Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

In Tatters and Pieces	By : Sasunarufan13 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 6538 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter nor make profit of it. J.K. Rowling owns it.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
Author's note: You ever had those chapters that you're not sure about and you just keep editing and rewriting scenes? Yeah, that's what I was going through with this particular chapter *sighs* This was quite the difficult chapter to write and honestly, I'm still not happy with it at all, but I figured I would drive myself insane if I kept working on it, so yeah. This is the result after many edits and rewrites; I hope it isn't as bad as I think it is *winces*
Thanks to the following reviewers: sparklewitch182; djaddict; Book_addict_89
Warnings: drama; angst; emotional turmoil; short, rather implicit birth scene
For the last time, I hope you'll like this chapter - at least more than I do *grimaces*
Chapter 4
"So the Ministry lost interest?" Father questioned, narrowing his eyes slightly. He was sitting regally on his chair as if he was holding a conversation in the grand living room of Malfoy Manor instead of his small cell.
"It appears so," Draco murmured, pausing when the sound of footsteps reached his ears. They passed the cell however and the blond man relaxed slightly. "They removed the last Auror on watch off our property a month ago."
"The Minister seems preoccupied with hunting down the last Death Eaters," Mother added with a thin smile; her hands neatly folded on her midnight blue robes.
Father eyed them contemplatively before a faint smirk painted his lips. "I imagine the absence of the Aurors might have something to do with Draco visiting Potter regularly as well."
"You know about that?" Draco asked sharply; his heart skipping a beat. During their last conversation they hadn't talked about Harry Potter once; they had had more important topics to discuss and it hadn't come up in Draco's mind to inform his father about his meetings with the pregnant man.
His stomach turned upside down at the mention of the dark haired wizard and Draco took a deep, slow breath; forcing the memories of their last meeting down again.
"Son, being in solitary confinement does not mean I am completely cut off from news of the outside world," Father retorted dryly and the younger blond flushed, glancing away. "I can assure you that any news concerning Potter is eagerly shared in this place."
Draco remained quiet, not certain how to react to that. Fortunately for him, Lucius was more interested in discussing their family's business than what the Boy-Who-Lived-Twice was doing nowadays.
They talked for another ten minutes and then there was a rapid knock on the door, signalling their visit was over for now. Draco and his mother said goodbye to Lucius and were escorted by a grim looking Auror to the lowest level of Azkaban where they received their wands again.
Sharp, biting cold wind greeted them mercilessly when they set foot outside; the large, heavy doors falling shut behind them with an ominous sound. Above them the sky was darkening rapidly, promising a heavy downpour. The Dementors no longer were present at the island, but that did not take away the dreariness nor the misery clinging to the building and the surrounding land. Only the howling of the wind and the crashing of the waves could be heard as there weren't even any seagulls flying above the prison. Even birds didn't like the atmosphere here.
The Auror who had brought them to the island – a gruff, old man with a long scar running from his left eye to the right corner of his mouth – waited until they had sat down on the small boat and then steered the boat away from the shore, remaining as silent as he had been on the way here. He hadn't even introduced himself, simply gestured for the two to step into the boat, but Draco couldn't bring himself to care about that particular bit of rudeness. As long as he brought him and his mother to the island and back safely, he could be as quiet as he wanted to be.
The blond man was aware of the occasional glance resting on him, but he didn't react to it and simply stared out into the distance. His mother had been looking at him peculiarly for several times this past week already, but so far he had managed to evade having to talk to her. He realised his avoidance couldn't last forever, but he wasn't in the mood to confess what was bothering him.
What would talking about it change, really? It would still leave him furious and betrayed and confused; he still wouldn't know what to do.
Not talking, not thinking about it – he couldn't ignore the problem forever, no, but for now he could.
"Any plans for the rest of the day?" Mother asked mildly when they left the foyer; their outer robes already handed over to two house elves to clean.
"I'm planning on brewing some potions," Draco answered lightly, already turning towards the cellar where one of the rooms had been turned into a potion's laboratory. The room had originally belonged to his great-grandfather, who had built the potion's lab and Draco had added more cauldrons and shelves and potion ingredients to it throughout the years, turning it into his own lab.
