flooing to Grimmauld Place.

            Harry resumed his reading to Draco. Snape was gone for a long time, but then he was counting every minute in anticipation and dread, so the time passed more slowly. What would Narcissa say when she found out about the baby? That it was his baby? About the near-miscarriage? About his so-called friend causing the near-miscarriage? At this point, there was no way it could be good. Harry was glad that Draco had given Snape permission to tell Draco’s mum everything; it would save Draco having to witness the brunt of the negative reaction.

            Snape returned materializing in the fireplace, followed by Draco’s mum. Narcissa Malfoy had a serious face of grim determination when she came into the room. But when she walked over to Draco, she had a small smile for him. “It’s going to be okay my Dragon, mother’s here now,” she said gently and kindly.

            “Mr. Potter you may go now. Please have Mr. Weasley report to my office in one hour,” Snape said dismissing him.

            “Please sir? Can’t I stay with Draco?” Harry pleaded.

            “No, I am taking the Malfoys to my personal quarters and I cannot permit you inside. I will summon you if anything changes and I will see you back here for detention tonight,” Snape replied.

            “What about his magical signature? I still want to donate my magic to him,” Harry protested.

            Snape cast a diagnostic spell before replying, “You’ve been with him for hours; his magical signature is back to normal.”

            Harry saw no way out of it. He put Draco’s book in Draco’s school bag and handed the bag to Narcissa, before picking up his own bag. He let Snape borrow his cloak again to hide Draco. Narcissa pulled up a hood over her head, so that she would be less noticeable, and then the four of them left Snape’s office. Harry followed the three Slytherins to Snape’s quarters, which were only just down the corridor. Snape returned his cloak, but again refused to grant him entrance, so he was left alone.

            Normally at this time he would be going to visit Draco in the room of requirement, but now that Draco was incapacitated, he had nowhere to go but back to Gryffindor tower; Gryffindor tower where his so-called best friend was. Suddenly Harry was running as fast as he could. He ran past students and didn’t stop to explain himself to Filch; he just ran, his feet pounding on the hard stone of the castle floors. He spat the password to the Fat Lady and barreled through the still opening portrait hole.

            “Harry! Where have you been?” Hermione called in the common room, but after an initial scan of the room failed to return Ron, Harry continued on, running up the stairs to the boy’s dormitory.

            Hermione was following behind him, but she couldn’t keep up with his sprinting, so he reached the door to their room well before her. He pushed it open, saw Ron on his bed trimming his broom, and lunged. He punched Ron in the head and in the stomach and then several more of each, before Hermione came in and tried to pull him off of Ron. Harry fought on and got in a few more jabs, but Ron was fighting back and Hermione was in the middle and he didn’t want her to get hurt.

            “Harry, what has gotten into you?” Hermione asked in exasperation.

            “Ronald!” Harry spat, retreating a few feet and trying to get his composure. He would have to say something and he needed his composure to figure out what to say.

            “What did I do? This can’t be about my little fight with Malfoy this morning, can it? I thought you’d be happy I got him back for stealing all those apples from you! I got him good,” Ron replied.

            “Ronald, what did you do to Malfoy?” Hermione asked. “I thought we agreed not to touch him!”

            “So you didn’t tell her, huh? You’re pathetic,” Harry spat.

            “I only punched him a few times! It was nothing he didn’t deserve a million times over,” Ron replied.

            “He almost had a miscarriage you prat! He deserved that a million times over!?!” Harry asked flying at Ron again, hoping to knock him out.

            “Harry! Stop it, we’ve got to talk about this, before someone notices and comes in here,” Hermione hissed.

            That got Harry’s attention and he pulled himself off of Ron and went back to his own side of the room.

            “What do you mean he almost had a miscarriage? He’s not even pregnant!” Ron replied indignantly.

            Hermione looked to Harry and asked, “Is he?” Harry nodded. “But I thought you said it was his girlfriend who’s pregnant?”

            “I lied. Malfoy’s gay and a Peverell; he’s the one who’s pregnant, but you can’t tell anyone,” Harry confirmed, hating himself for going against Draco’s wishes and telling, but it was already too late, because he’d blurted the truth out without thinking. The least he could do now was lie some more and come up with a good cover.

            “And his boyfriend?” Hermione asked.

            “A Hufflepuff halfblood. His boyfriend couldn’t even sit with him, without blowing his cover. I stayed with him instead, to keep him company,” Harry explained with a lie.

            “Is he alright?” Hermione asked.

            “Snape was able to stop it, twice, but he’s on bed rest for now. He was bleeding, but Snape stopped that too. His magical energy was dangerously low, but I donated some of mine,” Harry answered.

            “Well Ronald?” Hermione asked.

            “I had no idea he was pregnant! I was just trying to get him back for stealing your apples,” Ron protested.

            “I was giving him the apples to eat because he’s pregnant! We had to lie, so that no one would know we’re friends now,” Harry revealed.

            “Oh,” Ron replied lamely.

            “Yes, oh. You almost killed an innocent baby and all you can say is, ‘oh.’ You mum’s gonna love that when she hears it,” Harry replied.

            “Well if I had, at least there would be one less Malfoy in the world,” Ron replied, not understanding why Harry was so upset over Malfoy.

            Harry stepped forward and got in a good swing at Ron’s head. Having reached his limit of blows to the head for the day, Ron passed out, which Harry found rather satisfying.

            “Harry! You’ve got to stop doing that! Now we’ve got to take him to the hospital wing,” Hermione replied.

            “No we don’t, just leave him,” Harry replied going to his trunk and gathering some of his things.

            “What are you doing?” Hermione asked.

            “Packing.”

            “Why? You’re not leaving the school are you?”

            “I’m not staying in here with him; I’ll be sleeping in the room of requirement tonight,” Harry said getting a few last things. He had a change of clothes and all of his school things.

            “Are you sure we should leave Ron like this? What if he dies?” Hermione asked.

            “At this point I couldn’t care less, but he won’t die. Look at him, he’s still breathing,” Harry replied, before walking out the door. He’d probably care later, when he was comforting Mrs. Weasley at Ron’s funeral, but right now he couldn’t care about Ron when he was still so worried over Draco and the baby.

            “Fine, wait for me, I’m coming with you,” Hermione said, following him.

Author’s Note: Ron down, Hermione’s next, and Narcissa still to go.

I got my biopsy results back and the tumor was benign! Whohoo! Yay! It was a fibroma, which is a tumor made up of scar tissue, meaning it came from an injury. The only injury I had back in January, before I noticed the tumor, was when a pile of boxes fell on me at my brother’s ranch during a teeny tiny earthquake when I was helping him move in.
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Peverell's Children