"I figured I could start creating new potions and brewing potions on commission now that the Ministry is no longer suspicious of us," he continued; a light sneer audible in his voice. He had always loved brewing potions, the love for the art instilled in him by his godfather, but had decided it best to wait with creating potions until they no longer had an Auror guard breathing down their necks.
Creating new potions wasn't illegal, but it was all too easy to imagine one of those idiotic Aurors claiming he wanted to brew illegal ones just to get him into trouble.
"A good plan," Mother said approvingly and he smiled.
No matter how old he would become, there would always be a part of him who would be happy with his parents' approval.
His smile was wiped off at her next casual question. "You're not planning on visiting Harry this week?"
"No, I don't have any plans, why?" he asked, curter than he would have liked to be, but he couldn't help himself. Any mention of the younger wizard set him on edge now.
"No particular reason," she hummed and regarded him thoughtfully. "I merely wondered, because it has been nearly two weeks since you went to visit him."
"I wasn't aware I'm obligated to visit him weekly," he retorted sharply, but his mouth felt oddly dry and he cursed himself silently. Of course his mother would notice his sudden refusal to visit the other wizard.
"You're not," she spoke calmly, but her eyes narrowed slightly as she moved closer. "I do wonder whether something has happened between the two of you."
"Why? I have a life outside visiting him, you know," he scoffed.
"I sent him a letter last week," she said; her lips thinning as she pressed them together. "Inviting him to another dinner here at the manor, but he refused."
"Maybe he wasn't in the mood. He doesn't have to join us for dinner if he doesn't want to," he retorted annoyed.
"He's never refused a dinner or lunch before," she stated, linking her fingers together. "Yet he did right after you came back upset. Forgive me, my son, but I cannot help but think that something happened between you two."
"Nothing happened," he repeated stubbornly.
Silence reigned loudly between them for a moment before mother inclined her head.
"You know where to find me if you want to talk about it," she murmured and ascended the staircase, brushing her hand against his left cheek when she passed by him.
Gritting his teeth, a whirlwind of emotions wreaking havoc inside him, he made his way to the cellars in the vague hope that brewing would take his mind off his problems for at least a little while.
The second explosion caused the walls to tremble and he flung himself back just in time to avoid being splattered by the greenish, sickly purple potion. That was supposed to be a Muscle Relaxer Draught, but looked more fit to poison someone at the moment.
With a sigh Draco waved his wand at the cauldron, vanishing the mess with a quick flick and using a Draft Wind Charm to dispel the lingering fumes. That done, he slumped back into his chair, staring up at the ceiling despondently.
Clearly brewing potions wasn't the way to distract himself. In the state he was in currently he was more liable to have a potion explode in his face.
He had thought that brewing would distract him, give him a moment's reprieve from the storm growing in his mind, but of course it didn't work now. Instead of clearing his mind, he only grew more frustrated and his nails bit into the palms of his hands as he curled his fingers into fists.
He just didn't know what to do.
What was he supposed to do, now that he knew he had been in a relationship with Harry before the man had stolen his memories in a misguided attempt to protect him? How was he supposed to act, knowing that the younger man was carrying his child?
Fuck, he would be a father soon.
A strangled noise left his throat and he pressed his fist against his mouth, staring blankly at the wall in front of him.
This wasn't … He hadn't thought of children before. Why would he when he had just become eighteen? Before the war he had imagined he would have some fun after he was done with school, flirt around a bit before he would start looking for a decent spouse his parents would approve of. After the war he just wanted to live, adjust himself to the fact that he was no longer risking his life.
Not once, not before or after the war, had he imagined he would have a child soon. There hadn't been any point; he wasn't fucking anyone, so why would he have thought about the possibility of a child being conceived?
Except he had been sleeping with someone, but that person had taken his memories away from him, had stolen the chance of discovering he would become a father.
He couldn't decide what hurt the most: the fact that Harry had Obliviated him or the fact that thanks to his memory loss, he hadn't been there when Harry had discovered he was pregnant. If he hadn't broken through the Memory Charm, would Harry have ever confessed that the child was his? Would he ever have given Draco a chance to date him or wouldn't he have risked it?
Had Harry ever planned to be honest to him or had he just wanted to hide behind the flimsy excuse of keeping Draco safe?
Perhaps the most important question – and the most pressing one currently – was: could Draco forgive him for Obliviating him? Could he look at Harry, be with him, without getting furious for the violation he had endured underneath the other man's hands?
Draco leant forwards, his head resting in his hands as he gazed at the potion splattered floor; willing the mess to give him some sort of answer.
He had never felt this confused before. On the one hand, the love he felt for Harry hadn't diminished, even with the knowledge of the Memory Charm. It made him feel pathetic, but it was the truth. On the other hand, he didn't know if he would ever be able to forgive Harry for locking his memories away, for violating his mind.
Had no way of knowing Harry would never do that again.
His breath hitched and he swallowed painfully; his cheeks oddly warm, pricking, as nausea swirled his stomach around. That was the question of the day, right? Would the Memory Charm be a one-time kind of deal, something Harry had done under duress, thinking he had had no other choice in a vain attempt to keep his lover safe?
But what if a new danger popped up? What if some Death Eaters escaped and tried to take revenge? Would Harry take his memories away again? Would he keep casting Memory Charms every time there was the slightest hint of danger?
Would Draco forever have to be wary, questioning his own mind if he remained near Harry?
He shouldn't have to wonder about that, he knew that. He shouldn't be questioning whether his memories would be stolen from him again by the one person he was supposed to trust the most. The person he had loved and still loved, even if he didn't want to anymore.
Had he actually ever fallen out of love? Was this his second time falling in love with Harry or had his love just laid dormant all this time until he started to spend more time with Harry?
Did that matter?
He breathed out slowly, rubbing his temples. Here he was questioning whether he still wanted Harry, whether he could trust him not to Obliviate him again.
But even if he reached a conclusion now, who said Harry still felt the same? He had admitted to wanting to be around Draco, but in what kind of way? As a lover, as a friend?
Just because he was the other father of his child?
Well, nothing of that mattered as long as Draco couldn't figure out what exactly he felt for the dark haired wizard.
If he couldn't decide whether his love for Harry was bigger than the sense of betrayal and hurt – then they didn't have a future together either way.
How was he supposed to decide, though?
Dark blue eyes flicked up from the old tome they were perusing when Draco entered the spacious study. The tome was closed with an almost inaudible 'thud' and a slender hand beckoned him closer.
"How is the brewing going?" Mother asked, picking up her cup of tea to take a delicate sip.
"I've had better days," Draco admitted begrudgingly, sinking down in the leather armchair across from his mother.
He had given brewing potions a few more tries these past couple of days, but it clearly wasn't going to help him as long as his mind remained in this muddy state of indecisiveness. It was pure frustration, coupled with a sliver of desperation, that had him seeking out his mother.
At this point nothing could get any worse, really.
Mother just regarded him calmly, not a hint of impatience in her face as she waited for her son to gather his thoughts and speak about what was bothering him.
"I'm …" Draco started and trailed off, not certain where he wanted to go with that sentence. He shook his head and tried again. "You and father – I was wondering … Has father ever done something you found difficult to forgive?"
He didn't think his father had. Not that the older man was perfect – Draco might have thought that once, but the last couple of years had been a painful eyeopener as to how flawed his father could be. The relationship between his parents, however, had always appeared steady, like a rock refusing to be bested by the ferocious sea. No matter what happened, no matter what the Ministry had tried or what had happened during the war, his parents had never seemed to lose faith in each other.
He knew Lucius and Narcissa loved each other very much; they didn't need verbal claims of their love. It was there in the way they behaved towards each other; the way they looked and talked with each other.
Yes, his father had made mistakes, but he doubted that any of them had been severe enough for his mother to not forgive him. Why would you stay with someone you couldn't forgive?
"Yes, he has," Mother answered serenely to his utter shock.
"But – so you never forgave him for whatever he did?" he questioned astonished.
If she hadn't been able to forgive father, why was she still with him? Wasn't trust one of the most important parts of a relationship? Or was this just part of keeping up appearances?
"No, I did not and he knows that," she continued calmly, but her eyes sharpened as she studied him. "I never forgave him for accepting the Dark Lord's mark. I knew back then that it would bring nothing but trouble, but he did not want to listen to me."
Draco licked his lips, trying to order his thoughts. "Why – how are you able to stay with him then?" he asked, a tad helpless. Was it possible to love someone, stay with them even if you couldn't forgive them for something they did? He couldn't really wrap his mind around that fact.
Bemusement coloured her voice when she replied, "Because my love for him is bigger than the betrayal I felt back then. Don't misunderstand me, my dragon, I was furious when I discovered what he had done. We've spent weeks fighting about it, but in the end I decided that what was done was done and we couldn't go back. We just had to make the best of it." She shifted a bit, tapping her nails thoughtfully on the cover of the book.
"I swore to stand by his side through whatever life throws at us and that is still true. Will I ever forgive him for accepting the mark? I don't think I ever will. Was it enough to separate us? No, it was not. I knew he was a flawed man when I married him, but the love I have for him is bigger than the betrayal I felt back then, bigger than any kind of anger he can elicit in me. So I made peace with what he did. I can't forgive him for it, but I'm not going to let his mistake define us either. We're more than the error he made."
Draco's mind was reeling with the onslaught of honest answers mother was giving him. She had never spoken so frankly about her marriage with father before and he had honestly expected her to just give a vague answer that would leave him dissatisfied and still not closer to gaining a solution for his own problem.
"Aren't you … worried that he'll do something to betray your trust again?" he questioned uncertainly, not wanting to cross a line, but needing to hear the answer.
She cocked her head slightly, gazing at him pensively. "No, I'm not," she answered, crossing her legs. "Because I trust him not to repeat his mistake. If I couldn't trust him with that, we wouldn't be together anymore."
To Draco, mother's answer felt like a contradiction. She hadn't forgiven his mistake, yet trusted her husband not to commit another error. How could she be so certain that he wouldn't wrong her again? Just because she loved him? Was love really enough to get past a betrayal?
"Love isn't easy, Draco," Mother murmured; her hair shimmering in the light of the fire. "It requires hard work and trust. I chose to trust your father after he made his mistake and he hasn't let me down since."
"But how did you know you could still trust him?" Draco insisted, frowning, as he rubbed absentmindedly over his thigh.
"I just know," she answered simply.
Well, that didn't really help him out, did it?
"Do your questions have something to do with what happened with Harry?" she inquired cautiously.
He smiled thinly. "Something like that," he muttered evasively and left the study before she could ask further.
Could he trust Harry not to steal his memories again? Or should he just give up now?
So many questions, yet still no answer.
"Malfoy?"
The reserved, familiar voice had him tensing up and he slowly craned his neck around, laying eyes on Granger who stood at the beginning of the aisle, five books clutched against her chest as she regarded him apprehensively.
"Granger," he returned neutrally. So far he only had had to endure some glares and dark whispers during his trip in Diagon Alley and he was hoping to get back to the manor without landing himself into a fight. Getting into a possible argument with Granger – something that nearly always seemed to happen whenever they were near each other – was not conductive to having a calm shopping trip.
"I – didn't expect to see you here," she murmured, shifting her books a bit. They were thick and dark coloured, but the titles were covered.
He shrugged stiffly. "Needed to get some books about potions," he muttered, turning his attention back to the book clutched in his hands, dismissing the young woman.
Outside the cold November wind howled, making the windows rattle with its force.
Soft footsteps approached him and he tensed up, letting out an annoyed hiss between his teeth. It figured that she wouldn't just leave; that would have been too easy.
"Eh, how are you doing?" she questioned rather meekly, freeing one arm to brush a stray lock behind her ear.
"Just dandy," he answered curtly, refusing to look up from the potion's guide. "Why do you ask?"
"Harry – he told us that you know …" she trailed off, clearly uncomfortable.
A bitter chuckle left him before he could stop himself. "That I'm the one who knocked him up? Or are you referring to the fact that I know he Obliviated me? Well, I know both, so." He abruptly turned around, his fingers tightening around the spine of the book. "How long did you know about him Obliviating me?" he asked harshly; pure frustration flaring up once more.
She stared at him wearily and sighed. "Ron and I didn't know until we discovered the pregnancy. He didn't want to tell us, but well, he's never been able to keep a secret for long from us."
Draco wanted to point out her best friend had managed to keep it a secret for months, but wasn't in the mood to start a new argument.
"Harry didn't do it to hurt you," she said quietly, her wand dancing through the air as she cast a Privacy Shield around them. "I'm not agreeing with what he did and I'm not making excuses for him," she continued hastily when Draco glowered at her. "But I know he did it to protect you."
"That doesn't make what he did right," he spat, but his ire had been drained out by weariness a while ago. His conversation with mother and his yet to die out feelings for Harry had been occupying his mind for days now as he tried to come to a decision. It was harder than he thought it would be.
She shook her head, biting her lower lip. "I know and he knows that too. The war – we all did fucked up things, Malfoy. And Harry – he's lost too many people. He didn't want to lose you too. What he did wasn't right, but – I can understand why he did it."
"What do you want me to say, Granger?" Draco sighed, rubbing his forehead. A headache was steadily building, like a heavy pressure pushing down on his head.
"I'm not …" She hesitated, shuffled her feet before huffing and pursing her lips. There was a fire dancing in her eyes as she replied, "Just talk to him one more time at least, okay? Clear up the air between you and decide what you're going to do with the baby."
"Is the – are they doing okay?" The question was forced out of him before he could think twice and he pressed his lips together, glancing away, as if that could undo his inquiry.
"They're all right," she answered, her voice audibly softening. "They're strong."
He nodded, keeping his mouth shut as he stared at the floor.
"Just go talk to him," she said softly. "You both need it."
Before he could say anything to that, she walked away, leaving him standing in the small aisle.
Feeling more conflicted than ever before.
Dark green eyes, made darker by the bags underneath them, widened and stared at him in shock when the door opened, revealing the blond standing there.
"We need to talk," Draco said quietly.
The rain continued to fall as the front door closed behind him.
"I can't – I need to know I can trust you, Harry. I need to be able to trust that you won't erase my memories anymore if a new danger pops up. If we're going to do this, if we're going to try this, I need to know."
A shuddering breath.
"I can – if you want, I can swear an Unbreakable Vow."
Stumped. "You'd do that for me?"
A self-deprecating laugh. "I think it's the least I can do after the shit I put you through. I didn't expect a second chance, Draco, so I'm willing to do whatever you want to earn your trust again. I swear I'm not going to fuck up again." Voice slightly choked up. Hands trembling slightly as they laid on his swollen stomach.
Thirty weeks pregnant. In less than three months their son would be here.
Grey fastened onto green.
"Okay."
A soft exhale.
A weak smile.
They agreed to take it slow.
Draco started visiting Harry multiple times each week now; sometimes just to hang out, sometimes they did nothing but talking. There was still uncertainty hanging between them as they tried to get past what had happened; insecurity crossing Harry's face whenever he reached out to touch Draco, not certain whether his touch would be welcomed.
Despite Harry's offer, Draco hadn't wanted him to make an Unbreakable Vow. The vow would have been the easiest way to ensure that Harry would never betray him like that again, but Draco didn't want to rely on magic to trust the dark haired man. If he couldn't trust him without a magical aid, what was the point in being with each other? He didn't think he would ever really forgive Harry for Obliviating him, but he was willing to get past it if it meant getting a chance to be with the dark haired man.
He was still in love with Harry. That was a fact. He wanted to be with him. That was another fact. They still had to work on the trust issues lingering between them, but that was okay. They had time. It was enough to work on it together.
It was enough to be together, take care of Teddy, and discuss names for their son.
Their son.
A strange giddiness filled him every time he thought about their son growing steadily in Harry's stomach, waiting for the day to be born; warmth filling him when he felt his baby kicking underneath his hands, Harry's stomach rippling with each kick and press of a fist.
He hadn't envisioned becoming a father at such a young age, but the prospect didn't terrify him as much as he thought it would have now that he had had some time to get used to the idea.
They informed his mother about her grandson on a snowy day in the middle of December during one of Harry's visits at Malfoy Manor. She didn't question their relationship, didn't demand to be told why she only got to hear the news now instead of months ago, but simply hugged them both, offering her help should they need it.
"Are you certain about this, my dragon?" she asked once Draco stepped out of the hearth, returning from his short journey of escorting Harry home.
The younger man's balance had already been shit before his pregnancy, but being nine months pregnant had only made it worse and Draco saw to it that he accompanied him during his Floo travels, wanting to prevent him from falling flat on his face.
He dusted off some soot and regarded her calmly. "I am," he stated, knowing that she was concerned for him. If he hadn't been certain, he wouldn't have introduced Harry as his partner to her.
She wouldn't ask questions, but that didn't mean she wouldn't worry. She knew that not everything was perfect between him and Harry, but was willing to remain out of it. He knew she would have his back regardless if it ever did go wrong between him and Harry.
She inclined her head, before brushing a cool hand over his cheek. "I trust your decision," she murmured, pressing a kiss against his right cheek before silently leaving the foyer.
Draco remained standing there for a little while longer, aware of the small smile on his face. No, everything wasn't perfect yet between him and Harry; some hurdles still laid in front of them, but they were working their way through them, talking and getting used to being with each other in that manner again. It wasn't easy, but this thing between him and Harry, this relationship – it wasn't impossible either. They might have to work harder on their relationship than others, but Draco wasn't opposed to that. He had made the decision to give Harry another chance and so far he hadn't been disappointed. They would get there, he was sure.
Everything was gradually falling into place. Slowly, but surely.
They kissed each other for the first time a week into the new year. They had been rearranging the furniture in the nursery, Harry growing more antsy the closer he neared his due date and needing something to do to work off the excess energy. There had been tentative hints coming from him about Draco moving in with him, but they were kept vague enough that Draco didn't feel pressured into giving an answer now.
Harry was changing the order into which some stuffed toys had been put on a shelf, saying, "Andromeda's offered to keep Teddy with her for a few weeks after the baby is born."
"To give you some time to rest?" Draco furrowed his eyebrows, lowering his wand now that the bed was standing in the left corner next to the window.
Harry snorted, taking a step back from the display. "As if a new born baby is going to let me rest much," he replied and rolled his eyes. "It's a nice offer and I might take her up on it for a few days, but I'm used to having Teddy with me now."
"And your protective father instincts are going haywire at the thought of not having Teddy with you," Draco teased, drawing closer to the dark haired man.
The younger man huffed, crossing his arms on top of his heavily swollen stomach. "They're not going haywire," he complained, scowling at the blond. "I just don't see the point in not having Teddy with me when he's going to grow up with the baby anyway."
"I wonder whose stubbornness is going to win," Draco mused, halting next to Harry. "Yours or my aunt's."
Harry turned around, narrowing his eyes slightly. The winter sunlight caught the green of his eyes and made them shimmer like emeralds held above a flame. "It's not stubbornness! I just want - "
Their lips met before Draco realised fully what he was doing; a sudden strong surge of love sweeping him away, urging him to feel that soft, smooth skin underneath his own. Harry's lips parted underneath his in surprise, but kissed back and slender arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him as close as possible with Harry's belly between them. His own hands settled on Harry's hips, feeling the smooth material of his dark sweatpants underneath his fingertips as he turned his head slightly, deepening the kiss, getting to know Harry all over again in this way.
He knew they had kissed before – the memories were there now and he could recall with clarity the many times they had sneaked away to snog in a forgotten corner or an unused room; the heated, passionate kisses they had shared while having sex. The slow, tender kisses right before they fell asleep. The harsh ones tainted with desperation after each battle had ended and they had found each other again, hurt but alive.
He had all those memories – and yet this kiss couldn't compare to all the others they had shared before. This one felt deeper, softer, right. It was in the way their mouths brushed against each other, soft but determined and in the way their breaths mingled and their bodies moulded themselves against each other.
It was like discovering Harry all over again, like this was the first time they were kissing.
It was bloody amazing, that was what it was.
When they parted – quite reluctantly, but their lungs were screaming for air – Draco's lips tingled as if an undercurrent of electricity was running through them, only more pleasant and they both panted; their cheeks flushed red.
"You're going to make it a habit to stop an argument by kissing me?" Harry questioned breathlessly and then winced. "Sorry, I shouldn't have – "
"I'm going to make it a habit to kiss you again and again," Draco interrupted him before the other wizard could sink down in a spiral of guilt. They had talked about this over and over again and the blond man wouldn't allow the other man to drown himself in guilt. What was done was done; they could only go forwards now instead of remaining stationary in the past.
Draco had made his decision and he wasn't going to regret it. He wasn't planning on regretting any of this.
Harry's face softened and his eyes, dimmed at the reference to their past, started sparkling again as he bit down on his lower lip, drawing Draco's attention to the slightly swollen, reddened mouth. Green eyes peeked at him coyly from underneath long eyelashes as fingers slipped into his hair, tugging playfully at some strands.
"Far be it from me to put a stop to that habit then," Harry whispered before sealing their mouths together again, pulling Draco into another deep kiss.
Nothing else much was done in the nursery that day.
Their son was born a few weeks later, on the twelfth of February. Harry's contractions had started early in the morning and Draco had been jolted out of his sleep by the stag Patronus announcing that Harry's water had broken. Panic had swept over him for a moment, paralyzing him for a few minutes, before he had forced himself to calm down and change into a sweater and trousers, hastening towards the fireplace so he could Floo to Harry's home. He had had spared enough time to send a house elf to wake up his mother with the news before he was barrelling into the Floo; his heart drumming loudly in his ears.
The look of pure relief plastered on Harry's face had made him realise that despite their growing intimacy of the last few months, the labouring man had been afraid he wouldn't show up.
That thought had him crossing the room faster than either one of them had expected and he drew the panting wizard into his arms, rubbing over his back soothingly as he pressed a kiss against Harry's temple.
"I'm here," he murmured; the words belying a deeper meaning than either of them were ready to acknowledge right now.
Hands clenched around his arms and Harry rested his head against his shoulder. "I know," he muttered before a pained groan escaped him as he was hit by a contraction.
They waited a few more hours before calling Healer Rose, knowing that the process of Harry getting ready to give birth would last a while even with the potions helping him along. Once she had arrived, though, everything went fairly quickly and before Draco realised it, he was sitting behind Harry, getting his hand squeezed to the point of being numb as he whispered encouragements in Harry's ear with the younger man pushing with all his might.
Some time passed, Draco too distracted by the feeling of Harry's body tensing against his own to take note of how much time had gone by exactly, but then suddenly a loud shout left Harry, he fell back against Draco's chest and there was the sharp, piercing cry of their new born son as he finally entered the world.
He was here. Their son was here.
Draco accepted the small, blue bundle with trembling arms and when he looked down into the small face of his son, saw the pouty, dark pink lips, the small button nose and the dark tuft of hair peeking out from beneath the blanket, he felt like he would burst out of his own body with happiness; his vision wavering, blurring, as he blinked away hot tears.
"He's perfect, Harry," he rasped, carefully placing their baby boy on Harry's chest, slipping next to him on the bed while placing an arm around Harry's shoulders.
"Yes, he is," Harry muttered exhausted, but a smile full of love bloomed open on his face as he carefully stroked the baby's cheek. "Welcome into the family, Scorpius."
Draco tightened his grip around Harry's shoulders, drawing him nearer as he looked down upon his little family.
A family he hadn't thought he would have any time soon.
A family he would do anything for and fight for to keep.
At that moment he finally comprehended fully what his mother had meant when she told him about his father's mistake. Harry had made a mistake, a mistake that had nearly cost them everything, but they were here now. Together.
It wasn't easy and they still had their struggles, but they were getting there one day at a time. They were willing to fight for each other and that was what counted in the end.
Love wasn't easy, especially not in their case, but it was worth it.
Their son was here now, marking a new chapter in their lives. A fresh start, a new beginning. Draco was looking forward to finding out what would happen next.
Green eyes locked onto grey ones and Draco smiled, bending down to share a soft, tender kiss with Harry.
No, fighting for their love wasn't easy, but Draco wouldn't have it any other way. They had each other now and that was all that mattered.
They still had their struggles, Harry proving that he could be trusted and Draco slowly getting over his distrust, but he was certain that they would get there in the end.
They had the rest of their lives to figure it out.
The End
AN2: Can anyone tell how many times I've rewritten the ending? *sweatdrops* This started out as easy to write and then it somehow transformed into this complicated mess *groans*
But well, we reached the end of this story. It was supposed to be a oneshot and turned out to have four chapters in the end - not a surprise anymore when it comes to my writing I guess. I hope that despite the ending you still enjoyed the story. I know I enjoyed writing it - even if the last chapter gave me a lot of trouble.
For the last time please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me.
I hope to see you all in my other stories!
Cuddles
Melissa
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In Tatters and Pieces